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yelena-bellova · 1 year

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: Free

Plot: The morning after Y/n and Jamie’s heartbreaking talk, an unexpected savior shows up on Y/n’s door, leaving her at a crossroads.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child neglect/abuse, mention of sex

A/N: THIS IS IT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS THE CHAPTER. I’m so excited for you guys to read this one and have all your questions answered. I hope the payoff is as sweet as you’ve been expecting. Y’all have been so enthusiastic over the last few chapters, it really makes me smile. Enjoy!! ❤️💙💛

———————

Heartache could spread through the body just as easily as illness. Y/n’s head was fogged, her limbs hurt and she felt nauseous the second she opened her eyes.

Somehow she managed to call room service and order breakfast, plain toast and coffee, before falling back into bed. The clock read 10AM, she hasn’t slept that long in years. Then again, there wasn’t much sleep had.

The weight of Jamie’s confession weighed in her chest just as heavily as the moment he’d made it. She’d been up till some unholy hour, replaying the whole thing. His words, the quiver in his voice, his lips against her face…it reduced Y/n fits of tears, breaking her over and over.

There was no question as to whether she should skip the match or not. Not only did she have no desire to be around people, but she didn’t want to mess with Jamie’s head any more than she already had. She was worried enough she’d already cost him the game.

A rhythmic knock at her door signaled room service arriving. Y/n trudged across the room and opened the door, expecting to meet the waiter.

Instead, she got Ted, comically lifting the lid off the platter.

“Mornin’ sunshine!”

Y/n sighed, smiling as much as she could, which wasn’t very much.

Ted, however, found himself hilarious. “Room service fella was about to knock right as I was walkin’ by. Thought I’d have some fun with it.”

“Of course,” Y/n gestured to the room, “Come on in.”

Ted set the tray down on the table before turning back to Y/n, who was already moving to the other side of the room. There was a stiffness to her posture, as if she’d allowed a home invader in. Ted was well familiarized with her character, but he hadn’t seen her so reserved since she first started at Richmond.

“So what’s up?” Y/n asked, her tone devoid of any life.

“Oh, I just wanted to check up on you,” Ted shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets, “Haven’t seen ya in a while.”

“Yeah, things have been busy.”

“I bet,” Ted smiled, “You and Keeley must be kickin’ butt over there. The Dynamic Duo, but with gobs more style.”

Y/n chucked politely, playing with her hands out of nervousness.

Ted waited, watching as Y/n tried to dodge his line of vision. He didn’t expect an explanation to fly out of her mouth, but she was clearly on edge. His chances of waiting her out were decent.

“Well, we’re all glad you’re back,” Ted added, “Owner’s box has been lonely without you, I’ll bet.”

Y/n shut her eyes, it made the lying easier. “Yeah, Ted, I don’t think I can make this one.”

His face didn’t fall an inch, “Oh no. Something wrong?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” she continued, that part was true. She thought she remembered the clock reading 5AM around the time exhaustion took over.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ted played along, “I know the boys miss havin’ you around.”

Y/n slipped around the topic, walking to the window. “They excited for today?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “Revved up and ready to go.”

“That’s good,” she kicked her foot against the wall and diverted her gaze to the curtains. “How’s, uh…how’s Jamie?”

Ted studied Y/n, taking in her fidgeting hands and the exaggerated effort to her words. As hard as she tried, Y/n wasn’t that good an actress.

“He’s alright,” Ted answered, “Bit off, y’know. Little bit like you.”

With every word exchanged, Y/n could feel Ted unraveling the whole thing. He could see right through her.

“That’s too bad,” she said, her voice wobbling. The tears that she’d fallen asleep with were reawakening.

“Yeah, it is,” Ted agreed, “I sure hope he figures out whatever’s botherin’ him before the game.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, “He’s got a lot of people counting on him.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t as big a deal,” Ted took a seat on the edge of Y/n’s bed. “I’m more concerned with him, y’know. Why he’s hurtin’.”

Ted noticed Y/n’s shoulders begin to tremble.

“Why he’s keepin’ whatever it is to himself rather than leanin’ on somebody.”

Y/n wiped her hands over her face, her cheeks wet with guilt. She had finally reached it, her dreaded breaking point.

She turned to Ted, who looked at her as only a father could. He knew.

“You wanna tell me anything goin’ on?”

Crossing the room and sinking down on the mattress next to Ted, Y/n softly sobbed.

“Is it Jamie?” Ted asked.

Y/n bit her lip.

“Is it us?”

She sniffled.

“Whole enchilada?”

Y/n’s trembled as she inhaled, “I’m scared, Ted.”

“Of what?”

“This,” she gestured around them, “Richmond. This whole thing.”

Ted waited for her to explain further.

“I grew up having to fight for every shred of attention,” Y/n continued, “Doing everything I could to get my parents to…care. And no matter what I did, they never loved me. Not like parents are supposed to love their kids. And when I realized that, I just…shut everyone out. In high school, in college…and it worked. I was safe. I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

“And then I…” Y/n paused, the happy memory washing over her, “I met these two women in a bar and they offered me a job. And suddenly, I’m a part of this sport that I never cared about and there’s this…family I never asked for. And it should have made me happy,” she grasped her stomach, “But it scared me, Ted. It fucking terrified me because you were all so kind and welcoming and you just took me in.”

She stopped to take a breath, “And then Jamie just…” Y/n sniffled, “He just…happened. And that was the scariest part because…”

She couldn’t say the words. Just like 12 hours before, she still couldn’t physically force them out of her body. But somehow, even without speaking, the sentiment got across.

“Hey,” Ted slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. His dad mode had been activated.

For the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to be held as she weeped.

“It’s okay,” Ted soothed, rubbing a hand over her arm, “You’re okay.”

After hours of crying underneath her sheets, Y/n thought she had nothing left to give. But the comfort of another person’s presence created a whole new wave. She was letting down from years of self-determination to conquer her pain on her own.

“Y’know,” Ted said after a moment, “Openin’ yourself up’s one of the scariest things in the world. Anyone who says otherwise’s never really done much hurting. But it’s worth it.”

“How do you know that?” Y/n whimpered.

“You don’t,” Ted stated, “No way to know what’ll happen before it happens. But if you don’t take the risk of gettin’ hurt, you’ll never end up with anything worth having. Just how life works.”

“But y’know,” he sighed, “Where we work…it’s kinda the exception. The people there’re some of the best I’ve ever known. They don’t let you down.”

Y/n’s tears were slowing in speed, but not intensity.

“Know how our right reverend Mr. Rojas likes to say that football is life?” Ted earned a slight smile from Y/n, “Same goes for AFC Richmond. These people’re gonna stick by you through thick and thin. Once you’re a part of the family, you’re there. Doesn’t matter if you wanna be. It’s up to you whether you let ‘em in..but they’re gonna love you whether you like it or not. It’s a heck of a lot easier to just let ‘em.”

Throughout the years, Y/n had lacked many relationships, but that of a parent was the one she’d longed for the most. She needed someone to help guide her, to lovingly correct her when she was making the biggest mistakes of her life. In the moment she needed it most, Ted fit the role perfectly.

Without any prompting, Y/n slipped her arms around Ted’s neck and hugged him.

Ted returned and received it, he’d been going through it too. As true as ever, helping someone out of their pit stitched a little piece of him back together as well. He wanted Y/n to succeed in everything she did and he believed without a doubt that she could. But he wanted her to be happy, truly happy, more than anything.

“Thank you,” she whispered over his shoulder.

“No thanks needed,” he smiled, “I got your back.”

Y/n let go of him slowly and hesitantly. It was 10:30, the match was less than two hours away. “You need to go.”

“I do,” Ted replied, patting her shoulder before standing up, “You think you’re gonna stop by for a bit now? Cheer us on?”

Grimacing slightly, Y/n ducked her head towards the floor.

“C’mon now,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I thought we just made progress.”

Y/n chuckled and wiped under her eyes.

“Well, I hope you change your mind.”

Ted left Y/n with plenty to mediate on and strolled back into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He could lead her to victory, but he couldn’t hand her the win.

Y/n stayed on the bed’s edge a long while after Ted left, contemplating all he’d said. She was at what was potentially the most important crossroads of her life. Heeding Ted’s advice held the possibility of more heartache, more loss, more feelings of inadequacy. But didn’t her isolation already offer that in spades? Wasn’t she hurting enough on her own? Tearing herself down at every opportunity? How could anything possibly be worse than that?

But she had felt worse, twelve hours ago. Breaking Jamie’s heart after he’d poured his out to her had crushed her. She’d hurt him so deeply in the name of self preservation. Walking away from him was the most difficult thing she’d ever done. The worst part was that it was totally avoidable. If she’d have told him that she loved him too, they’d have been saved so much pain. Jamie wouldn’t have had to endure her rejection, Y/n wouldn’t have lost the most important person in her life. The blame was entirely hers.

It wasn’t just Jamie. Y/n was so tired of keeping Keeley at arm’s length. She craved her weekly tea with Rebecca. She missed problem solving with Higgins. She wanted to laugh with Ted and talk life with Beard and annoy Roy. She wanted to go to movies with Sam and drink with Dani and have lunches with Colin. She wanted to cheer the boys on at games and celebrate with them after.

She wanted to win and lose with all of them.

She wanted to be a part of their family.

But to do so, she had to heal her first one.

Before she knew what she was doing, Y/n grabbed her phone off her nightstand. She scrolled through her contacts, even though she had memorized the number in hopes that would somehow equal a call. She pressed the name and dialed.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Y/n hadn’t expected them to pick up. It was 4-something AM where they were.

The familiar message played, asking her to leave her name and number.

Finally, the machine beeped.

“Hi…it’s me…” she started, suddenly nervous, “It’s Y/n. I know it’s early there, I don’t even know if you are there but…I needed to do this.”

Y/n drew a quick breath, it was now or never. “You guys really fucked me up. Me and Caylee. I mean, we’re really screwed up because of you. Maybe she’s doing better than me, maybe I’m the only one who’s still not over all of it but…you really messed up. And maybe you know that, maybe you don’t, but it’s the truth. I am…” she paused, “So broken because you two couldn’t love me. No— you know what,” her voice gained strength, “You could have loved me. You didn’t. For whatever reason, you didn’t. I did everything I possibly could to earn your love, and I never got it. And that’s fucked up.”

Her anger hastened her heartbeat, urging Y/n to go on. “And I don’t know how to forgive you for that. I know it’s possible, worse people have done worse things and they’ve somehow found a way to still be a family, but…I want to. If not for you guys, for me,” her chest’s rise and falls had evened out, “Because I’m tired of being broken. I’m tired of pushing everybody away. I’m tired of thinking that there’s something unlovable about me. I’m tired of thinking that being alone is somehow better than having people that care about you, and I’m tired of being scared,” Y/n threw her free arm out at her side and laughed, “I’m so tired of being scared.”

“None of this probably makes any sense to you, but, ” she sighed, “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to keep doing this. Only talking on my birthday, seeing you every couple years, not knowing what’s going on in your lives…I don’t want that. I want to know you. I want to come home for Christmas. I want to share my life with you. And if you can’t do that then…I don’t want anything.”

Her own words shocked her, was she really potentially kicking her parents out of her life?

“Because I’ve built a really amazing life here,” she said, her voice faltered with emotion, “With amazing people and they love me. They really love me and I’m crazy about them. And I want you guys to be a part of it,” she exhaled and felt the tears rock forward in her eyes, “And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. I’ll be alright because I have them.”

Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of a lifetime lift off her chest.

“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad,” she continued, “And I hope you love me, for once, more than you do anything else.”

Y/n lowered the phone, staring at the call time. 2 minutes and 10 seconds was all it had taken. “Bye.”

The moment she disconnected, the room suddenly came to life. There was color to the walls and texture to the curtains. There was light shining in through the window and the smell of the coffee on its tray filled the room.

Y/n was free.

Lightened by the release of her life’s pain, the decision at hand became so clear. Y/n flipped on the hotel television, switching the channel to Sky Sports. The match was already into its second half and the Greyhounds were up by one goal.

She did the math in her head. The stadium was ten minutes away. She could still make it.

Flying across the room, Y/n dug through her suitcase for any clothes that weren’t pajamas. She emptied the contents onto her bed only to spot a familiar piece of fabric tucked in one of the compartments.

Y/n unfolded it.

Jamie’s jersey. Still packed from Wembley.

She laughed under her breath, the coincidence of it all was too perfect.

Y/n slipped on the oversized shirt, same as the last time. She threw on jeans and sneakers, grabbing her phone and coat before racing out her hotel room.

The elevator would take too long, she decided, so she sped down the stairs from the sixth floor all the way to the lobby. Jamie hadn’t been the only one to benefit from Roy’s training sessions.

Y/n bolted out the front doors of the hotel and ran to the sidewalk, waving her hands wildly to the cabs that drove by. Eventually, one stopped for her.

“Where to, love?”

“Ethiad Stadium,” Y/n answered as she hopped in the backseat, “Quick as you can.”

The cabbie got back in his lane and took her the way of the stadium. Y/n buzzed in the backseat, adrenaline pulsing through her veins at what she was doing.

“Could you put the match on?” She asked, most of them were typically broadcasted on the radio.

The driver flipped the station till he found the correct one. Y/n listened intently from the backseat, hanging on every word.

Halfway to the stadium, the cab hit typical game day traffic. After waiting impatiently a few minutes, the commentators announced there were twenty minutes left on the clock. If nothing changed in the next thirty seconds, Y/n would miss it entirely.

“You know what,” she reached into her coat pocket, picking a few bills from her wallet and throwing them in the front seat, “Keep the change.”

Y/n ignored the confused calls of the driver as she slid out the backseat into traffic. She ran through the lines of cars until she hit sidewalk. With every slap of her foot against the sidewalk, she could feel Ted’s words penetrate her heart even further. This was what she was supposed to feel.

The sight of Ethiad Stadium welcomed her. Guided by signage, she sprinted to the back entrance she’d usually come through with Rebecca and Keeley. Her sneakers practically screeched across the marble floor, slowing down only for the metal detector and security pat-down.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” Y/n recited her name to the liaison holding a guest list, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Ah,” the young man located her, “Welcome to Ethiad Stadium, Miss-“

Y/n was off before he could finish, bolting up the staircase that would lead her to the VIP box.

She pushed past guests dressed far nicer than her and slid through gaps half her size. Somewhere along the way, Arlo White and Chris Park’s voices became clearer. They were being played through the stadium’s sound system.

“Tartt tried to soldier on, but now he’s in some distress and may require attention.”

Y/n’s steps slowed, pausing in the busy hall to listen properly.

“The med team is helping him off the field. It looks like Richmond may be in trouble.”

Never in her life had Y/n run faster.

Arriving at the VIP box, she rushed up to the security guard.

“Ticket please.”

“I don’t have one,” Y/n panted, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Sorry, love,” the burly man shook his head, “Can’t let you in without a ticket.”

“No, no, no, I’m PR,” Y/n insisted, “I need to get in there now.”

The security guard was unmovable, taking a firm stance in the doorway to block her. “I can’t allow you in without a ticket, ma’am.”

With Jamie injured, there was a new recklessness to Y/n’s urgency. She didn’t quite care what she had to do to get in. She jumped in place to see over the guard’s shoulder, spotting the top of Rebecca’s coiffed hair and Keeley’s curls.

“There! There’s my bosses!” Y/n exclaimed, surging forward through the tiny space between the man and the door.

He pulled her back and away from getting any further, “You can’t enter without a ticket. If you don’t leave now-“

“Rebecca!” Y/n shouted, “Keeley! Keeley! Rebecca!”

She was loud enough that both women, plus Higgins, turned around in their seats. The sight of Y/n struggling against the security guard must have frightened them more than she’d intended.

Rebecca rushed through the room, “Let her go! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“You know this woman?” The guard asked, still holding Y/n back as if she were some crazed fan.

“She works with me,” Keeley scolded, having followed Rebecca, “Get your fucking hands off her.”

The guard released Y/n quickly, eager to avoid any more reprimanding. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he addressed her, “Go on in.”

Y/n launched herself into Rebecca’s waiting arms, exhausted but charging off once more with the women.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” Keeley said as they rushed back to their seats.

Ignoring any and all things around her, Y/n ran down the steps of the box and threw herself against the railing. Jamie. Where was Jamie?

Down by the side of the pitch, he was laid out with the physios working on his ankle. Whatever move he’d pulled had cost him something terrible.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, unaware of who she was asking.

“He stopped a goal and landed wrong,” Keeley explained, slipping into the seat beside Y/n’s, “They just brought him off.”

Y/n clutched the railing with a vice-like grip, her eyes never leaving Jamie. She could see he was breathing hard, that his body clenched with every touch the physios made. He’d never been injured on the pitch this bad.

The game, however, couldn’t stop for one player. Ted made the call to play with ten men for the time being while Jamie rested. The Greyhounds held their own, Van Damme in particular blocking nearly every goal. But all Man City needed was one goal to tie things up and take the league title.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n mumbled as if she could will him to rally, “Come on.”

When the medics had done everything they could, Ted kneeled down next to Jamie. They appeared to be in deep conversation, Y/n would have killed to be on the other side, encouraging Jamie back onto the pitch. Whatever Ted was saying had to help. The team didn’t stand a chance if it didn’t.

“Get up, get up, get up,” she whispered, “Jamie, please get up.”

In perfect timing, Jamie extended a hand to Ted, who helped get him to his feet. Y/n held her breath as he bore weight on his ankle and exhaled when he didn’t buckle.

“Yes,” she clapped.

Ted went back to Beard and Roy, and Jamie took his time getting back on the pitch. The Man City fans livened up and began booing their former striker.

With her emotions driving her, Y/n turned to the sections around hers. “Oh, fuck off!”

Jamie shared her sentiment, taking the hate as well as the praise. He egged them on further and encouraged the taunts, jutting his tongue out and beating on his chest.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n cheered. There was no way for him to see or hear her, but she stayed up and screaming as if she were right beside him.

Jamie made it back to the pitch and the match resumed. Van Damme blocked another goal with spectacular skill and got the ball over to Isaac. Isaac kicked it across the field to Jamie, who controlled it masterfully.

Y/n’s breath hung in her chest as he moved across the field. Before her eyes, he came back to his truest self. This was him at his very best. This was Jamie playing for no one but himself and it was beautiful.

Jamie avoided every single City player that tried to steal the ball away. Making it to the net, he sent the ball flying and the whole stadium froze.

It soared past the goalie, a perfect shot.

The Greyhounds pounced on their teammate, hugging and slapping him on the back. The entire crowd went wild, the Richmond fans lost their minds.

“YES!!” Y/n threw her hands in the air, “JAMIE!!”

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming. Y/n and Keeley reached for one another and squealed.

Jamie chose the honorable route and didn’t make a big deal over the goal against his former club. When the boys let go of him, the ref blew his whistle and held up the sub board. Roberts was coming on, Jamie was coming off.

It was the most extraordinary way to leave a match, and Jamie was in a bit of pain. He wasn’t going to argue with the decision. But he hadn’t expected the Man City half of the stadium to change their tune. When their boos morphed to cheers, his eyes glistened with lifelong tears.

It had been a long road to get to a point where Jamie could play for himself. He’d spent all his years working to prove his father wrong, using his hatred as motivation to grow his skills. When he’d exhausted that option, he found himself a man without a country. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Then Y/n had shattered his heart.

He’d woken up with very little motivation to play. Their goodbye had added edge to all his fears. Mixed with the possibility of seeing his father, it was a miracle Jamie could move. But he was a fighter till the end, and even if he was a wreck, he would still give 110%. That was his gift.

As he looked up into the stands, despite everything, he wished Y/n was there to celebrate with him.

Little did he know, Y/n was crying tears of pride on the second level. She watched Jamie walk off the field feeling her heart completely tied to his. He’d proved everyone, even himself, wrong.

The game ended soon after that, with Richmond coming out on top. They had earned their spot in the last game of the season and a chance at the Premier League title. Y/n, Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins fell into an group hug.

“Hey, hey,” Y/n pulled out of Keeley’s arms and locked eyes, “You’re my best friend.”

Keeley’s gaze grew teary. She didn’t know what had changed in Y/n since the night before, but she welcomed it and hugged her tighter.

“And you,” Y/n reached over to Rebecca, “You’re just so fucking amazing.”

Rebecca laughed and wrapped an arm around Y/n, lovingly kissing her hair. Her friend was back from wherever she’d disappeared to.

“Oh,” Y/n grabbed hold of Higgins and grinned, “I love working with you so much.”

Higgins embraced her and shouted over the crowd. “Good to have you back.”

As much as she adored them, Y/n’s eyes fell downwards to the pitch. Jamie was celebrating amidst the boys, but they were about to leave.

Keeley followed her gaze, “Go. They’ll take him to the med room.”

Y/n’s face dropped, realizing that she had made a huge faux pas towards Keeley she hadn’t even considered.

Keeley could read the worry before it crossed Y/n’s lips. “Oi, fuck off,” she laughed, “Go get him.”

She didn’t need to hear anything else. Y/n took off running.

She sprinted through the stadium, weaving in and out of the crowd until she hit the authorized personnel area guarded by security.

“I’m with AFC Richmond,” Y/n breathed, exhausted by the effort expended. She reached into her wallet, “I have proof.”

She held up the employee ID and let the guard examine it.

“Go ahead,” the taller one slid to the side.

Y/n rushed through the glass doors. This was one of the only stadiums she hadn’t been to and she didn’t know her way. She peeked through every door until she found the physio room. Neither the medics nor Jamie were back yet.

Jamie hobbled down the hall, assisted by the physios that had aided him on the field. The adrenaline of the game was starting to wear off and he was looking forward to getting off his foot.

They opened the door to the back room to reveal the last person he expected to see.

Y/n spun around and their eyes met, fear suddenly taking hold of her. In her mad dash to the stadium, overcome with emotion, she hadn’t taken into consideration that Jamie may not have wanted to see her.

“Ma’am,” one of the medics spoke up, “You can’t be back here.”

Jamie was dazed, from the thrill of the match and Y/n’s presence. He took clumsy steps toward her, stuck in the magnetic pull they had on one another.

Y/n cautiously moved forward, terrified of what could come next. Jamie had every right to throw her out and never speak to her again. She almost wanted him to, to make her regret ever turning him away. Deserving seemed like too plain a word. She had earned his indifference.

But in the way Jamie’s eyes traced her face, warm and familiar, shocked and relieved, she knew that wasn’t the case.

They fell into each other’s arms without a single word.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered through her tears, “I’m so sorry.”

Jamie buried his face in her neck, unable to do any more than absorb her. She was here. She was here.

Y/n, however, had so much to say. She urgently guided his head up to face her, tears welling in both their eyes. In that moment, telling the truth never seemed simpler.

“I love you.”

Jamie’s mouth curled upwards, searching her face in shock.

“I love you so much,” Y/n confessed, holding his cheeks, “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

She was cut off by Jamie, pressing his lips fervently into hers.

Neither of them could clearly remember the kisses they’d shared during their one night together. They certainly couldn’t count them. But this, this held all the glory and promise of a first kiss. Months of tension and longing they didn’t know they’d felt were poured out, replaced by sweet relief.

With his brain hazy and high, Jamie backed them up towards the physio table. The first step he took on his ankle made him wince, but he didn’t break from their kiss.

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” Y/n pulled away, smiling breathlessly, “Ankle.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled as he chased after her lips.

Y/n giggled, letting him steal a few more sloppy kisses. She wasn’t in a place to deny him anything.

When Jamie did eventually pull back, he nudged his nose against Y/n’s, breathing her in. “You only back here ‘cause I won it for us?”

“You caught me,” Y/n ran a hand through the back of his hair, “I’d have slipped right back out if you hadn’t.”

Jamie grinned and stroked a hand over her head. Now that he had her as close as he’d craved, he wanted to touch as much as he could. He looked down between them and spotted the familiar blue and red.

“I swear, magic shit happens when you wear this thing,” Jamie rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

Y/n rested her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.

“I’m a fucking genius for buying it,” he beamed, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hair. “I love you so much.”

Knuckles rapped against the door and someone cleared their throat. At some point, the medics had left and returned.

“Mr. Tartt,” one said, “We do need to check your ankle.”

Y/n removed herself from being pinned between the table and Jamie. Jamie dropped his hands to hold hers, unwilling to lose full contact as he took a seat. The physios had a difficult time working with Jamie’s constant movement, trying to pull Y/n in for kiss after kiss.

All things considered, Jamie got off lucky. A brace was wrapped around his ankle and he was advised to use crutches for the next few days. Jamie heard most of their instructions…well, some. He’d more distractedly spare the medics a glance before looking back to Y/n, who memorized all their warnings.

When they left once more, giving Jamie a minute to rest, he tugged Y/n between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/n tucked herself into his chest, holding his head as it dug into the side of hers.

There was so much to say, so much to explain, but neither one could think straight enough for any of it. All they wanted to do was hold each other, reveling in the sweet relief of longing being exchanged for love.

—————————

Back at the hotel, Y/n packed both hers and Jamie’s room while he rested on the Coach. She’d handed his suitcase off to Will before heading to her own car, regretting her decision not to join the team bus considering how the trip was ending.

Jamie got Y/n on the phone the second they pulled out of the hotel. She’d insisted he ride back with the boys, but he was more insistent on not being apart for a second. They spent very little time talking as the phone got passed around, each of the Greyhounds wanting to speak to Y/n after so many weeks with no contact.

Keeley and Rebecca coveted the mobile the longest, badgering her for as many details as Y/n would give them on how her and Jamie had come to be. Y/n revealed precious little information, both because she was still retracing the sequence of events herself and because she didn’t feel like telling the entire team just yet.

Along the way, Kenneth the bus driver and Y/n were weaving between lanes together, switching spots in front on one another. The boys could be heard shouting for Kenneth to drive faster so they could beat her. Y/n smiled and laughed the whole way back to Richmond, lighter than she’d been in years.

They pulled into Nelson Road Stadium late, but full of energy. The Greyhounds poured out of the bus toting champagne bottles, singing and chanting as loud as they could. Man City was their great white whale, and they’d beaten them so spectacularly, they deserved a fucking celebration.

Y/n moved around the physio room while Jamie was in the locker room, setting up a bucket of ice water for his ankle, per the medic’s instructions. She headed down the hall to retrieve him after, running into the boys changed into their dress clothes.

“Looking good,” she complimented.

The stragglers cheered and hung back to hug Y/n, Isaac picking her up and spinning her around. Richard pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey,” Colin grew serious and pointed a finger towards her, “You owe us an explanation for where you’ve been.”

“Yeah, not cool,” Isaac agreed, setting her back down.

“I know, I know,” Y/n chuckled, “You’ll get one. But tonight,” she gestured to the door, “Go make a big fat mess of headlines for me to clean up.”

They cheered rowdily before heading out the door, leaving Y/n beaming. She was home.

She slipped into the locker room, Jamie was seated in his assigned spot, fidgeting. She knocked softly on the door.

“Come on, superstar,” she held out a hand.

Jamie smiled coyly, “Where you takin’ me?”

“I’m making sure Richmond has a fighting chance next weekend,” Y/n replies, helping him to his feet, “Can’t afford to lose you before you beat the shit out of West Ham.”

Jamie wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders, much preferring to use her as his brace than the crutches. They took their time getting down the hall and into the physio room.

Y/n went about getting Jamie situated while he typed something into his phone. Once his foot was submerged in the ice, she stood to her full height and asked, “Whatcha doing?”

“Texting me dad,” he answered plainly.

Y/n blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Jamie clicked his phone shut and set it aside. They had a lot to catch up on. “When I was down, Coach came and talked to me. Told me that I should forgive me dad,” he quickly held up a hand to Y/n’s worried expression, “Not for him. For me. I’ve been in my head all week ‘cause I felt like I couldn’t be me without hatin’ him. Y’know? But between Coach and mum…I don’t know…I found it again. That thing that made me wanna play in the first place. Not for him, not for anyone…just me.”

Y/n smiled proudly. Jamie’s dad was the permanent thorn in his side. Rather than live with the pain, he was learning to grow around it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. It was also deeply ironic that Y/n had made a similar phone call to her parents hours ago. “Just something to tell you later.”

Jamie stroked a hand over her back, “How ‘bout you tell me what made you change your mind?”

Y/n slotted herself between Jamie’s thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. The new intimacy stole any intention of ever having less than one hand on each other.

“Ted came by my room this morning,” she started, “We had a talk and I…I just realized that I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to stay scared of you.”

Jamie’s brows raised, “Scared of me?”

Y/n nodded and brushed a hand through his hair, “You and all those big feelings…they scare the shit out of me. But I got a taste of what life’s like without you,” she sighed, “And I can’t do it.”

Jamie’s fingers moved against Y/n’s back, he watched and listened intently.

“I raced through the fucking streets for you,” Y/n smiled, “I fought a security guard.”

Snorting at the mental image, Jamie slipped an arm under Y/n’s legs and lifted her onto his lap. She yelped and tightened her hold around him.

“We’re gonna break this table,” Y/n laughed, “And people are going to make assumptions.”

“Let ‘em,” Jamie smirked, eyes full of adoration, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she whispered joyfully.

He wanted to hear it a million more times and he wanted to say it an equal amount. He captured her lips once more in a soft kiss, content to stay there as long as the world would let them.

The door to the med room squeaked open, “Oh, fuck.”

Jamie and Y/n broke apart, twisting to see Roy and Keeley stood in the doorway.

“You two were annoying before. You’re gonna be fucking unbearable now,” Roy complained.

“Oh, stop it,” Keeley lightly smacked his hand, “They’ve waited this long.”

“What’re you guys doing?” Jamie asked.

“We thought we’d come and keep you company,” Keeley answered.

Roy kicked the door shut and held up an unopened champagne bottle, “Fucking celebrate!”

Keeley squealed and ran over to hug Y/n and Jamie, the three of them embracing one another. “‘Cause that was fucking amazing, Jamie.”

“Yeah, I was fucking amazing,” Jamie agreed, “You’re right.”

Keeley cackled while Y/n dropped her head to Jamie’s shoulder. “Dear God, I don’t think I can handle this ego.”

“Gotten this far,” Roy grumbled, rolling his eyes at his protege.

“We might need to tag team it,” Y/n suggested, “What do you say, Royo?”

“No,” he pointed between Jamie and Y/n, “You signed up for this, he’s your fucking problem.”

Y/n looked down at Jamie, who was already grinning up at her. He’d been her problem for a long long time.

“I’ll make the best of it,” she said, pecking Jamie’s lips.

Roy popped the champagne and he and Keeley pulled up chairs. He offered his ex the bottle, “You start us off.”

“Mmm, don’t mind if I do,” she took a swig.

“Right,” Jamie turned to Roy, “What the fuck happened, man?”

The four of them laughed as the champagne was passed around.

“Did I look sexy?” Jamie asked, turning to Y/n and handing her the bottle, “Babe?”

“I take it all back,” Y/n joked and took a swig, “I’m not ready for this. We’re back to being friends.”

Jamie laughed and tugged her closer to him.

“Shame you weren’t injured in your fucking head, innit?” Roy grinned.

“Right,” Keeley spoke up, “You gonna tell us how this happened? Spare no details?”

Roy took the bottle from Y/n, “You can spare the details.”

Y/n scoffed, “Oh, there’ll be details spared.”

“She just doesn’t want people to know she stole my virtue,” Jamie cheekily smiled, “I get that right, babe?”

Keeley gasped, Roy grunted.

“I will fucking leave you here to freeze to death,” Y/n threatened, “If you ever tell people that’s what happened.”

The foursome stayed put for a good half hour, their raucous laughter bouncing off the walls. Y/n and Jamie explained an edited version of what happened in London to cause such tension at Georgie and Simon’s house. Keeley, surprisingly, didn’t seem to care that she was watching one of her best friends and her ex-boyfriend tell how they’d fallen in love. She was more thrilled than anyone. Roy was less than enthusiastic, but couldn’t hide his smile as he saw how happy Jamie seemed.

When it was time to leave, Roy helped Jamie in to Y/n’s car. He’d need someone to help him around the house for a day or two and there was no one else he wanted to take care of him. They made the twenty minute drive to Jamie’s house non-eventfully, Jamie pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hand at every red light they hit.

Y/n unloaded their bags first, dropping them in the hall, before coming back to help Jamie out of the car. They managed the driveway and the threshold just fine, and the second Y/n had locked the door behind them, Jamie was on her, crushing their lips and bodies together.

After so many months of falling without notice, neither realized just how much love they had for one another until they could express it fully. Like looking through some all-knowing kaleidoscope, everything leading up to that very moment made crystal clear sense. The jealousy, the adoration, the attachment…it had all been leading to this.

All of Jamie’s hard work, his effort to become his best self had mattered. This was the payoff.

Y/n’s long-standing walls crumbled with each touch, never to be rebuilt. Her fear melted at their feet.

They were free of their pasts, belonging only to their future.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #keeley jones x reader #rebecca welton x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

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precious-little-scoundrel · 8 months

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Dear John || Pt.1

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.

Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.

It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.

Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.

Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?

Dear A.C.O.R.N.

It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.

There. Said it.

Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.

I am quite drunk, you see.

A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.

A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.

I could write anybody from here. I could write you.

And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.

You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.

Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.

You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.

And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.

But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:

You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.

Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.

Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.

Because we do, ma’am. We do.

And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.

If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.

~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan

P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.

Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.

#masters of the air #callum turner #john egan #Major John Egan #Bucky Egan x reader #callum turner x reader #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #hbo war fanfic #Bucky Egan #mine #archive

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kairiscorner · 1 year

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ok but like, he would be a sweet big brother (and a minecraft veteran).

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

he has a soft spot for the little fella — miles 42 x reader

you had to do the laundry and cook some dinner like your parents asked you to, and miles was down to help, but you insisted he could just sit back and watch over your little sibling. he didn't wanna make it known to you he had zero knowledge on babysitting so he just awkwardly sat down next to them. after a few minutes of silence, miles kept looking at your sibling from the corner of his eye, watching them play on their ipad, making sure they wouldn't fall over or do something stupid.

he decided to sit there in silence and look at his phone and wait for you to finish your chores, when all of a sudden, your younger sibling tapped his shoulder. he looked over at them and they moved closer to him, showing him the game on their screen. "oh, minecraft?" he asked the kid, and they nodded. "do you know how to make a fishing rod?" they asked him, their big doe eyes looking up into his own chestnut brown ones.

miles began to teach the kid how to craft the necessary items they needed, but the kid didn't stop there. they showed miles around their minecraft home, their horses and cows, and their dog. miles chuckled because the kid was so imaginative, so creative with their little minecraft home. "ey, invite me over sometime, will ya? i can play with you on your server when i get home." he offered the kid with a smile.

your little sibling beamed up at him. "you would?" they asked him, and he nodded, grinning all the while. "of course." your little sibling was overjoyed, they had never played with anyone else before, not until miles asked to play with them. they reached in to hug miles and thanked him happily for wanting to play with them. "i'll make you a big house! i'll put it by the lakes, oh! and i'll make an army of iron golems to protect you!" they exclaimed as miles ruffled their hair and chuckled lightly. "thanks little fella, i'll take you to the nether and we'll explore there, whaddya say?" he offered as your sibling smiled widely. "i've never gone there i'm so scared of the ghasts... please keep me safe, big bro!" they pleaded miles.

he had never been called that before, 'big bro'–it felt... gratifying, in a way. it felt rewarding, warm, and just overall good. he liked your little sibling, they were so sweet and they liked him too; he was worried your sibling might find him weird or too quiet, but not at all! he smiled and pinched your sibling's cheek playfully, with them giggling at the touch. "oh, you bet i will. those ghasts aren't ready for your big brother miles." he said with an air of confidence as your sibling was building a nether portal in creative mode for miles to play right now.

maybe he was a natural at this, maybe he just got lucky your sibling was so friendly and amicable–or maybe... he just happened to end up being a really good older brother figure for them, even if he had doubts in the beginning.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles morales fluff #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x y/n #miles morales #miles morales imagine #miles morales fluff #miles morales x reader #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n

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hogans-heroes · 6 months

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Drabble prompt:

Combining two prompts of Gale’s childhood and Gale flinching from Bucky because he smells like alcohol.

****

Bucky is several whiskeys and several more stories into the wee hours of the morning when he noticed Gale was curled up in a chair that was wedged in the corner, fast asleep despite the party that showed no signs of slowing down. One leg was pulled up into the seat and his head and arms were pillowed against the wall and chairback in such a way as to appear the corner had been chosen especially for this purpose. Even in sleep he looked far from peaceful, and the whispered fragments Gale had once told of his childhood trickled through Bucky’s mind.

I’m scared of the dark. Or actually, being left alone in the dark

Dad would be out all hours of the night, all nights of the week. Gambling, drinking, getting in fights. Parties till dawn.

I can sleep anywhere, through any noise, it’s a good skill to have.

Bucky’s stomach turned, guilt blooming in his chest, and set his drink down.

“I’ll see you later fellas,” he said to no one in particular, and pushed his way through the ground to Gale’s side. He crouched down and shook the boy’s shoulder.

“Hey, Buck let’s–”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a violent flinch from Gale, shoving himself backwards and covering his head, and Bucky’s heart sank straight to the floor. He snatched his hands back and froze, holding his breath while Gale blinked at him with wide, bleary eyes until they focused and softened in recognition.

“Bucky?”

Bucky swallowed. “Yeah, it’s me. Ready to go?”

Gale nodded, rubbing his eyes like a toddler, and Bucky ached again. He helped Gale stand and ushered him out of the mess hall, grabbing a coffee on the way out. Even if it kept him up all night, it would help get rid of the smell of alcohol and the tense line of Gale’s shoulders as they walked back to their room, Bucky’s mind still racing.

Little Gale spent most nights being jolted out of sleep, shoved and dragged places, struck if he did something wrong or didn’t move fast enough. One time Gale was half asleep when he heard the betting grow louder, his dad running out of valuable things to wager.

‘How ‘bout the kid?’ someone crowed. His dad laughed it off but for a second Gale had gone cold with terror. His dad had traded their car and some of their furniture before, did he really need a kid?

Gale stumbled while stepping over the door frame, but caught himself before Bucky could help, then huffed a laugh and grinned sleepily.

“M’tired,” he drawled, and the guilt in Buck’s stomach grew heavier.

“We won’t stay out so late anymore,” he replied, but Gale shook his head.

“It’s alright, I know you like to party.”

“I like being with you more.” Never going to be the cause of that look again if I have anything to say, his mind screamed, but Gale only smiled up at him as he began to undress. He must have seen something in Bucky’s expression because he paused, frowning, and opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky rasped before he could say anything. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Gale shook his head. “Not your fault,” he said, pulling his pajama shirt over his head. “I was just startled when I woke up, smelled the alcohol, and…I don’t know. Instinct I guess.”

Bucky nodded. It made sense but didn’t do much to make him feel better. He looked down at himself, wondering if he still smelled of whisky.

“M’ gonna take a shower,” he murmured.

Gale frowned again and moved closer, reaching out, but Bucky shook his head and took a step back. Gale’s face fell.

“John.”

Gale gripped Bucky’s arm, pulling him to his chest and wrapping his arms around him, but Bucky still tried to resist. He still smelled of alcohol, and he would die before he caused Gale any more suffering.

“It’s ok and I mean it,” Gale murmured into Bucky’s neck. “I know you’d never hurt me. It’s not you I’m afraid of, ok? You’re the one who makes me feel safe.”

Pain shot through Bucky at the confirmation that Gale was afraid of something, someone, and he could only nod, not trusting his voice. Gale pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Bucky gave in, melting into the touch and wrapping his arms tight around Gale. He didn’t deserve that trust, but by god he’d try to live up to it.

#thanks for the ask!#mota #masters of the air #gale cleven #john egan #buck x bucky #my mota drabbles

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togegiri · 8 months

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✎ᝰ ❛ WHAT IS LOVE? TELL ME JULLIET! ❜ — gojo satoru.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ featuring. teenage gojo satoru x gender neutral reader.

.ೃ࿐ WARNINGS ! gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. fluff(?). angst(if you squint). slow burn(?). maybe some mischaracterization(?). — not proofread. ( 3k words )

content. Being a childhood friend of gojo satoru you're used to his antics and seen his many sides. Although a sudden attack(confession) has caught you off guard and now you are put into a spiral if you love him or not.

note. I quite didn't like the middle part although I did love writing the last part, it made me feel quite like a teen inlove.

i. a sudden attack; a confession!

"(name), I love you, and I'm serious about you," three words that you wouldn't believe that the gojo satoru would utter towards you. Your eyes widened as his blue eyes glared at you with fiery passion. Your mouth went agape as silence followed through the events.

"eh.... EHHHHHHHH?!?" you yelled out in surprise as gojo looked at you seriously. Since when did this happen? YOU, yourself?! getting confessed?!? by your hot and handsome childhood friend?!? hahahaha are you dreaming?! yeah that's it! How did this even happen?! hahahaha... well—

—

YAAAWWWWNNN

A loud yawn escaped your lips, your hand covering your lips as you did your actions as small tears forme the corner of your eyes. You tiredly walked your way to your shoe locker. It was unamusing morning, like everyday, you did your usual routine. Nothing out of the former.

"morning (nickname)" a brunette girl said with a lazy smile as you nodded at her greeting, "morning ieri," she smiled as walked towards her shoe locker which was near yours. Opening the shoe locker your eyes widened for a little, there laid a love letter above your slipper. Seeing your figure not moving to take your slippers, Shoko ieri looked curiously at your locker. "Is that a confession letter?"

Her question brought you back to reality. You sigh at this, "probably a prank or something," the brunette pretty girl sighs at this. "You can't say that maybe the person is genuine," you took the letter slowly opening it. "Yeah, maybe, but I doubt it is,"

Dear (name) (last),

I'm not very good at my words and you know that well, I'm an idiot when it comes to love but I wanna tell you these feelings of mine. if its not too much please meet me at the back of the school. Because I want to tell you this in person not by a letter.

Signed, gojo satoru.

Your brows raised as Shoko looked at you curiously, "what it says?" folding the letter again you put it away as you took your slippers, "gojo wants to see me at the back of the school."

"Are you going?" Shoko asks as she walks alongside you curious on what's your answer. Gojo satoru is nothing but a mere childhood friend of yours so as a good friend you might as well see this prank of his, "yeah sure."

Shoko chuckles, "your tone indicates to me that you seem to be not interested at all, why? it's a love letter from the gojo satoru," to which you chuckled. "Him? maybe he's pranking me again, I mean with this face of mine seriously?" Shoko raised a brow at you, downplaying yourself. Frowning a little, "but you aren't that bad you know, your pretty, who knows maybe he is in love with you,"

You looked at her weirdly at this, "did you know about this?" you asked, squinting your eyes at her. Shoko sweatdropped at this, "I didn't know it but I doubt its a prank,"

"fine then, I'll go there right now and make you see it's a prank,"

shoko smirked, "bet,"

Thus you walked your way to the back of the school ready to prove the brunette girl wrong. Afterall in your eyes gojo satoru is a fella you only see as a cheeky little brat ever since you two were kids. You were sure that this was a prank. I mean him? inlove? to you? talk about fantasy.

"(name), I love you, and I'm serious about you,"

Your whole face feels hot. Your whole body feels like it's high on sugar as you look at gojo who just declared his love for you. "W- wait sato-kun you sure that this isn't ummm a mistake? are you sure this isn't a prank? hahaha... wheres the cameras at?"

The albino haired male eyes widen at this as he pouts, "I'm serious (name)! I'm really serious about you!" he said in a serious manner. Offended a little as you have doubted his love for a mere prank. your heart skipped a beat at this as you feel words stuck on your throat. Your mouth is trying to form words but instead nothing comes out.

"s-... satoru.. can— can I have some few days to tell you my reply?'' Satoru smiles at you. It was so uncharacteristically gentle, too gentle, too warm. Even if you have seen his many smiles, why did this make your heart beat faster? Why did it make your legs feel like jelly? Why did it make your head feel headaches in a good way? He nods his head, "I'll wait for you (name), I won't easily give up you know!"

With that you walked away, running with a face feeling hotter than any summer you have been. With that left satoru alone.

"I won't give up that easily (name),"

ii. tell me juliet, what is love?

"Boo!" a small child said to another one popping randomly on a closet of the small bedroom. "Eek!" the small child said tripping accidentally on the floor. The gojo heir giggles, "I got you!" he pointed with a cocky smirk towards you.

You pouted pointing your little fingers at him, "no I got you, we were playing hide and seek and I saw you that mean I won!" the child whined at this, "eeeh? no! no! I win because uhmm... I got you by suprise! so I win! haha!" he gives out a boisterous laugh making you pout more, “fine but your it now!”

The gojo heir smirked, “this will be an easy win then,”

“eeeeh? what do you mean easy?! I have you know that I played hide and seek and won multiple times with my mom!” you tried to boost pouting glaring at the albino haired child as he looked at you with doubt filled his blue eyes, “I doubt that (last)-san must be just going easy on you!”

“no she isn't!”

“yes she is!”

“then lets settle this with rock paper scissors match, three rounds, whoever has the most wins is telling the truth!” you declared pointing at him standing up glaring, “bring it on weakling!”

Thus the start of the match, you two held out your hands as you waved it up, “rock paper scissors!”

first match, (name): 1 gojo: 0

You giggled happily as you got him, your fingers forming a scissor while his was paper. Gojo pouted, "there's still two more round don't get cocky!" you giggled at this, "yeah, yeah," thus another round commence.

"rock paper scissors!" a point for gojo, which he smirked. You pouted, his fingers were formed as a rock while yours was formed into a scissors.

gojo: 1 (name): 1

You pouted as gojo glared at you, there seems to electricity flying around the aid as the round of the last rock paper scissor commence.

"rock, paper, scissors!"

You won! YOU WON!

gojo: 1 (name): 2

Gojo's hand formed a rock while yours was paper, your eyes widened as it sparkled. Your aura filled with happiness as you jumped, "yippee! I won! I won!" the gojo heir only looked at you with a pout and glare. Clearly salty at his loss. “Hmp! you won because I went easy!”

“bleeeh you're a loser! I won fair and square!”

—

Gojo satoru, lost to a rock paper scissor match was one of your fondest memories. Why? because you can boast about it and make him be annoyed about the many times he has lost to a rock paper and scissors match, to you. The so-called strongest getting lost, to you? What a way to boast about it.

You sipped in your strawberry milk. In a trance as Shoko looked at you weirdly. Sweat dropping comically at your daze appearance, “(name)? (naaaameeee)?” she waved her hand on your eyes as she sighs seeing your daydreaming state.

“(name)!” she yells your name making you flinch and got out of your daze like state, “shoko what should I do?!” you said out of panic grabbing her shoulder starting to sweat bullets, “I don't know what should I do?! what- what if our friendship is broken off after this?? I can't let that happen! I don't even know if I love him like that shokooooo!” you whined, shaking her making the brunette pretty girl dizzy.

“CALM DOWN!! YOU'RE MAKING ME PANIC!” she yelled at you as you immediately stopped at this, putting your hand at your hair. Messing it up as you feel migraines in this situation. Do you love him? of course you do, your friends since childhood, it was natural for you to love your friends but do you love him in that way? that you don't know, you don't know.

“how did he fall in love with me even…” you mumbled unconsciously making shoko raise a brow at this, “so you're telling me you haven't noticed his heart eyes?” you tilt your head in confusion as your (color) eyes look at her in confusion. “What do you mean?” she couldn't help but laugh at this.

You pouted, feeling confused, “hey! what do you mean by that!” Shoko laughs and laughs, amused at these events. “Well, for example he would always clingy and kind off be overprotective to you whenever we're on missions together,”

“isn't that just normal for him?”

“no, remember one of our missions?”

—

“They say the curse always targets young women at night, so I could volunteer as bait for it,” you say nonchalantly, making the taller male besides you whine, “no! no way!” he hugs you close making you irritated, “satoru its a mission,”

“Then let's be bait together!” you sigh at his childish demeanor, “satoru..” you grumble his name as he didnt let go of you pouting and glaring at you. With a defeated look, you sigh, “fine, but you gotta look like a girl too,”

“That's a-okay!”

Suguru and Shoko looked at the dumb buffoon and each other as they rolled their eyes at this.

—

“He was just being him?” you say in a questioning tone as shoko looked at you with a defeated look, “your a dumbass,”

“HEY! that's rude!” you pouted glaring at her as shoko shrugged her shoulders. “I still don't know how he fell in love with me..” you look at her helplessly as she waved her hand, “don't ask me that I'm not gojo,”

“Shokoooo…” you whined her name as she sighs, patting your head, “you can do it,” with that simple encouragement you sigh, closing your eyes. What should you do? you sigh again.

iii. Romeo, oh Romeo, tell me what love is?

If gojo satoru were to ask how he fell in love with you, he would go on and on about it. How you would scold him whenever he does something reckless, how you would pat his head gently holding him close, how you would smile at him with adoration. There was many but there was one thing he could never forget when you two met when you two but a mere child.

A small gojo heir walked around their house with no purpose at all. The tatami floor creaked as he looked around though stopped with his tracks as he saw a little child. Looking like his age crying, sniffling, he was pretty sure that person doesn't belong to this household nor were they a servant. “Oi, what are you doing here?”

He asked rather rudely as he looked at them with a stoic look. The crying child looked at them sniffling, “c- can you help me please… I lost my daddy,” you hiccuped as he awkwardly looked at you. Turning into a chibi as he tries to talk to you as he was not used to being a child his age. “oh umm… w- wanna play ball with me?” He asks, maybe distractions can make them stop crying he thought.

“okay..” you sniffled as he took your hand gently leading you to their garden. Taking a ball that was placed in the corner he looked at you, “uhmm I'm gonna pass you to it okay,” you nodded as he awkwardly throw the ball to you. Catching it you gently threw it to me making you smile a bit. Seeing you stop crying the heir sighs in relief as he passes the ball with a small smile.

The play went on for hours. The game differs everytime you two deemed it as boring. The albino child laughing as you lose, feeling angry as you win at some game, the two of you being petty to each other. It ranges from ball throwing to tag, hide and seek, hopscotch, and many more.

“(name)! there you are!” a voice came stopping you mid way to your play as you looked at the voice knowing who the owner of the voice is. “Daddy!” you said excitedly running to him with a smile. The albino child looked at this with a bitter feeling seeing you go away while playing with him.

“Daddy! look! I made a friend! His name is satoru!” you said with pride leading him to satoru was standing making him flinch, his eyes widening. A friend? He has never had a friend before, solely because his clan is too strict on him. They deemed it as a distraction. This made him feel something warm in his heart, something hot and warm like a pancake. Fluffy and filled with sweetness of the overfilling syrup.

“Daddy, can I play with him again? please? I promise to be good,” the gojo heir was out of his trance as he heard your words. Looking at you with widened eyes as you plead to your father to meet him again, to play with him. “S- sweetie can you ask satoru—” before the older male said anything gojo cut him off, “I don't mind, (name) lets play again!”

He says uncharacteristically enthusiastically as he smiles at you making you grin, “see daddy! he doesn't mind! please please!” the older (last) seeing this smile, “I'll see what I can do, for now lets go home the meeting is done,”

“awwwwe…” you whined, feeling sadden. “Satoru, wait for me, okay?! We'll play again, bye bye!” with that you and your father walked away as he waved goodbye feeling happiness overfilling him.

You were the only one who made him felt normal. Someone who's a human being and a child. Being there for him through thick and thin, it was inevitable for him to fall in love with you.

—

“You confessed, didn't you?”

“yep,”

Geto suguru let out a loud laugh, “don't tell me you cracked after them not getting your hints,” the gojo heir pout rolling his eyes at this. “Shut up, it was getting irritating you know,” he sighs as geto looks at him laughing. “You would do it if your love hints are getting misunderstood too…”

“that's true I'd be irritated and just straight up confess,” geto nodded his head seemingly done with his laugh. The gojo heir pouts looking at the sky, “I'm seriously serious about them… I don't want them to smile at anyone other than me, it irritates me.”

The raven haired male looked at his best friend with a smile, “I'm sure you got your feelings across, now you just have to wait,” he nodded at this remembering their embarrassed face, making satoru smile. “Yeah I'm not planning on giving up even if I'm rejected after all.”

iv. Like a fairytale.

On the night of jujutsu high tech. There you sat on the roof, feeling the cold breeze as the moon lit your vision. You loved being alone on ”You know it's kind of cold up here,” knowing whose voice is this you chuckled slightly. “Yeah, kind of off is, I don't mind though.”

Gojo sat down beside you admiring the view as he slowly put his head down to your shoulder. It was as if nothing had happened to you two as you let his head rest on you. Your heart beats as the silence continues on, “ne satoru…”

Satoru looked at you, his blue eyes staring at your own (color) eyes. “In truth… I don't know,” the teenage male hummed as he slowly took your hand intertwining both of your fingers to his own. Feeling his rather bigger hands to yours, “I don't know satoru… Do I love you? Do I not love you? feelings are so irritating to understand, I don't know,”

Slowly he kissed the back of your hand catching you off guard. Your eyes widened at this as you felt his lips touch your hand as he looked at you with a warm smile. It's soft and warm, just what are you feeling right now. You feel your face hot as words stuck in your throat, “that doesn't mean yes, but that also doesn't mean no, so there's a chance for you to love me the way I do, so you don't mind me drowning you with my love… right?”

He tilted his head asking the question making you pout, “that's unfair, satoru,” he chuckles at this, “sorry, but it's your fault for being too adorable,” you pouted more at this as you squeezed his hand a little. Sighing at the situation you have gotten yourself into.

“I'll make sure your heart only beats for me (name),” he declared, kissing your hand again as feel your face getting hotter by the minute. The moonlight hitting his face made him look more handsome than he ever is. As his eyes looked at you adoringly. For in his mind seeing you all shy and flustered makes you look like something out of a fairytale. Someone fairer than snow white that the evil queen would be mad and try to kill you instead.

“O- okay…” you nodded your head, stuttering out a reply. Love is complicated, you thought as satoru let out a happy giggle. Although it was worth it to learn. You just hope whatever you may feel in the end may not hurt him or yourself.

#˃ᴗ˂ . . . signed by; ren #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satory x gender neutral reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x reader fluff #satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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cosmicoatlatte · 1 month

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John 'Bucky' Egan - first base

word count: 3.0k

summary: getting abandoned by your friend during a night out might not be the worst thing...

warnings: mentions of drinking, misogyny/sexism surrounding dating

authors note: this is my first work for mota and even though it took me a lot longer than i expected i really hope you'll like it

By the time you reached the dance hall your little kitten heels had taken on a reddish brown hue from the dusty walkway. The evening was filled with music and chatter, the scent of tobacco hanging in the air.

“Come on.” Your friend Dorothy tugged on your linked arms, urging you to hurry up. Going dancing on base had been her idea, to celebrate your promotion —the youngest head of secretaries in any of the departments— but you suspected an ulterior motive on her end. It was no secret that she was sweet on the soldiers.

“I’m coming, Dotty. No need to rush.”

Several pairs of eyes watched as you approached the door, making you just a little nervous. There was a reason you didn’t go out as often as the other girls in the department.

You tried to look around to avoid any strange looks but the first thing you saw was a couple in the shadow of the building, a soldier holding his sweetheart against the building as they kissed, far too passionately this out in the open. Your eyes immediately snapped back towards the entrance door while you tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks. Maybe going out hadn’t been such a good idea.

A fresh faced soldier opened the door for the pair of you with a wide grin that quickly slipped as Dotty winked at him. His eyes followed her until you were further inside and you leaned over to talk to her over the noise. “Must you flirt with every uniform? That boy didn’t look a day over eighteen.”

She just laughed in response, dragging you along the edge of the dance floor, expertly maneuvering through intertwined couples and groups of men standing around. “Relax, would you. That flirting got us a table so shush.”

Half an hour later you found yourself abandoned at the table, Dotty having gone to get a drink twenty minutes ago. The music wasn’t bad and you nodded along to one or two songs but without company your anxiousness turned into boredom. It took another song for Dot to turn back up but instead of a drink she brought a befuddled looking blond.

“I found you a friend.” She declared, pushing him towards the table before either of you could protest. “Major Cleven doesn’t dance and his sweetheart is coming next weekend so you don’t have to worry about him talking you up. I’m gonna go dance with James.” She pointed at a random soldier and then disappeared again.

The major sat, seemingly weirdly unaffected by your friend’s wild antics, and held a hand out to introduce himself, a gesture you returned.

“I’m sorry about Dotty. She insisted on going out to celebrate a promotion I received at work but it seems she’s already forgotten all about it.” You resigned yourself to sitting at the table until she got bored and found a fella she could sweet talk into dropping you home on their way to her place.

“Congratulations.” Major Cleven said. “And don’t worry about your friend. Nothing I can’t handle.”

The two of you talked for a while and you found yourself enjoying his company. He talked about his girl, Marge, with so much love and if there was one thing that you loved more than anything it was Love. Romance. Devotion.

When you recommended a few spots on base and off base that Major Cleven could take her while she came down to visit, he listened intently. In return he shared some of his group’s adventures from training. It was in the middle of a story about another soldier losing his boots through a bet when a loud voice interrupted him.

“Buck! I thought I’d lost you.” A pair of hands came down on either side of the major’s shoulders, giving him a shake. When your eyes followed them up you saw a dark haired man, a very handsome dark haired man, standing close behind the major. Looking down at you. “Who’s your friend?”

At your confused look Major Cleven just smiled. “He’s my Dotty.” He said, quietly, before speaking louder to introduce you. By the time he was done the dark haired man had rounded the table and sat next to his friend.

“John Egan, but my friends call me Bucky.”

There was a sparkle in his eyes you couldn’t look away from. It was almost distracting enough that you forwent protocol and referred to him by his offered nickname but your brain kicked in at the last minute, recognizing his name. “Major Egan.” You stated, watching his smile fall into confusion. “It’s good to put a face to the name. Colonel Smith talks about you plenty, sir.” You explained.

That charming smile returned as he leaned back in his chair. “You one of his girls then? What’s Smitty saying ‘bout me?”

“Head girl, sir. Just promoted. So forgive me for not breaking confidentiality.”

He, Major Egan, laughed loudly at your response, a wonderful sound. Beautiful view too, with his head thrown back in glee, exposing the long line of his neck. “Might be for the best. That way I can pretend he likes me.”

It was your turn to laugh, well aware of his reputation among your higher ups. While you weren’t looking at the major directly it didn’t escape your attention that he was watching you.

Even though you rarely gave into your friend's demands to go out, you knew what it was like to have soldiers watch you. The whole thing wasn’t something you enjoyed. Yet somehow Major Egan managed to do so in a way you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it at all.

It was easy to let his eyes linger even if you knew that you shouldn’t mingle with the brass. It wouldn’t be proper at all, especially with your new position. And the man before you had a reputation on top of that. But all that seemed so unimportant as he stood up and held out his hand.

“Do you dance, doll?” His tone was playful and you felt your cheeks heat again at the nickname.

“I shouldn’t, Major Egan.”

Luckily he seemed to catch on to your word choice, straightening up. “So formal.” He teased. “If you’re denying me the pleasure of a dance I’ll pay a quick visit to the barkeep. Any request? I’ll buy…. for your promotion.”

“Oh I don’t—” You stopped yourself, “well one drink won’t hurt. I don’t know what they have available though. Surprise me, Major? Just nothing too strong.”

He flitted off with a wink and it was only then that you remembered Major Cleven, who had sat between the two of you silently for the entire exchange and was now looking at you with a knowing look in his eyes. Your own gaze dropped to your lap, embarrassed that the Major had seen your little flirtation.

“He’s a good man.” The blond major’s voice made your head snap back up. “Listens when you tell him no and he keeps his mouth shut if you tell him yes. Bucky’s intense but there is not a single soul I trust as much as him.”

He said it as if he already knew what you were thinking about. Weren’t thinking about. Shouldn’t think about.

“You’re a good friend Major Cleven but I don’t know what you’re trying to suggest. Major Egan simply offered to buy me a drink to celebrate. What other intentions he may have are completely irrelevant at this moment.”

He gave you a fond smile, like he already knew you didn't mean a word you said, but he didn’t call you on it which you were grateful for.

When the handsome Major returned it was with flourish, balancing three drinks in his large hands while he danced along to the music, making his way back to your table until he let himself fall into the seat next to you, not his friend. He wordlessly put a bottle on the table in front of Major Cleven before handing you a flute filled with a light bubbly drink.

You picked it up gently, careful not to spill the liquid inside. There was no ignoring the heavy presence of the major’s arm slung over the back of your chair but you didn’t allow yourself to lean back against it. Yet.

“To promotions.” He raised his glass —dark amber coming precariously close to the rim as he did— clinking it against yours before raising it towards Major Cleven who returned the gesture.

“To promotions.” You agreed. The drink he had gotten you tasted nice, a little sour in a good way, certainly better than the alcohol you had tried before. But most importantly it gave you the excuse you wanted.

You watched as Major Egan’s glass got emptier and emptier, the men joking around while you bid your time until there was nothing more that anchored you to the table.

Major Egan sat his empty glass down soundlessly and stood up, turning towards you and once again offering his hand, “Fancy a twirl now, doll?”

This time you accepted, letting him lead you to an open spot on the dance floor. His hand felt rough against yours but he held it gently, carefully, as he led and you followed. The band faded into the background as the Major guided you along the dancefloor. You could feel his other hand —large and warm— through the fabric of your dress where it rested respectfully on your waist, not an inch too high or too low. Steadying you.

You weren’t the most experienced dancer but it was clear to you that Major Egan knew how to move.

“Not all that proper now, are we?” He joked after you stepped closer to him, the side of his mouth quirked up into a mischievous grin as he looked down into your eyes.

“It is entirely improper Major, but I did have that one drink before you talked me into dancing with you so I think I’ll be forgiven should anybody question things.”

His eyes crinkled as he laughed, loud but not loud enough to draw even more attention to the two of you. “I talked you into dancing?”

The tone in his voice had you biting your lip as you nodded up at him.

“Alright, alright. Could I talk you into calling me Bucky then as well?”

“I don’t know Major Egan.” He spun you to the music, interrupting your response, before he pulled you close again. Closer than before. “I thought only your friends called you Bucky?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

The music changed but you barely acknowledged it, too lost in the feeling of his breath on your skin. Nothing more than a whisper. “You want to be friends, Major Egan?”

He gave you a wide smile but didn’t answer your question. The only indication that he had heard you was a subtle shift of his hand. You didn’t comment on it though, only letting yourself be led around the floor as the band continued to play.

“How are you getting home?” He finally broke the silence during a slower song. The evening was far from over but it seemed like the major had finally gotten impatient.

You drew back a bit to look around, finding Dot not on the dancefloor but at a different table, perched on a soldier’s lap. “A friend gave me a ride but she seems rather occupied at the moment.”

It didn’t bother you too badly, part of you had even expected it. You would just walk to the nearest pay phone and call your father to come pick you up.

“A friend would make sure you got home safely, would they not?”

“What are you saying, Major?”

He looked over your shoulder for a moment, seemingly looking for somebody, before looking back down into your eyes. “I can get a car for us in ten minutes?”

There were many things you should have considered before agreeing. Optics for one. There weren’t many ways one could interpret you rushing off with a soldier. The consequences come Monday morning if your superiors found out. Even just the major’s intentions if you really were to go with him. But truth be told you had little care for those things at the moment.

When the two of you had parted ways it was in different directions, the charming major off into the masses to talk somebody, anybody, into handing over their keys, you towards the exit.

The sun must have just set, heat from the day still heavy in the air as you stepped outside. It felt easier than you’d thought —admitting to yourself that more time had passed than you suspected, hours flying by while you were wrapped in the arms of a man that had been a stranger at the beginning of the evening. Leaning back against the wall at the side of the building you didn’t have to wait long before the doors opened again and Major Egan walked outside with determined strides.

He stopped, looked around before spotting you, and walked closer. Closer.

Major Egan moved to cup your face, not slow but not fast either, giving you enough time to turn away or speak up. You didn’t. You wouldn’t. But even though your eagerness seemed so obvious to you it mustn't to him because he took his time leaning in, giving you an out until the last second.

When your lips finally connected it was gentle, barely more than a whisper before you got sick of waiting and pushed forward, rising on your tiptoes just enough to kiss him back. Properly.

It took him a second to respond and for a moment, brief and utterly terrifying, you thought you might've come on too strong. This, everything from the flirting to the kissing, had been a new experience and oh how silly of you to believe you've done well on the first try.

But then Major Egan? Bucky? John! kissed you back, pressing his lips against yours hard enough to bruise, turning your insides hot and bubbly. Those long fingers that had been holding your face so sweetly just moments before stroked over your skin, finding your cheekbone, your jawline, teasing where your lips connected. You gasped and he took the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue pleading for permission to enter, warm and wet against your upper lip.

You granted his request —How could you not?— letting him press you further into the wall behind you as he kissed you. One of his large hands shielded your head from the brick he crowded you against, the other splayed wide on your waist like it had on the dancefloor. It was only when you had to pull away to breathe that you realized you’d ended up in the same situation you had judged the young lovers for at the beginning of the evening. At least the settling dusk provided you with the resemblance of a cover. The heat in your cheeks only intensified when you looked at the man in front of you. The —admittedly gorgeous— lipstick your friend had convinced you to wear now graced the Major’s face, going beyond the confines of his own lips and even tinting the hairs of his mustache. A sound —half embarrassed squeal, half laughter— left your lips before you could stop yourself.

Major Egan, John, smiled at you, oblivious of his own state. “You got a little something.” His thumb brushed under your bottom lip, undoubtedly cleaning whatever was left of your makeup. It was a sweet gesture you couldn’t repay since it would take more than the swipe of a finger to fix him up properly.

“You too.” Was all you could stutter out, rummaging in your purse for your compact and your handkerchief. It was sad to see the white embroidered cloth fall victim to red pigment but at least the major looked presentable, if a little flushed.

“Ready to go?” He held out his arm, chivalrous, as if you hadn't been devouring each other moments earlier.

You allowed yourself to be escorted towards his borrowed car, hand resting in the crook of his elbow as he led the way.

It was only when he opened the passenger door for you that you paused. You had been acting very unrestricted the entire evening but doubt had started to set in. You were a modern woman, or at least you wanted to be. But while you admired women like Dotty that owned their life to the fullest you weren’t all that ready.

“Major Egan?”

“So formal. I thought we were past that.” He said in a teasing tone but when he saw your face his expression changed and he listened seriously.

“I know I’ve been behaving awfully bold tonight sir, but I just wanted to make sure that there are no… expectations about the rest of the evening.”

He nodded, a soft smile on his face, before he spoke, tone so gentle you trusted him without hesitation. “Get in the car, doll.”

Major Egan closed the door behind you carefully before rounding the car and sitting in the driver's seat. He didn’t start the car though, instead he turned to look at you.

“I’m not going to lie and say I wouldn’t like to kiss you again, doll. Because I do. I really do. But I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We can take the long way or I can drive you straight home. Whatever you want, just say the word.” He turned to sit properly and started the motor. It was only when the car had already started rolling that he said more. “No matter what you choose, if you permit it I’d like to make sure you get home safely.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, as you followed the road through the base. Even with the fading light he looked gorgeous. A strong side profile you wanted to spend more time looking at. The way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

It didn’t take all that long to make a decision but you still waited until the car pulled through the gates and off base before you answered him.

“Take the long way, John.”

#masters of the air imagine #mota imagine #john egan x reader #john egan imagine #masters of the air x reader #mota x reader #john 'bucky' egan #masters of the air #mota #callum turner imagine

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thyandrawrites · 9 months

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On (soccer) partnerships, commitment, and why Nagi and Reo are the poster children for always doing the opposite of what the series is about

Alright fellas, this started out as something completely different, so forgive me in advance if it feels disjointed, but.

Have you wondered why in chapter 18 of epinagi, Nagi’s inner monologue complains that his “heat is being stolen away”? Or why even in the main series Nagi can’t seem to win a single match even after he and Reo get on better terms? Well, if you have, this post might be a fun read for you. If you already have answers, I might sound like I’m stating the obvious because none of this is particularly subtle or particularly new. But since both series have hit the Nagi Flop Era, I thought it’d be fun to take a deep dive into his character and Reo’s, the themes of the story, and how their codependence contradicts the entire premise of blue lock, intentionally so. I’m going to go over why stagnancy is the entire point of their partnership, and why the fact that they keep failing and failing is instrumental to the type of story Kaneshiro is trying to tell.

So, without further ado. Get comfortable, this will get long.

So, as I anticipated, Nagi and Reo are very very often written to be at odds with the themes the story functions around, and I think their regression is another instance of that. In a manga that often underlines the importance of making soccer your “reason to exist” if you’re serious about it, Nagi and Reo are the only duo repeatedly singled out as more committed to each other than to the sport itself. This, the story tells us, being the root of why they so often fail.

The premise of blue lock is that you can’t become the best in the world until you dedicate your whole self to the sport. Only that egoism will push you in the right state of mind to go above and beyond for a victory.

Time and time again, we see the most outstanding goals happen in what gets called the hottest place in the field. This “center of heat” comes up a couple of times, and it’s usually represented by a person. According to Ego’s philosophy, the idea is that the world’s best striker possesses a soccer-specific kind of charisma. When he enters a state of flow and pulls off a world-class play, he’ll have a ripple effect on the players around him, pushing them to reach flow too and elevating the level of the game itself. We saw this happening in the U-20 match. Ego’s not really aiming to create a national team, or to foster the talent of the new generation. He only cares about nurturing one person into that role, betting it all on the fact that once that striker awakens from its “rough diamond” shell, they will fire up their teammates & lead Japan to victory.

Because of this, ideally, everyone aiming at becoming the world’s best striker should strive to be that center of heat. To an extent, even Nagi does. His motivation is spotty at best, but whenever a game heats up, Nagi’s ego gets tickled awake the same as everyone else’s. This is not limited to the times Isagi challenged him, by the way. He reacted to Rin’s skill in much the same way.

Problem is, neither Nagi nor Reo seem to know how to become that center of heat by themselves. They only react to someone else raising the stakes of a match. Even when Nagi feels fired up, his lack of creativity & playmaking sense fail him against any opponent who is more tactical than him. In a similar way, even when Reo starts going after goals alone in the wake of his split from Nagi, he still can't see his vision of a goal through to the end, or gets outsmarted and beaten to the punch by other playmakers.

The only times they really get their head into a game is when they're working as a duo. Compare for example Nagi losing grasp of his heated frenzy when he splits from Reo to how quickly he reaches flow when they go back to playing together.

So why is this an issue? If Nagi's limit is his over-reliance on instinct, and Reo's is the lack of self-centeredness that's key to scoring, then shouldn't teaming up solve the problem and make them a powerhouse? How come, even after somewhat resolving their communication issues, their soccer still is no match to that of the blue lock elites?

Well, before I can begin to unpack the answer to that… A big theme driving the soccer partnerships is that you won’t go very far if you rely too much on the other person to carry your weight. This is the reality Bachira faces in the 4v4, when he “disappears”, swallowed by everyone else’s growth. This is also the lesson Rin learns from Sae when his brother returns from Spain a completely different, overwhelmingly superior player. The series tells us that relying on others to pick up your slack makes you less sharp and prone to noticing your weaknesses because someone else will cover your back.

For a practical example of this, Rin's style when he played with Sae mirrors Nagi's around Reo: they both relied on instinct, trusting that the ball would always come if they just positioned themselves in the right spot to score. And for a time, it did. But that's not the level the rest of the world plays at. Nagi and Reo's winning streak ends when they face an unpredictable, explosive talent like Isagi, who doesn't operate according to any predictable patterns. Similarly, Rin's playstyle gets wrecked in a matter of minutes by a Sae who got to experience the "real" soccer played overseas.

The point, then, is that Nagi and Reo never really assimilated any of Ego's lessons, instead resisting his philosophy to a fault by choosing each other. From the start, they’re not very good at being apart, given how their strength draws from being a team. Both of them are noted to only ever increase the level of their plays when they are working together, but not as much when alone.

Nagi’s the brawn to complete Reo’s brain, and their dynamic too often falls back on that codependent partnership. In fact, they default to their roles even when they're not playing with each other. During the second selection, Nagi replaces Reo with Isagi, continuing to rely on someone else's creativity and game sense, while he just follows. And in the 3v3, we similarly see Reo fall back on playing the midfielder to Kunigami and Chigiri's forward, offering up the perfect passes to make them shine and get all the scoring options they want.

But what about when they're together? Aren't they strong then? Didn't Nagi score a crazy super goal thanks to Reo's assist? What do we make of that?

You'll probably remember how Ego got a sense of foreboding from Nagi's five shot revolver. Of course, you might say, Ego never liked their soccer! He was cussing them out for playing together since day one! Of course he's a hater!

Well… Yeah. But Ego's also an authorial insert, and he's there to tell us the themes of the story, and comment on the characters growth. Or in this case, their stagnancy. Nagi's returning to his reliance on Reo's brains and Reo's willingness to entertain it are both framed as a bad thing because it specifically contradicts the idea the series is based on: that a real striker is an egotistic, self-reliant existence that doesn't bend to other people's rules, but instead dictates their own, and makes everyone follow or fall through in their wake.

There are several players this definition already applies to. Rin, Barou, Shidou and of course Isagi all come to mind. Isagi's growth in particular has been rotating around this concept. Isagi not only believes in his (meta) vision, but he also possesses the sharp-wit and the cutthroat resourcefulness to see it through no matter the odds, at times even to the detriment of his teammates. Nagi and Reo, on the other hand, can pull off some incredible plays, but it’s never enough to land them a solid victory, especially in the NEL arc. Usually, in a story, when a character fails enough times to become stagnant, the author is making some kind of point. In this case, as the narrative itself points out through Isagi first and Agi later, it’s the concept that relying on their teamwork is actually making Nagi and Reo’s soccer worse.

Sure, Nagi might've caught Isagi off guard with those feints once and managed to score, but that's still him relying on instinct over brains. If you dissect that match, you'll see that aside from the fake volley itself, which is the product of a non-replicable state of flow, there isn't a single move Nagi and Reo made during that game that Isagi didn't see through, expect, and match their pace at. This is by design, of course. It's meant to indicate that while Isagi grew, learning from stronger players and assimilating new elements in his arsenal of weapons, Nagi and Reo are still stuck playing the same way they did in the second selection. With Reo as the heart, brain and anchor directing Nagi around, and Nagi as the leg kicking the ball into the net following a momentary burst of inspiration.

The fact that this is intended as a setback in their path towards a more egotistical soccer is made more obvious by the timing. It's not a coincidence that Nagi went back to Reo the moment he got frustrated by how hard creativity and tactics come to him when he's on his own, without a "handler" like Reo (and later Isagi) taking care of all the hard parts.

Nor is it a coincidence that Reo was faced with the choice to go back to helping Nagi out right when Reo was beginning to go after his own goals, without help. Nagi comes up to him and shakes him up literally one (1) panel after Reo's dramatic, resolute decision to prove himself alone.

Had they gotten anywhere in their quest to polish their individual skills during the split, maybe their partnership could’ve aspired to become more like Isagi and Bachira’s, eventually. However, they weren’t apart long enough to master their respective strengths, or to consolidate their egos as something separate from their status as partners. Thus, when they resume playing together, they instead hold each other back.

So is their ego the problem here, then? Ever since that five shot fake volley, we see Nagi’s dissolve, leaving him unmotivated again, grasping for answers he can't seem to reach no matter how many people he asks. And surely, its disappearance is significant, much like how Reo's ever changing definition of his own ego is also significant. But I think the real issue is something else. Egos can take many forms, and Nagi and Reo aren't the only players whose so-called “protagonism” isn’t rooting for their own success. Most recently, Hiori gained an ego too, and it was framed as a good thing even though it doesn’t strictly lead to him becoming the best striker in the world.

My idea, then, is that it's less that they lack the "correct" ego, but more like they lack the correct attitude towards soccer to begin with. From the start, they're both motivated by something that is not inherent to soccer itself, but only tangential to it: the World Cup—or rather, their promise to each other that they'd win the World Cup. Because of this, I think, they center their football more around their partnership & their shared dream than any genuine passion for the sport, unlike pretty much the rest of the cast (now including Hiori. Yay!). In other words, the problem is that neither of their egos is really about themselves, yet. So it fails them because it's not conductive to "protagonism", but centered around an "us" that drags them off course.

Let's go with Nagi first. On the surface, "commitment" and "Nagi Seishirou" don't seem to go well in the same sentence. Nagi doesn't do anything excessively. He's content to coast through life doing nothing more than he strictly needs to survive. As long as he can put in minimal effort and still have time to play video games and nap, he's happy. When his teachers asked him to fill a form about his future, he couldn't think of anything he wanted to do. He's the embodiment of living one day at a time cause it's too much work to figure out his life past that. Yet, he genuinely commits to soccer.

Or does he?

Sure, he agrees to not only playing the sport, but to dedicating several years of his life to becoming pro. That’s dedication, for sure. But is it really for soccer? I would argue that no, Nagi’s commitment is to his partnership with Reo, not to the sport itself. And okay, you can’t have one without the other, but the distinction is important to understand Nagi’s (and Reo’s as well) resistance to character growth.

So, Nagi had no passion for the sport until he saw the level some other elite blue lockers played at, and got curious and frustrated enough to put real effort in it himself. But until then, soccer was simply something he tagged along in. In fact, he was pretty unenthused with the idea of playing until Reo promised him an easy life and made it so Nagi wouldn’t have to work hard for it. Nagi signs up for blue lock with the expectation that he’ll be the one to flunk out first, without being too torn up about it. Clearly, it’s not a career as a professional soccer player he has an attachment to. I’d argue it’s more the fact that he feels comfortable around Reo, and he is invested in what only their agreement can bring forth. That is, a life more exciting than any nap or game.

The excitement part is the focus here. At their core, both Nagi and Reo’s characters are motivated by the wish to escape boredom. So much so, the epinagi movie made that its tagline. Thematically, dissatisfaction with boredom is the catalyst for every choice they make. While everyone else is motivated by an ambition that is inherent—that draws from their wish to excel—Nagi and Reo are more prize-oriented, lacking the conviction that they’re special on their own. It follows that the challenge of bringing home the World Cup represents just that—for Nagi, it’s the thrill of a final boss with the prospect of an easy life afterwards, and for Reo, something hard to obtain that he’d conquer by his own merit. In both cases, soccer for soccer’s sake is not the end goal. It’s just a tool to achieve what they really want.

Neither of them ever really dreams of becoming the world’s best striker, and neither swears their entire life to soccer, either. Not even Reo ever brought up a career in the sport, past winning for Japan for the first time. This is why I say their commitment is more to each other than to football, and also why they struggle to advance in the program.

Let's think about it. The Cup was never really Nagi's dream; beating Isagi was. Yet, when their partnership all but crumbles down, Nagi keeps making choices with the Cup in mind. The boy who never fought for anything becomes determined to honor his promise to Reo even if he's not certain that Reo still cares about it. By his own admission, he chooses Isagi and then England because both of those things bring him closer to their original goal, and Nagi's resolve for that has never waned, even if for a time he thought Reo's had.

It's like he clings to inertia to avoid thinking what the sport means to him. Despite how Reo seemingly turned his back on him, Nagi doesn't want to give up on what made them partners. To him, soccer never stopped being something they shared (to a fault). That's why, I think, when they make up, a big part of their reconciliation is going back to sharing a dream. This time, with Reo helping Nagi out instead of the other way around. And I'm saying that's a flaw because his subconscious need to seek answers and help from others made it so that whenever he's alone, he doesn't have a very defined idea of how to move forward. But again, a striker should be self-reliant, and have the capacity to evolve on his own even as the match is unfolding. But Nagi didn't even believe in himself until Reo convinced him he was special, so how can Nagi have the right mindset to seize his protagonism?

Similarly, Reo’s drive is also not based on anything inherent. From the start, he doesn’t believe he was “chosen by football” the way geniuses like Nagi and Rin are. Because of this, he never bought into Ego’s striker philosophy, nor has he been a very fitting candidate for it yet. Much like with Nagi, his set up as someone willing to step away from the spotlight positions him in defiance of the story’s themes. While Nagi has the talent and instinct to become a powerhouse but lacks conviction, Reo is a born leader outside of the facility, but within blue lock’s rules he can only make it to the U-20 bench, and so far no further.

The point here is that Reo’s readiness to be Nagi’s crutch is lowkey framed as a voluntary burden he places on his potential growth, a fact that the narrative condemns.

Reo was born for success—bred and raised with every luxury to make sure he'd step into his father's shoes and be one of Japan's wealthiest and most capable businessmen. And Reo takes obvious pride in his social status, too. We can see it in the flaunted wealth of his spending and daily habits, as well as in the way he interacts with his peers. He funds his Hakuho soccer team and easily seizes captainship. Blue lock teams don't have captains, but he still rises to a similar position even within an environment designated to promote violent competitiveness and a wolf-eat-wolf mentality. Heck, he asks Nagi to call him "boss" and demands Zantetsu recognizes him as "super elite". Pride in being the best and excelling at everything he does is written into Reo's code.

Yet, the moment Ego suggests that there is no such thing as cooperation within his training program, Reo is quick to bargain—take him, he’s the real star. I will tag along and ensure his success.

Ever the businessman, right? Problem is, renouncing his pride for someone else is the opposite of the attitude he should have. Same as Nagi, Reo puts a lot of weight on their shared dream. Too much weight. Somewhere along the line, “I want the World Cup” became “If Nagi’s at my side, we will win the World Cup”. Being partners until the end became so entangled with Reo’s dream that he can no longer separate the two. When Nagi leaves, Reo’s image of that finishing line crumbles. Iirc, he doesn’t even mention the World Cup as his goal anymore until Nagi comes back to him. When asked to put into words what he wants to achieve with his soccer, Reo tells Chris that he wants to go after goals alone. It’s only later, when Chris questions what happened to his solitary resolve in the wake of Reo’s restored friendship with Nagi, that Reo is like “well, my actual dream was the World Cup anyway, so this still counts.”

That is both true and a deflection from the truth. Yes, Reo’s real goal has always been the cup… but he also subconsciously sees it as something inseparable from his promise with Nagi. He can’t have one without the other. Or he thinks he can’t, is the point. Partly because of that, and partly because Nagi is his best friend, Reo is very resistant to Agi’s criticism. The story’s trying to nudge Reo towards personal growth, telling him that the only way out of this impasse is to quit what isn’t working. However, because Reo’s meant to resist the themes of the story, the choices he makes are rarely the right ones. That is, the choices a real egoist would make in his place.

This isn’t anything recent, by the way. For this same reason, for example, winning Nagi's trust back becomes his main motivation to survive past the loss in the 3v3. By his own admission, Reo is the only guy in blue lock who not only has a safety net outside the program, but a very comfortable life to fall back on if a career in football doesn't work out for him. But when push comes to shove and he faces the chance of dropping out, Reo resolves to improve by thinking of Nagi and their shared dream.

Let’s compare that to Barou, who was similarly broken down and had to crawl his way up again. Barou goes the egoist way and finds his resolve within himself, vowing to double down on his king shtick and devour Isagi back. To Barou, the simple idea of passing a ball is akin to defeat. When he envisions a future of normalcy, with football as something to only watch on tv, Barou’s hunger to reign the field like a king rears its head again and motivates him forward. Reo, instead, never reaches a point where he embraces the series’ trademark selfishness. In fact, he does the opposite. When he vows to step up his game, he doesn’t do it because he thinks he’s the top dog like everyone else. The root of his despair is not a wounded pride, or a desire to prove himself further, to “devour” others back and rise to the top, but just the loss of his fix against boredom. Remember, chasing an exciting life is both Reo and Nagi’s main motivator so far. To put it simply, Reo doesn’t want what awaits him outside of blue lock.

That’s the seed of his actual ego, by the way. Not the Cup, not making Nagi the best, but rather obtaining something by his own merit. But because of his reliance on Nagi (and Nagi’s on his), Reo hasn’t yet reached the point where he can realize this and use the knowledge to better his plays. In that sense, their partnership holds both of them back from exploring their inner motivations and individual strengths further.

And I said that this is instrumental to the kind of story Kaneshiro’s telling because it’s meant to show us all the ways a striker can’t be. This is not a manga where the power of friendship will get you anywhere. No matter how stubborn you get about having it your way, obstacles will materialize in your path and set you back the longer you refuse to play for your own sake.

Yet, Reo doesn't want to advance in the program for the sake of becoming the world's best striker. He never did. He wants to move forward because Nagi left first, and he wants to meet him on the other side (quote, "beyond our dreams"). In other words, to return to being friends, even if he fears that Nagi might've replaced him with Isagi and "forgotten" about him. It doesn't have anything to do with soccer per se. It's more like Reo sees soccer as his chosen tool for self-determination. It was the trial to prove to himself, as well as his father, that his "worth" wasn't handed down to him by circumstance, but was inherent. He could achieve something worthwhile thanks to hard work, and not just reap the benefits of his last name.

And the thing is…If he were literally anyone else, at this point he would’ve already channeled that into individualism, but because it’s Reo, he doesn’t. Despite possessing that seed of egoism, Reo doesn’t water it. His ambition doesn't make him an egoist in the way Ego Jinpachi intended, but instead becomes something that's meant to be carried by two people, contradicting the story.

Reo’s resolve is then always a bit off from falling in line with the rules of blue lock. Even when he gets something right, he does it for the wrong reasons, stumping his development. For example, his resolve after the 3v3 is both a step forward and two steps back. The positive is that he "engraved despair". He faced his shortcomings, realized his powerlessness, and took measures to improve to avoid being left in the dust again. The negative part is that being on his own should've given Reo a taste for real egoism, a hunger for self-reliance, but it does the opposite instead: it makes him long for what he had, and put all his willpower into restoring that partnership however he can. If the issue was that Nagi's improved enough to no longer be satisfied by the level of Reo's plays, then Reo's solution is to make his soccer exciting again in Nagi's eyes to, quote, "be enough to satisfy" him.

Because of that, however, the moment he has Nagi's trust back, their partnership back, Reo pretty much stops trying to improve. His chameleon style is still a go, but it becomes yet another tool to assist in Nagi's goals. It didn't start that way.

Initially, it was what Reo intended to use to score alone, remember?

Yet, even after coming up with a style that's solely his, that focuses on his strengths and brings no value to Nagi's, Reo keeps committing to stagnancy. In different but similar ways, both do.

Teamwork and passive codependence are the two things Ego asked all the blue lockers to leave behind, but Nagi and Reo make it their job to bring typical shonen manga dynamics into a series that sets out to break from the norm. And that’s the point!

In this sense, Reo is more at fault than Nagi, who instead realizes that sometimes being apart makes you better, and doesn’t mean the end of your friendship. If I were to pin down Nagi’s role in the narrative, then I’d say he’s meant to show that talent doesn’t equal success without discipline, self-awareness and determination. So the world’s best striker can’t just be good. He needs to know what he’s doing, and when and where he can do it to make the most of every play, since nothing happens by chance on the field. Whereas Reo’s role is that of showing us the mindset of a real striker. Because Reo enters the program without accepting or even understanding Ego’s rules, Reo’s faulty beliefs get challenged at every turn, with the author basically spoonfeeding us the correct path to soccer stardom.

So in the end, since they struggle so much to even understand what they should be doing, their fumbling around makes it so the story goes more into depth about its own themes. Their job is to be incompetent, basically, but in a way that doesn’t rule out eventual growth. They just need to come to terms with the rules of the competition they entered first. So far, they’ve been content to just live in a bubble and coast through the increased stakes of the selection. If they’re serious about their dreams, however (and we’ve established that they are!), they will have to make a choice between what’s comfortable and what’s necessary. Cause, to quote Ego from epinagi chapter 2, in blue lock there’s no place for self-conscious babies who don’t want to ever get their feelings hurt.

So what will they choose? Each other again, or the only way they can make it past blue lock and thus actually chase their dreams?

#Blue lock #Blue lock spoilers #Nagi seishirou #Mikage reo #Seishiro nagi #Reo mikage #Bllk thoughts #And here it is! Sorry for the wall of text. I might go back on this and add more pictures later but rn I'm toast #I need to get this out or else I'll add 4k more lol #I am very normal about those two yes #Nagireo #Reonagi

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scoobyrooster1 · 1 month

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She's Mine [Intro]

Qimir x (she/her)!reader

Summary: Events take place after episode 8 of the acolyte. You are Qimirs new acolyte after agreeing to train under him. But, first you both must escape to the outer rim and outrun the Jedi who now hunts you. A precarious situation arises when you suddenly owe a debt to the local gunrunner... but it could be just the opportunity you've been hoping for. Warnings: None so far Notes: I plan for this to be a slow burn story between you and Qimir. Future heist plot on canto bight. Haven't officially decided on a permanent title yet. Probably needs more edits lol.

youtube

^ Nice ambience for the intro

Master List

She's Mine [Intro] She's Mine [Part 1] She's Mine [Part 2]

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You and Qimir had been on the road for months now. Vernestra couldn’t put out an official warrant on you both—not without raising questions she didn’t want to answer. Instead, she relied on something more insidious: whispers, rumors, just enough to keep you glancing over your shoulder but never enough to reveal her true intentions.

So now you found yourself sitting in a mossy dive bar waiting on a pilot that could be your last chance to escape republic space. He was 20 minutes late and it had been one hell of a day. Your patience was wearing thin.

You felt someone sit down at the stool next to you. Not giving them any notice ----until they spoke.

"Oi. Ale for me and whatever the lady wants."

You stifled a grunt, eyes remaining fixed on your drink.

"Not interested."

The bartender, unfazed, slid a glass down the bar landing directly into the strangers hand with ease. He took a full three chugs before wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

Exhaling he exclaimed. "Not interested?... Handsome fella like me? Sure you are."

"Its been a rough day." You grimaced, still not sparing him a glance.

"Well its about to get a little more difficult."

You could feel him shift beside you. Instinctively, you unholstered your blaster and aimed it directly at his crotch. You were now face to face with Ian Skynyr. Notorious playboy and smuggler.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." You whispered.

He only froze, eyes widening on where your blaster now rested. His shoulders slightly relaxed almost as impressed as he was shocked.

"Easy"

"Like I said its been a long day and I'm not especially forgiving on those. So get lost."

"One of my men is in a bacta tank thanks to you."

You recalled what had transpired a mere few hours ago.

Some thug saw you walking through the bazar. Cloaked, your figure appeared small and unthreatening. He assumed you'd be an easy target. He assumed wrong.

Qimir had found you standing over the aqualish male, his breathing labored, knocked unconscious with far more hidden injuries.

All Qimir had said to you was, lets go. No emotion shown on his striking face.

"If he wanted an easy pocket to pick he shouldn't have cornered me."

"Listen sunshine, you put me in a bit of a bind here."

"Not my problem. I know your line of work and I'm not looking for that kind of heat."

Neither you or Qimir could take that right now.

The stranger didn’t back off. He leaned in, just enough for you to catch the scent of engine grease and blaster residue.

"Oh I think it is, don't think I don't know exactly why you're sitting here."

You suppressed a laugh. Of course.

"So I can assume you intercepted my pilot."

"Theres now a debt to pay. Im here to collect."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

"Right... Only a certain type of woman wears with an LL-30 blaster pistol strapped to her thigh."

"And it only takes a special kind of idiot to steal from her." You retracted the gun back to under your cloak.

He cracked a smile.

"The job I have lined up that you so gracefully mucked might actually be of some interest to you."

"I highly doubt that."

"You and your friend need to get to the outer rim no? Something about avoiding the order? I can provide that for you both so long as you pay whats now owed."

You couldn’t hide the shock on your face.

So the pilot had a loose mouth. But you knew Qimir would later curse you for your own.

"I don't owe you anything."

"Deny that little fact all you want. What you can't deny is that the republic has been slowly tightening its grip on hyperspace routes. Good luck finding another freighter that can slip past their patrols unnoticed."

You frowned.

He wasn’t wrong. Vernestra wouldn't risk the upper hand she now had on the two of you. It was easy enough to establish stricter checkpoints in the name of peace and safety. Finding another ship capable of making it past their checkpoints undetected and unquestioned would be next to impossible.

You sat there. Silent. Weighing the options in front of you. Even though you had your finger on the trigger and every reason to pull it, you squirmed underneath the predicament he now faced you with.

He watched the gears turning behind your eyes, carefully calculating your next move.

"Well." he sighed "If you're that confident, I guess its easy enough for me to find another replacement."

He slowly stood, nudging the now empty glass towards the edge of the bar.

"Good luck out running the damned Jedi."

What were your chances of another opportunity like this? As damned as the circumstances were.

Before he could step out of the cantina you turned.

"Wait."

Ian inclined his head to you, smile spreading across his stupid face.

Qimir was going to kill you.

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#the acolyte #qimir #qimir the acolyte #qimir x reader #renew the acolyte #star wars #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fangirl #star wars fandom #the stranger #star wars qimir #Youtube

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dianawinchester03 · 4 months

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Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time of Dying

Series Masterlist

(Authors Note: TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️. Reader has a minor panic attack, before anyone gets offended. Though it's not anybody's business I will put it out there that I personally have suffered with trauma induced panic attacks. So I am not writing out of my ass, this is all based off of MY experience and not anyone else's. If it's not the same for you, you can skip over it. Thank you🫶)

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Third Person POV

The possessed truck driver that crashed into the Impala and Harley purposely, steps out of his truck, black eyed and unharmed. He strolls slowly to the crash site in-front of him. Y/N sprawled out on the road, unconscious. Just meters away from the drivers side door of the Impala. All three Winchester men also unconscious in the demolished car.

Sam begins to come to a bit when he hears the footsteps. He tightens his grip on the Colt as the demon approaches. The demon then rips the drivers side door off with all his might, "Get.Back..." Sam warns the demon in a deadly tone, glaring at his through his bloodied eyes. "...or I'll kill you. I swear to God" He aims the gun at the demon.

The demon smirks, "You won't. You're saving that bullet for someone else" The demon calls him out of his bluff. Sam breathes heavily, cocking the gun at the demon. A 'no bullshit' look on his face. "You wanna bet?" Sam seethes through his teeth, his mouth coated in his own blood.

The demon just smiles widely and then starts screaming, barfing up a black smoke, exactly the way John did when Yellow Eyes possessed him. The truck driver falls to his knees, no longer possessed. Sam sighs heavily, gripping his sprained arm as the driver comes too. A horrified looks on his face at the sight infront of him.

"Oh my God. Did I do this?" The driver gasps terrified. "Dad?" Sam groans, calling out for his unconscious father. "Dean?!" Sam calls out for his unconscious older brother. Sam's eyes flicker outside to Y/N sprawled on the ground, her body limp. "Y/N/N!?" Sam screams painfully.

Hours later, paramedics finally showed up. The sun is now shining as the helicopter above scans the area. Dean is being strapped to a gurney along with Sam and John. They rush him into the ambulance as Y/N begins to come to. Her eyes flutter open, her face twice as bruised as it was.

Y/N's POV

"Y/n/n..." My fathers weak voice croaks, he weakly pulls the machete from his gut, the blood escaping from his wounds through and through.

"I love you, baby" He says weakly. "I love you too, daddy" I sob, staring into my fathers eyes. "It's okay....you can go now" I cry, holding my father in my arms as he takes his last breath. The light that was once in his eyes, now going out.

"No...no....NOOOOOOO!!!!" I scream painfully.

I'm woken up to the sound of shouting. "Significant passengers soace intrusion. Unresponsive. BP. 180, over 50. Heart rate—". My eyes shoot open to the sight of the sun blinding me, a helicopter over head. "NOOOOO!!!" I scream loudly, trying to toss and fight off the paramedics holding me down on the gurney. "Miss! Ma'am! Please! We're trying to help you!" The female paramedic holds me down, putting a clear oxygen mask over my nose.

"D-d-dean...Sammy..." I croak weakly. "What's your name sweetie?" The male paramedic asks me. "Wheres...my....Dean??" I breath heavily. Groaning from the sticking pain in my left side, I'm pretty sure my ribs are broken. I look around, my eyes searching for the boys. "Sammy....where's...Sammy?" I sob. "Ma'am, we're doing everything we can. But we need to focus on you right now." The male paramedic says gently.

"Tell me if they're okay!! Tell me my fellas are okay!!" I plead with them. "You have to stay still!" The female paramedic tries to calm me down. "Are they even alive?!" I yell as I sob. "You dislocated your knee in the crash. We're gonna need to pop it back in. So take a deep breath okay sweetie?" The female paramedic guides me gently as the man holds my knee in place.

"Yes ma'am" I nod tearfully. She gives the man a nod. "On three. One...two..." She didn't make it to three but that's when a sickening snap in my knee sounded as he popped it back into place. "AHHHHH!!" I screamed painfully at the bone being placed back into my knee socket. I clutched my knee in pain sobbing.

Deans POV

I jump awake in a hospital bed. A white T-Shirt on with some hospital pants. Surrounded by goddamned EKG machines and all that technical nerd stuff Sammy and y/n/n know all about. My eyes scan the empty room, groaning slightly, I throw my legs off the bed and I begin to make my way to the door.

"Sam? Y/N?" I call out for them but the hallway is empty. "Dad? Anybody?!" My voice fills the empty corridor. I make my way to the large staircase leading downstairs to the hospital. "Shiloh County, Nurses' Station. How can I transfer your call?" A woman by the receptionist desk answers a phone.

"Excuse me" I call out for her, groaning as I walk down the stairs and towards the reception desk. "Hi. I uh- I think I was in a car accident. With my dad, my brother and my gir-...my friend. On her bike. I just need to find them." I clear my throat, explaining to the receptionist. But she doesn't take me on.

"Hello?" I call out to her, confused as to why she didn't answer me. Is she not hearing me? I snap my fingers in-front of her face and wave my hands but it's like I'm invisible. She then walks away. I rush down the halls looking for anyone, that's when I stumbled on a room. My room. What I saw shocked me to my core.

It was Y/N sat next to my hospital bed, her face buried in her hands sobbing. In the bed was me, hooked up to a life support machine, tubes sticking out of my mouth. I stepped closer, horrified at the state I was in. The state Y/N was in. "Y/N? Princess? Are you okay? Please tell me you can hear me with your ESP thing" I knelt next to her, pleading for her to hear something.

She raised her head a bit, almost as if she heard something. Her swollen red eyes directed at me. Her face glassed over with concern and confusion. She only had a sports bra on with a hospital pants, a cast around her right knee, a stitched up gash on her forehead similar to mine and a white wrapping around her midsection.

Blood was seeping through the gauze a little on her left side ribs. Her hair was in a mess and she looked as though she hadn't slept all night. But somehow, she still managed to look effortlessly beautiful. My heart stopped at the sight, shock taking over my body. I wasn't sure if she saw me but I'm praying she does.

Third Person POV

The second Dean stepped into that room, Y/N felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. She wasn't sure what it was, all she had on her mind was the man she loved, was next to her strapped to life support. Fighting for his life. She raised her head a bit when she felt his presence but she didn't pay mind to it.

Sam emerges through the room door, his heart sinked when he saw his brother on that hospital bed. "Sammy" Dean says relieved. "You and y/n/n look good...considering..." Dean trails off realizing Sam can't hear him either. "Please tell me you guys can hear me" Dean pleads. "Oh, no" Sam gasps, tears forming in his eyes at his brothers state.

"How's dad? Is he okay?" Dean asks worried. His heart beats out of his chest. He turns to Y/N, "Come on, sweetheart. You're the psychic. Give me some ghost whispering or something" Dean pleads with her. Turning to his brother. "Come on dude, talk to me" He pleads with his brother.

Something in the back of Y/N's mind tells her to ask Sam something, "How's John?" She asks the younger Winchester in a worried tone. He turns to her, tears in his eyes. "He's asleep. Resting" Sam informs her. "Did the doctor say anything about Dean?" Sam asks her tearfully. She shakes her head, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I haven't seen his doctor yet. I'm supposed to be in my room. I found him here" Y/N admits to Sam who sighs heavily. A doctor enters the room, "Your father's awake" The doctor tells them. They all turn to him, "You can go see him, if you like" He adds. "Oh thank god" Dean and Y/N mutter relieved. But of course, she can't hear him.

"Doc, what about my bo-...my friend. What about my friend?" Y/N asks worried, clearing her throat she bites on her nails nervously out of habit. Dean notices this, "Quit biting your nails" He mutters rolling his eyes, her eyes flicking in his direction. But she doesn't hear him, but she removes her finger from her mouth hesitantly. Dean is taken back when she looks in his direction. Though she can't see him, he's sure she can feel his presence.

That's good enough for him. At least he's got his foot in the door. Hope rises in his chest. Sam looks at the doctor with a pained expression, hoping for a good answer. "Well, he sustained serious injury. Blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema" The doctor explains.

"Well, what can we do?" Sam asks him. "Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up" The doctor sighs. "If....he wakes up" He adds as they look down at Dean nodding. Their gazes snap back to him, grief stricken. "If?" Y/N gasps, pushing herself up from the chair. "What are you talking about, doc. I'm waking up!" Dean insists but they can't hear him.

"I have to be honest, most people with his degree of injury wouldn't have survives this long. He's fighting very hard" The doctor assured them honestly. "But you kids need to have realistic expectations" The doctor puts it bluntly. "Come on, guys. Go find some Hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me! I'll be fine" Dean presses angrily but they can't hear him. Sam and Y/N are distraught, they felt as if their whole world was ending.

First her dad, and now Dean. Y/N's chest begin to heave furiously and he palms began to clam up. The doctor walks out as Dean calls out for them. Y/N felt her body getting weaker, her knee felt as though it was engulfed in flames. The thought of Dean not making it, she couldn't bare it. Tears brimmed at her eyes. She began to wobble a bit and Dean noticed. Rushing to help her but his hand went right through her.

"Sam? Y/N! Come on!" Dean pleads. Y/N grips onto Sam to stop herself from falling, he snaps out of his daze. "Crap, sorry. Hey I got you" I tells her gently, holding her up by her waist. Her breathing quickens further and Sam noticed this, Dean knew exactly what this meant. She was having a panic attack. "Hold her, Sam! Tell her to take deep breaths!" Dean urges his brother but Sam can't hear him.

"Y/N, babe....hey hey hey. It's okay, it'll be okay. I'm here" Dean coos gently, trying talk to her. "Sam..." Y/N breathes out, clutching onto Sam's shoulder, her sweaty palms grip tightening around his shoulder blade. Concern and panic etched on his face. Not knowing what to do. "Y/n/n, hey look at me" Her gaze snaps to Sam's eyes when he says this, her chest heaving with anxious.

"Take deep breaths. One....two...three..." She nods shakily, listening to the sound of her best friends voice. Wishing it was Dean's voice. Meanwhile, he's looking on, terrified her heart might give out. He's helpless, he can't hold her, kiss her on her forehead and tell her it's gonna be alright. As y/n takes the deep breaths, she calms down subsequently.

"Thanks Sammy" She says gratefully, breathing heavily. "You're welcome, y/n/n" He gives her a small tight genuine smile. He takes her hand and wraps it around her shoulder, helping her walk out of the room to go and check on John.

________________________________

"Alright. Here. Give them my insurance" John hands Sam his wallet with his insurance card. "You covered, sweetheart?" John asks Y/N. "Yes sir" She responds, holding up her fake insurance card. Sam looks down at the name and smiles a bit, "Elroy McGillicuddy?" Sam snickers, pulling a chair for Y/N and then one for him to sit next to John's bed.

John smirks a bit, "And his two loving sons" He smiles. "I'm Mildred Tulworts. Loving daughter of Harold Tulworts" Y/N shows Sam her fake insurance card, who chuckles a bit as John shakes his head smiling. "Your father always knew how to come up with the weirdest aliases" John chuckles. Y/N's smile drops a bit, tears in her eyes.

"Every Alias he had was a joke" Y/N chuckles lightly. "So...What else did the doctor say about Dean?" John asks concerned. "Nothing" They respond in unison, with a shrug. "Look, if the doctors won't do anything, then we'll have to. Thats all" Y/N says calmly. "What could we possibly do?" Sam asks her cocking his eyebrow. "I don't know, we'll go find some...hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him and..." Y/N says sighing, unconsciously repeating Deans words earlier.

"We'll look for someone" John assured them. "Yeah" They both nod sighing. "But, kids....I don't know if we'll find anyone" John says honestly. "Why not?" Sam asks confused. "We found that faith healer before for y/n" He adds. "Alright, that was one in a million" John says. "So what, then we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" Sam scoffs irritated.

Y/N looks between the father and son nervously. "No, I said we'd look. Alright? I'll check under every stone" John says firmly. Sam and Y/N sigh nodding. "Where's the Colt?" John asks. Y/N's eye twitches angrily at this as Sam looks at his father in disbelief. "Your son is dying and you're worried about about the Colt?" She spits angrily, narrowing her eyes at John.

Sam scoffs in disgust that his father is so nonchalant about Dean fighting for his life but the only thing he truly sounded concerned about is the Colt. "We are hunting this demon and maybe it's hunting us too. That gun may be our only card" John says defensively. They shake their heads, "It's in the trunk. They dragged the car and y/n's bike off I-83." Sam answers quietly.

"Alright, you gotta clean out that trunk and whatever is is y/n's bike before some junk man sees what's inside" John instructs them. "I already called Bobby. He's like an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala and Harley with his truck back to his place" Y/N informs him. "Alright. Sam, you go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt and bring it back to me. And watch out for hospital security" He instructs Sam.

"Y/N, you stay here. You could barely walk so take it easy and rest" He says gently to her. "I think we got it covered" Sam says in a cold tone. Sam helps Y/N up, they both begin to walk out the room, "Hey" John calls out for them. They stop in their tracks and turn to John. "Here. I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick them up for me" John hands Sam a piece of paper.

Y/N peers to take a look at this list, "Acacia? Oil or Abramelin? What's this stuff for?" She questions curiously. "Protection" John simply answers. They sigh and begin to walk out again but Sam stops. "Hey, Dad. You know the demon? He said he had plans for me and y/n. And for children like us. You have any idea what he meant?" Sam asks him, hoping for an answer.

John shakes his head, "No, I don't" He responds but y/n narrows her eyes suspiciously at him. Something tells her he knows more than he's letting on. "Okay, thanks" She simple says, both her and Sam make their way out of the room. Y/N limping as Sam helps her. Without their knowledge, Dean was at the corner of the room listening the whole time.

His arms crossed over his chest as he stares at his father with a suspicious look, "Well, you sure know something" Dean mutters knowingly. The guilty expression on his fathers face was easily read by him, he knew the man like the back of his palm. John was hiding something, and Dean was gonna have to be the one to figure it out.

________________________________

Now at I-83, Sam strolls over to Bobby, his mouth agape when he takes a look at the Impala and Harley. "Oh man" He gasps. "Dean and Y/N are gonna be pissed" He states as Bobby shakes his head at the completely demolished Impala and Harley. "Y/N might blow a gasket, that was the only thing she had left from her dad" Sam sighs sadly.

"Look, Sam, it's- These just ain't worth a tow" Bobby says honestly, walking over to the trunk. He opens it up as Sam goes over to Y/N's bike, stopping down. He pulls off the seat top to empty out the compartment under the seat. "I say we empty the trunk and sell the rest for scrap. Y/N could figure out what to do with her bike when she gets back" Bobby suggests.

Sam shakes his head, going over to the flattened backseat to take out his crushed computer. "No. Dean would kill me if we did that. And y/n would bleach my hair in my sleep" Sam scoffs. "When they get better, they're gonna wanna fix it" He adds, placing the computer on the roof.

"There's nothing to fix. Frames a pretzel. The engines ruined. There's barely any parts worth salvaging" Bobby points out to the Impala. Then turning to the Harley, "The engine is basically a pancake. The only thing here that's worth keeping is the helmet" Bobby points out to the Harley. "Listen to me, Bobby. If there's only one working part, thats enough. We're not just gonna give up on..." Sam trails off, taking a deep breath.

Bobby gives him a sympathetic look before nodding, "Okay. You got it" He responds. Sam sighs and takes the list John gave him out, "Here. Uh...dad asked if you could get this stuff for him" He hands Bobby the list over the top of the Impala. "What John want with this?" Bobby asks, cocking an eyebrow after he scans the list.

"Protection from the demon" Sam shrugs. Bobby has a troubled look on his face and Sam notices this, "What?" He asks. "Oh, nothing. It's just-" Bobby tries to brush it off but Sam cuts him off, "Bobby. What's going on?" Sam asks him firmly. The guilt on Bobby's face was obvious.

________________________________

Meanwhile, Y/N is sat by Deans bedside, her hand resting gently on his. She strokes the back of his palm with her thumb, her lip quivering. She takes a deep breath, trying not to cry anymore. Dean is in the corner of the room, his heart yearning just to feel her touch. Guilt seeping through, all he could do was watch from a distance. A pained expression on his face.

She sighs before starting, "This is gonna sound crazy....but then again. According to you, I am" She weakly chuckles, a small smile appears on Deans face at her comment. "You sure are" He mutters chuckling. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I think you can. I've been feeling that 'ESP thing' you're always on about. And I want to believe you're here, listening" She says tearfully as Dean listens on.

"Me and Sam. We miss you. And we need you. You're the glue to our families, we'd be nowhere without you....you're one of the strongest people I know, Dean. And I know you can get past this. Screw what the docs are saying, they don't know the things we do" She sobs, bringing his hand to her lips. "They don't know you like I do" She whispers against his knuckles.

Deans heart breaks at her words. "Y/N...." He sighs sadly as she kisses his knuckles. She sniffles slightly, "I miss you, goddamnit. I miss your idiotic jokes. Your horrible yet funny movie references. I miss your cheeky smile when you see pie. I miss your overly sexual corny jokes" She chuckles lightly, Dean shaking his head chuckling along with her. A blush rising to both their faces. "I miss flirting with you back and forth and you getting all flustered." She blushes.

His eyes widen, "I was hoping you didn't notice that" Dean mutters embarrassed, walking over to her. He takes a seat on the bed in front of her. "I'm gonna do something. And you're probably gonna make fun of me. So screw you in advance" She mutters jokingly, bringing her other hand to clasp around his palm in a praying gesture. She closes her eyes slowly, taking a deep breath.

"Son of a bitch...you're gotta be kidding me" Deans agape when he realizes what she's gonna do. "Hey, God...whoever is listening. I don't do this as much as I should. I don't even know how the fuck it start this-oh shit I just cursed. GOSH, sorry. Ugh, I'm terrible at this" She curses herself for swearing while praying. Deans hand is over his mouth trying not to burst into hysterics as she struggles to pray.

"I know I'm doing this in a somewhat selfish situation. But I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this for Dean. Because he of all people deserve to live. Now he's not prefect, I mean-" She scoffs a bit, "Dean is definitely not perfect" Y/N chuckles shaking her head as Dean rolls his eyes. "But he's got a bigger heart than he likes to admit. He's done nothing but protect me and Sam our whole lives. But no one really protected him, he doesn't deserve this. So I'm begging, I'd get down on my knees if I could" She pleads, tears threatening to fall again.

Dean is speechless that Y/N would go to the extent to pray for him. Despite everything that they've seen in their lives, she was never much of a believer and neither was he. "But he's family. And if you really are an all knowing type of God. You'll know, he deserves to walk out of here without a scratch. Please. We need him.....I need him" Y/N prays tearfully. "Amen" She finishes, opening her eyes that are red and burning. Still swollen from that demon attack.

Her gaze rests on Dean laying in the bed. While she was praying, Dean was sobbing the entire time, unbeknownst to her. "You can make fun of me for that all you want, when you get better" She whispers to Dean on the bed, smiling, she brings her hand slowly to the crown on his head. Caressing his short dark blonde hair gently.

Tears flowing down his face, he kneels in-front of her chair.

Then resting his hand gently on her cheek, "Princess..." Dean whispers. Y/N jumps slightly, a cold yet soothing warmth filling her body. She could've sworn she heard him call out to her. Dean is surprised when she felt him touch her this time. Her gaze falls to the exact spot Dean is knelt down at. Her eyes wide and his eyes wide. She still can't see him but she could feel the drift of a touch. "Charming?" She whispers shocked.

________________________________

John is sat at the foot of Deans hospital bed, his eyes filled with sorrow as he looks at his elder son, fighting for his life, hooked up to a bunch of machines. Y/N was asleep on the couch across from the bed, her right sprained knee propped on the couch, with her left leg dangling off the edge. A crutch she stole from the medical closet was leaned up against the wall.

Deans spirit enters the room, "Come on, Dad. You gotta help me" Dean pleads but John can't hear him. "I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there" He stresses, his eyes trained on John's face filled with despair. "I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you gonna do anything?" Dean painfully scoffs.

"Aren't you even gonna say anything?!" He snaps angrily, John's eyes still resting on his son on the bed. Dean shakes his head angrily, "I've done everything you and f/n have every asked me. Everything! I've given everything I've ever had! And you're just gonna sit there and you're gonna watch me die?!" Dean yells painfully. "What the hell kind of father are you?!" He snaps.

A rumbling sound outside catches Deans attention, cutting him monologue short. "What is that?" He mutters, turning around. He steps out of the room, only for something that looked like a spirit to come flying past him. He jumps back, turning to John and a sleeping Y/N on the couch. "I take it you two didn't see that" He mutters, chasing after the spirit.

He speed walks down the hall, looking for the spirit he just say. He felt a gust of air behind him along with a whooshing sound. Turning around to see the ghostly transport figure turn the corner. He rushes after it, stumbling upon a room to see a woman gasping and choking on the ground. "Help. Help. Help!" She pleads, convulsing.

"Hey! I need some help in here!" Dean calls for help but no one could hear him. "I..can't...breathe..." The woman chokes for air. Dean rushes over to her, stooping next to her. He tries to give her CPR but his hand goes right through her. Her gasping stops suddenly, Deans eyes widen in horror at this.

________________________________

Later, Sam came back from Bobby's and told y/n what the list was actually about. Both pissed beyond shit. Y/N limps into John's room on the crutch, Sam infront of her, his bag draped over his shoulder with the items. A stoic expression on both their faces. Dean enters the room frantically behind them. "Sammy, y/n/n. Tell me you two can freaking hear me. There's something in the hospital! Now you gotta bring me back and we all gotta hunt this thing" Dean tries to warn them but they can't hear him.

Sam just rests his bag down on the chair, his back turnt to John, his eyes trained outside the window. "Sam! Y/N!" Dean calls out for them. Since entering the room. Sam and Y/N haven't said a word. Y/N leans on the crutches at the foot of John's bed, glaring at him. "You two are quiet" John states. Y/N's eye twitches angrily, her jaw clenched.

As Sam turns to his father, a aggravated look on his face. He tosses the bag onto of the bed by Johns foot. "You think we wouldn't find out?" He snaps. "What are you talking about?" John feigns confusion. "Cut the crap, John." Y/N snaps back. "That stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon. You use it to summon one" She states, fuming with rage. John's face drops, caught redhanded.

"You're planning on bringing the demon here. Having some stupid, macho showdown!" Sam yells angrily. "I have a plan, kids" John says calmly. "That's exactly our point. Dean is dying and you have a plan!" Y/N yells as Dean walks over to the bed next to her, a scared look on his face as the three argue.

"You know what? You care about killing this demon, more than do you your own son!" Sam shouts at the top of his lungs, pointing to the door and back to John. "Come on guys. Don't do this!" Dean pleads but they can't hear him. "Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean!" John shouts back defensively. "How?!" Sam and Y/N exclaim in unison. "How is revenge gonna help him?! You're not thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession!" Sam adds angrily.

Dean places his hand on his head stressed, "Please guys, don't do this!" Dean pleads, anger building in him. "This demon killed your mother and it killed your mother too, y/n! It killed your girlfriend, Sam! You begged me to be apart of this hunt!" John barks at the two younger hunters, their faces contorting painfully.

He then turns to Sam. "Now if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would've happened!" John further adds. Sam grimaces, stepping closer to John. "It was possessing you, Dad. I would've killed you too!" Sam growls. "Yeah and your brother would be awake!" John retorts. Their faces dropped at this. "Go to hell" Sam grits his teeth at John.

Y/N's eyes widen at Sam's words. "Okay, that's enough!". "Shut up all of you!!" Y/N and Dean yell at the same time. She puts her free hand infront of Sam, trying to push him out of the room. "Let's go Sam!" She tries to get him out. "You know, I should've never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!" John seethes through his teeth as Y/N tries to pull Sam out of the room.

"I said, SHUT UP!!!" Dean bellows, absolutely fed up of the bickering. He slaps John's glass of water off the table, the glass smashes into pieces on the ground. The three conscious hunters head snap in the direction of the glass breaking. Their argument cutting short. They all look at each other shocked and confused, mirroring Deans expression.

"Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that motherfucker" Dean mutters proudly but still shocked. "I knew it" Y/N gasps, realization hitting her like that truck. "Sam, take a walk" Y/N instructs him calmly. Sam's gaze snaps to her, "But, I-" He goes to further argue but she cuts him off. "Take a walk, Samuel!" She snaps firmly, pointing to the door, the three Winchester men eyes widen at her tone, now realizing she's serious.

He nods obediently before giving his father one last glare before walking out the door to head to Deans room. When Sam finally leaves, y/n turns to John. Pure fury in her eyes. "Listen, y/n. I don't wanna hear i-" John goes to say but she cuts him off with a huff. "No. You're gonna listen to me, John Winchester. Because I'm not your kid who's gonna take your crap. And I'm certainly not, Dean" She clenches her jaw angrily.

Dean is still at the corner of the room, his mouth agape at the fact that Y/N is standing up to his father for him. "Excuse me?" John scoffs baffled by her tone. "You heard me." She snaps back. "Dean has done NOTHING but WORSHIP the ground you and dad walked on from day one! And this is how you repay him?! You just toss him away like trash?!" Y/N growls enraged. John's chests heaves with anger, clenching his jaw as the guilt rises in him.

"No you don't get to tell me t-!" John goes to argue but she cuts him off. "How bout for once, instead of being a drill sergeant, you be a father?!" She exclaims exasperatedly. His mouth snaps shut again, speechless. John's eyes doesn't meet hers, his head bowed in shame. "I mean, Dean does everything you ask him to. If you ask him to jump off a bridge and it means saving the world. He would swan dive straight off without hesitation, just to make you happy!" She further reiterates.

"Your.Son.Is.Dying." Y/N grits her teeth, tears threatening to fall out her eyes again. "And he needs you. Right now, it's not Sam he wants. And it sure as hell ain't me. It's you, John" She sighs. John's tear filled eyes finally meets her, "Just please, go hold his hand and tell him it'll be okay. You never know what could happen" She pleads with him. John nods tearfully, grief stricken.

Dean felt a sense of admiration, his heart swelling as he stares at the scene unfolding in-front of him. Y/N cared about him, that's all he could ever ask for. "You're right" He admits, sniffling back tears. She's shocked from this and so is Dean. "You're damn right I am" She says firmly. At that second, Dean begins to feel a pain in his mid section. He falls to the ground knee first, groaning in pain. The image of his spirit fading. Y/N and John notice some nurses and doctors rushing down the halls.

"What-" Dean mutters, gasping in pain. "Something's going on out there. Go check it out" John tells her urgently. She nods before making her way out of the room. She reaches to Deans room to see Sam standing in-front of it, tears in his eyes. Limping towards Sam on her crutches, she asks, "Sammy, what's-" She goes to ask, her statement cutting short when she sees some nurses and doctors around Deans body.

He was coding and the doctors were shocking him to get his heartbeat back. "No" Y/N gasps tearfully. Clutching onto Sam, both their hearts breaking at the sight. "Clear!" A nurse exclaims, shocking Dean with the paddles. "Still no pulse" Another nurse says. "Come on, Dean. Come on!" Sam prays, as he holds y/n up. Both crying as y/n's head lays on his shoulder. "Okay, let's go again. 360" The doctor instructs.

"Charging" the nurse obliges. "All clear?" The doctor asks, resting the paddles to Deans chests. "Clear!" The nurse responds, the doctor then shocking Dean. Sam and Y/N look on in tears as the doctors shock Dean but he's not coming to. Deans spirit emerges from behind them. His eyes widening when he sees the spirit from earlier hovering above his body. "Get the hell away from me!" He bellows angrily.

"Stay back!" He yells, running into the room past Sam and Y/N. The spirit still hovers over Dean, "I SAID GET BACK!!!" Dean screams, grabbing onto the spirit, only to be tossed into the wall. The spirit turns to look at him before disapparating out of the room. Dean rushes after it and then the nurse says, "We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm" to the doctor. Sam and Y/N let out a harsh breath of relief.

Meanwhile, Dean is canvassing the halls. Looking desperately for the spirit. He's unsuccessful so he goes back to his room to see Sam and Y/N still there. Tears still in their eyes as they stare at the machine monitoring Deans heartbeat. "Don't worry Sammy and y/n/n. I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting that thing before it gets me" Dean assures them but they can't hear him.

However y/n feels a familiar chill to her right side, the side where Deans standing. She looks over quickly, only to see there's no one there. "It's some kind of spirit but I could grab it. And if I could grab it, I can kill it" He adds. Sam notices y/n look over to her right side. Feeling almost the exact same chill but not as strong.

"Did you feel that too??" Sam asks her quietly. She nods shakily, "Yeah..." She whispers. Dean smiles a bit, hopeful that they'll find a way to communicate with him.

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Dean wanders down the halls, the sound of a woman's voice drawing him out of his sullen mood. "Can't you see me?!" The woman yells frustrated. "Why won't you look at me?!" The woman further yells. Dean huffs in irritation, "Now what?" He grumbles, following after the sound of her voice.

He ends up at the stairs near the receptionist he was earlier, "Somebody talk to me! Say something, please!" A young beautiful woman, dressed similar to Dean tries to get the attention of people in the hospital but she's unsuccessful. "Can you see me?!" Dean asks her. She turns around shocked. "Yeah" She breathes out relieved.

Hope rises in Deans chest, "Hi, just uh...calm down" He says to her gently. "What's your name?" He asks. "Tessa" She responds a bit shakily. "Okay, good. Tessa. I'm Dean" He introduces himself. "What's happening to me?" Tessa asks fearfully. Dean felt pity towards the girl, she wasn't aware of anything going on. "Am I- Am I dead?" She stutters, her voice breaking. "That sort of depends" Dean responds honestly.

They're now infront of Tessa's room. Her physical body also on life support like Dean. A woman next to her bed who Tessa makes out to be her mother. "I don't understand. I just came in for an appendectomy" She says confused. "I hate to bear bad news but....I think there were some complications" Dean says awkwardly. "It's just a dream. That's all. This is just...a very weird...unbelievably vivid dream" Tessa tries to convince herself firmly.

Dean gives the girl a sympathetic look, "Tessa. It's not a dream" He says honestly. Her face drops, "Then what else could it be?" She asks him. Dean hesitated to answer, trying to find the right words, "You ever heard of an out-of-body experience?" He asks her but she shakes her head. "What are you, some New Age-y guy?" Tessa huffs.

Dean scoffs, "You see me messing with crystals or listening to Yanni?" He retorts. She looks down shaking her head, "It's actually a very old idea. It's got a lot of names. Bilocation, crisis apparition, fetches. I think it's happening to us" He explain to her calmly. "And if it is....it means that we're spirits of people close to death" He adds. Tessas eyes widen in fear, turning back to look at her body and then back to Dean.

"So we're gonna die?" She asks, "No. not if we hold on. Our bodies can get better. You can snap right back in there and wake up" Dean responds firmly. She looks at him hesitantly.

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"What do you mean you guys 'felt something'?" John asks Sam and y/n who are explaining what they felt earlier. "I mean..." Y/N sighs, looking between the two of them nervously. "Go on sweetheart" John urges her. She sighs before starting, "I mean, when I was in Deans room earlier. I was praying" She begins. "You prayed?" Sam cocks his eyebrow, surprised at this.

"Yes. Shut up" She huffs, rolling her eyes as Sam puts him hands up in surrender. "As I was saying" She says exasperated. "I was praying. And when I finished, I felt this kind of chill on my cheek and it spread to the rest of my body. I was sitting at his bedside and I could've sworn I heard someone say 'Princess' " She adds, giving them a knowing look. Their eyes widen.

"The only person on this earth that calls me that is Dean. And the same thing happened after the doctors got his pulse back. Sam said he felt it too" Y/N tries to further explain. "Exactly, it felt like...Dean. Like he was there but just out of eyeshot" Sam defends her point. "I don't know if our psychic thing or what. But do you think it's even possible? You think his spirit could be around?" Y/N asks John.

John smiles slightly, "Anything's possible" He says nodding. "Well, there's one way to find out" Sam says firmly. "What's that?" Y/N asks confused. "You'll see, let's go" He says vaguely, helping her out of the room. "I've got it. I'm not a child" She grumbles, slapping his arm out of the way as she limps using her stolen crutch. Y/N hates the feeling of being helpless, she appreciates Sam's helpfulness but it still sucks.

"Okay Thumbelina, if you fall I'm not picking you up" He retorts, putting his hands up in surrender. She narrows his eyes at him, huffing because of the smug look on his face. "Shut it, little Winchester" She huffs. "Where are you guys going?" John asks them. "I gotta go pick something up. I'll be back" Sam responds. "Wait, kids" John calls out to them as they go to walk out.

They turn back to him, "I promise, I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know Deans okay" John promises. They share a look before nodding firmly, now headed out of John's room.

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"I gotta say, I'm impressed" Dean says to Tessa as they wander down the halls. "With what?" She asks confused. "You. You know, most people in your spout would be Jell-O by now, but you're taking this pretty well. Maybe better than me" He responds. "Don't get me wrong. I was pretty freaked at first. But...now I don't know. Maybe, I'm dealing" She turns to him, sighing.

"So you're okay with dying?" Dean cocks his eyebrow at this suspiciously. "No, of course not" Tessa scoffs. "I just think, whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen. It's out of my control. It's just fate" She puts it simple while Dean nods, the look on his face is not convinced with what she's dishing out. "Now that's crap" Dean blurts out, causing Tessa's face to drop.

"You always have a choice. You could either roll over and die or you keep fighting no matter wh-" Dean begins to say firmly but stops mid sentence when he hears a woman over the PA say, "Dr. Kripke to Room 237. Code blue. Dr. Kripke.." as some nurses and doctors rush to the room. Dean turns and begins to follow behind him.

"Dean, where are you going?" Tessa asks panicked. He turns to her, "Just wait here" He says calmly before turning back to run behind the doctors. He reaches a room where a little girl is being resuscitated, "Give me another amp of epi please" A doctor says to the nurse, Deans face is contorted with horror at the sight of the little girl dying. His eyes flicker above her to see the spirit that was hovering over him earlier, hovering over her.

"Get away from her!" Dean growls, reaching over to grab the spirit but it disapparates quickly. He watches as the doctors try to restart her heart but they're failing.

"Come on"

"Negative"

"Still nothing"

"Alright, let's call it"

"Time of death, 5:11 p.m."

"At least she's not suffering anymore"

Reality hits Dean, his heart paining because the little girl just lost her life. And soon enough, whether he wants to accept it or not. That could be him.

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Y/N has her head laid on Deans bed, sitting on the chair next to it. Half asleep as Sam walks into the room with a paper bag, "Hey, wake up" Sam says gently, reaching over to shake her shoulder lightly. She shoots up startled, "Huh, what? I'm awake" Babbling sleepily, wiping the drool from her mouth. Sam shakes his head with a small smile on his face.

Heart warmed from the fact that y/n refused to leave Deans side this entire time. It's a stressful day for all of them and he's surprised she hasn't reached for her pack of cigarettes yet. "What's that?" Y/N asks, pointing to the paper bag in Sams hand as she yawns. Sam sighs deeply, looking over at Dean. "We think maybe Deans around, and if he is....you both will make fun over me for this but um...." He pauses, looking down at the bag.

He reaches in to pull out an Ouija Board, "But there's one way we all can talk" Sam says. Dean scoffs behind him, the two still not seeing him as Y/N shoots Sam an unimpressed look. "Oh you gotta be kidding me" Dean and Y/N mutter in unison. Sam beckons y/n over to the foot of Deans bed, taking a seat on the ground cross legged.

"It's our only option y/n/n" Sam defends. "It's an ouija board, Sammy. I feel like I'm in a slumber party" Y/N scoffs as Dean chuckles at her humor. Sam gives her a pleading look, her face softens at his desperation before sighing. She obliged, limping over to the foot of the bed. Dean scoffs, "Come on, one puppy dog look from him and you're jello" Dean rolls his eyes, feeling a bit jealous.

"Here, let me..." Sam helps her to the ground to take a seat across from him. "Don't you forget who thought you that puppy dog look" Y/N points at him firmly as Sam smirks lightly. He takes the board out of the box and places it between him and y/n. They place their fingers in the planchette. As y/n touches the board, a slightly tingly feeling creeps up her fingers and down her spine. "Dean?" Sam calls out to him brother. "Dean, are you here?" Y/N calls out.

She sighs, "Well, that's a bust. How bout we braid each others hair, Sam?" Y/N retorts jokingly with a cheeky causing Dean and Sam to shake their heads amused, "We might as well break out into pillow fights" Dean mutters, taking a seat on the other side of the board, he sits crossed legged like Sam. "Alright, guys. This isn't gonna work" Dean then places his fingers on the planchette like them.

She gasps lightly the second he touches it, a surge of power running through her. She quickly pulls her hands away. "What's wrong?" Sam asks her concerned. She's still shaken, not sure why she did. "I thought I felt- Nothing" She responds, slowly putting her hands back. Dean cocks his eyebrows at this and then slightly begins to move it towards the 'Yes' on the board. Sam and Y/N scoff in relief, "Y/N...if that's you moving it- " Sam says warily.

"I'm fucked up, Sam but I'm not that fucked up. That ain't me" She mutters back. Dean is stunned that it worked. "I'll be damned" Dean mutters. Sam and Y/N smile at each other, chuckling in relief. "Oh, It's good to hear from you, charming" Y/N says softly, her heart swelling. A smile takes over Deans face. "It hasn't been the same without you, Dean" Sam says tearfully. "Damn straight" Dean responds.

In that moment, a white flash engulfs y/n's eyes. She gasps in pain, tilting her head towards the ceiling. "Y/N?!" Sam calls out for her concerned. His face is etched in horror when he notices her eyes are pure white. Dean is stunned, "What's going on?!" He asks. His voice filled her ears, as if it was her favorite song. Her eyes widen, settled in Deans direction.

Her fingers remain on the board, "Dean?" She whispers shakily, absolutely taken back that she could see Dean now. "Y/N? You can see me?!" Dean is shaken. She nods tearfully as Sam looks confused, "Can you see him?" Sam asks baffled. "Yeah" She croaks. "Oh thank g-" Dean goes to reach over to hug her but she stops him. "No, don't!" Y/N says, making him holt in position.

He looks at her confused. "I think us touching this is why I can see you" She says calmly. Dean nods understandably, "I'm just happy you can see me" Dean sighs as y/n smiles tearfully. "Me too" She sniffles. "How can you see and hear him but I can't?" Sam asks confused, a bit heartbroken he can't see his brother. "I don't know, but I can communicate for us now" She says hopefully.

"There's a spirit in the hospital. We need to hunt it" Dean quickly tells her. Her eyebrows raised at this, "A hunt? You're hunting" She gasps. "A hunt?" Sam asks. Y/N nods, "He said there's a spirit in the hospital and we have to hunt it" Y/N reiterates Deans words. "Ask him what kind of spirit is it" Sam tells her. She nods, "What kind of spirit do you think it is?" Y/N asks him.

"A reaper. I don't think it's killing people, I think it's taking them. You know...when their time is just up" Dean responds. Her heart drops, tears welling up in her eyes again, "So you think...it's after you?" She whispers. "It is" Dean says sadly. "What did he say?" Sam asks. "Oh, sorry. It's a reaper. And it's after him" Y/N says. Sams heart drops painfully.

"If it's here naturally...there's no way to stop it" Sam says in a solemn tone. "Yeah, you can't kill death" Dean sighs. "Dean, you're uh-" Y/N stutters. "I'm screwed, babe" Dean responds pessimistic. "No. No no no." She says firmly. "There's got to be a way" Sam insists, shaking his head he takes his hand off of the board. "Dad'll know what to do" Sam says, getting up from the ground.

"Where are you going?" Y/N asks, her hand still on the board as Dean looks on. "Dads room" Sam answers, leaving Dean and y/n in the room. They look at each other tearfully, "You'll be okay" Y/N insists. Dean shakes his head sighing, "I'm gonna make sure of it" She says firmly. Dean smiles sadly, "Thanks princess" He says tearfully before taking his hands off of the board, disapparating infront of y/n's eyes, tears brim at her eyes.

Finally allow herself to break down again. Her chest aching. She already lost her dad, she couldn't bare to lose Dean too. Deans heart swells painfully as Y/N cries into her hands because he probably isn't gonna make it. But Dean hasn't given up, he's determined to find a way to protect him family, to be there for them. One way or another, he's gonna make it.

Sam enters John's room in a rush, only to see the bed empty, his father no where in sight, "Dad?" Sam whispers in confusion.

In that exact moment, John enters the boiler room of the hospital. One of his arms in a sling, the other carrying the bag of stuff he asked Bobby to get for him. He rests it down in the middle of the room, groaning from the pain coursing through his body. He kneels and takes out some chalk and begins drawing a line with a circle on one end of the line, possibly a trap for the demon.

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Y/N hears the door open and quickly wipe her tears away, "Hey, so dad wasn't in his room" Sam tells her whilst helping her up from the ground she was still on, "Where is he?" She and Dean ask in unison worried, dusting herself off as she uses the crutch to balance. "I don't know. But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something in here" He tells her, taking a seat on Deans bed while she sits on the chair she was on earlier.

Dean moves closer as Sam flips through the journal and that's when she felt the chill she got earlier. She's pretty sure Dean is standing next to them. "Thanks for not giving up on me, guys" Dean says gratefully, although they can't hear him anymore. He takes a look at his vegetative state on the bed, painfully grimacing.

Sam then flips to a page about reapers, Deans face contorts in disbelief when he reads off of the page, shaking his head he mutters, "Son of a bitch" before running out of the room to look for Tessa. Leaving Sam and Y/N in the room. Dean trudges down the hall, back to Tessa's room only to now see her dressed in a black pantsuit, the room empty, not a soul in sight.

"Hi Dean" Tessa says in a solemn tone as she leans on the hospital bed. "You know, you read the most interesting things." Dean grits his teeth. "For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception?" Dean states ironically, offering a sarcastic chuckle as Tessa looks at him guilt ridden. "I sure didn't" He scoffs.

She doesn't answer so he continues, walking closer to her. "Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say a....a pretty girl" He points out, calling her out on her true identity. "You're much prettier than the last reaper I met" Dean states angrily, a small smile appearing on Tessa's face. "I was wondering when you'd figure it out" She says calmly.

Dean shakes his head, "I should've known. That whole 'accepting fate' rap of your is farrr too laidback for a dead chick. But you know, the mother and the body, I'm still trying to figure that one out" He further says. "It's my sandbox. I can make you see whatever I want" She simply puts it. "What is this, like, a turn on for you? Huh? Toying with me?" He spits angrily.

"You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girls feelings" She shrugs as Dean looks at her with disbelief. "This was the only way I could get you to talk to me" Tessa says calmly. "Okay, fine. We're talking. The hell do you wanna talk about?" Dean spits. Tessa gets up from the bed and moves closer to Dean.

"How death is nothing to fear" She says, bringing her hand up to place it on his cheek. "It's your time to go, Dean. And you're living on borrowed time already" She says calmly as she strokes his cheek. Dean shakes his head, refusing to believe it.

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Meanwhile, John set up an altar with red candles. A pentagon with circles at each point, red candles in each circle. He sits crossed legged in front of it, chanting an incantation in Latin, trying to summon the demon. He pulls out his knife, pressing the blade to his palm, digging it into his skin as he groans from the pressure and pain, continuing to chant the incantation as the blood drips into the bowl with the ingredients he made Bobby get.

He then strikes a match, before finishing the incantation. Dropping the lit match into the bowl, it lights aflame for a couple seconds before diminishing. John gets up from the altar and warily looks around the room for any signs on the demon. His heart stops when a man grabs his shoulder of a sudden, "What the hell are you doing down here buddy?" The man asks him suspiciously.

"I can explain" John quickly tries to come up with a lie. "Yeah? You're gonna explain to Security. Come on, follow me" The man says firmly, proceeding to usher John out. But he narrows his eyes at the man before smirking, he then cocks the Colt in his direction. "Hey!" The man turns around, eyes wide at the gun trained in his direction.

"How stupid do you think I am?" John smirks smugly. The man's eyes turn to a flash of yellow, a wide smirk taking over his face. "You really want an honest answer to that?" The man chuckles as two demon possessed doctors emerge from the background. "You conjuring me, John. I'm surprised. I took you for a lot of things....but suicidally reckless wasn't one of them" The yellow eyed demon smirks menacingly, mocking John.

"I could always shoot you" John retorts, mimicking his tone. "You could always miss" The demon smiles, pretending to try to take the gun away from John before chuckling darkly. "And you only got one try, don't you?" The demon winks at him. "Did you really think you could trap me?" The demon says smugly.

"Oh, I don't wanna trap you" John smirks, uncocking the hun. He lowers it, "I wanna make a deal" John says simply. The demons eyes widen in shock but his smile also widens.

________________________________

Sam and Y/N are still in Dean's room, "Dean. Are you here?" Y/N calls out for Dean but she doesn't feel or see anything. She looks over at Sam sadly and shakes her head. "We couldn't find anything in the book, I don't know how we can help you" Sam stresses, talking to Dean as he takes a seat on the couch. He rakes his hands through his hair nervously. "But we'll keep trying, alright?" Y/N adds. Resting her hand on the crown of his head.

"As long as you keep fighting" She says gently as she strokes his hair. "I mean, come on. You can't leave me and Sam all alone with John. They'll kill each other. You know that" Y/N jokes lightly, chuckling painfully. Sam cracks a smile at this. "We'll probably send y/n to an early grave because we stressed her out so much" Sam adds jokingly, earning a scoffed chuckle from y/n.

"I give it two weeks tops" She chuckles shaking her head. Their smiles drop slowly, "Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man. Not now. We were just starting to be brothers again" Sam whispers tearfully. Y/N gives him a sympathetic look, "Can you hear me?" Sam sobs lowly, his head bowed in his hands. Y/N sighs, getting up from her chair.

She slowly limps to the couch, settling next to her best friend. She then wraps one of her arms around his shoulder comfortingly, "He never stopped being your brother, Sammy" She says gently. This makes whatever Sam was holding onto break. The dam inside of his just started flowing. He buries his head in her shoulder sobbing. "He'll be okay" She tries to convince not only Sam, but herself. Stroking his hair as he sobs painfully.

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Back in the room with Tessa, "Look, I'm sure you've heard this before but...you gotta make an exception. You gotta cut me a break" Dean pleads with the reaper as he looks out the window. "Stage 3, bargaining" Tessa says. He turns to her. "I'm serious" He says. "My family's in danger. See we're kind of in the middle of this....um...war. And they need me" He tries to explain.

"The fights over" Tessa says calmly. "No it isn't" Dean insists. "It is for you" She states making his heart drop. "Dean, you're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same. They can't leave. Victory hangs in the balance. But they're wrong" She further elaborates. "The battle goes on without them" She assures him.

"My brother. Y/N. They could die without me" Dean pleads. "Maybe they will. Maybe they won't. Nothing you can do about it" She tells him honestly. Deans face drops, he turns away not answering her. "It's an honorable death. A warriors death" She tries to persuade him. "I think I'll pass on the 72 virgins, thanks. I'm not that into prude chicks anyways" Dean scoffs, covering up his sorrow with humor.

"That's funny. You're very cute." Tessa smiles. "There's no such thing as an honorable death. My corpse is gonna rot in the ground. My family is gonna die!" Dean bellows. "No. I'm not going with you. I don't care what you do" Dean says firmly, shaking his head. Tessa sighs and moves closer to him. "Well, like you said. There's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. But...you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts." She states.

Dean looks at her confused, "So, yes. You can stay...you'll stay here for years...disembodied, scared. And over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent" She says calmly. "What are you saying?" Dean asks fearfully, not wanting to believe what she's saying. "Dean...how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go and they can't move on. And you're about to become one" She explains. Realization dawns on Dean, "The same thing you hunt" She adds. His heart stops, fearing he'll end up a vengeful spirit.

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Back in the boiler room, "It's very unseemly. Making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?" The yellow eyed demon says suspiciously, "It's not trick. I will give you the Colt and the bullet...but you gotta help Dean" John says firmly. The demon moves closer to the patriarch Winchester. "You gotta bring him back." John says.

"Why, John, you're a sentimentalist. If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them" The demon grins widely, John doesn't allow his words to get to him. "It's a good trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do Dean" John says plainly. "Don't be so sure. He killed some people very special to me" The demon growls as John smiles smugly.

"But still, you're right. He isn't much of a threat. And neither is your other son, of course" The demon smirks. "Their little hot friend though, she is a gamble....I can't read her cards. But I will eventually" He smiles widely as John's smile falters, moving closer to John. "You know the truth, right? About Sammy, y/n/n and the other children?" The demon asks.

"Yeah. I've known for a while" John responds in a low tone. "But they don't, do they? You and f/n have been playing dumb" The demon presses. "Can you bring Dean back? Yes or no?" John grits his teeth angrily, glaring at him, not wanting to talk about this subject further. "No. But I know someone who can. It's not a problem" The demon responds with a dark smile.

"Good" John responds plainly, still glaring at him. "And before I give you the gun, I'm gonna wanna make sure that Deans okay, with my own eyes" He bargains. "Oh, John, I'm offended. Don't you trust me?" The demon feigns innocence in a mock hurt tone. John just scoffs, "Fine." The demon obliges. "So we have a deal?" John asks. "No, John, not yet. You still need to sweeten the pot" The demon growls.

"With what?" John scoffs. The demon glares at him, getting up into his face. "There's something else I want as much as that gun. Maybe more" The demon says in a menacing tone. John gulps fearfully but keeps his game face on.

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Dean and Tessa are sat on the hospital bed, "It's time to put the pain behind you" Tessa is still trying to convince Dean, caressing his hair gently. The way she's doing it right now, it doesn't seem to bring comfort to him. Part of his is wishing it was Y/N comforting him. All he wants to see is that beautiful cheeky smile on her face one last time before he kicks the bucket. "And go where?" Dean asks, his face filled with despair.

"Sorry. I can't give away the big punchline" Tessa says softly, taking her hand off of him. "Moment of truth....so what's it going to be?" She asks him. Dean hesitates for a second before turning to Tessa. He doesn't get a chance to answer because the lights in the room started to flicker, the electricity began buzzing.

They look around in worry, "What are you doing that for?" Dean asks her fearfully. She looks over at him confused, "I'm not doing it" She tells him. Their eyes flicker over to the vent when they see a black cloudy smoke coming out from it. It begins to engulf Tessa."What the hell?" Dean mutters confused. "You can't do this! Get away!!" She screams pained as Dean looks on, eyes wide with terror.

"What's happening?!" He screams fearfully as the cloud enters Tessa's mouth, the reaper screams as it does so. She then turns to Dean in a snap, with now yellow eyes. "Todays your lucky day, kid" before resting her hand on his forehead. Deans eyes widen, groaning in pain.

Back in his hospital room, Y/N is still consoling a broken Sam. Dean gasps awake, causing their heads to snap up in his direction. "Dean?!" They exclaim surprised as Dean chokes on the tubes in his mouth. "Help!!! We need help!!!!" Y/N screams for help from the doctors.

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"I can't explain it. The edemas vanished, the internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good" The doctor explains as he reads from the file after doing a fully body work on Dean. He's stunned by this and so are they. "You got some kind of angel watching over you" The doctor comments, still in disbelief. "Thanks doc" Dean thanks him before the doctor walks out of the room.

"You guys said a reaper was after me?" Dean asks the two younger hunters. "Yeah" Sam responds. "I saw you, full form everything. You talked to me. It was weird, I'm not gonna lie" Y/N says. "How?" Dean asks her surprised. "Beats me" She scoffs. "How'd I ditch the reaper though?" He asks them. "You got me." Sam responds shaking his head. "Dean, you really don't remember anything?" Y/N asks him again but he shakes his head.

"No, except this pit in my stomach" Dean responds, looking over at them. "Guys, something's wrong" Dean insists. A knocking on the door draws their attention, they turn to see John leaning on the door frame. "How you feeling, dude?" John asks his elder son with a smile. "Fine, I guess. I'm alive" Dean responds. "That's what matters" John says softly with a content smile.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asks his father suspiciously. "I had some things to take care of" John responds vaguely. "Well, that's specific" Sam retorts sarcastically. This makes y/n shake her head scoffing, "Come on, Sam" Dean groans. "Did you go after the demon?" Sam asks. "No" John lies. "You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam picks an argument as Dean and Y/N shake their heads.

John sighs and enters the room, "Can we not fight?" John pleads. The three younger hunters look at him surprised when a smile takes his face over, "You know, half the time we're fighting. I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads" John chuckles, Sam is beyond taken back. "Sammy, I've- I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could." John says tearfully.

Dean turns his head to his father in suspicion as Y/N narrows her eyes at John. "I just don't wanna fight anymore, okay?" John says calmly. The boys have no idea how to respond, "John, are you alright?" Y/N asks him concerned. He just smiles wider, a content look on his face. "Yeah. I'm just a little tired" John nods smiling, she isn't convinced but they take the bait.

"Hey, Sam. Would you mind- uh. Would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?" John asks him younger son. "Yeah. Yeah sure" Sam says hesitantly before looking over at Dean and walking out the room. The silence is a little awkward so y/n gets up from her chair. "I'm gonna, uh, catch up with Sam and give you two some privacy" Y/N says, balancing herself on the crutch. John gives her a grateful smile.

"You take it easy, alright sweetheart?" John says to her gently. She looks at him confused before he engulfs her in a hug. She's taken back by this as Deans eyebrows shoot to the sky. "Uh, yeah. I will, Mr. Winchester" She chuckles awkwardly, patting his back. When John pulls away, "It's John" He smiles. She smiles back, "Sorry, John" She responds, guilt rising in her chest.

"And I'm sorry about yelling at you" She apologizes sincerely. "It's alright, we were all stressed. You've been through a lot already." He smiles, giving her a sympathetic look. "Thanks" Y/N sighs in relief gratefully before she limps out of the room. Y/N and Dean share a confused look from behind Johns back. She mouths, 'What the fuck?' To Dean who just shrugs.

He notices the look of despair on his fathers face and breaks the ice, "What is it?" Dean asks him. John sighs, "You know, when you were a kid...me and f/n come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen, I'd be....I'd be wrecked" He admits. A tearful smile on his face, "And you....you'd come up to me and you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye, and you-" John holds back a sob, tears brimming in his eyes threatening to fall.

"You'd say, 'It's okay, Dad' ". He smiles tearfully. Dean doesn't know how to answer, "Dean....I'm sorry" John apologizes sincerely. "For what?" Dean asks. "You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been saying that to you" John says honestly. "You know, I put- I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sam and Y/N, and you took care of me and F/N. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once" John says proudly.

"I just want you to know...that I am so proud of you" John sniffles. "This really you talking?" Dean asks warily, not expecting any of this from his father. "Yeah. Yeah it's really me" John responds smiling as he sniffles. "Why are you saying this stuff?" Dean asks. John just sighs and takes a seat on his sons bed. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out an old red velvet box, Dean is confused when John hands it to him.

"Dad, what's this?" He asks his father when he opens it to see white gold princess-cut ring, the diamond was small but dazzling. The band was thin but sturdy. "It's your mothers wedding ring" John answers. Deans eyes snap up to his fathers in shock. "Why are you giving me this?" Dean asks his father stunned. "Because it's always been with me and the right person to give it to is my eldest son" John smiles.

His eyes flickers to the door then back to Dean, "And I think you and I both know, who the right person for you to give that to is" He gives his son a knowing look, Deans heart swells at this. "I- I don't k-" Dean stutters, his eyes trained on the gorgeous ring. "It's okay son" John assures him chuckling. "Y/N is an amazing girl. She didn't leave your side for one second, and might I mention, came to your defense without hesitation and gave me a hefty piece of her mind" John chuckles shaking his head.

"I don't know what to say that" Dean says still taken back. John smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Just promise me you'll watch out for Sammy and y/n/n, okay?" John orders him gently. "Yeah, Dad. You know I will" Dean responds in a cracky tone, clutching the ring box in his hand. Closing it to look up at his father, tears now running down Johns face. "You're scaring me" Dean croaks at the sight of his father crying.

"Don't be scared, Dean" John assures him tearfully, he then leans over and whispers something in Deans ear. The ring box falls from Deans clutches, his face dropping at his fathers request,not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. Wondering, why in tarnation would his father give him this ring, ask him to take care of Sam and Y/N but then request such monstrosity of him.

When John pulls away, he stands up and looks down to see his son with pure disbelief, conflict, pain etched on his face. He gives his son a firm nod and a tearful smile but Dean can't even look him in the eye. John then exits Deans room, strolling down the hall. Despair and horror on his face. He reenters his room, met face to face with the man he made the deal with to save Deans life. He then takes the Colt out of his pocket, resting it on the table. "Okay" He says to the man in a solemn tone.

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Sam and Y/N stroll down the hall, "Did you put sugar in mine?" Y/N asks him, sipping her coffee. She grimaces a bit at the bitterness. "I put three packs" Sam informs her, chuckling at the look on her face as she limps, "Jesus, this tastes the the bottom of the filter" She grimaces. "You're just deprived from nicotine and also, a sugar junkie" Sam retorts jokingly scoffing.

"Don't be a hater Mr. Half-Caf Double Vanilla Latte" She retorts rolling her eyes chuckling and Sam smiles. Her smile drops and she stops in her tracks when her eyes land on a man sprawled out on the floor in a room. Her heart sinks to the floor, "What's w-" Sam asks, looking in the direction her eyes are trained in. "Dad?" Sam whispers pained, rushing to his fathers side.

His grip on the coffee cup he was bringing for John falters. "Help!!! We need help!!!" Y/N screams for nurses along with Sam. "Please! Somebody help us!!" Sam pleads. Nurses and Doctors pile in within seconds.

The doctors are trying to resuscitate John Winchester as the three younger hunters look on, tears in their eyes. "Guys, you'll have to wait outside" A nurse tries to usher them out. "No, it's our dad. It's our dad!" Dean snaps. The doctors have an oxygen mask over John's nose, pumping his chest. "Okay, let's try again. An amp of atropine" The doctor orders the nurse. "Come on" Dean pleads tearfully.

"Pushing atropine....In" The nurse does as the doctor says. Sam is breathing heavily looking on as y/n tries to control herself, staying strong for the boys. "Okay, stop compression" The doctor orders. "Stopped. Last breath" The nurse obliges taking her hand off of John's chest as the other nurse takes the mask off. The monitor showing he has no heartbeat.

"Come on, come on, come one" Dean mutters pleadingly. "Still no pulse" Another nurse says, placing her finger to his neck. "Okay, that's it, everybody. I'll call it" The doctor says.

"Time of death, 10:41 a.m."

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Authors Note: DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD!!😁I took way longer with this chapter because I got sick over this past week, but I'm doing a little better now. Updates might be a bit slower but I'm trying, thank you to those who are reading and here is the season 2 premiere!!! Note that this chapter is not edited. Hope everyone enjoyed.

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

Xoxo

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