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penvisions · 10 days ago

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gone to the dogs {chapter nine}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Seasons change and silence rings. Everything is slow moving until it isn't. Everything happens all at once and you reach out for the one person who you need more than anything, but will they be able to reach you in time to help?

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language,, outbreak fic, darker fic, adult language, reader has no canon name but has a commonly used nickname, reader is mostly blank slate but has hair that can be pulled back, fighting, references to injuries, vital injuries, blood, gore, ambush attack described (the one in on lincoln), pregnancy and pregnancy symptoms, brief descriptions of birth, illusions to birth, birth complications, strained relationship dynamic, reader is keeping secrets, offscreen character death, um i think that's it for this one

*this chapter is very, very different from anything i've written before. please be warned, please read the tags, please proceed with caution if you feel even a little hesitant

A/N: please don't yell at me too much ♡

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Sleet rains down and mixes with the hail that builds up in the gutters, on the streets, in every nook and cranny of each building’s window. It dampens the sky, the ground, the air, his mood, and definitely the legs of his pants where they fit over his boots. He looks over his shoulder at a loud crackle of thunder, sure he heard footsteps behind him pick up speed under the sound- but no one is there.

He holds tighter to the bundle in his fist, shoved deep in his pockets of the coat you had fixed up for him time and time again. His chest aches at the thought of you, the sole reason why he’s out in this nasty weather while everyone else in the zone hunkers down to wait out the storm.

He knows it’s late, too late, passed curfew. But as he holds his shoulders tensely, entire body on alert for a threat, a soldier, someone else to keep him from you- he doesn’t notice the tripwire as he ducks into an alley. Bells jingle like merry laughter underneath the rumbling thunder low in the sky and he’s suddenly faced with three large figures separating from the shadows.

His mission of getting to the radio hub some guy set up flies from his mind as he focuses on the movement of them, how they close in on him. But all of his fight seeps from him as he feels the barrel of a gun shoved into the back of his head. His vision splotches black, head throbbing and heart stuttering as he realizes he’s completely surrounded and outnumbered- pulled from his melancholy musings in the worst way, a deadly way.

“Listen here, Miller. We know you took over the bitch’s operation, no one’s seen her in weeks. No one’s been found dead by her hands even though we’ve been scouring every little hidey hole for her. So we’re just gonna have a little chat about how we can all work together on better terms than she decided for everyone, got it?”

It wasn’t soldiers, at least not FEDRA, Joel realizes through glimpses of consciousness. The butt of the gun at his head slams hard again and his legs give out as his vision blurs completely. He knows he shouts out, but the sticky screech of duct tape being unwound from a roll drowns it out before a thick piece is slapped over his mouth. All he can do while fighting the pain in his body is try to track details- what they’re wearing, what they look like, where they drag his limp body through the streets, what the building looks like from the outside- before his hands and legs are tied tightly together and he’s shoved into a room where they cuff him to an old radiator.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, the only thing keeping pace is the throbbing in his head and the way the sky rains down thick sheets of hail that ping and dent anything they land on- a true summer storm for this part of the country. The only thing he knows for sure is that he should’ve stayed in Lincoln with you.

Damp dirt flies up and freckles your face as you try to dig out a neat little hole for the newest protection that Bill deemed important. A sensor would be implanted, allowing for some sort of flame thrower the man put together to spring up and aim at whoever got too close to the fence. It was still warm outside, dangerously so, the ground nearly crumbling but thankfully there was no illusions of water built up around the clean streets and the walkways of the cordoned off section of the town Bill claimed for himself.

You feel the need to keep busy, to work with your hands and to complete tasks with an alarming, almost manic energy. Frankie says you’re nesting, a natural progression of your hormones and body getting ready for the baby that grows stronger and bigger in your belly day by day. It’s been a month, nearly tw, summer finally beginning to wane, though the nights bite at your ankles and nip at your neck as the next season looms near.

Jean, too, is filled to the brim with restless energy. Though she’s more apt to help Bill with the canning and preservation of food, the cooking of meals, the cleaning of the house in a way that makes everything feel a little more normal- like old times before. It’s a far cry from the imitation of life you both experienced in the zone. But then again two women so close in their pregnancies was no walk in the park, sometimes you feel like you’re conducting business dealings just to get her to rest sometimes even when she wavers on her feet or begins to slouch in her seat. She’s a little further than you are, by a month or so. Her month being five and yours four. As best estimated at least.

The days are blurring together, your heart feeling both light and heavy as your mind works overtime, memories of every part of your life beginning to weave through your sleep, through your waking moments. Good times and bad. Fights that have everything to do with surviving and inane conversations that have nothing to do with it but were important all the same. Being human- it’s a wild concept you mull over as you feel like one for the first time in a long time. Joel helped with that, even in the hard times, he gave you reason to surge up and defend yourself, allowing you to keep your wits sharp and your teeth even sharper. To see that every was a threat in their own way, even if they were on your side.

But he’s been more than that for years, or had been. Now he’s…silent. No word from him since the day he disappeared into the thick tree line after safely delivering you and Jean here to Bill and Frankie. It worries you something fierce sometimes, wondering if he truly, genuinely loved you like he confessed to because love shouldn’t feel like heartbreak- like betrayal. Even as you carry a secret just as devastating as his radio silence.

Your hands fly to your middle as you stand from your spot, knees popping and back aching, but tickling sensation as if something is crawling beneath your skin brings alarm bells to life. You feel a cool wash of nerves race down your spine as you realize this is a new feeling, and it startles you. The hand trowel falls from your grip and you reach for the longer shovel to use as a makeshift cane, tingling feet carrying you slowly back to the house as the feeling underneath your skin persists.

Frankie is on the radio when you walk into the hidden basement, struggling to descend the stairs but determined all the same. He’s go the headphones on and microphone close to his moving lips. Tess’s voice is tin-like, canned where it echoes out from the speakers around his ears. There’s an urgency to her voice, the tone off- harsher as she relays her message. You distantly hear Joel’s name and suddenly the crawling sensation spreads over your entire middle, not just errant spots.

Gasping, you hold tight over the feeling, pressure building and waning as you feel heavy prodding through the skin that bumps into your hands. Frankie is suddenly in front of you, the cord to the headphones tugged tight from where they remain plugged into the computer system Bill has immaculately set up.

“Hey, hey, woah, what’s going on, are you feeling pain?” His voice is soothing despite the worry you see swirling in his eyes. One of his larger hands splays over yours and pressure crawls underneath your skin once again. But his worry gives way to a bright shine, his teeth glinting as he smiles widely down at you.

“Honey, that’s…that’s kicking!” He pauses in his excitement, pressing something on the side of the headphones before turning back to the computer screen and radio set up. “Tess, sorry, hold on one second. You said he’s okay? Can we expect you soon or does he need more time to rest up before a trip?”

He’s quiet as he processes her next words, and then he’s shucking off the headphones to place carefully over your head. Confusion colors your features as you hear static echo through the connection before a deep voice that weaves through your dreams caresses like velvet over your senses- the pressure of the baby kicking growing as it settles over you.

“Hey there, darlin’.” Suddenly every worry that’s plagued you flies out the window and you feel immensely relieved to hear that deep drawl.

“J-Joel?”

“Know it’s been a while.” You hear the shuffling of fabric, a muted grunt that sends a spike of pleasure down your spine, and then a deep exhale. All of the hurt and anger and loneliness at his prolonged absence smoothed over by his next words. “Was kinda in the infirmary for a bit, got jumped by some guys who decided to try me.”

“Are you okay? Who was it? I swear if it was Cohen, I’ll march back there myself and end him. He’s been laying low but always tried-“ The need to protect, to defend, to maim- it all flares up far stronger than it has in a long while. Someone’s decision to mess with what’s yours stirring it all up in you. Hackles raising and claws extending, all for the man who seems to be having a bit of trouble taking a full breath over the line as he tries to console you.

“I’m okay, just been shackled to a radiator the past month and then recovering from malnutrition and a pretty bad concussion after that. Everythin’ is under control, we’re keeping everythin’ up just like you would. And Cohen, he’s been hung for his attempts to take out the sole provider of black market goods by FEDRA themselves. Seems they didn’t like him messing with their supplies.”

“It’s been months, Joel. I was-“ The confession nearly drips from your tone as you realize how small it makes your voice sound, it makes you sound. The one where you admit to feeling like runt pup, left to fend for itself in favor of tending to the stronger, more promising pups in the litter. Abandoned, even if it was your idea in the first place to reside here with Jean, to move her to a better environment- yourself into a better environment.

“I’m okay, I promise.” But it was too much, your emotions bubbling up and the soft hush of his voice over the line. The way the baby kept kicking and kicking the longer you talked to Joel, your heart stirring faster and your body nearly leaning into the radio as you unconsciously moved as close to the source as your could. It was too much, he wasn’t here. He hadn’t been here. It didn’t matter the reason, there were ways for Tess to let you know. She hadn’t, letting it fester into miscommunication and transform into something ugly. Whether intentionally or not, you feel left out. But then again…the conversation of regular communication outside of planning visits and the exchange of goods didn’t exactly happen.

“I’ve got to go- Frankie here.” You remove the headphones just as the man on the other side of the connection calls your name, your real name. But you can’t, emotions swelling up into your lungs as you begin to take in shallow breaths and plop heavily down into the chair in the corner. Through the haze of your spell, you see Frank talk for a few more minutes before the connection is cut off. He’s resetting the radio before coming over to kneel in front of you, hands cradling your face as he urges you to breathe along with him.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay- he’s okay.”

“He-he didn’t- he waited so long, I thought- I thought he was dead!” You shout, every emotion from the past couple of months brimming over and spilling over your hot cheeks and throbbing head in thick tears. Your thoughts weren’t of fights and ambushes, he is strong, Joel is capable and damn near a killing machine when he needed to be. It was of him overdosing, of drowning himself in the swill people claimed as alcohol. But it wasn’t- he was recovering from an attack, one that could’ve been prevented if you stayed behind and handled things as always. It was your fault.

“You can’t control everything and that’s okay. What matters is that you’re both safe and healthy, you are both still very much alive and kicking, okay?”

You can’t fight the tightness in your throat even when you manage to get your breathing under control with the help of Frank. He seems to understand that you can’t find your voice, even as he ushers you up to the main level and helps you to sit on the couch to get off your feet. Within a few moments he’s got a plate of snacks and a glass of water for you set on the coffee table. His hands hold both of yours as you lean into his side, one of his arms wrapped around you to keep you tucked in tight.

“Everything is going to be alright, I promise you, okay?”

“Frankie, I see the way you take so much time to do things that used to be quick and easy for you.”

“It’s a long ways off before it gets bad, we’ve got time. I’ve got to meet that little baby in here before you go confining me to a wheelchair, yeah?” His other hand rests over your middle, the kicking stopped as soon as you removed the headphones and Joel’s voice no longer caressed your ears.

“I don’t know about that, what if they take after Joel?”

“A mini Joel is a mini Bill, and I think we can handle that, honey.”

It’s dark when the attack happens, the thick chill of winter sticking during the night even if it dissipates during the day. Spring is here, the babies are almost to term. The sound of sensors going off just before explosions ring out, you feel the house shake with thunder, all of your senses completely overwhelmed. Frantic movement, pounding steps, shouted curse words, and then your door is flying open and Frank is ushering Jean into your room with a wild expression.

“Bill is already out there, both of you stay in here, please. I’m going to broadcast the code for Tess and Joel, in case things go bad.” And then he’s gone too, closing the door securely behind him.

Jean is breathing deeply, her chest rising rapidly, her hands shaking and you push out of the bed to usher her down on the end of the bed.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay, I promise you, I’ve got you,” You sit beside her and hold her tightly, the trembles of her body jerking her. The harsh rain, the rumbling thunder, the blinding strikes of lightning and the gunfire popping off outside the house triggering her. Her hands are tight over her middle, wrapped around the bump there that’s a little larger than your own.

Just at the front door slams open downstairs, but you couldn’t tell how much time has passed, the air thick with tension and bated breath while you strain your ears for any sign of the trouble getting worse.

Frank is shouting for Bill to heed, to listen and calm as best he can- the older man reaches for him with blood soaked hands and demands his attention in a moment of intense clarity. You rush down the stairs as you hear both of them stumble around on the ground floor. Bill is clutching his middle, a gunshot wound bleed profusely in his gut.

Frank sets him on the dining room table, hands hovering as his mind races. You step close and take a look before grabbing supplies stashed in the drawers up against the wall. You both work to get the bullet out, thankful that it’s whole and not shattered. He grunts at the sting of alcohol poured over it, the panted words of ‘go to Joel’ the last he utters before he goes limp.

As he loses consciousness, all you and Frank can do is stare down at him, emotions running feverishly high as the rain continues to downpour and thunder rumbles lowly in the heavy clouds outside.

Jean is crossing into the dining room to see you and Frank hovering over a stitched up Bill sprawled out on the table, blood splattering you both. Her expression is strained, one of her hands on her middle while the other holds tight to the door jamb. The steady drip of something sounds as she stands there breathing heavily and your eyes narrow as you look over her from the top of her head to the tips of her feet.

Her legs are shiny with something, her socks soaked as she struggles to stand there.

“Cane, I-I I think my wa-water broke!” Her voice cracks as a sob, panic contorting her features into something terrified, her cheeks stained with tears and a little blood- the same that you notice a moment too late on her fingers as well as swirling with the shine on her legs. She’s unable to get any more words out as her chest heaves with a deep breath and her knees buckle. You’re barely across the space in time, ignoring the subtle tension in your own middle as you do so and catch her upper half before it slams into the hardwood. You grunt as you take on her dead weight, slumping down rather clumsily as Frank takes stock of what supplies are already out, mind working out what else might be needed.

The tension, the stimulation, all of it- it’s too much for Frank’s nervous system to handle and just as he’s reaching for the bottle of whiskey to take a deep pull from it, his body begins to jerk. He falls to the floor with a loud thud that vibrates across to where you’re kneeling beside Jean as she writhes and wails. There’s so much blood, splattered and spread over Bill’s frame. Dripping from between Jean’s legs and trailing down them in rivulets. Sprouting from the gash that’s splitting in Frank’s forehead, the edge of a chair cutting into him as he collapsed. Your entire body shakes as you grasp at your middle, pain striking as you feel your very spine contract and compress, the weight of the being inside dropping lower than you’ve ever experienced it.

“No, no, no,” You chant as you see the way Jean’s gone slack, passed out from pain or panic or both and you feel your legs buckle the second you try to stand. So you crawl, you move on trembling limbs as best you can toward the radio that’s been set up in the living room for situations exactly like this. So you or Jean or a worsening Frank didn’t have to descend into the lowest floor of the house to call for help.

Frank never made sent the signal, the sound of Bill shot pulling all of his attention.

The radio crackles to life, static loud over the line as it tries to connect and when it clicks you’re voice broadcasts into a overstuffed room back in the Boston zone. Startling the person manning the radio set up there out of the blank stupor one takes on doing a task as mindless as switching dials to check different channels for communication you know isn’t going to come through. Not when it’s been ages since any have.

“Silas, Silas do you copy?” Despite the trembling of your entire body, the expanding and snapping pain in your middle, your voice is even. It’s not overly commanding but the serious tone prevails strongly over the line. “Silas?”

Static is the only thing you hear in return, no voices travel back to you across the space, rising your simmering panic. You jam your hand to disconnect the call, instead typing into the computer settings and clicking through the tracks listed there. Sledgehammer by Peter Gabriel seems to be the best bet, to convey the way literally everything is crumbling apart in a matter of seconds. Even if the innuendoes are a little too on the nose for a household headed by the couple that it is. A mirthless laugh bubbles up as you jab your finger to broadcast it over the line, hoping that the radio nestled in Joel and Tess’s apartment springs to life in that exact moment.

Laughter wracks your body as vertigo and mania set in, it’s fuckin’ hilarious.

It’s one cruel, cosmic joke that all three people in the house are injured and unconscious in that moment. Any surviving attacks sure to circle back once they gain their bearings, though you desperately hope they’ve all been blown to pieces by either a bullet aimed by Bill or the explosives he’s hidden around the fence line. At most it’ll take Joel and Tess several hours, the least would be four or five to successfully sneak out of the zone and traverse the fifteen or so miles to you.

And that’s only if they’re actually in the apartment to hear your distress call.

What if they were on a run, outside the zone already hunkered down for the night as a supply run turned into a night spent in the ruins of the surrounding city?

Joel is just stepping into the shower when the radio blares to life. It startles him in a way he would never admit, his skin prickling from the back of his neck all the way down to his calves. Vulnerable, exposed, injured still. His ribs are mending, but tender. Even as an entire season has come and gone, pushed to the extreme as he throws himself into hunting down every single person who had anything to do with his capture. Anyone who claims he’s killed you to take over your operations.

It's the only explanation, apparently. Violence raged against you, one too many orders that pushed him over the edge. And he loathes it. The way people think he’s capable of doing the one thing he never could, death for you would be preferable. Not the death of your own scribed to his hands, his conscious.

It registers at that moment: the song is from the eighties.

He doesn’t even shut the water off before he’s pushing from the stall and quickly shoving his limbs into clothing. The fabric sticks to his damp skin as he fastens his belt, holstering a handgun and hastily packs his bag. The door slams behind him as he flies down the hall and through the front door of the building into the storming darkness.

The sun is just coming up when Joel’s even, tempered steps softly sound on the steps that lead up to the front door. It's no longer raining but thunder rumbles in the distance, thick clouds lighting up as the sun begins to rise behind them. The small entry way lights brightens slightly when the door creaks open. Joel’s form moves carefully and stealthily through the small space, his head turning to take in the empty living room and then the dining room. But he stops in his steps, deathly still when his eyes land on the unconscious forms of Bill laid atop the table and Frank on the floor, gauze and medical instruments scattered around them.

They’re patched up and breathing shallowly. That’s a good sign, the only good sign as he takes in the rest of the room.

Joel raises his gun as his eyes follow the trail of dried blood that leads into the kitchen, the house is silent save for the ticking of the clock above the couch in the next room over. He swallows thickly, heart thudding painfully against the inside of his ribs. He continues further into the house, the kitchen door creaking open underneath thick fingers as he pushes through. And he swears his heart stops altogether.

Jean is laid out flat on the tile, blood pooled around her, covering her legs and still swollen middle. Her skin is pale, her eyes closed- her chest isn’t rising and falling with her breathing. The stamp of boots far bigger than your own litter the floor, two different sets. And then he hears it, movement.

He follows the faint sound, passing by the woman who he had sworn to protect. The direction of the boots prints as they disappear to the end of the house. The sound is low voice, your voice, pleading. It lights up his instincts in a wild way, he’s never heard you sound so desperate. And it’s obvious what has your voice dipping so when he opens the door to the sunroom at the back of the house to find you cradling a small figure tucked into a blanket. Two men, two bodies lay far too close to you. They aren’t breathing, the gun by your side looks jammed and a kitchen knife sticks out of one of their foreheads.

But the baby isn’t breathing either, even as your hands work against its little chest, back propped up on your pulled up knees. The blanket covers most of your form, but what blood you’re covered in is everyone else’s. Your hair is back in a tangle of tresses, blood matting them into thick chunks. It’s smeared on your cheeks, dried tears breaking up the stains. Your hands too, are stained, even as you work harder than he’s seen you work on anything.

Your own breath is pitched high, almost gasping even as you lean down and press your mouth to the open one of baby. The chest rises as you do so, but as you move away it expels unnaturally. The baby isn’t breathing and nothing you do is going to help. He holsters his gun and kneels beside you, body going still as you turn wild eyes to him.

“J-Joel, he…he won’t…I can’t-!” Flashes of his own child struggling to breathe, the same quick staccato that you exhibit now should rattle him, but instead it steels him. His hands are steady as he gently reaches for the baby, wrapping the blanket carefully around the boy’s small body.

“It’s…it’s okay, darlin’,” He croaks, voice sticking in his throat at the exhaustion he can see so clearly in every little movement you make, every line of muscle in your body. The evidence of the ambush around the fence line, the mangled bodies that litter the growing grass, the burn of fire catching in spots, ash in others. The two men in the dining room, obviously harmed but tended to. You’re the only one conscious, the only one capable. But he’s here now.

He thinks he can help you through this, can help put the house back in order until the blanket lifts from your lower half to expose the swell of your own belly.

His mind goes blank, his entire body goes numb. Static filling his head even as the overlay of his argument with Tess, his argument with you over Jean’s situation sounds loud. Everything slots into place, all at once. The reason you were adamant about leaving, the way your touches lingered before you did, the sickness that lingered long after Tess’s…you kept this from him. But betrayal isn’t what he feels now, hope flutters in his chest, a small spark that lightens the darkness that fills him, has deepened since you settled here.

Not just for Jean and Frank, but for you and your baby. His baby.

There’s the shine of liquid puddled around you, soaking into the fabric of your sleep shorts and the hem of your oversized shirt. Your water’s broken, contractions the culprit behind your shallow breathing, not just your attempts at resuscitating the baby he’s holding in his arms.

“Joel, please, h-help me,” You whimper, hands moving to cradle your middle, bending double as you stretch your legs out straight. A contraction convulses your body and you cry out an ugly, guttural sound that snaps him back into motion. He sets the carefully wrapped blanket atop the whicker chair to his right and hurries to your side. Hands cradling your head as he pulls you to him, lips pressing firmly to your temple as your shoulders begin to shake.

“I didn’t know. Cane, I-“ His hands tremble now, with the realization that you ran from him. Because you were afraid of him, of what he would tell you to do in the heat of the moment. But that spark of hope catches, gets the oxygen it needs as he breaths in deep, stoking it to a greater volume. You’re stronger than him and the realization that you would turn from him even the wake of creating a life together in order to protect and defend instills that notion. It gives him some strength too, to know how willing you are to do what you need to, for yourself, no matter what anyone else thought. Pride swells, he knows you’re strong, he knows you can do this. He just needs support you, he needs to be the one to give you the room to be strong, even if it might feel like weakness in this moment.

“I hid it from you,” Your voice is raspy from the force of your grunts and groans, breaking out of your chest and into the air as you scrabble in his hold to tear your soaked shorts off. “You didn’t want it, you wouldn’t h-have wanted me.”

Your words knock into his chest like snapping canines, ripping and tearing up sinew and skin. He lets the pain and hurt fuel him, coalescing with the hope that’s flaming bright right there inside him.

“You’re mine, you hear me. Both of you.” His voice is clear, solid. Promising as he moves to kneel between your propped up legs. His hands are shaking, but he presses a kiss to each kneecap before he grips them and glances down. He swallows down any fear of repetition, his jaw twitching as he focuses on your glassy eyes. He can see fear clearly in every line of your face and it fuels him to be better, to do better. To protect, to prevent. You need him, as much as he needs you. Two snarling dogs fending for themselves, bonded and bred anew.

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misshoneyimhome · 3 months ago

Note

I’m not sure if you’ll write this but I’m dying for it and your writing is incredible. Willy Nylander dating a Bruins fan PLEASEEE

Hey there, love 🤗

Alright, so this feels more like a blurb than a proper fic chapter, but I just wanted to say I absolutely love your idea—and I hope I’ve captured at least a bit of it 😘 I don’t know much about being a Bruins fan, so I just followed my intuition on that one 😉

I will say, though, I can definitely see the potential for a series here—not necessarily based on this particular one-shot, but in general, there’s so much to explore! It might be worth diving into - so many details I didn't include 🥰

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as it is 😘

Tropes & Warnings: William Nylander x reader, enemies to lovers, rival teams, no warnings, just fluff

Word count: 3.2K

➼｡ﾟ

Rivals in Love I William Nylander

It had been a long day at work, and you were in desperate need of coffee before tackling the rest of your to-do list. The little café tucked on a quiet street near downtown Boston was your go-to spot. The place always had the best lattes and, more importantly, it was never crowded.

You pushed open the door, the tiny bell jingling to announce your arrival, and stepped inside. The smell of fresh coffee beans and warm pastries instantly soothed your nerves. But you were so focused on debating between a caramel macchiato or a cold brew that you didn’t notice someone walking toward you until—

Crash.

Hot coffee spilled down the front of your sweatshirt, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” a voice said.

You looked up, your initial annoyance faltering when you saw the man responsible. He was tall, his blond hair slightly dishevelled, with bright blue eyes staring at you apologetically.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, though the sticky heat soaking through your shirt suggested otherwise.

“Here,” he said quickly, grabbing a handful of napkins from a nearby table and handing them to you. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. That’s on me.”

“No kidding,” you replied, dabbing at the mess. Then, as you glanced back up at him, recognition dawned. “Wait a second… I know you.”

He tilted his head, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “You’re William Nylander.”

His smirk grew, but before he could respond, you added, “I guess it makes sense. Leafs players are used to fumbling.”

His eyebrows shot up, and then he let out a laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh that caught you off guard. “Wow. That’s the first thing you say to me?”

“Don’t take it personally,” you said with a shrug, trying to ignore how ridiculously good-looking he was. “I’m a Bruins fan.”

“Ah, that explains it,” he said, his smirk returning. “I’ve been told your kind can be… difficult.”

You rolled your eyes. “Difficult or honest?”

“Depends on the day,” he replied, and there was something in his tone—teasing, but also intrigued.

You expected him to brush off the conversation and move on, but instead, he stuck around, asking for your name and making casual small talk while the barista quickly made William a replacement drink.

“I’ll pay for hers too,” William insisted, handing over his card before you could protest.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said, meeting your gaze with an easy smile. “Consider it an apology. And maybe a peace offering? Even if you are a Bruins fan.”

“Fine,” you said, trying to suppress the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But this doesn’t mean I like you or your team.”

“Fair enough,” he said, grabbing his own drink from the counter. But as he turned to leave, he hesitated. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Will you be at the game tomorrow night?”

“Why? Hoping to convert me?”

“No,” he said, his grin widening. “Just wondering if I’ll have to skate extra hard to impress you.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a playful wink and walked out the door, leaving you standing there, completely caught off guard.

The next evening, you found yourself in a dilemma. You hadn’t planned on attending the Bruins-Leafs game—you usually watched from the comfort of your couch, where you could yell at the TV without judgment. But after yesterday’s unexpected encounter, a part of you couldn’t shake the thought of William Nylander skating with that cocky grin, wondering if you’d shown up.

Against your better judgment, you grabbed your Coyle jersey and headed to TD Garden, promising yourself it was only because your best friend, a Leafs fan, had an extra ticket. You weren’t going because of him.

Right?

The Garden was buzzing with energy. You cheered along with the crowd as the Bruins took the ice, booing extra loud when the Leafs players followed. Your friend rolled her eyes at your antics, but you didn’t care.

As the game started, you tried not to pay attention to the opposing #88, but it was impossible. William was everywhere—stealing pucks, setting up plays, and skating with an effortless grace that made you grit your teeth.

And midway through the second period, he scored. The Leafs bench erupted as the puck sailed past Swayman and into the net. You groaned, burying your face in your hands while your friend celebrated.

“That’s your guy,” she teased, elbowing you.

“He’s not my anything,” you shot back, though your cheeks burned.

As the arena quieted for the faceoff, you glanced down at the ice and caught him looking in your direction. He wasn’t even subtle about it—he skated slowly, his gaze locking with yours as he passed your section.

And then, to your horror, he winked.

You sank lower in your seat, cursing yourself for even being here.

After the game—a crushing overtime win for Toronto, much to your dismay—you were about to make your escape when your phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Enjoy the game, Bruins fan?

You froze, staring at the screen.

You: How did you get my number?!

Unknown: I have my ways. A little birdie at the café helped me out.

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice.

You: I can’t believe you’re this desperate for validation.

Unknown: And yet, you came to the game. What does that say about you?

You hated how much his teasing made you smile.

And a few days later, you were back at your favourite café, quietly working through some emails when a shadow fell across your table. You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“You know, I’m starting to think you only come here hoping to bump into me,” William said, setting his coffee down across from you.

“I was here first,” you replied, glancing up at him. “Shouldn’t you be in Toronto or something?”

“We have a few days off,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair. “Thought I’d stick around Boston for a bit. It’s growing on me. Besides, my friend lives here; Pasta, you know him.”

“Careful,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re starting to sound like a Bruins fan.”

He chuckled. “Not a chance. But I could be convinced to stick around… if you let me take you out sometime.”

The audacity of this man. You should’ve laughed in his face, reminded him of the years of heartbreak his team had inflicted on yours. But instead, you found yourself smiling.

“Fine,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “But don’t think this changes anything. I’m still wearing my Coyle jersey.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said with a grin.

A couple of weeks had passed since your impromptu coffee shop agreement to a “date” with William. You’d been casually out together a few times since then—dinners at quiet restaurants, coffee runs, even a casual walk through Boston Common—but you still couldn’t quite figure him out.

William Nylander, the Toronto Maple Leafs’ golden boy, had women fawning over him wherever he went. Yet somehow, you, a loud, opinionated Bruins fan, were the one he seemed determined to spend his free time with.

So, when he casually dropped the idea of you coming to Toronto to watch a game, your first instinct was to laugh it off.

“Right,” you said with a chuckle, taking a sip of your coffee. “I’m sure I’d fit right in at Scotiabank Arena in my Coyle jersey.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’d be the most interesting person there. Besides, you’ve already seen us play in Boston. It’s only fair you experience it on my turf.”

You waved him off, brushing it aside as another one of his playful jabs.

But then, the next day, a notification lit up your phone: a plane ticket from Boston to Toronto, sent by none other than William.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity.

This had to be a joke, right? A Leafs player going out of his way to invite you, a Bruins fan, to Toronto? It didn’t make sense.

He had options—lots of options. The kind of options who probably didn’t wear rival jerseys to dinner or roast him about Toronto’s lack of playoff success. So why was he bothering with you?

Your friend didn’t help, either. “I mean, it’s kind of romantic,” she said, scrolling through Instagram while lounging on your couch. “Maybe he just likes a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes. “Or maybe he just wants to prove he can win over a Bruins fan for the fun of it.”

“Why does it matter?” she said. “He’s into you. Who cares why? Take the trip.”

But you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt in the back of your mind. What if you went, and it turned out you were just some fleeting distraction? What if this was all a game to him? A bet between teammates?

You almost cancelled the flight.

Almost.

The day of the trip arrived, and you stood at Logan Airport, suitcase in hand, still second-guessing yourself. But as you boarded the plane and settled into your seat, you decided to stop overthinking. Maybe this was a bad idea—but maybe it wasn’t.

And a few hours later, you landed in Toronto, where William himself was waiting at the arrivals gate, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“You actually came,” he said, his grin as wide as the Toronto skyline.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you replied, though you couldn’t help but smile back.

The night of the game, you were a bundle of nerves as you slipped on your Coyle jersey. True to your word, you weren’t about to switch allegiances, even for William.

When you arrived at Scotiabank Arena, the Leafs fans around you gave you a mix of side-eyes and incredulous stares, but William had made sure you were seated in a private box to avoid any real drama.

And from the moment the puck dropped, your attention flicked between the ice and William. He was in his element, skating with that effortless confidence, his hair slicked back under his helmet.

Every time he touched the puck, your heart raced, though you’d never admit it. And when he scored late in the second period, his celebration was as dramatic as ever—this time, pointing directly at you in the box.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. He was so infuriating.

After the game, he found you waiting near the locker room, his grin as cocky as ever.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, still catching his breath.

“You’re insufferable,” you said, crossing your arms.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he teased, his voice softer now.

You wanted to argue, to push back, but something about the way he looked at you made your walls crumble. Maybe he wasn’t just playing a game. Maybe this was real.

“Fine,” you said, your voice quieter. “Maybe I did enjoy it. Just a little.”

William’s smile widened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. “Good. Because I’m not giving up on you that easily.”

Over the next few weeks, your relationship with William started to feel… real. The texts, the calls, the late-night FaceTimes where he’d tease you about the Bruins while you fired back equally sharp chirps about the Leafs’ playoff history. It was comfortable in a way you hadn’t expected—like you’d known each other forever instead of just a few months.

He’d flown back to Boston twice since your trip to Toronto, once surprising you with tickets to a game that you’d begrudgingly attended (in your Bruins jersey, of course). And despite the growing attention from both your friends and random Leafs fans online—thanks to William’s not-so-subtle Instagram stories—it felt easy.

And that ease was what brought him to your apartment one chilly Thursday night, fresh off a practice in Toronto and desperate to escape the chaos of hockey for a few days. He showed up at your door with a crooked smile and a bag of takeout, unapologetically dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, as if he wasn’t one of the most recognizable players in the NHL.

“I told you not to come here empty-handed,” you said as he stepped inside.

“I brought food,” he said, holding up the bag. “And me. That counts, right?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, leading him to the couch. The night unfolded in your usual way—dinner, teasing banter, and a ridiculous movie you half-watched while he tried to convince you to root for the Leafs just once.

“Never,” you said, nudging him with your elbow as the credits rolled.

“Not even if I score a hat trick in the playoffs?”

“Please. Like Toronto’s making it past the first round.”

He groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back against the couch. “You’re ruthless, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you shot back, earning a smirk that made your stomach flip.

As the room fell quiet, you realized how close he was. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his body turned slightly toward you, his blue eyes soft as they studied your face.

“What?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Nothing,” he said, but the way his gaze lingered told you otherwise.

You felt your cheeks heat under his scrutiny, and before you could overthink it, he leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, like he was giving you every chance to pull away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as the kiss deepened. The world outside faded, the only sound the faint hum of the TV and the quiet hitch of your breath as his fingers traced along your jawline.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small, almost shy smile playing at his lips.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured.

“You’re one to talk,” you whispered back, your heart pounding against your ribs.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the quiet intimacy stretching between you like a fragile thread. It was a different kind of silence—one that felt warm, electric, and charged with a million unspoken words.

“You know,” he said eventually, his voice low, “I don’t just come here for the food.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing against his jaw. “I figured as much.”

“Good,” he said, kissing you again, slower this time, like he wanted to savour every second. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, you believed him.

Until you didn’t.

The first crack came during a Friday night dinner at a cosy Italian spot in the North End.

It was supposed to be a quiet evening, but halfway through your meal, the whispers started.

“That’s William Nylander…”

“…isn’t she a Bruins fan? What’s she doing with him?”

“…he’s always with someone new…”

You tried to brush it off, focusing on your pasta while William remained unfazed, casually twirling his fork like he didn’t hear a thing. But the longer it went on, the harder it was to ignore.

By the time dessert arrived, the insecurities you’d managed to suppress since Toronto had resurfaced with a vengeance.

“Do you ever… get tired of this?” you blurted, pushing your tiramisu around with your spoon.

William looked up, his brows furrowing. “Tired of what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “The attention. The whispers. Everyone thinking I’m just another one of your… whatever.”

His expression softened, but you didn’t stop.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had fun—really. But maybe this was just a thing, you know? A fun distraction for you while you’re on the road. I mean, you’re William Nylander. You could date anyone. Why me?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and the silence was deafening. You stared at your plate, feeling the familiar sting of regret creeping in. Maybe you’d gone too far. Maybe he’d been looking for an out, and you’d just handed it to him.

But then, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Why not you?” he said quietly, his voice steady. “You’re smart, funny, and the only person who makes me actually want to argue about hockey. You’re not afraid to chirp me when I deserve it—and even when I don’t. And yeah, the attention sucks sometimes, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is you.”

You blinked, your throat tightening as his words sank in.

“And for the record,” he added, a small smirk creeping onto his face, “you’re not a ‘fun distraction.’ If you were, I wouldn’t have flown to Boston twice in a month just to see you.”

Your lips twitched, a reluctant smile breaking through. “You’re really laying it on thick, huh?”

“Is it working?” he asked, his smirk turning into a full grin.

“Maybe,” you admitted, rolling your eyes but squeezing his hand back.

But the drama didn’t end there.

A few days later, an article popped up online: William Nylander Seen Cosying Up to Mysterious Bruins Fan in Boston.

The headline was bad enough, but the comments? Worse.

“She’s just another puck bunny.”

“Why would he date a Bruins fan? Total PR move.”

“She’s not even that pretty…”

You tried not to let it bother you, but when William called that night, you were unusually quiet.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Nothing,” you lied, staring at your laptop screen where the article was still open.

“Come on,” he pressed. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, finally breaking. “I don’t know if I can do this, Will. The articles, the comments… people think I’m just using you, or that I’m some… whatever they want to call me.”

“They don’t know you,” he said firmly. “And they don’t know us.”

“But they think they do,” you argued. “And it’s exhausting.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you braced yourself for the worst.

But then he spoke again, “What if I made it official?”

You froze. “What?”

“What if I posted about us?” he said, his tone calm but confident. “Let people see that you’re not just some random girl. That we’re serious.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but doubt still lingered. “Won’t that just make it worse?”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I don’t care. I want to be with you. And if that means dealing with some noise, so be it.”

You were silent, his words hanging heavy in the air.

“Look,” he continued, his voice softening. “You can take all the time you need to think about it. But just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

A week later, you were scrolling through Instagram when you saw it.

A picture of the two of you at dinner, taken from a slightly awkward angle but undeniably sweet. The caption?

“Even a Bruins fan can’t resist a little blue and white 💙🤍.”

The comments were a mix of support, chirps, and Leafs-Bruins banter, but for the first time, you didn’t care.

Because when you texted him to call him out for posting it without warning, his only response was:

“Told you I’m not going anywhere.”

#my asks #bruins!fan x William #wn88 imagine #William Nylander imagine #Toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines

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dianawinchester03 · 5 months ago

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Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Ahhhh yes, the dreaded episode is finally here😭Just so y’all know, this was not easy for me to write LMAO.

So the song I listened to while rereading and editing this chapter is Dynasty by Miia sooooo, do what you want with that;) listen to it while reading if that’s your thing.

Lmao, GOOD LUCK MY BEAUTIES!!

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Boston’s ‘Foreplay/Longtime’ boomed through the Impala’s speakers, the quartet was headed to a local diner. The screech of Baby’s wheels dug into the gravel in front of the dingy diner. “Hey, don’t forget the extra onions this time, huh?” Dean said to Sam, handing him some cash between his fingers for the food.

“Dude-” Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes as he snatched the money from his fingers. “-we’re the ones who’re gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions” Sam sassed, making Jo snicker in the backseat, while Y/N groaned heavily, resting her head on Jo’s shoulder. “Times like this, I miss my girl” She groaned, referring to her bike.

“There, there, darling.” Jo pat Y/N’s head playfully. Dean just smiled widely as Sam and Y/N hopped out of their respective seats. “Hey, see if they got any pie!” Dean called out to them, Sam and Y/N shot him annoyed looks as they harshly shut their doors. “Bring me some pie!” He called out again.

“We won’t forget your cake!” Y/N shouted back with a roll of her eyes, slightly offended that Dean really thought she would forget the pie. Forgetting the pie was more Sam’s thing. “PIE!!!” Dean shouted again. “I love me some pie” He muttered to himself, turning up the radio.

Y/N pushed the door open to the diner, allowing Sam in first, the bell above the door jingling as they entered inside. The lighting was soft and dim, the atmosphere of the diner gave the diner an intimate feel. The place was a typical small town diner, booths with vinyl seats, checkered floor, and counters. A couple of customers sat scattered about, talking amongst themselves between bites.

Jo watched Y/N and Sam walk into the diner through the windshield, her attention turned back to Dean. “I’m starving,” She spoke, rubbing her empty stomach. “All this hunting makes a girl hungry.”

“I hear ya” He chuckled a little in agreement, his eyes still glued to the door where Y/N and Sam had disappeared into. “I swear, if they forget the pie, I’m gonna lose it.” He muttered under his breath, running his hand through his hair. Jo snorted in amusement, “Like she’d forget your pie” She told him, shaking her head.

“True, but Sam can be a little brain-dead sometimes.” He added with a crooked smirk. “Dude forgets the pie every time we stop at a diner. It’s a good thing Y/N always reminds him.” Jo nodded in agreement, “I swear that girl keeps you guys alive.”

Before Dean could respond to that, the music that was sounding through the Impala began going static. The light in the radio deck started blinking as if something was interfering with the frequency. Dean and Jo furrowed their brows, the elder Winchester reaching over to tap the deck but the music shut off.

The two shared a bewildered look upon noticing the surroundings were eerily silent and the once filled diner with patrons and staff was now empty, no sign of Sam or Y/N whatsoever. They instantly bursted into action without a word, Dean exiting the drivers side with Jo climbing out of the backseat.

Both rushed over to the diner door, the jingling of the bell and the sound of country music filled their ears, their eyes widening at the scene in front of them, one of the patrons was now laying facedown in a booth, a bullet wound to the back of his head, his cap laying near the puddle of blood.

Their senses heightened in alert as they stepped in, their eyes scanning the diner for any sort of threat. The atmosphere was eerily quiet, all noise cut to a halt, except for the faint sound of the country music playing on the old radio behind the counter. Dean and Jo cautiously moved further inside, weapons drawn, prepared for danger.

Dean as he gripped his holstered gun at the back of his jeans and Jo retrieved hers from her jean jacket. “Sam?!” Dean shouted for his brother. “Y/N?!” Jo called out for her sister, slowly padding into the diner, Jo’s eyes were trapped on the blood leaking down the edge of the table where the innocent man laid in the pool of his own bodily fluids.

“Y/N?! Sammy?!” Dean and Jo called out for them but no response was given. Jo slightly jumped back when her eyes landed on the two dead cooks of the diner behind the counter, both with their throats slit. Their calls echoed through the silent diner, only returned with silence.

Jo’s heart was racing a million beats per minute, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin. She was filled with panic, fear and anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach as she followed Dean through the diner. The sight of the two dead cooks made her blood run cold and she fought the urge to gag at the sight.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his heart pounding as he tried to keep his cool, his hand tightening around his silver revolver. He’d been in tense situations way worse than this, and yet…he couldn’t shake the feeling of pure dread crawling up his spine. “Sam!” He yelled again, his voice hoarse and tense. “Y/N?! Where the hell are you?!”

Dean and Jo walked around the back, stumbling upon the back door. The elder Winchester pushed it open, the rain had come down since they entered the diner, there were no tracks out the back, nothing. As if they had just vanished. Upon taking his hand off the door, Dean felt a weirdly familiar dust coat the side of his hand. His eyes widened as he dusted the yellow sand between his fingers.

His heart rate increased rapidly. Jo turned to him in surprise, her eyes locking on to the dust between his fingers. “Sulfur” They both said in unison. The two rushed out of the diner, screaming the names of their loved ones.

“Sam?!”

“Y/N?!”

“Sammy?!”

“Y/N/N?!”

Their footsteps were heavy through the wet gravel of the parking lot. Their voices echoed through the empty parking lot. Dean and Jo’s breaths were coming out in panicked gasps as they tore through the rain, calling for Sam and Y/N over and over.

“SAM!!! Y/N!!!!”

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

Meanwhile, Sam and Y/N were both passed out on an old board next to each other in a ghost town. Sam’s hand twitched on top of Y/N’s face, accidentally clocking her one in her cheek. Y/N’s eyes shot open, a soft gasp leaving her lips when she found herself woken up to a world rocking punch from Sam and a blinding headache.

"Ow!" She groaned, bringing a hand to her sensitive cheek where Sam's hand had made contact. Her head was spinning and her cheek throbbed with pain from the accidental punch. She shot a glare over to Sam, who was slowly regaining consciousness as well, groaning heavily. "Sam, you stupid fucking idiot." She mumbled, punching him back in his ribcage.

Sam grunted heavily as eyes shot open, his senses slowly coming back to him. His head was pounding, and his vision was blurry with exhaustion. He groaned loudly, rubbing his head before looking down, finding Y/N on the floor next to him, cradling her cheek. "Jesus" He croaked out, wincing, clutching his side. "What...happened?"

“I don’t know” Y/N said in confusion, still gripping her bruised cheek with one hand and her throbbing hand with the other as Sam pushed himself up, struggling to steady himself. Sam took a minute to steady himself, his feet stumbling to keep himself upright. Once he'd stabilized, he turned to Y/N, concern etched on his face as he noticed her holding her hand and bruised cheek.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice gruff yet genuine. Y/N glared at him slightly, clutching her cheek. “Just peachy” She huffed, putting her hand out for him to help her up. Sam looked guilty as he grabbed Y/N's offered hand and aided her up. "Sorry about that." He apologized genuinely, gesturing to her bruised cheek.

Y/N rubbed the tender area of her cheek, wincing slightly as her fingers grazed over the bruise. "It’s fine, I got you back. But I do feel bad for Jo" Y/N teased with a hint of humor in her voice despite the pain. Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes in playful annoyance as they both scanned the deserted town they had woken up in with their eyes. Not a soul in sight.

Panic began to set in for them both as Sam quickly reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. His phone just beeped, indicating there’s no signal. Sam’s fingers trembled as he tried calling for a signal on his phone, but it just continued to display no signal. “Goddammit” He muttered under his breath as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Y/N, where’s your phone?” He asked, his voice growing more desperate in tone. “I left it in the Impala before we went into the diner” She groaned, holding her throbbing forehead. Sam's jaw clenched in frustration and worry. "Dammit!" He exhaled as he began to pace back and forth on the old worn-down board. He tried to think rationally, but panic was taking over.

"We have to find a phone, we need to call Jo and Dean." He spoke, a sense of desperation in his words. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed Sammy but-” She flailed her arms around. “We’re in the middle of NOWHERE!”

"Oh, I'm so glad you just gave me that update, genius." He retorted sarcastically, his words a bit sharper than he intended. He paused, taking a moment to try and center himself before continuing.

"We can’t just stand here waiting," he grumbled under his breath, his eyes scanning the surroundings. “We need to find some way to contact them, even if we have to walk twenty miles on foot." He said determined, marching off to investigate.

Y/N’s eyes widened at his words. “Twenty miles in these boots?? Come on!” She exclaimed, begrudgingly following behind her best friend.

An hour later, the two still hadn’t found anyone or anything in the town. Going up to old buildings, but most of the doors were locked or barred. That was until they heard the floorboards creaking while outside of an old house.

Sam froze in place as they approached another seemingly abandoned house, their ears perked up as they heard the creaking of the floorboards coming from within. He turned to Y/N and held up a hand, signaling her to stay behind him.

Y/N’s eyes landed on two large wooden ply at the front of the door, she reached down slowly and picked them both up, handing one to Sam. Sam took the board from Y/N, and held it in a defensive position, ready in case they had to fight off an unknown danger.

Sam stood for a moment, listening intently to the sounds coming from within. The footsteps grew louder coming towards them and Y/N instantly aimed to hit the person but pulled back upon recognizing them.

“AHHH!!” Andy screamed, backing up into the old wall, holding up his hands. Sam’s eyes widened, “Andy?!” He spoke, lowering the 2x4 in his hand. “Sam. Y/N.” Andy gasped. “What are you two doing here?!” He exclaimed, fully panicked. “We don’t know!” Y/N said back in equal panic and confusion, lowering her wood. “What am I doing here?!” Andy exclaimed again.

“We don’t know. Just-” Sam tried to tell him to calm down but Andy cut him off. “Where are we?!” Andy panicked, Sam and Y/N shared an exasperated look before both tossing their woods aside. “Andy, honey, look. Calm down” Y/N tried to say soothingly but it didn’t seem to help him whatsoever.

“I-I can’t calm down. I have just woke up in fucking Frontierland” Andy’s voice went up an octave as he hyperventilated. “Okay, okay. What’s the last thing you remember?” Sam asked him calmly. Andy panted as he placed his hand to his forehead, “Honestly. My fourth bong-load” Andy panted.

Y/N let out a little snort of amusement, earning a side eye and a nudge to the ribs by Sam. She winced slightly, shooting him a glare as she rubbed her rib while Andy explained. “It was weird. All of a sudden, there was this really intense smell, like, uh-” Sam and Y/N shared a knowing look at this.

“Like sulfur?” She cut him Off. “How did you know that?” Andy gasped. “Dean.” Sam said as he gulped. “Your brother, is he here?” Andy asked hopefully. Y/N’s heart dropped as Sam shook his head. “We don’t know where he is” Y/N’s tone dropped as she toyed with her charm bracelet. “We don’t know if he’s-” Sam’s heart panged at the thought of something happening to Dean or Jo.

A woman screaming in the distance made their heads snap in the direction of the sound. The three instantly began rushing towards the sound of a woman screaming and banging on a wooden crate. “Help me, please!! I’m locked in here!!” The woman’s cries echoed. “Hello?!” Y/N shouted. They stumbled upon the crate, which was locked from the outside.

“Help!! Help me!!!” The woman cried, banging on the door. “Okay, okay. We’re here. We’re gonna get you out, alright?! Just hold on a second!” Sam assured the woman as y/n picked up a stone from the ground and began hitting the lock. After a few strikes, the lock broke. Y/N quickly discarded the rock as Sam took the lock off.

“Alright, one second!” Sam shouted, pulling the door open to reveal Ava. Sam and Y/N’s mouths dropped, “Ava?!” Y/N gasped, “Oh my god, Sam! Y/N!!” Ava sobbed exasperatedly, her tone going up an octave, rushing into Y/N’s arms. The psychic instantly wrapped her arms around her, burying her face in her hair.

Sam let out a breath of relief upon seeing Ava alive and well. Her disappearance haunted him and y/n for months. Andy stood there awkwardly as the two women embraced. “I guess you know each other” He said awkwardly as Ava pulled away from y/n. “Yeah” Sam nodded, only to let out a low, “Oof” as Ava threw herself into his arm.

“How did you-? I mean- how did you-” Ava stuttered, trying to talk. “Ava, have you been here this whole time?” Sam asked her, bewildered. “What whole time? I just woke up in there like half an hour ago!” Ava exclaimed. “Well, you’ve been gone for months. Sam, Dean and I have been looking everywhere for you” Y/N told her, Ava shook her head.

“Okay, that's impossible, because I saw you guys two days ago” Ava scoffed, Sam and Y/N looked at her as if she had grown two heads. “You didn’t, I’m sorry” Sam shook his head. Ava’s face dropped, “But that makes no sense. It’s-” She began sobbing again. “Oh, my God!” She gasped. “My fiancé, Brady, if I’ve been missing for that long, he must be freaking out!”

Sam and Y/N shared a sideways look as Ava sobbed hysterically, a lump growing in Y/N’s throat. “Well-” Sam’s words got caught in his throat. “Oh-” Ava’s face contorted to confusion when her eyes landed on Andy. “Hey. Andy. Also freaking out” Andy awkwardly introduced himself. “Okay. What’s happening?!” Ava screamed.

Y/N ran a hand over her face, sighing heavily. “I don’t know. I don’t really know yet” Sam sighed. A thought popped up in Y/N’s head. “But I know one thing” Y/N began, putting a finger up. “I know what the four of us have in common.” She stated, Sam nodded in agreement. “Hello? Is anybody there?” The sound of an unfamiliar voice of a man in the distance made all their heads snap in the same direction.

“Maybe more than four” Sam muttered, he and y/n nodded in unison before following the sound of the man’s voice.

The four of them walked through the abandoned town, looking for the source of the voice. They rounded a corner and heard the banging of something, they picked up their pace towards the sound.

They stood in front of a small shop, the sound of something banging against wood echoed from inside. “Help! Somebody, anybody” The man’s voice called out desperately.

“Hello?! Hey!” Sam shouted, stumbling upon an African American man in an army uniform and a blonde woman, all seemingly around their age. “Hey, you guys alright?” Y/N asked. “I think so.” The man responded. “I’m Y/N. This is Sam” Y/N introduced them both, gesturing to Sam.

“I’m Jake.” Jake introduced himself. “Lily” Lily, the blonde woman who looked scared, introduced herself. “Are there any more of you?” Sam asked, looking behind them. “No” Jake shook his head. “How did we even get here? A minute ago I was in San Diego” Lily said. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan” Jake countered, making everyone’s jaws drop.

“Let me take a wild guess. You two are both 23?” Y/N asked them. Their eyes widened in disbelief, “Well, we all are. And we all have abilities” Sam added. “What?” Jake asked, clenching his jaw. “It started a little over a year ago, when you found out you can do things. Things you didn’t think were possible” Sam continued. Everyone fell silent.

“Me and Sam have visions. We see things before they happen.” Y/N told them. “Yeah, me too,” Ava muttered. “And I’m telekinetic. I can move things with my mind, like-” Y/N put her right hand out, focusing her energy on the dried dead leaves on the ground. Her eyes flashed white as her veins on her hand ignited to a light shade of aqua blue.

The leaves and small twigs started trembling and floated up a few inches from the ground. The four looked on in awe as Y/N made the sticks fly through the air. Y/N gritted her teeth as she concentrated, causing the dry leaves to fly into the air into a swirling tornado before dropping back down with a heavy thud.

“Okay. That’s cool” Jake muttered, his tone laced with shock. “Yeah, shit took a lot of practice.” Y/N snorted. “Well, that makes my ability to put thoughts into people's heads and make them do stuff seem pretty lame” Andy huffed, Y/N chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Oh, but don’t worry. I don’t think it works on you guys.” Andy added as he walked up the porch.

Y/N’s eyes scanned Jake as Andy spoke, a nagging thought at the back of her head was telling her that she knew him from somewhere but she couldn’t place exactly where. “Oh, but get this, um, I’ve been practicing. Training my brain, like meditation, right? So now, it’s not just thought I can beam out but images too. Like anything I want. It’s like, bam! People, they see it” Andy exclaimed enthusiastically.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head at him. Sam did the same thing, “This one guy I know, total dick. I- i used it on him” Andy laughed as he explained, pointing to his head. “Gay porn, all hours of the day” Andy told them, everyone looked horrified while Y/N bursted out laughing. “It’s just like- you should’ve seen the look on his face” Andy cackled.

Y/N struggled to catch her breath, her sides were aching from laughing so hard. Even Sam cracked a smile at the story, shaking his head, holding back a snort. Meanwhile everyone else was silent, looking at Andy unamused. “Oh, okay…tough crowd” Andy muttered. “So you go, ‘Simon says give me your wallet’ and they do?” Lily asked bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You two have visions? And you can make fucking tornados out of leaves with your mind? That’s great! I’d kill for something like that!” Y/N’s smile faded at the tone of Lily’s voice, sensing the resentment. “Hey. Watch the tone” She warned, an edge to her voice. Everyone fell silent, the air was tense.

Sam stepped in, not wanting Y/N to shank the chick before they could figure out what’s going on. “Lily, listen. It’s okay” Sam tried to calm her down. “No, it’s not! I touch people, their hearts stop” Lily growled. Everyone’s faces dropped and Y/N now felt bad for getting defensive. “I can barely leave my house. My life’s not exactly improved. So fuck you. I just wanna go home” The bitterness in Lily’s tone was evident.

“And what, we don’t?” Jake chimed in. “You know what, don’t talk to me like that-” Lily turned back to give Jake a piece of her mind. “Hey, guys. Come on, whether we like it or not, we’re all here. And so we all have to deal with this” Sam cut her off. “Who brought us here?” Andy asked. Sam and Y/N shared a horrified look, “It’s less of a who. It’s more of a what” Y/N said lowly.

“What does that mean?” Ava asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s- uh-” Sam gulped, y/n was still fiddling with her charm bracelet on her wrist. “It’s a demon,” Sam finally revealed. Lily rolled her eyes, scoffing in disbelief as the place fell silent again.

____________________________________________

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Dean and Jo found themselves back in South Dakota after Sam and Y/N’s sudden disappearance. Upon knowing it’s somehow connected to a demon, they instantly went to Bobby for help. Now in the salvage yard, Bobby had a map pressed against Baby’s hood as Dean and Jo leaned down to get a look of the map. “This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month” Bobby told them.

The duo shot Bobby a questioning look, “You’re joking right? There’s nothing here” Dean scoffed. “Exactly” Bobby shrugged. Their blood pressure skyrocketed. “Come on. There’s gotta be something. I mean, what about the normal, low level stuff?!” Jo exclaimed, “You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing”

“That’s what I’m telling you, idjits. There’s nothing. It’s completely quiet” Bobby pointed out. “Well how are we supposed to look for Sam and Y/N?! What do we just close our eyes and point?!” Dean’s frustration boiled over as he ran a hand over his face. Jo’s phone rang, she eagerly took it out of her pocket, hoping it was Sam or Y/N. Disappointment washed over her when it was just Ash.

“Ash, what do you got?” Jo asked after pressing the answer button, putting the phone on speaker. “Okay, listen, it’s a big negatory on Sam and Cupcake” Ash answered, Dean tried to ignore the burning feeling of agony when Ash called Y/N ‘cupcake’. “Come on, man. You gotta give us something! We’re looking at a 3000-mile haystack here!” Dean bellowed through the speaker.

“Listen, guys, I did find something,” Ash whispered into the phone. “Well, what?” Jo urged him to say, but Ash sounded nervous. “I can’t talk over this line, Jojo.” Ash’s voice cracked. Dean was close to punching a hole in Bobby’s windshield while Jo rolled her eyes. “Come on, we don’t have time for this!” Jo yelled, running a hand through her hair.

“Make time! Okay, because this-…What’s up? What’s going on?” Ash’s words stopped when he saw a Hunter near him. When the hunter walked away, “Not only does this almost definitely help you find Sam and Cupcake, this is…no…It’s huge. So, get here. Now” With the last deathly serious words from Ash, the line went dead.

Jo stared wide eyed at the phone as Dean ran his hand over his face, wiping away the stress sweat beading his forehead. “He can’t be serious,” Dean grumbled. “He is, he definitely is. Ash wouldn’t just fuck around, especially not like this” Jo murmured. Dean sighed heavily, nodding begrudgingly. “I guess we’re going to the Roadhouse. Come on” Dean urged them, hopping into the Impala.

Jo went to follow behind Dean but Bobby stopped her, “Jo” She spun around to face Bobby, “Yeah?” She looked at him in confusion. Bobby reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The keys to Quinn. “Take Quinn, I’ll take my truck. Y/N’s gonna want her bike when we get her back”

Jo gave him a smile, “Thanks” Jo took the keys and hopped into Y/N’s beloved bike, snapping her helmet on. The engine roared to life as it started in the salvage yard, followed shortly by Baby’s engine revving and then the rumbling of Bobby’s truck engine. The three took off down the road, heading for the Roadhouse.

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

“So we’re soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?!” Jake shouted in disbelief at Sam and Y/N, they gave them the rundown of everything and now everyone was freaking out while Lily was a nervous wreck, biting her nails. “When you put it like that-“

“And- and we’ve been picked?” Jake cut Sam off again. “Yes.” Y/N groaned, playing with her lighter in her thumb. Flicking the flame on and off, it was the only way to stop her from twiddling with her bracelet. Jake was getting on her nerves for some reason and she couldn’t really stand the dude, yet, she couldn’t figure out why, or where she knew him from.

“Why us?” Jake asked again. “We’re not sure. Okay, but look, I just know-” Sam tried to reason with everyone. “Sam. I’m sorry, psychos and spoon bending is one thing. But demons?” Ava interrupted him. Her tone seemed overly croaked, Y/N took note of that. “Look, we know it sounds crazy!” Y/N tried to aid Sam's defense, stuffing her lighter in her pocket. “It doesn’t just sound it” Jake cut her off.

“I don’t really care what you think, okay?!” Y/N snapped. “If we’re all gathered here that means something is starting and that we gotta-!” Jake interrupted her again, “The only thing I gotta do is stay away from wack jobs, okay? I’ve heard enough. I’m better off on my own.” Jake shot back, getting up in her face. Sam’s eye twitched, using his left arm to shield Y/N.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Cool it, man” Sam warned, putting his hand up on Jake’s chest to hold him back as he moved between the two. Jake’s eyes flicked from Y/N to Sam before he took a step back, clenching his jaw before walking away. “Jake. Hold on. Jake!” Sam called out for him but he kept walking.

The thunder in the sky rumbled as the place felt heavy, Y/N’s chest felt heavy as a burning feeling at the back of her neck raised. She gasped, a wince leaving her mouth as she clutched the back of her neck. The last time she felt this, it was nothing good. It only meant one thing.

"Y/N?" Sam's worried tone filled her ears but she was too focused on the burning feeling behind her neck. It felt like thousands of needles stabbing through her skin. “Demon” Everyone’s eyes widened at Y/N’s indication, especially Ava’s. “Jake” Sam muttered before rushing behind Jake. The entire group followed behind him.

Sam eventually made it to a house he saw Jake go into to see a demon in the form of a little girl getting ready to maul Jake. He instantly burst into action, grabbing an iron poker near the door, driving it straight through the demon. It disapparated into a cloud of black smoke, causing everyone to gasp and duck as the cloud bellowed through the door and away.

Jake looked absolutely terrified at what he had just witnessed, “Just so you know. That was a demon” Y/N sassed a wide eyed Jake who was struggling to catch his breath.

“Now that thing, I’m not sure, but I think it was an Acheri. A demon that disguises itself as a little girl” Sam explained, the group of five six now outside the house Jake was nearly killed in. “Still doesn’t tell us where we are,” Y/N muttered. “Andy, you with us or what?” Sam asked. “Give me a minute. I’m still working through ‘demons are real’” Andy said, his voice going up an octave.

A few hours later, the group were standing near a large bell in town square. Y/N immediately recognized the bell, nudging Sam gently, “Look familiar?” She whispered, Sam’s eyes snapped over to the bell. His mouth slightly hanging open, “I think I know where we are now. Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled” Sam told the group.

“Swell. Good to know we’re somewhere so historical” Ava said sarcastically. “Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?” Lily asked, terrified. “We’re wondering the same thing” Y/N answered. Lily scoffed, biting her nails. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head before turning away.

“Clearly, the only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of Dodge” She began walking away. “Wait, hold on, Lily. The only way out is through miles of woods” Y/N stopped her. “Beats hanging out with demons!” Lily bit back. Y/N clenched her jaw, internally rolled her eyes. “Lily, look, we don’t know what’s going on yet. I mean, we don’t even know how many of them are out there right now” Sam tried to reason.

“Yeah he’s right. We should just-” Jake added in but Lily snapped. “Don’t say we! I’m not part of we. I have nothing in common with any of you!” She screamed. “Okay, look, look. I know that-” Y/N attempted to be tender with her. “You don’t know anything! I-” Lily shouted, her words dying in her throat, the look of despair and grief etched on her face. “I accidentally touched my girlfriend”

Sympathy filled Sam and Y/N, the younger Winchester felt a bit of relation to what Lily experienced due to the events two years prior. The place fell silent again, the only sound audible was the rumbling of thunder. “I’m sorry” Sam apologized, “Whatever. I feel like I’m in a nightmare and it just keeps getting worse and worse” Lily’s face remained stoic but her voice was filled with pain.

“I’ve lost people too. I have a brother out there right now and my gir- um- friend. They could be dead for all we know” Sam’s voice dropped as he spoke. Y/N’s heart sank as Sam mentioned Dean and the thought of him potentially being dead. Especially Jo, she felt like bursting into tears on the spot at the image in her head.

She tried to push the thought out of her head but she was struggling, they’d already lost so much and she couldn’t imagine losing any more. Clearing her throat, she looked at Sam. “We’re all in bad shape.” She spoke softly, “But I’m telling you. We’re telling you, the best way out of this is to stick together” She said gently, offering Lily her hand.

Lily and Y/N locked eyes, neither breaking contact as everyone waited to see if Lily would take Y/N’s hand. After what felt like a century, Lily sighed heavily before reluctantly, taking Y/N’s hand and squeezing it. “Fine.” Lily agreed.

“We’re looking for iron, silver, salt, any kind of weapon” Sam instructed the four. “Salt is a weapon?” Jake gaped. “It’s a brave new world” Y/N snorted. “Well, hopefully there’s food in your world because I’m fucking starving.” Andy grumbled as they all walked up the porch to an old house, preparing to loot it.

“Amen brother.” Y/N snorted in agreement.

____________________________________________

CE, Nebraska

The Impala, Harley and Bobby’s truck pulled into the Roadhouse’s parking lot to see the once standing hunters bar, now in rubble, burnt to the ground. “What the hell?” Dean muttered, his expression turning to a frown. Quinn’s engine came to a halt when Jo saw her former home in rubble, she immediately took the bike off, practically ripping the helmet off of her head.

“No. No. No. No. No!” Jo yelled out in disbelief, she ran over to the crumbled building as Dean and Bobby hopped out of the Impala. “Jo, no!” Dean tried to stop her from going closer. But it was too late.

Jo pushed past the wooden barrier and began sifting through the rubble. She found scraps of leather and torn flannel, her mother’s flannel. Her heart dropped and she felt nauseous. “Oh my God” Bobby muttered, he felt sick to his stomach as he stared down at the charred bodies of fellow hunters.

The worst came to Jo’s mind, the possibility that her mother and Ash were inhere with all of the dead hunters. Jo fell to her knees in the middle of the rubble, her head grew fuzzy as her world began to spin. “Mom?! Ash!? MOMMY?!” Painful sobs tore from her throat, the huntress clutched her stomach, the grief overwhelming her.

First Sam and Y/N disappear, and now the Roadhouse, the only place she had ever called home, was burnt to a crisp with so many loved ones inside. Dean and Bobby exchanged a look, they were at a loss for what to do or even how to make this situation any better. Jo was breaking to pieces in front of them.

“Jo-“ Dean started to speak only to get interrupted by Jo’s sharp tone. “Don’t.” She snapped, “Just- don’t.” Jo looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, hurt etched across her face. “Just help me look f-“ Her words died in her throat as she began digging through the rubble, hoping beyond hope that there was a possibility her mother and Ash survived.

With heavy hearts and without a word, the two men obliged and began searching the pile of wood and rubble with Jo. It only made the whole situation more dire for both of them as each time they moved a piece, the bodies of a hunter or two became exposed. They could only imagine how Jo felt at that moment.

Upon digging up the rubble, Dean’s eyes landed on the charred arm with a familiar watch on. It was Ash. Jo’s head snapped over to Dean when she heard him say. “Oh, Ash. dammit it.” Her tear stricken eyes wide. “No” Jo whispered, her heart clenching in his chest. Bobby was looking at Ash’s watch, his breath hitched. “Fuck” Bobby muttered quietly.

Jo looked back down at the ground, her body numb as Bobby and Dean dug up Ash’s motionless body. It was a sickening sight. She covered her mouth with her hand, tears streaming down her face again. The fact that the last conversation that had over the phone was them yelling at each other tore into her heart.

She pushed herself up from her knees and slowly padded over to them, sinking back onto her knees in-front of one of her last remaining pieces of family. Now deceased. Bobby put a large calloused hand on her shoulder as Dean and Jo looked down at Ash’s body, no one was exactly sure what to say.

There was no consolation for losing someone. It was a feeling they all could relate to. “Jo, I’m so sorry” Bobby’s voice was gruff, the older man’s grief was evident in his voice. “This isn’t fair” She sobbed out, her chin quivering.

“I know. I know” Bobby was at a loss for words again, he had never seen Jo cry like this, not even after her father died, she was more distant when Bill died. It’s as if everything that was trapped in her was now coming out. It was absolutely heart-wrenching.

Dean placed his hand on Jo’s shoulder, rubbing it slowly. He didn’t say anything. Nothing was going to make anything better than it was in that moment so he didn’t even bother. “Mom. We have to find my mom” Jo croaked out, her head still bowed as she clutched onto Ash’s warm charred hand. “She’s not here, kiddo,” Bobby stated.

Jo’s head lifted up, her eyes wide, “What?” It was a quiet sound but it was so loud and filled with hope.

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

Sam and Y/N were in one room, rummaging through the cabinets for any weapons. “You got your butterfly knife?” Sam asked Y/N. She smirked, reaching into her boot. “You know it” She chuckled, flicking the knife open. “No bastard is taking it away from me this time”

Sam nodded in approval, admiring the knife that Y/N had a death grip on. He wasn’t surprised, she’d always liked knives, hell, he’s pretty sure the only reason she loved it so much is because Dean got it for her.

Ava’s groaning behind them caught their attention, “Hey. You alright, hun?” Y/N asked her softly as the fellow female psychic clutched her forehead. “Yeah. I’m just-…I don’t know. A little dizzy” Ava croaked, holding her head, she seemed to be in pain but to Y/N it looked like she was concentrating on something. Similar to the way Y/N was whenever she manifested her telekinetic abilities.

Sam’s brows furrowed in concern, “Are you sure it’s not some kind of-” Ava cut him off. “What? Some kind of freaky vision thing?” Ava scoffed. “No. More like, I’d kill for a sandwich. I haven’t eaten since-…Well, who knows” She sighed, this made the duo feel sympathetic towards her. “No, it’s- don’t worry. I’m fine, except for every single thing that’s happening” She assured them with a faux smile of enthusiasm.

Y/N and Sam chuckled awkwardly at her tone., “Hey guys, I found something!” Andy called out to them from downstairs. The three made their way down the dirty steps to see Andy next to Jake, holding up two bags with a wide grin. “Salt” Andy almost giggled proudly. “That’s great, Andy. Now we all can s-” Sam’s words died in his throat when he realized someone was missing.

“Where’s Lily?” He asked urgently. Everyone’s faces dropped. “Lily?!” Y/N called out for her in the house but there was no response. “LILY?!” Sam bellowed, his throat rasping, sounding quite similar to Dean. It surprised Y/N and made her flinch slightly along with Ava. Y/N hissed as the heat behind her neck raised and pricked at her skin, this alerted Sam.

The sound of a little girl giggling and Y/N’s sensory going off indicated that there were demons around. The group rushed outside to see Lily hanging from the windmill across the house, dead. “Oh my, God” Ava gasped theratically, placing a hand over her mouth in faux disgust. Y/N’s heart sank at the sight of the broken girl hanging off of the windmill like an animal.

“Okay, that’s officially- Sam! Y/N! She’s dead, she’s dead!” Ava sobbed. “You two said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen. That’s…killed!” She continued to ramble as everyone had their eyes locked on Lily’s corpse. “Okay, no. We have to get out of here” Ava insisted, trying to push past Sam. “Stop” He held her back. “Yeah, I second that emotion” Andy murmured.

“Not sure that’s an option” Jake said, shaking his head. “What?!” Ava exclaimed. “Lily was trying to leave. The demon’s not gonna let us get away that easy.” Y/N explained. “We gotta gear up for the next attack” Sam said determinedly. “Oh, gear up?” Ava scoffed. “Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Okay, well, I’m not a soldier. I can’t do that!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Ava’s words, “Look, if you wanna stay alive, you’re gonna have to!” She snapped at Ava who had tears welling up in her eyes, but Ava didn’t look genuinely terrified. “Let’s go,” Sam pointed to the house, instructing everyone to go inside. Ava was first to run in, whimpering as she entered. “I’ll get her down,” Jake said.

Y/N sighed heavily, her mind running on Dean and Jo. “You know, I’m just thinking about how much Dean and Jo would help right now” Y/N said to Sam and Andy, stuffing her hands in her leather jacket’s pocket. “Yeah, I’d give my arm for a working phone” Sam agreed, “You know, you make not need one” Andy suddenly said, this made their heads snap over to him.

“I, uh, I’ve never tried it long distance before. But, do you have anything of Dean’s on you? Like something he touched?” Andy asked them, Sam frowned, shaking his head. Y/N patted her pockets down, frowning and she came up with nothing. “No, nothing” Y/N sighed. A flicker of frustration passed behind Sam’s eyes, he rubbed his palm against his face.

A thought popped into Y/N’s head, “I’m wearing some of his shirts, would that work?” She asked Andy. Andy nodded, “Yeah, that might work” He murmured. Y/N swiftly pulled off her leather jacket, revealing one of Dean’s flannels that he’d let her borrow a few nights prior paired with his Led Zeppelin shirt she claimed as her own weeks ago.

Y/N shoved the leather jacket in Sam’s hands, “Hold this” She told him. He took it without a word, his eyes locked on the flannel that was draped across her arms. Y/N handed it to Andy, who took it and held the sleeve in his hands, closing his eyes to concentrate.

____________________________________________

CE, Nebraska

“This is-” Bobby murmured as he, Jo and Dean walked off of the burnt to crisp Roadhouse’s rubble. “What the hell did Ash know? We got know clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now how the fuck are we gonna find Sam and Y/N!?” Dean shouted in frustration as they headed back to their vehicles.

“And we got no way of knowing where my mom is or if-” Jo’s voice cracked, her nostrils flaring as fresh tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks. Her mascara smudged from earlier. “Jo, hey. I know it’s scary-” Bobby started. “Scared?” Jo’s voice was strained and hoarse, she was barely speaking above a whisper.

“Yeah. I’m scared, you know why? Cause I don’t know if my mom’s dead or alive. And if Sam and Y/N are okay?” She snapped. Dean stopped and looked back at her, his eyes locking on hers, which were now bloodshot. “Hey, we will find them. And your mom” He tried to comfort her.

Dean suddenly buckled over, clutching his head as a splitting migraine shot through his head. “Dean?” Bobby and Jo called out for him in unison as he grunted, “Fuck!” Dean groaned, clutching into Baby’s hood. “You alright, dude?” Jo asked, rushing over to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean groaned again against the throbbing pain shooting through his head.

“Yeah” He hissed, pushing himself to a standing position, he pushed his hair back away from his forehead. The migraine intensified. Then suddenly he saw an image of a bell appear in his head. “What was that?” Jo asked, confused. “I don’t know. Headache” Dean gritted his teeth in pain as Jo placed the back of his hand to his forehead.

“You get headaches like that a lot?” Bobby asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “No.” Dean gasped out as Jo took her hand off of his forehead, his chest was heaving as he struggled for breath. “Must be the stress” He said breathlessly with a weak chuckle and wiping his forehead. “I could’ve sworn I saw something”

Bobby and Jo’s brows skyrocketed, a look of recognition took over Bobby’s face. “What do you mean, like- like a vision? Like what Sam and Y/N get?” Bobby asked. “What?! No!” Dean exclaimed. “I’m just saying” Bobby put his hands up in surrender. “Come on, I’m not some psychic. I don’t have that ESP shit” Right after those words left Dean’s mouth, he buckled over in pain again.

Clutching his forehead. “Dean!” Bobby and Jo exclaimed as Dean almost fell to the ground. Bobby rushed over to his side of the Impala, helping Jo in keeping him on his feet. The image of the bell again with Sam and Y/N flashed through his head again, Dean was practically clutching his pearls as he grunted from the shooting migraine.

Dean Winchester never felt pain like that in his life, and to be quite Frank, if this is what y/n and Sam felt when they had visions. He felt sorry for them for having to go through this pain. Now he gets why y/n was always so snappy whenever she had her own migraines. They must’ve been worse than Sam’s.

“Are you okay?! What was that, you see something again?” Jo exclaimed as he stood back up after a few moments, panting as he tried to catch his breath. “You with us?” Bobby exclaimed in worry. “Yeah, I think so,” Dean groaned. “I saw Y/N and Sam. I saw them, guys” Dean tried to explain, the migraine still pounding in his head. “It was a vision” Jo murmured in shock.

“Yeah. I don’t know how. But, yeah. Ugh” Dean huffed, breathing heavily as he steadied himself. “That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels” Dean weakly chuckled. “What else did you see?” Bobby asked urgently. “Uh….There was a bell” Dean answered. “What kind of bell?” Jo asked, narrowing her eyes. “Uh, like a b-big bell with…uh…some kind of engraving on it, I don’t know,” Dean told them.

Bobby and Jo shared an alarmed look, “Engraving? Was it a tree? Like an oak tree” Bobby asked. Dean’s brows furrowed at them, “Yeah, exactly.” He confirmed. Jo and Bobby exchanged a knowing and alarmed look. “I know where they are”

____________________________________________

Cold Oak, South Dakota

Sam, Y/N and Jake were now chipping away at a steel tank with rocks, trying to break away any bars from it to use as weapons. Jake got tired and suddenly ripped out one of the bars, shocking both Sam and Y/N. “Awesome” Y/N muttered in awe, now wishing she had that ability. Sam’s brows raised in Jake's direction.

The army vet cleared his throat, “I’m- I’m not Superman or anything. It’s no big deal” He chuckled, shooting Y/N a sly wink. “You were in Afghanistan when this started?” Y/N asked curiously, a coy smile playing on her face. Her vibe with Jake was still off, but she figured you catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar.

So being sweet was her go to in order to find out how and where she knew Jake from. “Yeah, I started getting headaches. And then, uh…there was this accident. This guy flipped his vehicle on a bad road. He got pinned underneath. I lifted it off him like it was nothing” Jake explained as Sam and Y/N listened. “Everybody said it was a fluke adrenaline thing-”

“But then you did it again, right?” Sam asked knowingly, “Bench press 800 pounds stone-cold calm” Jake snorted. Sam and Y/N chuckled at this, “I never told anymore of course. It’s just too crazy” Jake admitted, cracking a smile. “Yeah, but crazy’s relative” Sam mused, nudging Y/N in her arm. “I’m starting to get that,” Jake said.

“Yeah” Y/N sighed, the two shared a lingering eye contact, a small smile gracing Y/N’s face. Jake returned the smile. There was an intimate silence between the three as they continued to chip away at the tank. The sound of rocks against metal echoed in the empty room, a sign that they were making some solid progress.

“By the way. I, uh- I appreciate what you two are doing here” Jake said honestly. “What are we doing?” Y/N asked, tilting her head in confusion. “Keeping calm. Keeping them calm.” Jake answered, referring to the other psychics. “Especially considering how freaked to hell you guys really are” Jake called them out.

Sam and Y/N shared a knowing look, knowing that they couldn't hide their growing fear from him. “Is it that obvious?” She questioned jokingly, although the question was somewhat serious. “Yeah” Jake chuckled.

“I’ve been in some deep shit before myself, sweetheart. I know the look” Jake said seriously to them. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as his words. She shook it off and pushed her focus back on the task at hand.

But Sam opened up, “You wanna know the truth? I got this brother, right? He’s always saying how he’s gonna watch out for me, watch out for y/n. Watch out for the both of us, how everything’s gonna be okay, kind of like I’m telling them” Sam swallowed the lump in his throat.

Tears pricked the corners of Y/N’s eyes, her heart ached at the mention of Dean. Knowing that he’d be beating himself up and freaking out for her and Sam as well. “Yeah?” Jake hummed. “But the fact of the matter is, I don’t know if I believe it this time,” Sam confessed. Y/N wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him into her side, resting her head against her his shoulder.

Jake nodded at Sam, understanding and sympathising with him. “What do you mean ‘you don’t believe it’?” The army veteran asked. A beat of silence passed as the two siblings shared a look. “I mean, the size of what’s coming…it’s bigger than anyone’s ever seen. I mean, it’s gonna get bad. And I- I don’t know if-” Sam stammered, trying not to cry as Y/N stroked his back comfortingly.

“If you’re gonna make it?” Jake cut in. “Doesn’t matter if we believe. Only matters that they do.” Jake stated firmly. Sam’s head went to the ground, “Y-yeah” He agreed. Y/N kept patting and rubbing his back in comfort, she tried to keep her tears from streaming down her face as she bit her quivering bottom lip.

The three continued to chip away at the tank in an awkward silence as the room echoed with the loud sound of rocks smacking against metal.

The group were lining the windows and doors with salt, Sam and Y/N were tired from all the hammering so they sat at a table in comfortable silence. “You know, my horoscope said I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed” Ava chuckled dryly as she rested the empty salt bag next to Y/N. The two hunters sighed deeply.

“How are you guys doing? Holding up?” Ava asked them softly. The two nodded, “I’m okay” Sam assured her. “Me too” Y/N responded. “What about you, hun?” She asked Ava. “Not so okay.” Ava admitted, chucking dryly. “Why us, guys? What did we do to deserve this?” Ava asked them, tears pricking at her eyes. “Just lucky I guess,” Sam scoffed.

“Wasn't for bad luck, wouldn’t have no luck at all” Ava snorted as thunder rumbled outside. “I just can’t wait for all this to be over so I can just pretend it never happened.” Ava sighed, looking up to the ceiling. “I just wanna curl up with Brady and watch bad TV” she smiled, Sam and Y/N’s hearts dropped at this. They forgot they hadn’t mentioned that Brady was dead.

Their expressions changed and Ava seemed to notice, “What is it?” She asked them. But they both shook their heads. “Sam, Y/N” Ava pressed. “Do you guys…know something that I don’t?” She asked. Their hearts ached for her, but the words were on the tip of their tongue. They wanted to break the news to her gently, but there was no easy way to say it. Sam and Y/N shared a look, neither one of them wanted to have this conversation with Ava.

“Look, Ava. I’m sorry, I wish I didn’t have to tell you this” Sam began sorrowfully. “Tell me what?” Ava’s voice dropped. Y/N sighed, taking Ava’s hand into hers. “When the demon…broke into your house to take you…your fiancé didn’t make it, I’m sorry” Y/N finally revealed. Ava’s face dropped in shock, her eyes widened in horror as she stared at them.

“No, it’s-?” She whispered, she seemed to be in a state of denial of the news. Ava threw herself into Sam and Y/N’s arms, sobbing painfully. Y/N and Sam held her as she sobbed into their shoulders, they comforted her, rubbing her back as she got it all out.

It was getting late, everyone was tired. Jake was standing guard while Andy was fast asleep on a table and Ava looked distant. Sam was trying to get some shut eye, his head resting on Y/N’s lap as he struggled to get to sleep. “Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, Sammy?” Y/N teased, snorting in amusement.

Sam rolled his eyes playfully and chuckled, “Shut up, Y/N/N” He grumbled in annoyance, opening his eyes to glare at her but there was no heat behind it. Sam chuckled lightly before his face turned serious, “Are you gonna get some sleep as well? You need it” He questioned. “Nah, you go ahead, I’m good” Y/N shook her head.

Sam pursed his lips and hummed, knowing that she was lying. “I’m serious, I’m alright” She told him firmly, sensing the worry in his eyes. “Come on, you’re exhausted, you should get some sleep” Sam pushed, sitting up to look at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, shaking her head again. She wasn’t gonna admit it, but she was tired. Her head throbbed and her cheek still slightly stung from Sam’s punch to her face 24 hours earlier. “I’m fine, Sa- JAKE!” Y/N exclaimed when her eyes glanced over to see a man, his eyes glowing yellow standing behind Jake.

Sam’s head snapped in the direction. “Jake! Behind you!” He tried to warn Jake but he didn’t seem to hear him. “Howdy, Sammy. Howdy, Y/N/N” Azazel smirked, leaning against the wall. Y/N’s heart began racing, her worst nightmare was coming to life. The yellow eyed demon who killed her mother was once again in front of her, and she was scared shitless.

Sam was on the same boat as her. But they weren't gonna show it.

Their chests heaved as they put two and two together as to why no one else can hear them. “We’re dreaming” Y/N gasped as she and Sam backed into the wall, still sitting by the window still. Azazel chuckled darkly, “Why don’t you say…we all take a little walk?” He ordered, leaning off the wall to move closer to them.

Sam and Y/N shared a look, knowing that they didn’t have a choice. So they stood up, never breaking eye contact with Azazel as they did. He gestured with his hand for them to follow him outside so they did just that.

Sam and Y/N were practically glued to each other's side as Azazel took the lead, walking out the house with them. “You’re awfully quiet Sam and Y/N. You guys aren’t mad at me, are ya?” Azazel mused. Y/N was glaring daggers at the back of the demon's head along with Sam who was trying his best to keep it together.

“I’m gonna tear you to shreds. I swear” Sam growled. Azazel just laughed in response. Azazel continued to chuckle, which made Y/N’s blood boil. “When you wake up, tiger, take your best shot” Azazel laughed. Sam bared his teeth, gritting them together as he clenched his fists. “You find this funny, dickbreath?!” Y/N snapped.

Azazel spun on his heel, a mockingly shocked expression on his face. “Y/N, that’s no way for a lady to talk!” Azazel exclaimed in fake shock. “I’d call you a lot worse things than that, jackass” Y/N snarled through gritted teeth. “Where’s my brother and Jo?” Sam clenched his jaw. “Quit worrying about Dean and your little bimbo. I’d worry more about yourselves”

Azazel’s words sent a chill down Y/N’s spine, she didn’t like the sound of that. “What, you gonna kill us?” Sam challenged, his fear diminishing each second. “Hit us with your best shot, cunt” Y/N snarked as she and Sam opened their arms out mockingly. “That a dare?” Azazel challenged, a dark look in his eyes.

The two of them smirked, “You bet your ass” Y/N and Sam affirmed in unison. Azazel narrowed his eyes on them. “I’m trying to help you two. That's why we’re talking. Truth be told, I think it’s gonna come down to you two.” Their blood ran cold, all color from their faces drained at his words. “W-what’s that supposed to mean?” Sam’s voice shook with fear.

“Welcome to the Miss America Pageant. Why do you think you’re here? This is a competition” Azazel revealed to them, putting up a finger. “Only one of you crazy kids is gonna make it out of her alive.” His words hit them like a truck. Their eyes widened as they stared at him, their breathing quickened as they tried to wrap their heads around what he was saying. “I thought we were supposed to be-” Y/N stammered.

“Soldiers in a coming war? That’s true. You are. But here’s the thing.” Azazel confirmed, placing up a finger to lean in for only them to hear, even though there’s no one around. “I need soldier” His voice dropped, “I just need the one” Sam and Y/N’s hearts dropped in their stomachs, dread filling their eyes as their mouths went dry.

They didn’t like the sound of this one bit. “Why?” Sam croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Well, I couldn’t just come out and say that, could I? I had to let everyone think they had a fighting chance” Azazel smirked as Sam and Y/N stared at him horrified. “But what I need….is a leader”

“To lead who?” Y/N snapped, “Oh, I’ve already got my army. Or…I will soon, anyway” Azazels gaze darkened as he spoke. “You sick son of a bitch” Sam growled, “Honestly, I’m surprised you two hadn’t guessed. I mean, why do you think so many children flame out already?” The demon chuckled, pacing slowly in front of them.

“Max Miller and Andy’s brother, what’s his name? They weren’t strong enough. I’m looking for the best and brightest of your generation” Y/N was seeing red, she wanted to knock the smarmy look right off his face. “Our generation” Sam asked, his tone dripping with anger, Y/N’s body started to shake with equal anger.

Azazel nodded, “Well…there’s other generations. But let’s just worry about yours” he chuckled, making her blood boil. “That’s why I’m here, I wanna give you guys the inside track.” Azazel stated, walking closer to them. “You two are tough, smart, well-trained. Thanks to your daddies.”

Y/N bared her teeth, “Don’t you bring my father into this!” She seethed through gritted teeth. Azazel chuckled at her, “Touchy, touchy” he teased, making Sam and Y/N’s eyes twitch in anger. “Sam. Sammy. Y/N. Y/N/N. You’re my favorites.” Azazel’s voice dropped as he spoke. “You ruined our lives. You killed everyone I love” Sam’s nostrils flared, the words leaving his mouth with pure distaste.

“The cost of doing business I’m afraid” Azazel whispered. “I mean…sweet little Jessica. She just had to die. You were all set to marry that little blonde thing. Become a tax lawyer with two kids, a beer gut and a McMansion in the suburbs.” Sam’s eyes further darkened with each word the demon spoke, Y/N was ready to maul the son of a bitch.

“I needed you two sharp, on the road, honing your skills….your gifts. If anything, you should be thanking me. Or else, you wouldn’t have met your little bimbo, Jo” A dark smirk graced the demon's face.Y/N’s entire face went red in anger, she felt her fingers begin to burn. “Don’t you bring Jo into this either!” Y/N hissed, taking a step forward but was held back by Sam’s arm in front of her.

Azazel chuckled at her, the sick bastard was enjoying getting under Y/N and Sam’s skin. Sam was clenching his jaw so tightly, Y/N was worried he would grind his teeth to nubs. “Don’t you say a word about her” he growled in warning, the venom in his voice making Azazel chuckle darkly.

“What are you, a little defensive? A little protective?” Azazel questioned, cocking his mockingly. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he pushed Y/N behind him, taking a step forward, he was now nearly toe to toe with the demon. “You don’t get to talk about her.” He snarled, his hands curling into fists at his side.

“Not when you killed our moms!” Y/N snapped, tip toeing to shout over Sam’s shoulder. “That was bad luck,” Azazel grinned. “Bad luck?” Sam scoffed. “They walked in on me. Wrong place, wrong time” Azazel sighed. “What the fuck does that mean?” Y/N scoffed. “It wasn’t about them. It was about you and you. It's always been” Azazel pointed to them individually.

“What?” Sam and Y/N croaked in unison. “Okay. You caught me in a charitable mood. I’ll show you” Azazel smirked, snapping his fingers.

Y/N gasped as she opened her eyes. She was no longer next to Sam, he was out of sight and the yellow-eyed demon stood next to her. Her eyes widened as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings. It was a nursery. Her nursery. “Look familiar? It should” Azazel whispered into her ear. “Sam?! Sammy?!” Y/N panicked, looking around for him.

Y/N’s eyes were filled with panic when she couldn’t find Sam, a lump was starting to form in her throat. She gasped when her eyes landed on a baby crib with a baby in it. It was her, as a baby. Y/N couldn’t think straight as she tried to take in the surroundings.

Azazel placed a hand on her shoulder, his fingers pressing down on her shoulder as she watched her younger self in the crib. Her jaw clenched when she saw a hooded figure walk into the nursery and pad over to her crib. Y/N instantly went to attack but Azazel pulled her back.

“Relax, Y/N. This is just a hi-def instant replay. Enjoy the show” Azazel said. Y/N snatched the demon by his collar and sent his back barreling into the wall. “Where’s Sam, motherfucker?!” Y/N shouted, her eyes narrowing to slits at Azazel, pure rage fueling through her veins.

Y/N was shaking with anger as she pinned the demon to the wall, her fist curled in his collar. Azazel let out a dark chuckle as he was shoved against the wall, his hands gripped her wrist, trying to pry her off of him. “You’re feisty” he taunted, an amused smirk on his face.

Y/N bared her teeth at him, “Answer me! Where is he?! WHERE’S MY BROTHER?!” She yelled. “Relax, your precious Sammy is safe” He reassured her, although there was a hint of smugness in his tone. Azazel’s words didn’t relax her in the slightest. Instead, Y/N just got angrier. “I don’t believe a word that comes out of your lying, demonic mouth” she seethed, pressing harder into his collar.

The yellow-eyed demon chuckled, he found her anger to be adorable. “Relax, my dear. We have a surprise guest” he cooed, nodded his head in the direction behind her. Y/N’s heart was seconds away from falling out of her chest when she saw her mother’s sleepy face appear in the doorway.

She wore a black nightgown that nearly reached the floor, squinting her eyes at the figure hovering over her crib. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she watched a younger version of her own mother, “F/N?” Her mom’s sleepy voice croaked. “Momma?” Y/N’s grip loosened on the demon's collar, turning to face the door where M/N stood.

“Is she hungry?” M/N asked the figure, thinking it was her husband. A six-month old Y/N was crying in her crib. “Shhh” The figure shushed baby Y/N, “Okay” M/N shrugged, not realizing that it was in fact a demon standing over her babygirl’s crib. “No! Mom!” Y/N gasped, her eyes glued to the scene. She wanted to cry out to her mother to run but she found herself frozen in place.

Her mother, completely unsuspecting what was actually happening, slowly turned and padded out of the room. Y/N felt like her heart was breaking in her chest as she watched her mother turn and leave, “No…momma” she whispered, her voice cracking as tears began to sting her eyes. “What did I just tell you, Y/N, she can’t hear you. This isn’t real” Azazel scoffed.

“Watch closely” he whispered in her ear. “Shut the fuck up before I gut you” Y/N snapped, her eyes glancing back to the crib. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the demon cut his wrist open over younger self and allowed his blood to drop into her mouth. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” She gasped, her stomach beginning to churn.

“Better than mother’s milk,” Azazel chuckled. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick, her stomach did backflips as she watched as her infant self drank the demon blood. “Does this mean I have- does this mean Sam has-“ Y/N couldn’t get the words out. Azazel chuckled at her horrified expression. “Oh, it’s not so bad. Sam has it too” he smirked. “We have demon blood in us!?”

Suddenly, M/N ran back into the room. Causing Y/N’s head to snap over to her direction. “It’s you” M/N gasped at the figure, “She knew you” Y/N realized. Her mom’s eyes flashed white, she extended her arm, her veins lighting up a darker shade of blue compared to how Y/N’s would normally glow. With a tilt of her head, she sent Azazel barreling into the wall.

“Mom!” Y/N gasped, watching the scene in front of her. The pain potent in her voice. Her jaw dropped when she saw her mother’s fingertips turn blue- and then push a full-grown man into a wall as if he was nothing more than a small child. She’d never seen her mom using her powers before. It was like a dream.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Feisty mama” Azazel grunted, recovering from being slammed into the wall. He stood up, straightening out his suit, “Bravo” He clapped his hands together in mock applause, although Y/N could tell there was a hint of annoyance in his tone.

M/N rushed over to the crib, her eyes scanning over younger Y/N’s body, checking for any injury. “No!!” Y/N screamed when Azazel's younger self waved his hand in a swift motion and M/N’s back hit the wall. She began grunting as she slid upwards and towards the ceiling. A strangled cry left Y/N’s throat as she watched her mother hit the wall and begin to lift off the ground.

A pained gasp leaving M/N’s throat to show the amount of pressure being put on her body. “I don’t think you wanna see the rest of this” Azazel smirked before waving his hand in the air.

“Y/N!! Sam!!” The two gasped awake to see Andy and Jake standing in front of them. Sam shot up from his position on Y/N’s lap. “Ava’s missing” Jake told them, his tone filled with concern. Sam and Y/N were both disoriented, still trying to piece together what they saw. “What do you mean missing?” Y/N asked, her heart thudding in her chest.

Jake’s face was filled with dread as he spoke, “She’s gone. Just vanished” he explained. “Fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pulling her knife out of her boot before rushing out the house. Sam and Jake followed behind her after telling Andy to stay at the house in case Ava came back.

Sam was still trying to piece together the fragments of his vision as he and Y/N both burst out of the house. Jake was practically on his heels behind them. “I’ll take the barn and the hotel, you guys take the houses” Jake said to them. “Alright, meet back here in 10 minutes, okay?” Sam responded. “Okay” Jake nodded before heading in the other direction.

Not even five minutes had gone by and the sounds of Ava’s terrified screams came from inside the house they were originally in. Their gazes both went to the house as they heard Ava’s scream coming from inside. “Ava!” Y/N yelled out, her heart thumping in her chest. Before Sam could say anything, Y/N was already rushing towards the house.

Sam cursed under his breath as he saw Y/N run into the house. He quickly ran after her, just as desperate to get to Ava. With heavy feet, the two hunters followed to the sound of her scream to see Ava sobbing over a now deceased Andy’s body. Her face smeared with his blood, the former psychic bleeding from claw marks on his chest.

A strangled gasp left Sam’s throat at the sight of Andy’s lifeless body laying on the floor. Y/N’s blood ran cold at the sight, her eyes going from Andy’s body to Ava, who was sobbing uncontrollably over his body. “Sam! Y/N! I just found him like this!”

“What happened?” Y/N asked, clutching his stomach with a hand. “I don’t know” Ava sobbed. “How the fuck did the bastard get in?” Y/N snarled as she checked every salt line, knowing a demon had done it by the burning energy she felt radiating off of Andy’s body and the room. She was able to feel it since the death was quite recent.

Y/N peeled back the window to see a salt line was perfectly broken. Her jaw clenched as the worst possible reason came to mind. She nudged Sam, pointing to the salt line. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at the broken salt line on the window, a wave of anger washed over him as all the pieces finally clicked in his head.

“Son of a…” he swore, his hands clenched into fists at his side. They gave each other a firm nod, communicating with their eyes before turning to Ava. “Ava, where were you?” Sam snapped. “I just went to get some water from the well. I was only gone for maybe like two minutes” Ava sobbed, quite overdramatically.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at her, “Who did that?” She pointed to the broken salt line. “I don’t know! Maybe Andy-” Ava cried, her eyes filling with tears as Y/N questioned her. Sam glanced at Y/N, she clearly had doubts about Ava too. “Andy wouldn’t do that.” Sam snapped again. “Ava. That line wasn’t broken when we left” Y/N stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? You don’t think I-?” Ava asked, her tone suddenly very defensive. Y/N raised her eyebrows, Ava’s tone only added to her suspicions. Sam cut her off again, “I’ll tell you what we think. Five months. You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for” Sam stated in an accusatory tone.

“But that headache you got, when the demon got Lily” Y/N growled as she moved closer to have. “What are you trying to say?” Ava’s voice cracked. “What happened to you?” Sam narrowed his eyes at Ava. “Nothing!” Ava screamed insistently through tears. But Sam and Y/N didn’t believe her or her act.

“Bullshit!” Y/N snapped, her patience with Ava running thin. Ava’s eyes suddenly darkened, a dark laugh leaving her throat as she wiped away the faux-tear from her eye. “I had you guys going though, didn’t I?” She chuckled, as she continued to wipe away her tears. “Yeah” She confirmed, flicking away the tears from her fingers.

“I’ve been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us.” Sam and Y/N’s stomachs dropped at the change in Ava’s demeanor, it was clearly a complete switch up from how she was acting only moments before. Their eyes remained glued on her, every muscle of their bodies tensed, preparing to strike if she made the first move.

“Batches of three or four at a time.” Ava smirked. “You killed them? All of them?” Sam’s tone dropped, the disbelief clear in his voice. “I’m the undefeated heavyweight champion” Ava smirked, her time braggy. “Oh my god” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head. “Don’t think God has much to do with that, Y/N” Ava whispered.

“How could you?” Sam gaped, “I had no choice. It was me or them. After a while, it was easy” Ava shrugged as if it was nothing. “It was even kind of fun.” Y/N narrowed her eyes as Ava’s words, allowing her arms to drop to her sides. “You wanna know what’s gonna be fun, bitch? When I rip you limb from limb”

Ava chuckled, her eyes narrowing, “You think you can take me?” She asked, smirking. “I’ll bet I can,” Y/N growled. Sam shot Y/N a quick look, silently begging her to be smart. As skilled as Y/N was, he didn’t want her to get hurt.

“It’ll only be a fair fight when you stop fighting it” Ava whispered with a cocky grin. “Fighting what?” Sam asked as he swallowed harshly. “Who we are, Sam. If you just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do” Ava exclaimed, her eyes flickering back over to Y/N.

“I can see you’re almost there” She smirked at her. Sam’s mind was racing at Ava’s words, what did she mean by ‘open up, who they are’? And what could Y/N be almost to? These questions were racing through his mind as he clenched and unclenched his fists with nervousness. Y/N was thinking all the same things.

“The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy. The switches that just flip in your brain” Ava explained, snapping her fingers before bursting into laughter. “I can’t believe I started out just having dreams” She laughed. “Do you know what I can do now?” Y/N felt a splitting migraine form in her head again, but she ignored it, clenching her jaw.

“Control demons” Y/N snapped, clutching her head. “Ah…you guys are quick on the draw” Ava snorted before placing her fingers to her temples, silently concentrating. Both Sam and Y/N were both still reeling at all the things Ava had told them when suddenly, a black cloud came through the window and through the salt like.

Y/N felt not only the migraine attack her but behind her neck was burning, causing her to stumble back a few steps. Her hand instantly went to her temple as she groaned softly. “I’m sorry guys but, it’s over” Ava smirked. Sam and Y/N glared at her, Sam held up his iron poker and Y/N held up her iron butterfly knife, still clutching her head.

Jake then appeared behind Ava, the army vet pulled her into his chest before swiftly snapping her neck. Y/N’s head was spinning at Ava’s words as her vision began to blur. But she was snapped out of it when she heard the sound of Ava’s neck being snapped. She stumbled slightly backwards, a wave of relief washing over her at the sight of Jake holding Ava.

But her relief was short-lived when her vision suddenly began to blur. “What the-“ Y/N whispered as her knees began to buckle. Sam noticed her sudden stumble backwards, his eyes going wide at the sight of her legs starting to buckle. “Y/N!” He called out, rushing over to her.

He caught her before she completely lost her balance, wrapping an arm around her waist tightly while his other hand came up to her face, gently shaking her face. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s over. I’ve got you” Y/N let out a small groan in response as she blinked her eyes open. But the pain in her head wasn’t going away, it was pounding so hard against her skull she felt like passing out.

“God, my head…” she mumbled softly while weakly grasping Sam’s hand against her face.

The Impala, Harley and Bobby’s truck pulled up the town of Cold Oak. All hunters got out of their respective vehicles and headed to the trunk of Baby. “Looks like the rest of the way is on foot.” Bobby stated as Dean opened the trunk and everyone took out their needed weapons. “Let’s go” Dean said, determined as he cocked his gun.

Sam was helping a very delirious Y/N out of the house as Jake followed behind them. “I’m fine, Sam. You can let go now” She assured Sam who was still holding her up. “Yeah, no chance in hell. You look like shit, dude” Sam grunted as he continued to hold her. He knew she was a stubborn woman so she was going to say that she’s fine when in reality, she’s actually not.

So he ignored her and continued to hold her up, he knew she needed it. Y/N didn’t even bother trying to argue with Sam, she knew he wouldn’t let up. She felt like if he wasn’t currently supporting her weight, she would probably be on the ground. Her headache from hell wasn’t going away, she now had a sore ass headache, and was on the verge of collapsing from fatigue.

“I think we can make it out of here now” Sam told Jake. “But the Acheri demon-“ Jake started. “No, no, no. Ava was summoning it, controlling it. It shouldn’t come back now that she’s dead, we gotta go” Y/N told him as they walked down the porch, “Not we, Y/N” Jake suddenly said in a dark tone. Sam and Y/N stopped in their tracks, turning to face Jake.

“Only one of us is getting out of here. I’m sorry” Jake shook his head. Y/N and Sam stared at him in surprise, neither of them were expecting him to say that. “Excuse me?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?” Sam gaped. “I-I had a vision. That Yellow-Eyes demon or whatever it was. He talked to me. He told me how it was”

“No, no, no, no, no, Jake. You can’t listen to him” Sam pleaded with him, “Sam, Y/N, he’s not letting us go! Only one. Now, if we don’t play along here, he’ll kill us all.” Jake pointed out. Y/N peeled herself from Sam and forcefully stood on both her feet. “Now, I like you guys, I do. And y/n, you’re very easy on the eyes. But do the math here. What good’s it gonna do for all of us to die?”

Sam and Y/N shared an unease look, the female psychic swaying on her feet. “Now, I can get out of her. I get close to the demon. I can kill the bastard” Jake offered an ultimatum. “You come with us, we can kill him together” Y/N countered his offer, “How do I know you guys won’t turn on me?” Jake narrowed his eyes on them. “We won’t!” Sam insisted.

“I don’t know that” Jake shook his head, unsure. Sam and Y/N became uneasy. “Okay, look” Y/N held her hands up, taking out her butterfly knife from her jacket. Sam shot her a nervous look as she flicked up open, raised it to the air and placed it on the ground. Showing Jake that they meant no harm.

Jake watched how Y/N dropped her weapon, eyeing it on the ground for a moment before slowly glancing back up at her and Sam. Y/N locked eyes with him, trying to communicate that they wouldn’t do anything to him. “Just come with us, Jake. Don’t do this. Don’t play into what it wants.” Sam pleaded softly, still watching him closely.

Jake nodded before slowly bending down to place his wrench. Sam and Y/N let out sighs of relief before cheapshotting them both, uppercutting Sam and Y/N simultaneously. The hunters grunted harshly as they flew a few feet up into the air and into a wooden fence.

The breath was knocked out of Y/N as she slammed into the fence, she laid there for several moments as she gasped for air. Her chest was burning as she inhaled sharp breaths, her ears ringing. She slowly sat up, blinking slowly as another wave of dizziness came over her, she gripped the wooden fence for support and tried to see where Sam was.

She finally spotted him, he laid a few feet away. He was moving around, letting her know that he was still awake. She slowly started making her way over to him, her vision was a little hazy but she was able to crawl over to him and put a shaking hand on him.

Jake stalked towards them, his feet heavy. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he walked towards them, she quickly pulled Sam closer to her trying to shield him from injury. Her head was still spinning from the hit, causing her to struggle to stay alert as her vision blurred around the edges.

Jake tried to kick Sam but Y/N swiftly waved her hand outwards, sending Jake barreling into a rusted old car. Y/N winced slightly as her eyes reverted back to its original color and her veins diminished it’s glowing blue. A pain shot through her temples from the use of her powers, but it was worth it to give Sam time to recover. Sam was finally coming to and sat up, blinking repeatedly trying to focus his vision.

Y/N grasped Sam’s shoulder gently, getting his attention. “You okay? Can you get up?” She asked quietly, keeping an eye on Jake who was slowly starting to recover. Jake almost instantly recovered, charging towards Sam and Y/N.

Sam got to his feet quickly and helped Y/N to hers, pulling her behind him. They prepared themselves for Jake's incoming attack, both of them still a little disoriented from being thrown against the fence. The two got into fighting stances, it was two against one. Sam swung first but Jake quickly dodged.

Y/N let out an almost battle cry scream as she raised her foot to kick Jake across the face, her hands glowed blue as she put all her strength into it. The kick successfully landed against Jake’s face, his head snapping back from the force. Y/N exhaled in relief, watching how Jake staggered backwards a bit.

Sam lunged at Jake, tackling him to the ground. Sam and Jake were now rolling on the ground, throwing punches and trying to overpower each other. Y/N stumbled away from the two as they fought, looking for the weapons they discarded, her head pounding and her eyesight slowly swimming. She blinked, trying to clear her eyesight as she leaned against a wooden railing on a porch.

Her eyes scanned the area, finally landing on a wrench Jake discarded a few feet away. She pushed herself off the railing and stumbled over to the tool, her hand grabbed it tightly as she turned around with it in an offensive position. She looked back over at Sam and Jake’s fight, her vision still blurry.

She rushed over to the fighting men and raised the tool above her head. It came down, landing against Jake’s head with a loud ‘thud’ sound. He instantly slumped onto the ground with a groan, leaving Sam to breathe for a moment in relief.

The world was spinning for Y/N after that blow, her head pounding even harder as her vision continued to swim. She stumbled backwards slightly, her legs feeling like they were going to give out. Sam held her up, taking the wrench from her.

He raised it up to finish the job with Jake but he couldn’t. He took a few breaths before dropping the wrench to the ground with a thud. He held Y/N up as she leaned against him, her entire body shaking. Sam quickly looked her over, noticing how she was basically holding onto him for dear life.

“AHHH!!!” Y/N screamed as the migraine returned, her eyes flashing white, her head was splitting open as the vision that was nagging her for hours finally reached its peak, revealing itself to her. Sam jumped in surprise as she yelled, wrapping his arms around her as her body went tense.

“Y/N/N! Hey, are you okay?!” Sam panicked, watching in horror as the familiar sight of her eyes and hands turning white and blue. He knew she was having a vision, judging by the sheer amount of agony she was in. “SAM!!! Y/N!!!” Sam heard the voices of his brother and Jo calling out to them.

“Dean" Sam and Y/N sighed in relief, clutching their shoulders. Dean's heart dropped when he noticed Jake behind his brother. "SAM LOOK OUT!" Dean shouted warningly when he approached Sam and Y/N, wielding a knife.

Sam didn't have a chance to respond before he was stabbed in the back by Jake. Dean ran towards his brother in the field, "NOOOOOOO!!!" Dean screamed painfully.

Jake twisted the knife buried in his spinal cord before Sam fell to his knees, his face contorted with agony.

This was the last thing Y/N saw when she came to, in the middle of the field, gripping her head from the migraine that struck. Her face was contorted with horror as eyes flickered up to Sam as her vision that she forced herself to believe was a dream was seconds away from happening. “Y/N/N, are you okay?” Sam asked, worry etched on his face, still clinging onto her.

“SAM LOOKOUT!!” Dean shouted warningly when Jake came up behind Sam, wielding the knife. “NOOO!” Left her lips. It was as if everything was in slow motion as Y/N acted out of instinct, her hand shining that familiar aqua blue light as she waved her hand, sending her best friend tumbling out of the way with a force, only to be stabbed by Jake instead, sacrificing her life for his.

The knife slid deep into Y/N's spinal cord as Sam fell to the ground, witnessing her demise firsthand, clutching his dislodged shoulder from the blast of power Y/N sent hurling towards him, and Dean's eyes widened in terror.

"NOOOOO!" Dean screamed in despair, his heart shattered as he watched her get stabbed. An ear piercing scream left Jo’s lungs upon seeing Y/N get stabbed. Bobby, Jo and Dean hurriedly approached Y/N as Bobby and Jo ran after Jake, who had already twisted and retracted the knife from Y/N’s back, was long gone.

Y/N cried out in agony, followed by an ear piercing scream from the psychic, the ground beneath them shaking as Dean caught her in time before she fell to her knees, gripping her by her jacket.

"Y/N! Woah, woah, woah, y/n, y/n, hey" Dean exclaims in a panic as he hurriedly lowered her to the ground, onto her knees as Sam rushed over, forgetting his wounded shoulder.

“Hey, come here, come here, let me look at you” Sam sobbed, his hands immediately going to her back, trying desperately to press his hand against the gushing wound as Y/N’s head wobbled into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean's heart broke when he saw the tremendous amount of blood on his brother's hand, holding up y/n to face him. “Hey, hey, hey. Look princess, it’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad alright?” Dean tried to convince himself, his voice cracking with emotion as he and Sam held her up.

"It’s bad, it’s... it’s bad" Sam choked out, struggling to keep his composure as he held his hand firmly against her bleeding wound, putting as much pressure as he could against the injury.

Dean's heart sank as he held her close, desperately trying to convince himself that it was not that bad, but the sight of so much blood on his brother's hand told a different story. "Just... just look at me, ok? Y/N just look at me."

“Y/N?? Y/N! HEY!” Dean shouted, shaking her, “Hey, you gotta listen to me for once, okay sweetheart? We’re gonna patch you up, okay? You’re gon’ be as good as new? Huh?” But y/n’s head wobbled again, blood leaking from her mouth as a pained smile took her face.

Sam's face contorted with pain as he helped his brother to hold up Y/N's limp body in his arms, the blood from her wound staining his hands and clothes. "It’s alright, you're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay" Sam repeated over and over again like a mantra, trying to convince himself as much as his brother but Y/N was limp. "She's fading, she's... she's fading!" Sam cried out helplessly. "We gotta... we gotta do something!"

Dean's heart pounded in his chest and he felt a sense of desperation wash over him. He shook her again, trying to get her to stay awake and listen to him. "No, no, no, no, no. Y/N/N, come on, open your eyes! You have to stay with me, alright??"

“I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take care of both of you. I’ve got you. It’s my job right? Watch out for my pain in the ass little brother and his even bigger pain in the ass, sarcastic, ray of sunshine best friend” Dean forcefully chuckled as he pushed her hair aside.

Sam chuckled through his tears, his hands trembling as he tried to do all he could to stop the bleeding, but it seemed like it was futile. "Who’s gonna mouth off Dean when he’s being a dick, huh?” Sam croaked, attempting to help Dean hold her up.

Dean tried to put on a brave face, but his own eyes were filled with tears. He kept his hands on her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks as he tried to keep her awake. "Just... just stay with me, alright?" He pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Come on, stay awake" Dean pleaded as he held her in his arms, his heart breaking as he saw how pale and lifeless she looked. "You have to fight. Please. I can't lose you. I can't lose you too."

But Y/N didn’t respond. Her eyes were closing and her breathing was becoming labored. "Y/N/N, baby please don’t do this to me," Dean begged, his voice cracking with emotion. "You can’t leave me. You can’t do this to me."

Suddenly, a strangled gasp escaped her lips, sending a pang of hope through Dean. "That's it, that's it" he urged her, his voice shaking with emotion. "Just keep breathing, princess. Just keep breathing."

“A-and you two…call m-me…the d-drama queen” Y/N breathed out, a weak chuckle leaving her through, coughing up blood. Dean and Sam let out a small laugh, but there was no joy in it. They both just wanted her to hold on, to fight.

Dean felt a slight pang of relief as Y/N spoke, her voice weak and struggling, but there was a hint of her usual sass that gave him a glimmer of hope. "That's right, there she is, there's my girl," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Sam's face was etched with worry as he tried to keep pressure on the wound. "Just hold on Y/N, please," Sam begged, tears streaming down his face. Y/N's voice was strained as she struggled to speak, her words laced with pain and sadness. "Listen... listen to me. I need to... I need to say something."

“No, no, no, no. You don’t need to say anything because you’re gonna be alright. Okay?!” Dean sobbed, gripping her tightly as she shook her head again. A weak tearful smile on her face,

"Dean... please, just... just let me say this" she whispered, her voice weakening with each word. Sam's tears fell silently as he continued to try to stop the bleeding, but it was clear that time was running out. He could see the determination in her eyes.

Dean looked at her, his expression a mixture of fear and desperation. He knew that she was running out of time, but the thought of hearing her final words was unbearable.

"No, no, no, no, no. You're not... you're not dying. You can't do this to me. You can't leave me." Y/N's hand lifted to touch his face, her touch weak and trembling before forcefully lifting her other hand to rest against Sam’s face.

Y/N took a shaky breath as she looked at them both, knowing that this might be the last time they ever saw her alive. "I... I just want to say... that I'm grateful. For everything" she began, her voice shaky and soft. “You two have been m-my rocks our whole lives, the only reasons I kept going. So t-thank you. I’ll always l-love you fellas.”

Dean and Sam's tears fell freely now, their hearts breaking as they listened to her words. The words cut through Dean's heart like a knife, the realization that this might be farewell sinking in. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. He couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.

"Y/N, please don't do this. You’re going to make it. We need you. I need you," he choked out, pleading with her to stay. Sam sniffled, tears streaming silently down his face as he held her hand on his cheek. "We love you too, Y/N. We love you too. You’re gonna be fine."

But Y/N smiled through her pain, shaking her head as tears stung at her eyes. "No…I’m not. A-and that’s o-…kay. You guys... you two are the only family I ever had. You’ll always b-be...my…fellas" Her voice grew weaker with every word as she slowly faded.

Her eyes flickered over to Dean, a pained expression on her face, “And D-dean…” She sniffled, feeling her body beginning to succumb to her injury. “I lo-….” But she didn’t get to finish her sentence, finally succumbing to her injury, her head plopping for one last time on Dean’s shoulder as she took her last breath.

The brothers sat there in shocked silence for a moment, tears streaming down their faces as they held her motionless body.

Sam sat there in disbelief, staring blankly at her lifeless body. He thought they were both gonna get out of this alive, live to tell the tale. He couldn't believe that she was gone. He couldn't believe that she had just died in their arms. Sam's grip on her hand tightens, his tears falling uncontrollably as he looks at her face, frozen in a peaceful expression.

Dean's mind raced with denial and fear. He couldn't accept that she was really gone. He looked at her face, searching for a hint of life, hoping against hope that she would open her eyes and smile at him. Dean's heart was shattered, the weight of her death hitting him like a ton of bricks. "No... no, no, no, no, no, no" he repeated, his voice growing increasingly desperate.

The pain in his voice was palpable, his heart breaking as he held her lifeless body in his arms. He could barely form any coherent thoughts, his mind a jumble of despair and disbelief. All he could do was hold her tighter, as if trying to somehow keep her with him.

Sam just shook his head in disbelief, his mind trying to process what had just happened. "This can't be happening. She can't be gone" he whispered, his voice betraying his emotions. “Y/N….Y/N/N!!!” Dean yelled hoarsely as she shook her again but she was gone. Dean held her to him, his hand resting to the back of her head as Sam leaned his head on his sister’s shoulder for the last time.

“Oh, God…Oh God” Sam’s voice cracked as they held her. The brothers were both speechless as they held her close, their tears falling silently onto her lifeless body. They knew that there was nothing they could do to bring her back, and the realization hit them like a ton of bricks.

Dean was inconsolable. He held her close, his heart broken and his mind in a state of denial. He couldn't believe that she was gone, that she had given her life for his brother's. Sam was just as devastated. He had grown up with her like his own sister, and now she was gone. The woman he was proud to call his best friend, his sister. Gone, because she loved him more than she loved herself. He couldn't think straight, his thoughts consumed by grief and guilt.

Dean found himself struggling to breath, holding the woman he loved motionless in his hands, having sacrificed her life. “Y/N!!!” Dean bellowed into the empty dark night.

They held her tightly, not wanting to let go. The weight of her death felt like a lead weight in their hearts, and they knew that their lives would never be the same again. As Dean let out another heart-wrenching yell, Sam's body shuddered with his own silent sobs. They stayed like that for a long time, holding her close, begging her to come back.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Heyyyy, heyyyyy, how y’all doing???🌚🌚🌚 NOW BEFORE YOU YELL AT ME I- I actually have no way to defend myself😭LET ONE RIP ON ME, YELL AT ME AND CUSS ME OUT BECAUSE THIS HURT MY SOUL MAN (pun intended💀) OKAY OKAY I'M GOING!! Hope y’all enjoyed it! Tell me what you hate and what you lovee. Don’t be shy to ask questions❤️

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

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@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

Xoxo

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55sturn · 1 year ago

Text

✮ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE

series masterlist!

pairing: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

synopsis: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.

important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3

THIRD PERSON POV

chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.

the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.

“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.

“i don’t know chris.”

“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.

“how is this all my fault?”

“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”

“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.

“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.

he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.

“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brothers, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.

her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.

as she knelt in front of the toilet, she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.

ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?

“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.

chris on the other hand, was stoic as he stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.

he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.

his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.

he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.

as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.

y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.

could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.

she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?

y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.

sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.

as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.

“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.

“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”

“well when you put it that way-“

“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.

chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.

“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.

“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.

“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”

“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.

“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”

“what about your career?”

“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.

taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @carolsturns1 @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @cutenote @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @33sturniolo @heartz4chris @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi

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kiarastromboli · 1 year ago

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: Masturbation, smoker!reader.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Matt's life is going to be completely upheaved by an encounter he will have one day at work, leading him to discover a new feeling: obsession.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I'm glad to come back with this new series that I had in mind for a while. I hope you'll enjoy it. The first chapter is from Matt's point of view, but it's possible that in the days to come, the point of view will shift to that of the reader. Anyway, I'll inform you beforehand. Feel free to ask me in the comments if you want to be part of the taglist. Enjoy reading!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝟑

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏:

My life has always been a damn bottomless pit without interest. I grew up in a normal family, in a normal town surrounded by normal people; there was nothing special about me.

I've always had this feeling of discomfort, like something was missing from my life.

In high school, I tried to fill that void with sports like any other teenager, but nothing worked.

I was fortunate to be a triplet, so I started life with people to love and who loved me in return.

Naturally, people think that having siblings erases the loneliness of life, but it's false. I had my brothers, but I still felt that emptiness and loneliness.

As I grew older, I realized that I would never fill this void, that I was destined to have an uninteresting life and become Mr. Average.

I moved to New York, where I found a job in a bookstore, which seemed more than logical given my passion for books.

I lived five minutes away from my brother Chris, and Nick, my other brother, continued his studies in Boston.

My weeks repeated and resembled each other.

I worked on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. On Wednesday, I spent the day with Chris; most of the time, we just went out to eat and stroll. As for Sunday, I dedicated it to my motorcycle rides and various hobbies.

By various hobbies, I mean fleeting activities that I forced myself to practice to keep me from losing my mind from living the same days on repeat.

But all of that was before her.

When I saw her for the first time, I felt like I was waking up after an endless sleep.

It was a Thursday evening, we were about to close, I just had to put away the last books we had received, and I could finally close the shop and go home.

That was until I heard the sound of the little bells at the entrance jingling as the door opened.

I sighed when I heard the door open, thinking, 'Another bookworm waiting until the last moment to come get their fill of books.'

I went back to the counter to wait for the person who was there to bring me their book so I could quickly scan it and finally go home.

I honestly expected a student with glasses or some nonsense like that, so I was surprised to see this brown-haired girl a few meters away from me, browsing the shelves to find what she wanted.

I'm not the type to linger on pretty girls, but she had something extra.

She was wearing this navy blue sweater three sizes too big for her, which forced her to roll up her sleeves, and you could see the collar of her white shirt peeking out underneath.

With that, she wore a small brown pleated skirt that matched the bow she had in her hair.

An outfit that said a lot and so little at the same time.

I'm the type to analyze people on a daily basis; it's my thing when you work in a bookstore like this one in New York, you get bored very quickly.

I had a little game with myself where I enjoyed deciphering the people who entered this shop, first by their way of dressing, then by their mannerisms, and finally, I drew a conclusion based on the book they bought.

However, I was stuck on her way of dressing; I couldn't really figure it out. Her outfit was simple and casual, sure, but there was this complexity with her accessories that made me wonder if she did it on purpose or if she just randomly picked out clothes.

I mean, who pairs such a large sweater with such a small skirt? Maybe it's her boyfriend's sweater?

When I thought that, I felt anger rising within me, but why? I don't even know her; what does it matter to me whether she has a boyfriend or not?

I shook my head to try to think of something else and continued to observe her.

She had been wandering around the store for five minutes, stopping at each aisle without ever grabbing a book. Does she even read, or did she just come here thinking she'd find a fun book to read for once?

Even her behavior was indecipherable; the more I looked at her, the more intrigued I became.

She finally stopped at the romance section, where she picked up a book before walking towards me with a big smile.

Strangely, I felt a certain stress when her eyes landed on me; I hadn't realized how harmonious her face was.

"Good evening," she said warmly, placing the book in front of me.

"Good evening," I replied nervously.

"I hope I'm not bothering you by coming at this hour. I'm new in town, and I thought you closed later," she said politely.

"No worries; I didn't have anything planned after anyway," I replied without looking at her; I was far too intimidated for that.

I scanned her book, and of course, that's when the cash register decided not to work properly, leaving us face to face in an awkward silence while I tried to open the register.

She seemed amused, judging by the little chuckle she let out, and when I looked up at her, she simply said, "Sorry," timidly, unable to suppress the little smile on her lips.

I finally managed to unlock the cash register, then gave her the change and reached for a small bag to put her purchase in.

That's when I saw the book she had chosen.

"Pride and Prejudice, good choice," I said without thinking too much.

"I know, I've read it already," she said, chuckling, and I looked up at her to watch her.

"It's a gift," she added.

"For your boyfriend?" I said again without thinking, and this time I quickly added, "Sorry, that was very intrusive of me."

She looked at me with a smile before saying, "For a friend, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Good to know," I replied, handing her the book.

She took the bag with her book inside and turned to start walking towards the exit, and I was dying to catch up with her to continue talking, but I stood there frozen like an idiot.

She walked through the door, and I sighed.

My heart started beating normally again, and I felt a sense of longing in her absence.

My life, which until now had been flat and uninteresting, was unknowingly taking a whole new turn.

I finished tidying up the bookstore, trying to distract myself, but she continued to haunt my thoughts.

I kept asking myself hundreds and thousands of questions.

Will I see her again? What did she think of me? What's her name? What does she do for a living?

Fuck, what had she done to me? I thought as I pushed the door of the store to leave and locked it behind me.

Unintentionally, the key to my apartment detached from the keychain around my waist, and I hadn't noticed until a familiar voice informed me.

"Hey, you dropped this!" the girl from the bookstore said, catching my attention and tapping my shoulder.

I turned around and felt my heart race again when I found myself face to face with her; if she keeps this up, she'll give me a heart attack.

"Thanks," I said, taking my keys from her hand.

Unintentionally, my eyes roamed over her body, analyzing her.

I noticed the butt of a cigarette she held in her other hand, probably the reason she was still around.

"No problem," she said, smiling.

"Can I ask your name, if it's not too forward?" I asked, curious.

"Y/n," she said, extending her hand after finishing her cigarette and tossing it to the ground to crush it with her foot.

"I'm—" I started to say before she cut me off.

"Matt, yeah, I know," she said quickly, and I looked at her confused.

She knows my name?

"Oh, um, it was on your apron earlier, I promise I'm not a weirdo," she said, chuckling, and I chuckled too.

She seems observant too, interesting.

"You don't really seem like a weirdo, if that reassures you," I said, smiling.

"And you don't seem like a guy who reads romance novels; I guess we can all be surprising, maybe you should watch out," she said, shrugging with a smirk.

"Pride and Prejudice is a classic; I work in a bookstore, I have to know my classics," I replied.

"Fair enough," she said, smiling.

A moment of silence ensued, leaving us there in the middle of the street, staring into each other's eyes.

"Are you just passing through here?" I asked, to break the unbearable silence.

"Hm?" she simply hummed, confused.

"You said you were new here earlier," I clarified.

"Oh, um, no, let's just say I'm in the process of settling in," she said, nodding.

"Great, I hope to see you around here then," I said, smiling.

"There's a chance that could happen; this bookstore seems nice, and who knows, maybe I'll need a friend who knows their stuff to advise me," she said, smiling back.

"You already consider me your friend? Wasn't it you who said I should watch out?" I teased her.

"Oh, because you thought I was talking about you? No way, I was talking about my friend who works at the same bookstore as you!" she said, trying to justify herself.

"Oh, really? I probably know that friend then," I said with a smirk.

"Okay, you got me; I'm a big liar," she said, raising her hands, and I laughed.

"I already suspected that," I said, chuckling.

We stayed silent once again, staring into each other's eyes before she spoke again.

"Well, I have to go if I want to have a chance to catch a taxi before it's too late," she said, playing with the ends of her hair.

"I can drop you off if you live nearby," I offered.

"Whether by car or taxi, the journey is still long in the streets of New York, and I don't want to bother you with an extra 20-minute ride," she said timidly.

"I guess it's a good thing I have a motorcycle then," I said, pointing to my bike parked a few steps away.

"I don't know... um," she said, shaking her head hesitantly.

"If you don't trust me and prefer to go by taxi, I totally understand, I won't hold it against you," I said reassuringly.

"You know what? Fuck this; a little danger never hurt anyone, and anyways, if you try to kidnap me, know that I did boxing in middle school, so I won't go down without a fight," she said, pointing her finger at me, and I laughed.

"Alright, Mike Tyson, let me just grab my spare helmet from the bookstore," I said, chuckling before doing just that.

When I returned, I handed her the helmet, which she put on.

She got on behind me after indicating where she lived, and we hit the road directly.

We weaved through traffic, and I could feel her little arms tighten around my waist with each acceleration.

I couldn't help but slightly harden beneath my jeans because of the proximity between us; I could feel her chest pressing against my back.

This girl had something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I looked at her.

She smelled like vanilla and cigarettes.

She was destabilizing, and I felt like I was losing my balance with every word she uttered.

Once we arrived at her destination, I stopped my motorcycle in front of her apartment complex.

It was large and luxurious.

I wondered if she was a daddy's girl to live here, or if she simply had a good job. In either case, this girl clearly wasn't short on money.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, smiling, after taking off her helmet to hand it back to me.

"It was my pleasure," I said, removing my helmet and staying on the bike while she got off.

"That was really nice; I'm glad I made a new friend," she said, quickly fixing her hair.

"So, we're friends?" I said, smiling.

"Of course," she replied, smiling back.

"Great," I said timidly, and a new silence fell.

"Um, I'm going to head in; it's getting late. Good night, Matt," she said this time in a much softer voice.

Why the sudden change in tone?

"Good night, Y/n," I replied, and she turned to walk towards her apartment complex.

I couldn't help but watch her as she went inside. I should have immediately started my bike and left, but I was stuck in place.

She paused in front of her stairs for a moment before suddenly turning around and running back towards me.

I watched her return, a little confused, and when she reached me, she simply said, "Hi."

"Hi," I replied, a bit confused but smiling.

"Is it weird if I suggest we see each other again? It's a friendly offer, of course; you just seem really interesting, and I felt silly leaving like that without suggesting we meet again," she said quickly, and I chuckled at her tone.

"Of course. I finish early on Saturdays; just drop by the bookstore, and we'll go for another motorcycle ride if you want," I said, smiling.

"Sounds great!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Well, goodbye for real this time," she said, chuckling.

"Bye," I replied, watching her leave before putting my helmet back on and heading home on my motorcycle.

On the journey back, I had only one thing on my mind: her.

Arriving home, I was surprised to find that my erection hadn't subsided.

How could this girl make me so hard without even touching me?

I felt bad for getting hard like this over a girl who seemed as innocent as her. What was wrong with me that I'd do something like this?

I sighed and slumped onto my couch.

I took off my pants and slid my hand under my boxers to touch the bulge there.

I started to stroke myself, unable to stop myself from thinking about her at that moment.

Her sparkling eyes, her long brown hair, her full lips that I was dying to kiss...

Why was she affecting me like this?

Her curves vaguely hidden by her oversized sweater, her legs, and especially her thighs that looked nice and soft.

"Oh my god," I muttered in a low voice, speeding up my movements and throwing my head back.

Her laughter and her voice, yes, her soft and slightly husky voice, almost like she was sick.

I edged dangerously close to the edge, and that's when I remembered her change in tone when she said, "Um, I'm going to head in; it's getting late. Good night, Matt," almost as if she was inviting me to follow her home and do all the things I was dying to do to her.

Maybe she was just as eager as I was. For my hands on her body, my lips on hers, and my name coming out of her mouth.

I thought about what she would look like sitting on me without her clothes, screaming my name, and it pushed me over the edge.

"Y/n," I moaned before climaxing.

I can't deny it any longer, this girl is clearly becoming my obsession.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

Taglist: @mayhem-72 @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @bernardenjoyer @whicked-hazlatwhore @nicksmainbitch

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut #beyond reason

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rigberts · 9 months ago

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If Demon Slayer had an early 2000s 4kidz dub...

All beheadings are edited out and the explanation is now that their magic swords teleport demons to jail

Tanjirou and Nezuko have an appalachian southern accent, and are implied to be orphans, but their family is completely edited out to meet censorship guidelines

Zenitsu was received poorly by test audiences, so now he is a character with no dialogue except courage the cowardly dog-style whimpers

However, when he does fight, he gives lengthy monologues to enemies in John Green’s voice, the running joke is that no one actually sees him fight

The shinazugawa brothers have heavy boston accents

Mitsuri is inexplicably a southern belle

Inosuke is voiced by chris sabat

Rengoku is now “the american one” even though it is implied the show already takes place in america, and he speaks extremely loudly about how much he loves hamburgers and fried chicken, even though it is still very obvious he’s eating a beef bento

Obanai constantly makes snake puns

Shinobus dialogue becomes weirdly flirtatious, but only in a way kids wouldn’t be able to understand

Kanao is now introduced as the most beautiful girl at demon slayer training academy, and described as extremely popular. Tanjirou is written as having a crush on her despite her being out of his league

Tengen now has a lisp and is heavily coded as gay, while his wives are now his hair stylist, makeup artist, and costume designer. Black shirts have been edited onto them under their dresses to cover their cleavage

The red light district is now the performing arts district, daki is now a britney spears-esque diva

Giyuu is the same, only with 50% more jokes about him having no friends.

Muichiro is now inexplicably a girl and referred to by female pronouns

Several throwaway lines imply that the series takes place in the early 2000s, not the taisho era

Everyone has an English name, Tanjirou is Thomas, Nezuko is Nina, Zenitsu is Greg, etc.

The opening is replaced by an English rap song explaining the characters' backstories and primary personality traits

The series is called "Demon Sword" in reference to the original japanese title "The Demon-Slaying Sword". However, by removing the reference to killing in the title, several audiences were confused, thinking the story was about a sword that was also a demon.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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mlmshipbracket · 1 year ago

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Fourth MLM Ship Bracket Propaganda Submissions

Below you will find all of the submitted and approved ships for the Fourth MLM Ship Bracket Tournament along with the form to submit further propaganda at the bottom

This is another opportunity to submit propaganda for your favorite ships. Wether you were unable to submit propaganda for them in the initial form or you spot your favorite ship who has no propaganda submitted. Ships with a strikethrough have propaganda submitted, I will continue to update this post as propaganda is submitted. I will accept further propaganda for ships with already submitted propaganda but please prioritize those with out.

The goal is to have propaganda for all ships but I understand that may not be possible. Therefore I will be leaving the form open for a few weeks to see if we receive propaganda for at least half the ships.

Note: Please reach out to me if you spot any mistakes in character or fandom names, even if it is only formatting or spelling issues.

Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)

Kyojuro Rengoku/Akaza (Demon Slayer)

Mikhail”Misha” [Heavy]/Dr. Ludwig [Medic] (Team Fortress 2)

Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas (Homestuck)

Chu Shuzhi/Guo Changcheng (Guardian, 2018)

Oliver Marks/James Farrow (If We Were Villains)

David Starsky/Kenneth "Hutch" Hutchinson (Starsky & Hutch)

Tinn/Gun (My School President)

Loki Odinson/Mobius M. Mobius (Loki)

Jaime Reyes/Bart Allen (DC Comics)

Levi Schmitt/Nico Kim (Grey's Anatomy)

Ren Amamiya or Akira Kurusu/Goro Akechi (Persona 5)

Wallace Price/ Hugo Freeman (Under the Whispering Door)

Daffy Duck/Bugs Bunny (Looney Toons)

Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan (Guardian, 2018)

Isak Valtersen/Even Bech Næsheim (SKAM)

Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton (Montague Siblings)

Nico di Angelo/Will Solace (Camp Half-Blood Chronicles)

Argos/Mr. Plant (The World of Mr. Plant)

Richard St Vier/Alec Campion (Swordspoint Universe)

Klaus Hargreeves/Dave Katz (The Umbrella Academy)

Woody/Buzz Lightyear (Toy Story)

Victor Lawson/Hap (In the Lives of Puppets

Charlie/Babe (Pit Babe The Series)

Fred/Shaggy (Scooby-Doo)

Simon Snow/Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Grimm-Pitch (Carry On)

Gaius Octavius/Jedediah Smith (Night at the Museum)

Sound/Win (My School President)

Pat/Pran (Bad Buddy)

Mike Wazowski/James "Sulley" P. Sullivan (Monsters, Inc.)

Nicholas “Nick” Bell/ Seth Gray (The Extraordinaries)

Evan 'Buck' Buckley/Edmundo 'Eddie' Diaz (9-1-1)

Sean/White (Not Me: The Series)

Vegas Theerapanyakun/Pete Saengtham (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Runaan/Ethari (The Dragon Prince)

Larry Daley/Ahkmenrah (Night at the Museum)

Tintin/Captain Archibald Haddock (Tintin comics)

Bai Lang/Jin Xun An (My Tooth Your Love)

Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin (The Man from U.N.C.L.E)

Wario/Waluigi (Mario franchise)

Peter Parker/Miguel O'Hará (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse)

Steve Rogers/Anthony "Tony" Stark (Marvel Comics)

Dave Miller/Jack "Old sport" Kennedy (Dayshift at Freddy's)

Boston/Nick (Only Friends)

Kinn Theerapanyakun/Porsche Kittisawasd (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Satoru Gojo/Suguru Geto (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Craig Cuttlefish/Octavio Takowasa (Splatoon)

Tulio/Miguel (The Road to El Dorado)

Sun Wukong/Neptune Vasilias (RWBY)

Zachary Ezra Rawlins/Dorian (The Starless Sea)

Fox Mulder/Alex Krycek (The X-Files)

Thomas/Newt (The Maze Runner)

Fulgrim/Ferrus Manus (Warhammer 40k)

Kim Theerapanyakun/Porchay Kittisawasd (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane (The Mortal Instruments)

Tan/Bun (Manner of Death)

Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi (RWBY)

Rhy Maresh/Alucard Emery (Shades of Magic)

Yashiro Isana/Kuroh Yatogami (K Project)

Jaskier/Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Dustfinger/Mortimer "Mo" Folchart (Inkworld series)

Brandon/Sky (Winx Club)

Phineas Taylor “P. T.” Barnum/Phillip Carlyle (The Greatest Showman)

Alfred Hillinghead/Henry Ashe (Bodies TV Show)

Baal/Inanna (The Wicked + the Divine)

Timothy "Tim" Drake/Bernard Dowd (DC Comics)

Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Trigun Stampede)

Anthony Lockwood/Quill Kipps (Lockwood and Co)

Henry Winter/Francis Abernathy (The Secret History)

Crowley/Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Dainix/Falst (Aurora Comic)

Prince Rupert/Prince Amir (The Two Princes)

Finn/Poe Dameron (Star Wars)

Jean Luc Picard/Q (Star Trek: The Next Generation)

Will Stronghold/Warren Peace (Sky High)

Heart/Li Ming (Moonlight Chicken)

Wallace Wells/Todd Ingram (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off)

Sunai/Veyadi Lut (The Archive Undying)

Linus Baker/Arthur Parnassus (The House in the Cerulean Sea)

Aaron Slaughter/Jace Boucher (House of Slaughter)

Hercule Poirot/Captain Arthur Hastings (Hercule Poirot)

Phaya/Tharn (The Sign)

Hercules/Iolaus (Hercules: The Legendary Journeys)

Todd/Black (Not Me: The Series)

Julio "Rictor" Esteban Richter/Shatterstar (Marvel Comics)

Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu (Word of Honor)

Siffrin/Isabeau (In Stars and time)

Kendall Knight/Logan Mitchell (Big Time Rush TV Show)

Yuichiro Hiyakuya/Mikaela Hyakuya (Owari no Seraph/Seraph of the End)

Palm/Nuengdiao (Never Let Me Go)

Khatha/Dome (Midnight Museum)

Asterix/Obelix (Asterix Comics)

Bowser/Luigi (Mario Franchise)

Lucien "Luc" O'Donnell/Oliver Blackwood (London Calling)

Kazuki Kurusu/Rei Suwa (Buddy Daddies)

Benjamin “Ben” Tennyson/Kevin Ethan Levin (Ben 10: Alien Force)

Lumière/Cogsworth (Beauty and the Beast)

Damian Wayne/Jon Kent (DC Comics)

Spy/Dell Conagher [Engineer] (Team Fortress 2)

Shanks/Buggy (One Piece)

Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Ecks (Six of Crows)

Harold Finch/John Reese (Person of Interest)

Ulrich Stern/Odd Della Robbia (Code Lyoko)

Vincent Freeman/Jerome Morrow (Gattaca)

Eustass Kid/Killer (One Piece)

Christopher Hitchcock/Jalil Sherman (Everworld)

Frodo Baggins/Samwise Gamgee (Lord of the Rings)

Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves)

#tumblr poll #tumblr bracket #mlm ship #mlm ship poll #mlm ship bracket #mlm ship bracket tournament #mlm ship bracket 2024 #mlm ship bracket tournament 2024 #fourth mlm ship tournament #propaganda #ship propaganda

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vintageslideshow · 1 year ago

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1972: Here's what was in my family's familyroom.

Bookshelf with two rows of great authors of history, and two rows of the World Book Encyclopedia (the encyclopedias are facing you, and the row behind the candle on the side shelf are the How & Why Library and the yearly addendums).

Several vases and candy dishes.

A horse drawing a sleigh.

Boston pencil sharpener with a suction cup base.

A pretty neat red candle (on the shelf) that looks great when lit.

Shell No-Pest Strip (banned nowadays).

Painting by my father of Zulu dancers.

Packard-Bell hi-fi.

Of all of these things from 50 years ago, only the painting remains in their possession. A few years ago they got rid of the great authors series (Half Price Books has it for an obscene sum) and I have my own copy of the World Book Encyclopedias. When I visit my folks this weekend I'll see if they still have the candle and the pencil sharpener.

#126 negative #photograph #1972

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andydrysdalerogers · 1 year ago

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The Type You Save ~ S E V E N T E E N

James "Bucky" Barnes and OFC Alexandra "Alex" Richards

Detective James Barnes hasn't seen the love of his life in three years. Since the night she was almost caught stealing a painting. He knows it was her and she disappeared leaving him confused and heart broken.

Alexandra Richards never expected to be pulled back into her old life two years after she left it. She had found love and a home and was happy. Until a note blackmailed her to take one last job. Three years later she walked into the last person she expected to see in San Francisco. Because he lived in New York right?

They always put family before everything. And he would do anything to get his family back. Because she's the type you save.

TW: mob, death, smut, rape intentions, angst, guns, family abandonment, dub-con, manipulation

A/N: because of the Valentine one shot I'm posting tomorrow, I'm posting the final chapter of The Type You Save today. It has been fun writing a different hero this time.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: S I X T E E N

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Alex stood on the grass in San Francisco, her black dress swaying in the cold wind, a storm coming in. She sighed as she watched the casket being lowered into the ground. She tightens her grip on James’s hand as he held Drew on his other side.

“I’m glad I was able to do this for him.”

“Me too doll. You ok?”

“Its just hard. I thought…”

“I know Allie. But its closure.”

She could barely listen to the prayer, her mind whirling from everything that had happened. After everything had settle, Zemo sang like a bird. He explained how he got involved with Grey, the threat Grey had on his family. Grey made it seem like all he wanted was to take Alex, not explaining that he was going to kidnap Drew a week or so after his plan to break her.

The police found Grey’s will and a letter for Alex. Alex took a moment a couple of days after her rescue to read it.

Alexandra, If you are reading this, it means that I have die, probably at your hand. That’s hard to write, considering the amount of love I have for you. If you haven’t discovered yet, let me explain some truths. When I first saw you, you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I wanted you from that moment on. But your brother refused. I tried to persuade Simon, reason with him. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. We buried him close to the house in Boston. I hope that brings you a little peace. As for your parents, they threaten to harm you as they blamed you for your brother’s disappearance. I had them change their will to leave me as their benefactor before they were killed. I wanted to keep your inheritance safe. I left everything to you, my pet, my queen. My hope is that this letter is unnecessary, but I wanted to be sure you were taken care of, should anything happen. I love you so much Alexandra. Yours, Christian.

Alex sobbed at the letter with James holding her as she wept. Her entire adult life before James was built on a web of lies. When she got confirmation of his location, she had her brother reburied. The toll of the bell snapped Alex back to the present.

The father completed his blessing over the casket. “We celebrate your life Simon Richards, a lost soul that has been found and now taken to the Lord. Amen.”

They all murmured a reply and then came to give Alex their condolences. After everyone left, Alex turned to James. “I want to see him, Jamie.”

James sighed, “Allie, I…”

“I need to see him. He did this for me. It’s the least I can do.”

James adjusted a sleeping Drew on his arm. “Ok, ok. Let me make a few calls.”

A couple of hours later, Allie sat beside a hospital bed. Its occupant was asleep. She took his hand and his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey Allie Cat.”

Nate’s face was still pale and his movements slow but there he was three weeks after being shot.

She reached over to press a kiss to his forehead. “Hey Nate. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“Getting shot will do that.” She gave him a soft smile. “What have the doctors said?”

“Recovery is going well. Docs say I just have to be patient to get stronger.”

“That’s good.” She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. “We had the funeral today.”

Nate could see the pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I’m just glad I was able to give you that. I’m sorry I hadn’t told you sooner.”

“Its ok. I probably wouldn’t have believed you then.” She looked away to blink her tears away. “How is your case looking?”

He chuckled. “Since I help saved two cops and a witness, its looking like I’ll be able to plea to a lesser charge. Maybe a year.”

“That’s good. Steve, James and I are ready to testify for you.”

“Thanks Alex. I should rest. I have physical therapy in a couple of hours.”

“Ok. I’ll be back again now that I can get to see you.” She hugged him gently and went to the door. “Open on bay 7.” There was a buzz and a click before the door slid open. She glanced back at Nate with a smile and went through the door.

James was sitting in the visitor’s lounge, checking his email when Alex walked in. “Hey Allie. How is he?”

“He’s good. Still kinda pale and slow but he says he feels stronger.” She popped a shoulder. “Ready?” She held out her hand.

He took and tugged her to him, her back to his front, hugging her, breathing her in. Something he doesn’t take for granted anymore. “Ready, doll. Steve called and said Drew asked if they could go to the park. I said ok. Wanted some time with my doll.” He placed a kiss on her neck.

“Jamie, we are in the hospital,” she moaned quietly as he continued with his gentle assault.

“I’ve missed you, Allie. My perfect little doll.”

She melted right there. “Ok, ok, get me outta here Detective.”

“Its Sargent and you know it.”

“You’ll always be my Detective.” She spun in his arms and looked into his stormy blues. “Take me to bed Jamie.”

“Oh Allie,” James moaned. He kissed her hard before releasing her, taking her hand and guiding her out of the hospital. The drive was laced with anticipation, the air heavy with lust from the couple. They hadn’t been intimate, since before, with Alex dealing with the emotions of her past coming to light and Drew being attached to his parents in fear of never seeing them again. James held onto Alex’s hand, his thumb moving over her knuckles, the sensation like bolts of lightening to her core.

“Lightening touches,” she whispered.

“What was that?”

“Lightening touches,” she said a little louder. “Before all of this, your touch always gave me the feeling like lightening through my skin.”

James smiled. “I remember. I believe it was the same night we conceived Drew.” His smile grew wider. “That was a great night.”

“It was.” Alex brought his knuckled to kiss. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant.”

“Don’t be doll. I understand. We’ve all been through a lot.” They made it back to their apartment. It was eerily still. Alex looked around as James pulled her to their bedroom. “Tell me what you need baby.” He sat on the edge of the bed as Alex settle between his legs.

“I need you,” she whispered.

“You have me, doll.” James began to kiss around the hem of her blouse. He motioned for it to be taken off and Alex swiftly pulled it off. “So beautiful. My Allie,” he whispered in between kisses.

She ran her hand through his hair. “My Jamie. I love you.”

“I love you too, doll.” He stood up and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him as he flipped them around and he laid her on the bed. “Let’s make a baby.”

“Now?”

“Now. No more threats, no more secrets. Its just us now doll. James and Alexandra. Bucky and Alex, Jamie and Allie.”

“Never called you Bucky. But Bucky and Alex works. Just like mommy and daddy.” She ran her fingertips over his chin. “I love you.”

“Oh doll. I love you.” Soon all their clothes were gone and James was hovering over his wife. He stared deep into her eyes as he rubbed his tip through her folds. “So wet doll. Almost as if you were excited to make me a daddy again.”

“Jamie, don’t tease,” Alex whined. “I need you.”

He grinned as he sank into her, stretching her slow. He watched as her head tilted back and her eyes rolled back. “Feel good?”

“So good baby but you have to move,” she moaned. James started on a steady pace, not really using force, just letting her feel good. “Oh god, Jamie,” she cried.

“Yeah Allie.” James flipped them so she was on top. She swiveled her hips and he groaned. “Just like that doll.” She bounced on him, feeling all of him. He could feel her starting to tighten. “You close baby?”

“So close. You feel so good inside me.” He grasped her hips tighter, pulling her down harder onto him. “Gonna cum.”

“Do it, love. All over me Allie.” James grunted at the force, wanting to be closer to her. He flipped them again and moved his hips hard. She gave a silent scream as she tightened around him. “Ah fuck!” He let go as well, moving slower, working them through.

They laid there a moment, the cloud of bliss still over them. The memories of lost love, love found, and love made flooded them. James held his girl, thankful that she wasn’t lost. She was saved.

F I V E Y E A R S L A T E R

“Andrew! Delilah! Its dinner time!” Alex called out to her children. She felt something around her ankles and looked down to see their white kitten, Alpine, twisting herself around her. “Yes, Al, dinner for you too.” Her children raced in, their German shepherd, Brooklyn, racing after them. “Wash your hands!” She turned back out the door. “Bucky! Steve! Dinner!”

James and Steve trudged in, still arguing on the best way to fix the bike. “I’m telling you it’s the exhaust,” Steve argued.

“Whatever punk, the pop noises are from the clutch, guaranteed.” James wiped his hands off and went to Alex. “Hey momma, how are you?”

“Tired but good.” His hand rested on the small bump on her belly, and she placed her hand over his. “Still too early to feel them, love.”

“Can’t wait to meet them love. Its everything we ever dreamed of.”

“It’s more Jamie. It’s so much more.”

James and Alexandra. Bucky and Alex. Jamie and Allie.

Family over everything.

*~* The End *~*

@patzammit

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@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

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#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #the type you save #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky x ofc #Steve rogers #detective AU #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut

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penvisions · 7 months ago

Text

gone to the dogs {chapter 5}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Reader ; brief mentions of Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Summary: Joel dwells on the new facet he's been witness to, internally overthinking over everything his had become and what it once was.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), angst, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, argumentative language, mutual disdain, sexual content, implication of sex work, unprotected piv, sexual acts, reader is snarky, reader gets violent, minor injuries, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing, both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

A/N: aaaaaand i'm back. please lemme know what you think?

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

It’s confusing, the way that he feels about you.

There are warning bells sounding inside his mind, even before the trip to Lincoln to meet with Bill and Frank. While that had helped to establish another partner for trade with a different set of goods, it also allowed him a glimpse into the person you had once been. It had made him begin to think of who you had been and the things the world had done to make you into who he knew you as.

He had been as genuine as he was able to when he approached you in the shower you had indulged in his growing attraction of you. The way you had seemed almost welcoming of him even as you stood naked underneath the stream of water and the whisper of his harsh words from the night before between you. You had allowed him in, had talked with him quietly, none of the biting words you both typically shared.

And then they came back, tinging the air and attitudes flaring the closer you got to the zone.

He doesn’t understand the pull he feels to align in your orbit, the way his appetite could only be sated should you provide toward it.

But he’s all too aware of it that morning as he groans and rolls over to find the bed empty. Tess is at the table, watching him with a detached look on her face. He had started out on the couch, unsure of when he had fallen into her orbit much like he’s used to, much like he’s realizing he’s doing with you.

“Cane dropped off some deliveries for you. I’m going to work, laying low for a while.”

He grunts, pushing himself off the bed. His head hangs between his shoulders as he scrubs aching hands over his face. The hush of his facial hair loud in the silence.

“Didn’t mean to kick you out of the bed.”

“You didn’t. You stayed on your side the entire night.”

“Still.”

“Look, you’re the one who put up the boundary, I’m not gonna push it. We can share a bed without it meaning anything. It’s just sleep.” She’s not upset, at least not that he can sense of her knowing her tells and tones, but she’s not happy either. More…reserved and resigned, willing to play along with the things he had confessed to her as they lay in a furnished house, in a nice bed, with blankets and covers that weren’t matted with dirt no matter how hard they scrubbed them in the sink.

“Gotcha.”

She was out the door before he could finish turning to look at her over his shoulder. He could hear you moving about in your space next door, the slow way your steps move atop the aged hardwood and threadbare carpet with such little sound. So light on your feet, like always. He’s seen it more times than he could count, the way you tip toe up landings of stairs ahead of him, feet light and steps quiet to not draw any attention to you. Always covering your tracks, minimizing the impact you have on your surroundings. Human or otherwise.

‘He can’t sleep, it’s too quiet. He keeps hearing the creak of floorboards, the soft voices of others through thin walls, vehicles patrolling the streets. His mind won’t quiet like the phantom sounds he hears that tell of life in the zone. He’s struggling with being away though he can’t stand to be there in the first place.

It’s an odd feeling, like he doesn’t belong. Anywhere.

The older men have ‘welcomed’ them into their home, albeit he’s sure their hospitality is more of an extension from their fondness of you and Frank’s delight in Tess. Not for him, never for him. A dangerous thing. A dangerous man. Someone to keep an eye on, to tread carefully and cautiously around. He thinks of how he’s had to use his hands, shut off parts of his brain while others shut down on their own in the wake of everything he’s been through, the things he’s done in the name of survival and protection.

And while he regrets, he also revels. In the things he didn’t know he was ever capable of. The things he never wanted to be capable of. He sees in in everyone, the potential. It’s instinct at this point, he sees in himself, in Tess, in you, in Bill and Frank, everyone he interacts with. It makes him a cautious man, exactly the same at the two who had offered him room and board for the night.

Though he doesn’t know if he would’ve done the same, if he had been in their position.

Maybe to Tess, maybe to you. But not another man. It’s hard to tell what they carry in themselves, hard to tell what he carries still and what he’s forced out of his mind.

He doesn’t startle when a soft hand begins to wander over his side, gently holding to his waist.

“What’s got you breathing so heavy?”

“Nothin’,” Is his immediate response, even in the cover of darkness he doesn’t want to open up his mind to the woman beside him. He can’t, she has her own history that plagues her. He knows about some of it, some of it he doesn’t. Some of it may be his fault, some of it is his fault, and he doesn’t…can’t handle hearing the confirmation even if he already knows. Already senses that his lack of willingness to talk, to put voice to things, the way they’ve lived dwells on Tess’s mind far too much. Especially now…

“Joel…” A sigh of her own fills the air, he can feel it on the back of his neck where she’s leaning into his space, arms wrapping around him as they always do. Cradling him, allowing him a moment to feel and not be the one providing, protecting, defending. She allows him that, the chance to just be. Even if he rarely feels like he needs to, even if he feels the need to far more often than he’d like to admit.

Her hand snakes lower, thumb hooking in between the worn leather of his belt and the waistband of his jeans. He had refused to change out of his clothes, while she had willingly and quickly shucked off her own clothing for the set of soft pajamas neatly folded on the bed when they had retired for the night. A finger dangles lower, feeling for him beneath the rough fabric and his mind short circuits.

He….he doesn’t want to. Even as the familiar flare of pleasure roils deep in his body.

“Tess, no.”

“Are you sure? Could help you to relax, actually get a decent night’s sleep for once.” She doesn’t move her hand lower or more firmly, she doesn’t lean into him more, but her words tell of her own willingness and something in him freezes.

“I said no,” He rumbles, feeling at odds with the way pleasure begins to unfurl in his nerves. A natural response to the woman beside him, the only woman he’s known in such a way for over two decades. A lie, his mind decides to betray him, he’d had you just the other day. In a way he’d never anticipated and it had set his nerves on fire and stalled his mind, his bravado crumbling the second your body responded and you touched him in return. It had been electrifying, the way your sounds

“I don’t, I can’t. It’s…it’s not fair to you.” It’s not that he doesn’t feel anything for her, on the contrary, she’s stuck by him for years. Knows him as well as he knows himself, or maybe even more at this point as he’s lost so much of who he used to be. Who he used to think was a good person, a good neighbor, a good brother…a good father. A thoughtful person who watched out for his own, protected and provided for his own as best he could with the hand he had been dealt.

“Don’t you dare make this about me, Joel.” Her voice betrays her, eyes searching his own as he rolls to face her head on, to face his decision and any consequences head on. She’s beautiful, his heart laments.

Her hair is smooth and shiny from a shower she had been allowed to indulge in, with actual hot water and products that he had recognized from his many trips to the store to try and find something to tame tighter curls than his own. Her face is more relaxed than he has seen in- ever, he thinks.

And of course, he would ruin the first real moment she’s had to herself in years. Since before the end of the world, probably.

Joel Miller, a failure once again.'

He shakes the memory from his mind, hoping that today can begin the new page he's intent on beginning.

“I keep forgetting y’all are relatively new here. But the way it happened was, she came outta nowhere, no one knew who she was. Barely recognizable among the mules used for trade to avoid suspicion when the zone first started changing.” The guy is surprisingly willing to talk with his drinking companions, unaware of Joel listening intently as he nurses his own glass. The room muggy and the air stale as the underground cellar is all but turned into a speak easy. “But then one day the man guy who came from the free lands beyond the walls was found dead with his throat ripped out. Teeth marks and a bloody fingerprints stamped on his forehead. Then all of a sudden, she’s in the middle or in charge of every trade, of every product coming in or out of the zone.”

“She was a mule?” The incredulous statement is just that, a statement. A matter of fact that Joel can feel even in the absurdity of the words uttered by a stranger. A theory he’s had since Frank had checked on you, one on one. The worry and anxiety he had expressed at the way you two had been separated spoke more than the story he was sure to never hear the entirety of. It would explain how you knew so much, every small gap in the fence. Every officer to work with, which ones to avoid. The camaraderie he’s sensed between you and some of them even if your face falls the second you turn away from them. How some of them, how some people of the zone, flock to you.

There are no more mules, no more women who are used to trade. Everything done between willing participants, the use of those unwilling eradicated by someone who had been in their place once. He can almost picture it, even if he doesn’t want to. A younger version of you, terrified but cunning. Biding the time until you could take your power back.

“That’s the rumor, she didn’t even come into the zone proper or get registered, FEDRA turns an eye on her because they benefit from her supplies. Some of them fall at their feet for the chance to interact with her.”

“Shit, she’s really got everyone wrapped around her little finger.”

“People tried to report her, rat her out to soldiers because of how much she was charging but she never got caught and then the next day whoever tried to do it would show up dead. The only person who didn’t was her brother, who watched after her like a damn guard dog, day and night. Those damn little paw print stamps were on everything from that point on, the same ones used now.”

Everything froze in the room as the sound of thunder boomed overhead, the heavy sound of tanks rumbling down the road up above following the sound of rain falling heavy.

“You mean to tell me, some little girl who was being used as a mule ended up being in charge of the entire smuggling scene?” The young woman refilling drinks and taking ration cards couldn’t quell her curiosity, the talk of you buzzing all around the room. It was only natural, you were a woman holding control over something, she was but a server working out a debt in the underground bar.

“She ain’t no little girl anymore. Bitch is fit to tear people apart if she even so much as senses they’re thinking of turning her in or ambushing her. Things got a little different after she turned her own brother in, claiming he used her as a mule too to save her ass from getting caught. But no one really bought the lie when the scene didn’t change after his death. She’s always alone though, no one was looking after her until Miller showed up. But damn if she wasn’t hard to find, kept to the shadows and had soldiers doing most of the trading for her.”

The woman glanced over at Joel, not lifting her eyes to meet his as he placed a card on the table to signal he wanted another pour. She did so, his gruff nod of acknowledgement catching her off guard when he didn’t reach for her in a move she was far too used to at this point. When she pocketed the card, he reached out and slipped another few into her hand directly.

She didn’t say anything and neither did he. Draining his glass, he stood and exited the seedy basement.

He stands outside in the alley, letting the rain sprinkle on his face and neck, reveling in the cool feel of it as it sobers him up. He’s still coming down, the day had been long as he realized just how much he had taken. The events of last night play over his head, the snarl of your lips, the heft of your words, the feeling of the cut off fingers thudding into his chest as you pinned him down. His neck stings as the salt in the rain touches the thin cut on his neck and he thinks over the words of the other patrons.

He feels something swell in his chest, a mixture of emotions knows is tainted by dangerous ones. Like desire.

You had been a mule. Not even legal when the outbreak happened, forced into working the underground scene. Separated from the only person who you had known, forcefully from the way he recalls the conversation between you and Frank. But yet…you had flourished. Grown thick skin, a pelt of protection, a snarl to your lips, and threat to your words. A mirror of who he had turned into, the thought heady as it swirls around his mind.

You had made something of the situation, taking it over and blossoming into someone who had the power instead of being controlled by it. There was no doubt you were behind the ransacking of the apartments once they had returned to the zone. He wondered why for a moment, before he realized that it didn’t matter. He and Tess would fall in line, rather be a part of it and work with you than find themselves on the other side of the line and working against you or competing with you.

It was…admirable, he had to admit. Even if he couldn’t stand the air you sometimes adapted around him. Matching his comments, his attitude, his undermining and authority when he put his foot down. He sees it for what it truly is now, a match to his energy. To hide your own meanings and intentions by butting heads with him. Not at all a false notion, as he’s seen real annoyance and frustration flare to life in your eyes more than once. Now that he’s seen another facet of who you are…

He wonders if…if he were to calm down, would you do the same? He’s tired, the days dragging on and the circumstances getting more dire. He didn’t want to waste energy he didn’t have.

He must’ve been standing there for longer than he realized, because the young girl who had been serving steps out, steps faltering as she sees his shadow close to the door.

“Oh! I’m…you startled me.” He sees that same sparkle of fear he had in your own face, though it’s more apparent, more glaring in this scenario. She doesn’t quickly hide it, gloss over it like you had. She’s innocent, she’s doing her best with what she’s got. But it’s not enough, it will never be enough. For either of you. For him.

“Didn’t mean to.”

“Thank- thank you, for the cards.” She takes a deep breath, as if stealing herself. “Do you want-“

“Don’t wanna see you in there again, you hear me?” Joel cuts her off, aware of his drawl encompassing his words more than usual. The gruff way he shoves the sentiment from deep within his chest, thoughts of a younger version of you in his mind, of his own daughter being forced into the same situation. Of how unfair and disgusting it is, the way women are treated in the end of the world, like just another possession to control and seek after. If he can prevent it in this case, then he would.

“You go home and you stay home, do the work organized by the zone. Only the work organized by the zone.” He catches her eyes, dipping his head in order to do so. She’s frightened, unsure of what is going ton, but she’s remained quiet. A nod of her head is all the answer he gets. “You need anything, you come to me. Food, water, clothing, a place to hide away. No strings or favors attached.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

And then he’s shrugging off from his spot against the wall, shoulders of his jacket damp just as his curls begin to feel the weight of the rain collected on them. It isn’t much, but it’s something. He’s tired of wasting energy in an endless fight for hierarchy, he just wants to feel like a person again. You allow him the space to, your hesitant revelations of late letting him know that there’s a yearning to feel normal that lives in you too.

The tear of your skin from the barbs is hidden by the pelting rain much like the scream you suppress into a huff of breath, the snag of it pulling a slight whimper in the base of your throat. Muscles tensing, you continue to haul yourself over the top of the fence, the barbs dragging further as you move over them and allow yourself to fall on the other side. Rolling, you try to minimize the impact, your feet finding purchase and you take off down the dim street as search lights continue to search the part of the city you just escaped.

Steps quiet, the adrenaline coursing through your veins spurs you forward, jacket intact but shirt beneath it torn and you hold a hand tight to your middle with a hiss.

The rain comes down in heavy sheets now, just a sparse sprinkle when it had first started. But now thunder and lightning accompany it. The sky lighting up with every deafening boom and you tried to stick to the shadows of the buildings, using them as hideaways as you made your way back to your building.

You barely plopped down into the chair when you heard the muffled voices of your partners next door.

Shrugging from your jacket, you pulled your hair up out of the way before you began to pull the saturated shirt from your upper body. A hiss fell from your lips when the torn fabric stuck to the still bleeding cuts on your middle. Holding your breath, you carefully removed it and tossed the thing to crumble into a heap on the floor. The bite of your belt buckle into your stomach was ignored as you took a healthy drink from the bottle of amber liquid beside you on the table.

“Fuck,” You whispered to the empty apartment as you began to open the sterile packs assembled on the tabletop.

You’re barely on the second pinch of your skin at the needle’s end when the hinges on the door creak. A lucky thing that you recognize the man walking through it, having blanked out on locking it in your haste.

“Hey, I’ve got those credits you-“ Joel trails off when the door opens easily and he’s privy to the scene of you trying to stitch yourself up. Hands trembling slightly and head craned at an awkward angel to best see the spot that needs tending low on your stomach.

“Just set them on the table.” You don’t look up from where you pierce your skin with the needle, silver medical wire catching the light as you pull it as taut as you safely could, blood seeping through the wound at the action. Twin drops of it trailing down your skin to sink into the fabric of your undone waist band pulled to the side, undone belt clinking with the motion of you reaching for another swig of liquid courage.

“Let me,” Joel’s voice is quiet, nearly soft in the way it lacks the gruff edges normally adorning his words.

He’s scooting another chair closer to you, his hands wiped clean on the abandoned cleansing cloth you used among the supplies. His thick fingers carefully extract the needle from your own, mindful to not pull at the work you’ve already managed. His other hand replaces yours where you had been holding the wound closed, eyes narrowing when he could hear the sharp inhale you took and the faint whimper that sounded out on your exhale.

“Does this mean I’ve got a hunt tomorrow?”

“Unless you plan on beating the shit out of a fence,” You try to joke, but the words get caught in your throat when the sting of the thread moving in your skin causes you to shudder. “Hold on, let me-“

“I gotcha, won’t move until you give me the go ahead.”

Ignoring how close he is to you, kneeled before you with his hands so warm against your middle, you reach for the dime bag stamped with your mark and down the four pills inside with another swig of the amber liquid.

“Okay,” You grit your teeth against the unsavory taste, the feel of the pills slipping down your throat. It was what he was waiting for, before picking the task up again.

The shabby apartment is quiet save for the harsh pattering of rain, distant booms of thunder and the even breathing of you both. The air is tense, if only just a bit, neither willing to break almost peaceful spell that had befallen after such a hectic few days and tense weeks. A crux, almost, that you found yourself teetering on with the man. One path that would lead to continuous arguing, violence and second guessing each other or one path that would lead to a better understanding of each other and allow for things to flow more smoothly.

Joel’s wiping away the blood smeared into your skin as best he can now, the end of the stitches tied neatly off and knotted so they remain secure and do their job well. Eight of them, all in all. The cut a harsh line in the soft spot of your belly, the pudge that had begun to form and stubbornly refuse to burn off even after long days of trekking and working despite a lack of nourishing food. It reminds you of how you looked before, when you were able to be the person who you had always wanted to be. But the end of the world had laid ruin to a lot, including the full shape your body had once been.

“Any others?” Joels fingers are wrapping around the bottle of whiskey, a full swig taken followed by another. You can’t help but watch as his throat bobs with the action, your body feeling the narcotics begin to kick in. Tingling sensations skating across your skin and chasing away the pain of the day, of the night, of survival. If only for a moment.

“Dunno, body feels like one big bruise.”

He sighs, shaking his head slightly as he regards the supplies sprawled on the table. Then the tremble of your left hand, the way your palm is inflamed and the cuts there you either don’t register or are ignoring.

“Let’s start with your hand then…” He’s silently thankful when you allow him to grasp it lightly and pull it into his space to look over.

It’s late, sleep evading you the second the pills began to wear off and the pain of your injury flared.

Pulled you up from the depths of your induced sleep. From the shower Joel had helped you to take, to the inspection he had done for anymore injuries. His quiet voice, the deep rasp of it had lulled you as he laid you down once the drugs and exhaustion took over.

You’re pacing in the little free space of your bedroom, in front of the window. The rain is still falling, though the storm seems to have passed. You’ve got one of the small stamps that had been molded and carved out from a bit of rubber. Tumbling the item in your good hand when you hear the floorboards groan underneath someone’s foot.

Spinning around, you see the dark outline of Joel in the doorway, filling the frame as he simply watches you. And it’s unnerving how at ease you feel seeing him there in the middle of the night, when he’s never been in your apartment longer than a few hours to discuss runs or plans. To help with rationing cards, food, or portioning out contraband.

“Y’need to rest. Antibiotics are gonna take it out of you when they kick in.” He’s quiet, voice low as he stands in his spot.

“Pain woke me up, took another pill to even it out.” You keep your voice low, not wanting to break whatever spell is still cast over your apartment. The one that allowed for you both to see each other as people, as equals. No overly harsh words spit at each other. It’s allowing you to glimpse at who he is in his own moments, in the quiet of the evening, in the dead of night when there’s no one to perform for, no one to front for.

“C’mon, lay down. Pacing is just gonna irritate the stitches.”

“You don’t control me.” You can’t help but breathe out heavily, the heft of your body and the pain throbbing in your middle making you irritable despite the atmosphere.

“Not tryna control you, tryna take care of you,” Joel is moving toward you, his frame towering over your slightly hunched over one. He’s all shadows in the darkness of the room, the streetlamps are out on your block. When you take a step back and tighten the grip around the stamp in your hand, he sighs. “Even though I know you don’t need it, least of all from me.”

“I don’t.” You can’t help but rebut. The paranoid part of your brain thinking this was all just some sort of game, some con he was pulling on you. Always on the lookout, always on alert. And it’s tiring, just as much as it is rewarding.

“Tess does, sometimes.” He tries to reason, tries to appeal to you. “I do, too.”

You think back to the way he stalls in moments beyond the walls, when he thinks no one is looking. How he bumps a fist to the center of his chest as if to dislodge something. The pressure of the world and this life settling sharp and heavy in his chest, making it hard to breathe sometimes. Your eyes linger on the scar about his temple, those on his knuckles, the cracks of his knees as he takes big steps up or around something. The palm he holds to his back and the swagger you know he doesn’t deliberately put into his steps as he treads down the hallway at the end of a shift.

“Only had my brother to take care of me. And it was only for a little while.” You confess, heart seizing at the memories of your brother. His last smile to you. You blink back to reality when there’s a tug of your hand. Joel is unfolding your fingers from around the stamp, thick fingers gently prodding at the skin beneath the gauze wrapped there.

Huh. You had been unconsciously pushing into the wound with it, mind relishing in the sting.

“Gonna tear it even deeper, doin’ that.” He’s pocketing the stamp, and you think to argue against it but as you part your lips to do so he’s swooping down to brush his nose against yours. “Lemme distract you another way, yeah?”

“You’re seriously propositioning me right now?” Your words fall short when you don’t step back from him any further. Body already shimmering at the mere suggestion of his moving against it.

“Only if you’re willing.” It’s an honest response, a genuine one. There’s no teasing.

“What’s the point?”

“The point?” He’s pressing his forehead to yours. “The point is for you to see me, for you to know that I see you. To see that I’m tryna meet you in the middle.”

“But…why?” You whisper, unable to quell the almost giddy sensation of curiosity as you realize he’s being completely open with you right now. That he’s not playing games or trying to manipulate you, nor is he trying to prove a point like he had been the first time around.

“Because I’m tired, Cane.” He admits, “Tired of fightin’.”

“Fighting is half the fun of being paired up, get to rile you up.”

“Fun? Girl, you gotta twisted notion of fun.”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” You smirk, sure he could feel the corner of your mouth pressed to his cheek as you whisper into his ear. But you match the tone of the energy still flowing about the room, the energy flowing between you and press your lips to his in a kiss.

It’s soft, the way his lips move against yours. No nipping teeth or forceful tongue. His hands snake around your waist and pull you to him, body warm and overwhelming as you feel the way he’s already hard.

The kisses turn deeper as clothing is removed, pressed to lips, to shoulders, to the bare skin of your breasts as they are revealed to the cool air. Nipping now, against peaked nubs and exposed thighs, just as your nails leave faint marks of their own on his back, on the front of his stomach where hairs trail down to his weeping cock.

The world stills as he enters you, bodies in tune to each other and your mind blanks as he nestles himself deep and stills. Twin groans of appreciation echo in the air, loud and sharp. His lips find yours in a chaste peck, tasting the soft groan of reverence as it sounds from between them.

“Look at that, little pup just needed something nice and big to fill her up, huh?” He grinds his hips into yours, the coarse hairs surrounding him tingling where they rub at sensitive skin. “To help her calm down and quiet those thoughts in her head.”

“Sh-shut up.” Your words don’t carry any heat behind them, as your eyes clench shut and your body sings in tune with his. Your hips buck, your walls clench, and your breathing heaves. He’s got you exactly where he wants you and he knows it. You know it too, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to submit. Not completely at least, there was no fun in that. But you know that, just under the surface of newfound acquiescence, that the man reveled in the banter you shared. Because you did too.

You trail your hands down from his neck to his shoulders, unclasping them from behind him to push him up. He’s moving with you, willingly, even as you crowd against him and shift him to his back. His eyes are blown wide, pupils taken over as you glimpse them in a strike of lightning that brightens the sky.

“Gonna show me whose boss?” He taunts, even as you can feel the rapid beat of his heart where you hand rests over his chest. Grounding you as you lower yourself back onto him, the glide of him easy as his slick and your own scent the air. “Cause tha’s mighty fine with me.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it all that much the other day.” You gasp as the head of his cock catches deep inside you, sending a bolt of pleasure through you body as thunder booms overhead.

“I was high outta my mind, ain’t my fault.” He grunts out as you settle flush against him. Leaning forward to press your face into the crook of his neck. Your teeth sink into the skin there, tongue tasting the salt of his sweat as you place open mouthed kisses up to his good ear.

“Everything is your fault.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is. But you seem to like this outcome, I sure as fuck do.” He circles his hips, meeting your own swivel, twitching deep inside you as he grips tightly to your hips. His fingers will leave marks, but you think for a moment that it might be glance them in the mirror until they fade. They tighten, gripping to steady you as he begins to thrust up, punching the breath from your lungs with each delicious drag of his length.

“Just this once.” You moan out, voice rounding out as you begin to flutter around him, your stomach tightening as heat and pleasure burn through you. You lean back and rest your palms on his thighs. Hips circling and grinding at a fast pace. The pad of his thumb is pressing to you, jolting you forward and breaking your rhythm momentarily. Your body sings, pleasure cresting and washing over you in waves that could drown. But you catch your breath and ride them out, eyes beginning to droop even as you feel the hot spurts of Joel’s own release paint your insides.

It’s early, the sun barely showing signs of nearing the horizon. The deep, velvet blue of night lightening in pinks and oranges that begin to color the room and allow you to see the man you felt in your bed the entire night.

Joel is still naked, the thin sheets and coverlet covering only his lower half, allowing you a full view of him beside you. He’s breathing evenly, deeply. You had ended up with your large shirt back on, to help keep the stitches a little cleaner once you had been cleaned with a dampened rag. Something you hadn’t expected of the man, even with this new…shift in the air.

It was peaceful, the night taking a turn you hadn’t expected. And your mind ticks and tocks with the possibilities of now having a somewhat more willing Joel by your side. A guard dog that is sworn to you, should you allow him to. A person who wants to appease you and ensure your safety, in all aspects of your life now, not just as a benefit to their own.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel’s sudden voice catches your own even breathing, taking you off guard.

“Like what, Miller?” Recovering quickly from your introspection, you roll your eyes; sure he can feel the motion even with his back still turned to you on the other side of the bed. Of course, he had felt you admiring the muscles of his broad back, the way his shoulders were dusted with faint freckles and dotted with dark moles, much like his strong neck and arms. The narrowing of his waist down to his hips, the dimples he had there just above his firm and shapely ass. He was beautiful, though you wouldn’t admit it to him aloud. “You’re not even facing me.”

“You know what.” He rumbles, voice impossible deep and devastating with sleep that clings to him, refuses to let him go even as he begins to stir in the early hour. A shiver runs down your spine, filthy words from last night

“You’re conceited, you know that?”

“Didn’t seem to mind it last night,” He’s smirking as he rolls over to finally reveal his waking face to you. Eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, relaxed almost as he begins to come back to himself and the world. His curls are a bit wild from his sleep, from the night before when you had run your fingers through the tresses, tangled them and pulled them tight. “Tellin’ me how good I felt, how big I was. Gave me a reason to be conceited, darlin’.”

“Oh no, don’t you start with that. You may have a big dick but it don’t mean you gotta act like one.”

“Like what?” He parrots, teeth glinting as he brandishes a wolfish grin at you. You feel the corners of your mouth twitch, a smile fighting to flourish, and you purse your lips so he can’t see it. Brows furrowing, you lean up and

“You know what.” You parrot back, dodging his ducking head as he prepares to nip at you again. It’s a slow roll away and out from under him, but he allows the movement, leaning back onto his knees more to make space. “We got a trek today, want to check out the hotel and then the old bunker underneath the west end hospital.”

“Long trek.”

“Old man, if I can handle it so can you.” You slowly stand to your full height, stomach pulling as the stitches are moved about slightly. Hands over in front of you as you gauge the slight blossom of discomfort.

“Let this old man into your bed.” His hands are hovering over you, ready to catch you should you fall, ready to do whatever they could to help should you need it, should you ask him to.

“Yeah, well, figured he needed something sweet to keep him in line. What’s sweeter than a pretty little thing than me, hmm?”

“God damn, you’re insufferable.” He huffs, the bed springs groaning as he disappears from his spot behind you. You look over your shoulder to see him pulling his ragged jeans back on. He’s turned away from you but that doesn’t stop you from watching him as he does so.

“You too, Miller.” You’re shoving him toward to the kitchen, intent on him starting a serving of coffee before the day truly begins, the sun beginning to shine through the broken blinds and thin curtains as it rises above the towering wall that surrounds the zone. “Now go make some coffee, yeah?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He let’s the momentum of your push carry him across the threshold into the rest of the apartment. He’s smirking, you can tell by the tone of his voice but you don’t let it simmer in your chest for too long before you’re focusing on cleaning the wound and replacing the bandage over it. Dressing for another long day, but at least you’ve got a more willing guard dog by your side to accompany you outside the walls now.

Everything seems to be falling into place, tempers easing, and your power no longer being questioned but accepted. You try to shake the feeling that something bigger is wavering on the horizon, now that you and Joel have found common ground and somewhat of an understanding.

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