#<- will i regret tagging this? possibly. however.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelltheninth · 3 months ago

Text

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

949 notes · View notes

jaderabbitt · 13 days ago

Text

Incidents

Incidents:

the many, many times in which people find out about the existence of you—Mrs. Barnes.

or,

you’re Bucky’s wife; you also happen to be an augmented Hydra experiment. people often forget both those things.

—

This is planned as a first part to a connected drabble series!

Word Count: unknown, i wrote this in notes.

Tags: fluff, tension, comedy, pre-established relationship, threats of violence, canon divergent, no physical descriptions of reader, no descriptions of reader’s power (yet), no use of Y/N.

— — —

Bucky’s jaw clenched as his ringtone went off a second time. He had let it go to voicemail the first time, pointedly glaring at both Sam and Dr. Raynor. The psychologist simply quirked an eyebrow in his direction, tapping her pen against that infernal notebook.

Sam, however, seized the opportunity to continue being the biggest pain in Bucky’s ass. “You gonna answer that, man?”

“No.”

“I think you should answer it, James,” came the doctor’s infuriatingly calm tone.

Bucky ground his teeth together, reaching for his phone, slammed it on the table, and declined the call.

Dr. Raynor didn’t seem to understand the gravity of that simple action, but Sam and Bucky tensed up immediately. Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose instantly in regret. Sam’s mouth hung open, ready to catch the next fly that hatched within the room.

“You did not-“

“I did.”

“She’s gonna kill you.”

“I know.” Bucky groaned, a timidness in his voice. His vibranium arm whirred as it clenched into a fist, the sound of metal grinding against metal echoing in the emptiness of the interrogation room. Dr. Raynor had a puzzled look, her eyes glancing between the two men sat across the table.

“Alright, what’s going on here? Who is ‘she’, James?” She asked, her tone dropping from ‘therapist’ to ‘confused veteran’ in that instant.

Sam once again gaped, his eyes rapidly going back and forth between the other two in the room, as if he just figured out the murderer in Clue. His finger pointed accusingly at Bucky, “You didn’t tell her?!”

“No shit! Of course I didn’t tell her!” Bucky whisper-yelled, exasperated.

“‘Her’ is sitting right here, and would like an explanation, James.”

Bucky groaned again, covering his face with both hands and slouching back in his chair, defeated.

“It’s my-“ “It’s his-“

Sam and Bucky started at the same time, but both were cut off by the sound of ringing, for the third time. Both of their heads slowly turned towards the phone on the table, and then to each other. The fear on both their faces was evident, knowing who was on the other end of the call. Bucky slowly reached for the phone and flipped it open, hesitantly pressing the green ‘answer’ key, and bringing the device to his ear.

“Put me on speaker.” Came the dreaded voice, nearly shocking his entire system. He pulled the device away from his ear, nervously complying.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam swallowed audibly, and Bucky cursed silently. Sam replied with a greeting and your name, his voice wavering with barely concealed fear. Dr. Raynor simply watched on with intrigue.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I’m giving you sixty seconds to meet me at the precinct doors. You will join us, Sam.”

“Yes, ma’am,” both men answered, immediately scrambling to get out the room as quickly as possible as soon as they heard the click of the line going dead. Dr. Raynor long forgotten, both men disrupted the chaos of the precinct as they hauled ass to get to the doors as quickly as possible.

Of course, John Walker and his weirdly named sidekick stood in their way.

“Move.” Bucky growled, not wanting to use excessive force to move Walker himself in the middle of a police precinct. That would look very bad on his pardon record.

Of course, Walker had continued to try and talk to the two, effectively wasting their time without knowing what lay in wait past him.

That was, until one of the doors behind him slammed into the wall, creating a dent. Bucky and Sam cringed, leaning to peer behind Walker.

There you were, stood in the doorway, one arm outstretched to hold the door open. Your face was still and emotionless, but Bucky could see the scathing anger in your eyes. He made to walk towards you, but watched with curiosity as John Walker beat him to it.

Oh, this is gonna be good.

For the first time since seeing each other again, him and Sam agreed. They almost forgot that they were the ones in the hot seat when you turned your glare over to Walker.

“Excuse me, who are you?”

Your face turned into a sneer. “Who are you?” You reflected back, clearly not in the mood to interact with the man in the weird patriotic get-up.

“John Walker, Captain America, ma’am,” he announced, flashing you that practiced grin. It faltered a little when your expression only seemed to harden. Bucky had to hide his face behind his hand to prevent himself from laughing. Sam looked down, biting his lip, but his sly grin was clear as day.

“You’ll be Captain John Doe in a second if you don’t get the fuck out of my way.” You hissed, your hands clenching and unclenching by your sides like you were warming up the muscles.

Walker blinked, suddenly unsure of himself. He looked over to Lemar Hoskins.

“Did she just…”

“Threaten a government agent? Yeah, I think she did,” Hoskins replied.

Bucky finally decided to intervene before you did something rash. “As fun as it would be to watch her make your face unrecognizable, I think we should be going,” he nodded his head towards Sam, signaling him along.

“You know her, Barnes?”

“I would hope so. I’ve been married to her for 11 years.” *

Your left hand came up to press against his stubbled cheek, and he could feel the cold press of your ring against his skin. He kissed the inside of your palm gently, looking down at you. Your gaze softened considerably once you had him close. It made his heart ache, knowing that he had kept something from you and this was how you found out.

“James?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Get inside the car before I personally deliver you to the nearest Hydra cell.”

He shivered. “Yes, ma’am.”

As Bucky promptly made his way out, you pointed a finger at Sam, making a ‘come hither’ motion. He followed quickly, keeping his head down as a precaution. He couldn’t sweet talk his way out like Bucky could.

John Walker was left stupefied, and more-so unwilling to believe two things:

Bucky Barnes was married.

Bucky Barnes was married, and there was no record of it that had showed up when he was digging into his past.

So, either he lied (which was improbable given what just occurred), or you were the hardest woman to track on Planet Earth.

He was determined to find out who you were.

— — —

*You married Bucky in Romania pre-the events of CA:CW. You had been together as assets but only married once you were both free. 11 years comes from the years difference between CA:TWS and FATWS + 5 years for Blip. If this math is wrong, let me know!

— — —

Comments, reblogs, likes appreciated ❤️ asks are open!

— — —

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #x reader #fanfic #fanfic writing #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction

476 notes · View notes

zepskies · 1 month ago

Text

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Deep breaths Are you ready for a rollercoaster of emotions? 😘❤️

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 13.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, pregnancy feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, time jumps and flashbacks, sexual tension, mutual pining, spice~, and an ending…

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

At the doctor’s office, Dean goes in with you for the first trimester ultrasound. There you learn that you’re going to have a boy. Tears well up in your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

Dean wears a look of amazement as he sits on the edge of your bed. He takes up your hand and squeezes gently. He tries to be a strong support, even though he also tries to hide the fear that begins to churn in his gut.

For one of the first times in his life since Sam was born, he feels the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. In a good way. In a fucking scary way.

He looks at you and sees the wonder written across your face while you watch the tiny shape of your baby on the screen. His heartbeat thwaps fast and loud in the speakers.

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you're making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

With his weekly hookup rate, in the very back shelves of his mind he knew something like this could happen, even though he thought he'd been careful. (Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.) But here, in this white wall-to-wall room that smells like hospital antiseptic, that thwap thwap thwap of a heartbeat reverberating in his ears, the reality of this is crashing hard on his shoulders and rattling down to the base of his spine.

Despite his earlier happiness, those thoughts stay with him when you two eventually get back into his car. You have the pictures of the sonogram in your hands. You smile down at them before you put them back in your purse for safekeeping.

However, you notice Dean’s sudden melancholy as he stares out at the road. He’s started the car, but he hasn’t moved to pull out of the parking lot yet.

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you, incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat.

When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seeming sheepish, and guilty. “I meant to say thank you. Just didn’t know any other way to say it.”

After a moment, you smile at him. It’s warm and almost shy.

Dean clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his face is heating up. He doesn’t say anything more. He just takes the wheel and shifts gears, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

You don’t know what possesses you to bake cookies. Dozens and dozens of them, all the chocolate chip cookie recipes you can find. You’re in search of the perfect one. This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

And then, he’ll be ruined for any other chocolate chip cookies that try to grab his taste buds. He’ll say, Blech. Chips Ahoy? These aren’t as good as Mom makes!

…Or something like that.

Yes, these cookies have to be perfect. You’ll even write the ingredients down on a notecard and hide it away, and it’ll become your family secret recipe.

Once you feel like your cookie game is strong enough, you decide to test these babies out. You bring two dozen painstakingly baked confections to Firehouse 83, where Dean works. The man is a bottomless pit, to be sure, but you also want other people’s unbiased opinions. For science.

You park your car on the side of the road, making sure you’re not blocking the driveway where two huge fire trucks are parked. You head inside the firehouse with your big container under your arm and your purse on the other. Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

You’re still determined to be active though! You plan to keep working until you have the baby. Your parents live a few hours away, but you’re grateful that they want to help out as much as possible.

Even though they weren’t happy to hear about how you got pregnant, by now they've met Dean and begrudgingly admitted to liking him. He's really stepped up to the responsibility of a future father, insisting on baby-proofing your apartment, helping you shop for the essentials, and going with you to as many doctor’s appointments as he can. He’s even agreed to giving you child support payments, even though you hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

You look for him now as you enter the firehouse, trying to push the heavy glass door open with one hand.

“Here, I got you,” says a familiar baritone voice.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the man who helps you inside.

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

“Dean filled you in?” you ask. You hope so. Having to explain the story to one of his own friends would be embarrassing, especially since this is the man you walked in Sam’s wedding with. It reminds you of that day, and the way you told Dean that news in a glorified closet, with shaking hands and the wrong kind of butterflies.

Thankfully, Benny nods. “That he did…but come on, I’ll show you around. And I see you’ve brought somethin’ special for us?”

He gestures at the container you're holding and offers to take it off your hands. You give it to him, grateful for the help.

“Yeah, and I want you guys to give me your honest opinion.”

Benny tosses you a wink and a smile. “That I can do.”

Your cheeks begin to warm in a blush, but the way he helps you to a comfy couch in the common room earns your smile. There are still good men left in this world, and you’re glad to know that Dean works so well with one.

“You want some coffee, or water? Think we might have some lemonade,” Benny says.

“Water would be great, thank you,” you reply, as you rub your belly. The little man has decided to kick at your liver today. “I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

It's your biggest challenge, to be honest. Try wrangling a group of fifteen to twenty six-year-olds while running on green tea, the fumes of sleep deprivation, reduced bladder control, and as much vim as you can muster.

“Ah, right,” Benny nods. “My sister has two kids. She cut out coffee, pain meds, some dairy stuff. But she claimed cheesecake was all right, ‘cause it’s got cake in the name.”

You giggle. “I see no flaw in her logic.”

Down the hall of the firehouse, Dean is just coming back in from going through a set of drills. He’s still the Candidate—the freshest blood in the house—so they’ve been putting him through his paces for the past several months. He’s eager to learn and to prove himself.

His ears perk up in confusion though. Did he just hear your voice?

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

When he rounds the corner, he sees you in the common room, smiling and giggling like a teenager at something Benny said to you while he eats a soft baked cookie right out of a Tupperware container. You must’ve brought it for the firehouse.

This cozy little scene kind of annoys Dean somehow, though he doesn’t know why. He does know that it shouldn’t.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, forcing himself to smile. It becomes easier when you look his way, your eyes brightening at his arrival.

“There you are! Come ‘ere and try these,” you say, pointing at the box Benny holds. “Tell me if our son’s going to have the best PTA mom ever.”

Dean can’t help but grin after trying a big bite of one of your cookies.

“Oh, mah Gah,” he says, holding a hand under his mouth so nothing comes crumbling out.

“Good?” you ask.

“Good friggin’ cookie,” he confirms, after he swallows. “You’re gonna have the other parents frothing at the mouth. Who’s gonna be able to compete with this?”

Benny nods in agreement. When Dean squeezes your shoulder, your sweet, happy smile makes him smile too.

She’s going to be a good mom, he thinks. He can only hope against hope that he can be the man his son needs.

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

However, the embarrassment of him pointing out the fluid beginning to stain your slacks is swiftly cut off by your shock. Your first call is to the principal, to have her send someone to cover your class. Your next call is to Dean, telling him to meet you at the hospital.

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

You know you have no real reason to be upset. She’s been trying her best to be your friend in recent months. Hell, she helped Eileen and your mom plan your baby shower. She even brought you flowers when she got to the hospital, but you notice how less than five minutes after she got here, she and Dean became embroiled in yet another argument. It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

The sex must be explosive, like the fireworks at goddamn Disney World.

But Dean eventually does come back into the room alone. His support grounds you over the next few hours. He lets you basically break his hand, all while he gives you encouragement (and stands by your shoulder, so he doesn’t see anything you’d rather him not see).

And then, your son is born. Every muscle, every cell in your body is exhausted, but the pain meds have kicked in, and you’re in that blissed out state between abject reality and being entirely entranced by the bundle in your arms. His perfect face is just there, sleeping for the moment after the nurses taught you how to breastfeed.

Dean returns to sit in the chair beside you. He gives you some water and a piece of a protein bar. You’re not that hungry, but he pointed out that you haven’t eaten since before your water broke.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way up,” he says.

You nod in reply. You’re too into your son right now to think of anything else.

Dean shakes his head in wonder as he reaches out with a tentative hand, brushing his fingers over the baby’s downy head. He was born with a little tuft of brown hair.

“Okay, down to business,” Dean says, shooting you a playful look. “I vote for Zeppelin.”

You groan. “Dean, no. Veto. I’m not naming my son after a rock band.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

“Veto,” he snorts. You two agreed to getting five “vetos” each, but this discussion has been more like a battle of wills over the last several months.

“Okay, what about Daniel? That’s strong, classic,” you pose.

Dean considers it with a tilt of his head. “All right, that one’s a maybe.”

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile.

“You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently.

“Thanks,” he says.

Your eyes meet, and it’s a moment charged with something you can’t even name. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this feeling with him. It both fills your heart with warmth, and makes you ache.

Then the door opens. It’s Lisa, Sam, and Eileen. Dean’s hand slips away from yours as they all pour in to congratulate you and Dean, and of course, meet the baby. There’s a lot of soft cooing and playful shushing.

In that small chaos, your parents call to tell you that they’re finally almost here. It really sucked not having your mom with you, but your parents live far enough away that they were going to take a train and stay with you for at least a week. Their train unfortunately got delayed due to mechanical failure.

It's okay though. Getting through the past several hours has made you realize that you’re stronger and more capable than you think, and even though part of you is still scared to death, you don’t need a husband to be a good mom. You’re going to give this your all, no matter who’s beside you…

And that's no more apparent than when Dean soon has to step out again, leading Lisa out of the room. He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

It gets loud enough outside your hospital room that Sam and Eileen feel they have to intervene. Lisa is Eileen’s best friend, and she’s the best equipped to try and deescalate the argument from that end, while Sam deals with Dean. It’s messy, it’s irritating, and it means that even today, you can’t just have a little bit of peace.

You sigh and cradle your still nameless baby close to your chest. He’s all that matters. Already, your heart is so damn full just taking him in.

“What’s your name, my little love?” you whisper. “What am I going to write on your certificate, besides Winchester?”

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

You perk up and smile in surprise. “Benny, hey.”

He greets you with a slightly hesitant kiss on the cheek. He’s brought the baby an adorable teddy bear, and you a beautiful bouquet of white and blue roses, along with a box of chocolates.

“It’s the assorted kind, but they’ve got plenty of the caramel ones you like,” he says, then gazes down at the baby. “Aw, he’s a little charmer. Already got more of you than Dean, that’s for sure.”

You laugh lightly at his teasing. “I don’t know about that.” You hope your son inherits Dean’s strong jaw, and his green eyes.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

You shake your head and smile through burgeoning tears. You set the chocolates on the end table where he’s placed the flowers and the teddy bear.

“No, it’s very sweet. Thank you,” you say. You glance out the window of your room to the hallway, where the arguing between Dean, Lisa, Sam, and Eileen seems to finally be calming down. You’re so damn tired, you don’t give a crap about whatever they’re hashing out now.

You look down at your son, and despite your strong thoughts earlier, insecurity begins to creep back into your mind like inky claws.

“How are you holding up?” Benny asks. His face is kind and concerned when he notes the change in you.

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

You look down at your son, and you have to wipe away a tear from your eye before it falls on his face.

A large, warm hand rests over yours. Your gaze raises slowly, and Benny smiles at you. He’s serious though.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he says. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

FIVE YEARS LATER...

For all that changes, there are some things that stay the same.

Dean and Lisa are still the world’s most “off again, on again” couple you’ve ever met. Sam and Eileen are still going strong as the hardworking, driven career couple. Your son is growing more and more every day and just started kindergarten this year.

(You ultimately caved on Dean’s idea to name him Robert, as in Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin.)

Oh, yeah, and the “you and Benny” thing? That’s been going well for two years now.

What can you say? The man is persistent, but respectfully so. He’s considerate, reliable, and always calls you when work at the firehouse has him running late.

You haven’t yet invited him to move in with you. That part you’re still hesitant on, mostly because of your son, but Benny helps you drop off Robbie at school and makes breakfast for you all whenever he stays over your apartment. Benny takes an interest in your son’s life and keeps up with all his energy, taking him to the park to run himself ragged before dinner, and helping you tuck him in at night.

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

But Benny shows his caring in all those little things he does for you. They add up into the big things, and he makes you feel supported. He makes you feel safe.

He even helps you plan your son’s fifth birthday. Robbie wanted to go all out on a dinosaur theme; he’s been hooked on Jurassic Park ever since Benny “accidentally” let him watch it with him on one of your rare nights out with your friends.

So you set up a little party at the park by your apartment. You managed to reserve the biggest gazebo, where there are three picnic tables covered with dinosaur plates, and tablecloths, streamers in different shades of green. You even bought a big dinosaur cake—also in a radioactive green color that you hadn’t been sure about, but your son talked you into. Robbie thinks it’s awesome.

He’s running around on the playground with a few of his friends from school. Their parents (along with Sam, Eileen, and Lisa) are talking amongst themselves at one of the picnic tables while you try to figure out how to get the Bluetooth speaker to connect with your phone.

“Haha! Got it. If you're so smart, Alexa, why don't you connect on the first try?” You fist-pump the air triumphantly, just as Benny comes to your side. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek, making you smile.

“How’s it going out there?” you ask, nodding at the kids. Plus Dean, who’s gamely been the one to keep them entertained with different games. Right now, it’s a thrilling game of Cowboys and Outlaws, where Robbie and his friends are the cowboys, and Dean is the outlaw. He’s been hiding under the slide, behind trees and other playground fixtures, while the kids have little squirt guns to pelt him with water every time they find him.

It's pretty damn cute, and you’ve been taking pictures. You smile at the sight of Dean leaping out at Robbie and the kids, catching them off guard.

“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff!” Dean declares.

“Oh, it’s goin’,” Benny remarks with an amused shake of his head. “Still hard to believe that guy’s about to make it to Lieutenant.”

“Hahaaa, gotcha!!” Dean cackles. He’s grabbed up Robbie and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Robbie screeches with laughter while his dad runs around the playground, being chased by a bunch of five-year-olds with squirt guns.

Your smile threatens to make your cheeks hurt. You know your life is…unconventional, to say the least, but Dean is a good father to your son. He’s also been working hard at his job. He just took the Lieutenant’s test, and even though Benny already occupies that position at Firehouse 83, a spot at another firehouse might open up for Dean to transfer.

“Part of me doesn’t want to,” Dean admitted to you last week, while he was working on fixing your stubborn, leaky sink. “All the guys there, they’re like family, you know?” “I understand,” you nodded. “You have to do what feels best for you, whether that’s staying where you feel comfortable, or moving up in your career somewhere else. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” He took in your advice with a slow nod. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I have to time to think about it. Lisa had other ideas.” “Of course,” you said with a smile, but it soon dropped. “Why, what did she say?” “Do what I can to move up,” he sighed. “She’s got a point. That title comes with a pay bump, one I could really use right now.” “I get that. Totally valid,” you said. “But I just think it’s important for you to be happy with it too. Especially with what you do, helping people, saving people…I’d imagine being in the right mindset for all that is important, right? Who you work with can be just as important as the money stuff.” Dean considered you with a smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

As you think about it now, you have to admit that he’s grown up a lot.

Dean has to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Am I already getting too old for this crap?

Feels kind of young to have a stitch in his side after a few rounds with these kids, but even he has his limits. Lisa comes to bring him a bottle of ice-cold water, which he appreciates. He’s tempted to dump it over his head like he does after successfully neutralizing a fire. It gets literally hot as hell under that helmet and mask and all his gear underneath.

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

“Toss in a new pair of knees, thanks,” he wheezes. He downs half the water bottle in one go, but he smiles at seeing his son keep running around with his friends. He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

Dean hopes his son likes the new model car set that’s waiting for him on the picnic table full of presents. In fact, he’s still surprised that you didn’t go with the race car theme he suggested for the party, but apparently, Robbie’s more into dinosaurs now. Dean wishes he knew that before he bought the model car set.

He looks over and catches sight of you and Benny wrapped up in each other. He has his arm around your waist while you fiddle with something, but the way you lean over and whisper near his ear elicits a smile on Benny’s face.

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

“Well, don’t they seem cozy,” he mutters.

Lisa arches a manicured brow. “Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting ready to propose.”

That earns Dean’s attention, his head swiveling back to her in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

“His sister,” she replies. “Meg’s in my intermediate class, remember?”

Dean nods, sipping at his water, even though he’s a bit absent in the eyes. Lisa watches him shrewdly.

“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asks. “Benny’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dean says. He doesn’t need that reminder, or the guilty twinge. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“And she seems happy,” Lisa points out. “Don’t you want the mother of your kid to be with a good man who treats her right?”

He nods, trying to hide his growing annoyance. “‘Course I do. I just…I don’t know. I still don’t see them together, I guess.”

“Well, they’ve been together for like, two years.”

Again, Dean nods his acknowledgement. It’s hard for him to believe that so much time has passed already. He honestly didn’t think you and Benny would be together this long. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Lisa sighs and grabs his arm, pulling him aside before he can rejoin the party.

“Listen, we need to talk about something,” she says.

Dean restrains a tired groan. “Can this wait ‘til later?”

“I think we should do this now,” she says. A hallmark Lisa-ism. She’s opinionated and strong-willed, something Dean’s always respected about her. Sometimes though, the timing is damn irritating. He doesn’t want to get into another argument with his girlfriend in public, especially not at his son’s birthday party.

“Speaking of commitment,” she says with a sigh. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been on a five-year rollercoaster, you and I. You know why that is?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Dean says, crossing his arms.

“It’s because you’re spread too thin,” she says. “Between the firehouse, construction jobs on the side…not to mention other things.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Lisa’s lips purse, before she pointedly gestures over at you with her eyes. “Well, for example. You’re still going to her place after your next shift to fix her fridge, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, should be pretty simple. I’ve just gotta swing by the hardware store and grab this specialty tool I ordered—”

“Dean,” Lisa deadpans. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She heaves a deep breath, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

“I get that navigating this situation hasn’t been easy for you,” she says. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, but look.”

Lisa takes his hands in hers, uncrossing his arms. “I want to get married someday. I want kids too. And I want that kind of life with you…I’m just not sure you want it with me.”

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

“Don’t answer me right now,” she says, but she levels him with a serious look. “You need to decide though, Dean. Five years is long enough. You should know by now if you want to be with me.”

After letting go of his hands, she softens the edges of her words with a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she turns to join the group now gathered around the picnic table where the food is, all the kids cheering for pizza and cake.

After the party, Sam, Eileen, Lisa, and Benny pack up their cars and yours with the leftover food, party supplies, and presents. Dean helps you clean up the trash, all while keeping an eye on Robbie getting out the last of his sugar-high on the playground swing.

You shake your head tiredly, if with a fond smile. “That kid’s gonna be up all night hype on that radioactive cake.”

Dean chuckles. “You want me to take him tonight?”

“It’s okay. I think he’s going to want to play with his toys,” you reply.

“Well, he could just as easily do that at my place,” he reasons.

You consider it, but you shake your head. “Yeah, but we got him the bike. He’s probably gonna want to try it out for a few minutes before we get him cleaned up.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean you and Benny,” Dean says, his tone becoming surly. “And about that. Don’t you think a bike is something you should run by me? That’s typically a ‘dad’ kind of gift.”

You pause what you’re doing at the sound of his tone. Your brows knit together.

“Sorry, but I feel like a bike isn’t exclusively a dad thing,” you say.

“My dad got me my first bike,” Dean replies. “Spent a whole three days teaching me how to ride.”

You take a minute to think about it. You understand where Dean’s coming from, so you nod.

“Okay, I get it. You want to be there to help teach Robbie? I’m sure he’d love that.”

Dean tosses a wadded-up ball of frosting-covered napkins and stops, letting his hands fall to his sides in frustration. He draws closer and helps you untie the balloons from the picnic table.

“Yeah, I do, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Why can’t I take him home tonight?”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Well, like I said. The bike—”

“That I should’ve gotten for him,” he snaps. “Which, let me guess, Benny picked out. Right?”

You frown at him in earnest now. “Dean, why are you getting so upset about it? It’s just a bike.”

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.”

You turn toward him, trying to put a cap on your own annoyance. This isn’t the first time you two have had a conversation like this.

“We’ve gone over this before, Dean. Your schedule at the firehouse is just too unpredictable,” you say. “Robbie needs as much stability as possible between us. But…okay, if you want to take him tonight, that’s fine. We can bring the bike over to your place and show it to him there.”

You’re trying to be as reasonable as possible, and Dean knows that. Still, anger prickles just under his skin, and he can’t help but push his luck.

“You still should’ve asked be before you got the bike in the first place,” he argues.

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, it’s not like we bought him a Honda Civic. Honestly, Dean, why are you picking a fight with me right now?” you ask. “Did you and Lisa get into it again or something?”

Dean looks away and crosses his arms, giving you all the confirmation you need.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod. “I saw you two over there on the playground, looked pretty heated. But do me a favor. Don’t come at me with that energy, because I’m too damn tired of it!”

When you walk away from him, Dean can’t help but stare after you. He knows he fucked that up, just as he knows that you don’t deserve him snapping at you. He’s just too irritated to admit it.

For the entire week that follows, Dean finds himself distracted. He sticks to his word and helps Benny teach his son how to ride a bike in between their shifts at the firehouse, but Dean comes home each night feeling even more frustrated and drained than before. It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

These thoughts follow Dean to work, even while he climbs up the firetruck ladder in the rain. It’s parallel to a busted utility pole that still sparks with electricity, even in this torrential downpour. His task is to get up to the top and grab a large branch that’s tangled in the lines.

Rung after rung, he climbs. His safety mask protects his eyes from the rain, but he wishes they had some mini windshield wipers to keep his vision clear of the droplets pelting him in the face.

He also can’t help thinking of you. If Lisa’s right, then Benny’s about to become a more permanent fixture in Robbie’s life, and yours.

Okay fine. It’s not like Dean expected you to be single forever, but did you really have to get with one of his best friends? Does it really have to be Benny, who seems so natural with Robbie, and more patient than Dean, and more of a support to you and Robbie than Dean can ever be?

And then there’s Lisa’s little ultimatum. He understands why she’s frustrated with him. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long. He knows she’s not going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together. For him to decide, as she put it.

It’s not that he’s not sure about her, it’s just that…

Just that what? he wonders.

He manages to grab the wily tree branch and maneuver it out of the power lines.

He just doesn’t realize that his glove doesn’t have quite enough friction on the metal side panel of the ladder. Not only does his hand slip, but he’s forced to let go of the branch while he loses his balance. The branch falls to the sidewalk, far, far down below.

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

Holding Robbie’s hand tightly in yours is the only thing keeping you steady as you lead him through the hospital. After the receptionist had checked you both in and gave you the room number, you hastened down the hall and up to the right floor. 2005.

Robbie breaks into tears when he finally gets to see his dad, laid up though he is in his hospital bed. Your throat tightens at the sight of Dean hooked up to all those monitors. He has his arm wrapped up and fitted into a sling. He has a thick piece of gauze taped to the side of his face, covering a wide, angry abrasion, but he seems to be resting easy on his back. The bed is at an incline, with most of the overhead lights turned off.

Robbie rushes to the bed before you can stop him. He hesitantly touches Dean’s non-injured right hand. “Daddy?”

“Robbie, wait,” you say, keeping your voice quiet. You quickly go over to the bedside and grab ahold of Robbie’s shoulders, but Dean takes a deep breath. His eyelids crack open.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, attempting a smile. His voice is rough and weak, but at least he’s awake.

Robbie’s lower lip wobbles as tears fill his eyes again.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says, a little stronger. When he reaches out to his son, the kid hops up onto the bed and buries his face into his father’s chest. Dean holds him as securely as he can, soothing his hand over the boy’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay, little man. ‘M okay,” he promises. Robbie nods, but he still continues to cry.

You can’t help but do the same. Tears slip down your cheeks without your consent. Dean beckons you over too, gesturing with his chin and a slight smile. You’re more tentative in the way you sit down at the edge of his bed. You run your fingers through Robbie’s light brown hair to help reassure him. Then, you meet Dean’s gaze and lay a hand on his good shoulder. You don’t know whether you’re steadying him, or yourself.

“How do you feel?” you ask. “The hospital called me. Benny told me what happened.”

The thought reminds you to text your boyfriend. You hadn’t had a chance to tell him you made it here yet. He must be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat, because he’s the one who rode with Dean in the ambulance and has been with him for a while.

“The hospital called you?” Dean notes in slight confusion.

“Eileen told me that Sam is in court right now, so I must’ve been next on the list,” you say. He also must have taken Lisa off his emergency list the last time they broke up for almost a month. He probably forgot to update it again.

You reach out a hand to almost touch the bandage by his temple. Instead, you hesitantly hold the side of his face to see the area better. Dean closes his eyes for a moment. You can see he’s in pain. Your hand lingers on his cheek, but you know, deep down, that it shouldn’t.

Dean doesn’t stop you though. He lets out a deep breath, savoring how nice the gentle touch feels when the rest of his body feels battered to hell.

“Fell off the ladder. Was a stupid rookie move,” he explains, but when he sees that look on your face, he tries to inject a little more joking into a smile. “S’ not so bad.”

“You could’ve broken your head as well as your arm,” you say, more sharply than you mean to.

Robbie whimpers and clings tighter to Dean. You cover your mouth, as if you can trap the words back inside. You don’t want to upset your son more than he already is, so you fall silent. Another tear works its way down your cheek, but you brush it away. Dean shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he reassures you too. He manages to smile as he pats Robbie’s back. “Right, buddy?”

The boy’s head perks up. His eyes are still shiny, but he smiles too. He’s not one to speak when he’s upset though, so he just curls up against Dean’s chest and hangs onto him. Dean rests his good arm snugly around him.

You smile and stroke Robbie’s back. Though your hand lowers, resting on Dean’s hand. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Dean’s fingers curl around yours, prompting you to glance up into his eyes. The way he’s watching you is soft, grateful.

Until the door creaks open. Benny steps in with a subtle clearing of his throat. You jolt internally, and you slip your hand away from Dean’s. You offer your boyfriend a wan smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, baby.” He comes over and greets you with a kiss to the side of your head. He smiles at your son gently. “The gang’s all here.”

“Oh! Let me call Sam, and Lisa too. They still don’t know what’s going on,” you say. You get up from the bed to grab your phone out of your purse. Dean nods in agreement and thanks you, while Robbie plays with his dad's long fingers.

“How you holdin’ up, brother?” Benny asks, after you step out of the room. He settles into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“Ah, you know me. I’m like a cat. Always stick the landing,” Dean says, smiling lazily. The morphine is starting to kick in again.

Benny smirks. “Maybe you do got nine lives, the amount of close calls you like gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean’s good humor fades. He considers his son in his arms, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, no more,” he says. He got a taste of what it would be like to leave his boy behind, and he’s not fucking doing it. He’s not leaving you to raise Robbie by yourself. The mere idea tears a new hole in his heart.

His eyes sting just enough that he has to blink a bit harder, swallowing past a thick well of emotion in his throat. He presses another kiss to the top of Robbie’s head. Then, Dean meets Benny’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it.

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

When Lisa steps off the hospital elevator on the second floor, you happen to be coming out of the bathroom to fix your racoon eyes. You’ve been crying way too much. You attempt to greet Lisa with something reassuring, but she cuts you off.

“What happened, and why didn’t the hospital call me directly?” she asks.

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

“Well, Sam and I were listed as his emergency contacts—”

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you can’t help it. You’re too tired and emotionally drained to lasso in your temper with this woman.

“Maybe if you and Dean stayed together longer than five minutes at a time, he’d put you back on the short list,” you sling back. “But the truth is, you’ve never just…been there for Dean. Not without demanding something from him.”

Lisa scoffs incredulously. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re the reason he can’t commit to anything. You think your little world is the only one that matters, and you call Dean for any little thing! What, don’t you have a boyfriend to help fix your goddamn sink?”

You open your mouth to retort, but you pause as her words seep into your mind. She might actually have a small point about that one. You realize then just how often you’ve been asking Dean for his help, not just with your apartment, but with your car, and other logistical things that usually have to with Robbie. Dean’s just such a good handyman, and you thought he genuinely liked being able to help…even though Benny did mention once or twice that he’d be just as happy to help you.

“Lisa, this is a lot more than a leaky sink. I just wanted to get here with Robbie and make sure Dean was okay,” you try to explain.

“Good. I’m glad his son was the first person Dean got to see when he woke up,” Lisa says. “But I should’ve been the second.”

She brushes past you before you can even think of what to say. You’re in a state of shock, feeling guilty, incensed, and on the verge of tears all at once.

A familiar voice calls your name, and you turn to Benny just as those tears begin to fall. He gathers you up into his arms and holds you there in the middle of the hallway.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, no matter how high tensions are today. I’ll talk to Dean,” Benny says. You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, clenching your fingers in his red flannel shirt.

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, despite the sob that shudders through you. You’ve lost the will to fight.

Benny shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It ain’t okay, baby.”

“Please, don’t bother Dean with this. Especially not right now,” you say. You take a moment to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself. “I’m gonna go get Robbie so Dean can rest.”

You can’t shake the feeling that Lisa is right. You do rely on Dean too much. You just don’t want to think about why that is.

Dean makes a full recovery after a few months. He never does hear about what happened in that hallway, but he knows that things need to change.

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything.

He’s making a firm decision, and he thinks it’s the right one. He wants to be there for his son, but he doesn’t want to keep “spreading himself too thin.” He has to figure out how to set some roots, and some boundaries with you while he’s at it. He’ll just have to come to terms with the idea that he won’t get to be there for everything.

He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad.

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the past few months keeping yourself in check as well. You’ve stopped calling Dean for help whenever something breaks down in your old-ass apartment. You try to keep your conversations less about life and troubles and whatever funny thing your students did that day in class, and more focused on Robbie–strictly about his schedule and his needs.

It’s kind of painful, if you’re honest with yourself. Sam will always be one of your closest friends from college, but in the past five years, Dean has truly become your best friend. Because you’ve told him things. The things that come from sharing a child with someone, like Sunday dinners with your parents, flipping through old yearbooks and childhood pictures—and the details of day-to-day schedules and little stupid things that happen in moments between moments.

Dean also knows the deep cuts. Like being pregnant and scared and breaking down crying on the side of the road. Like sharing the deepest well of your insecurities with someone who knows your body intimately, even if just for one amazing night...a night you’ve never quite been able to put out of your mind.

However, you know that things can’t stay the same. From now on, he just needs to be your son’s father. Nothing more, nothing less.

So today, on a crisp April 24th, you’re getting ready for a highly anticipated evening with your boyfriend. Robbie is sleeping over your parents’ house, and Benny has been planning something special for your third-year anniversary.

You slip into your new dress, a deep emerald green, with a pair of black heels you’ve rarely worn since before you got pregnant. Come to think of it, you were wearing these the night of Sam and Eileen’s bachelor-bachelorette party. The night you…well, the night Robbie was conceived.

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You even consider changing.

You’re being silly, you shake your head. They’re just shoes.

And yet. Thinking of that time so long ago, it reminds you of a recent Sunday dinner at your parents’ house.

Two Months Ago...

Your parents live modestly, but comfortably in rural Kansas. Their ranch-style home boasts a creek in the backyard, where your dad is teaching your son how to catch minnows. Your mom is inside working on an apple pie, knowing it’s both Dean’s and Robbie’s favorite.

You and Dean have kept close to the house under the shade, sitting on a bench made more comfortable by a pair of old polyester cushions with red, faded flowers.

“How much longer do you have to wear that?” you ask Dean. He glances down at his cast-covered left arm.

“Doc says it’s about ready to come off,” he says.

You nod, allowing yourself a certain smile. “How bad are you itching to grab my mom’s garden shears and cut it off right here?”

“Woman, don’t tempt me,” he says, his lips twitching at a grin. “I’ve been eying those overgrown scissors for the past half hour.”

You laugh and take another sip of your glass. Yours holds sweet tea, while Dean’s has some of your dad’s favorite whiskey. You both raise your heads when Robbie yells across the backyard.

“I caught a minnow!”

“Good job, buddy,” Dean grins. “See if you can catch a marlin!”

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

“Yeah, like that orange guy in Finding Nemo,” Dean calls back.

Your dad gives Dean the same wry look you do, though yours is tinged with more amusement.

“Dean, that’s a clown fish,” you say. “He’s not gonna find that in the creek.”

“Aw, shit,” he tries to quiet his laugh. “Ah well, should keep him occupied for another twenty minutes.”

You bite your lip to stifle your laughter as well. Though something else occurs to you the longer you watch your son play and explore in the creek. Your dad has the patience of a saint as he puts yet another bait worm on the hook for the kid.

“He’s starting to ask questions, you know,” you tell Dean, in a quieter voice. “‘Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together?’”

Dean's brows raise. His good humor dims when he looks over at you.

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

You take in a deep breath, considering your words now as carefully as you did with your son.

“That we care about each other a lot, as friends,” you say, meeting Dean’s eyes. “And we love Robbie very much. Nothing’s going to change that, even if you and I aren’t together like a normal mom and dad.”

Saying it like that makes your heart twinge, for more than one reason. The way Dean’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile just makes it worse, but you try your best to ignore it.

“I never thought about having to explain it to him,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

It’s that anxious tell of his again. You notice every time he does it.

“I have,” you admit. “I just didn’t know for sure what I was going to say until it was coming out of my mouth.”

Dean smirks a little. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

You roll your eyes and sip your drink, crossing your arms as well. Dean considers you then, looking at you in a way that makes you raise a brow in question.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He sits back against the bench and rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “For the record, I did try to ask you out once.”

“What?” you scoff incredulously. “No, you’ve been with Lisa since the beginning.”

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

He isn’t joking. He isn’t teasing. He’s serious as he stares back at you with those green eyes of his. Your brows furrow as you wrack your brain. Did he drunkenly leave you a voicemail on one of those “off again” episodes between him and Lisa? No. You know you’d remember something like that.

“It was a few weeks after the bachelor party,” Dean says. “I called you up, remember?”

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Dean, you did not ask me out,” you say. “You wanted to hook up. There’s a distinct difference.”

Dean frowns at you. “No, I was. I invited you over—”

“For essentially some Netflix and chill,” you retort.

“Hey, I offered to make you dinner,” he argues. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up.”

You pause at that. His earnest denial makes you actually think back to what you remember about that conversation on the phone.

You cover your lips with your fingers as you begin to realize…

“That was you asking me out?” you ask incredulously.

Dean’s brows furrow and he throws his hands up. “What? Who doesn’t like a little movie night?”

“Dean,” you huff another laugh. “You could’ve made it sound more like a date.”

“Well, ‘scuse me. Sorry I couldn’t afford the Ritz at the time,” he grumbles.

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

The more you think about it, the more you just shake your head at yourself. Why did you have to overthink it, like you do everything?

“Wow,” you say, softer and more contrite. “I honestly never thought…”

“Yeah,” he says. He shifts his gaze out ahead.

You glance over at him, now more unsure of yourself. He wouldn’t have any regrets, you think. He has Lisa. As much as they go at it, they always inevitably get back together. And now you know they hired a realtor. They’re about to start making solid steps forward.

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

He doesn’t finish it, but you think you know what he’s asking. You hesitate, your fingers flexing around your glass that beads with condensation. You set the glass down beside you.

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

“All right, pie is cooling and dinner is served!” your mom calls out. Her head pokes out of the sliding glass door to the backyard. You offer a smile, trying to hide how you jolted in your seat.

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

You turn back to Dean, who also hesitates. His eyes meet yours, but all too soon, he locks the moment away.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he rocks to his feet and goes out to get Robbie and help your dad bring in the fishing gear.

You grab Dean’s whiskey along with your tea on your way back inside the house. You consider the amber liquid disturbed in his glass, and you down the rest yourself. The burn down your throat is a good distraction. If he asks about it, you’ll say you got the glasses confused.

You know you’ll have to leave that conversation unfinished at the foot of the bench.

Now...

Benny comes by your apartment and helps you into the passenger side of his pickup truck, like the gentleman he is. He takes you to a nice restaurant in downtown, much nicer than the usual sports bar or kid-friendly restaurant. You're very much looking forward to eating at a restaurant that doesn't feature chicken fingers or "kiddie" corn dogs.

“This is gonna be really expensive,” you whisper to him, after he hands his keys over to the valet.

Benny squeezes your hand in his, leaning over to kiss your temple.

“Don’t you worry about that. We both deserve a night out.” His blue eyes gleam with amusement. However, his gaze gentles, becoming more sincere. “You work hard, carin’ for everybody around you. How about you let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes begin to water, your throat constricting with emotion. You rub his arm gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

It’s always easy with Benny. Nice and simple and easy. Nice, supportive, and considerate.

Nice and safe.

That thought follows you while you and Benny walk into to the restaurant. He’s reserved great seats in the back corner, overlooking a beautiful courtyard. It’s decorated with hydrangeas and light wood dining tables, all framed with a rod iron archway as the sun begins to set just so. After holding your chair out for you before he sits himself, Benny orders a bottle of champagne to kick things off.

He turns to you with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes, like he's steeling himself. It’s uncharacteristic of Benny, who’s always so calm and charming and sure of himself. It makes a zing of anticipation run down your spine, and…a dash of fear. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how to beat the feeling down as you fidget in your seat.

He subtly clears his throat, then takes your hand. “Sweetheart, I know I’m not all that good at the words you’re supposed to say. But I can say that the past three years with you and Robbie, it’s come to mean the world to me.”

Your smile softens. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, encouraged by your reaction.

“So I think it’s time I made it clear where I stand, and how much I want to be the man in your life,” he says.

Your eyes begin to widen in shock, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

You point over his shoulder, and Benny turns to follow your line of vision. Dean and Lisa have just walked into the restaurant. They notice you pointing their way, and they both pause in surprise as well. Lisa is beautiful as usual in a slinky black dress, completely backless (something you feel you could never pull off, unless you had an invisible bra to keep the girls perked up).

Dean is…well, you’ve very rarely seen him in a suit, but charcoal gray works for him. The open collar and white buttoned-down works for him, as do the three top buttons he’s left undone, showing a tantalizing strip of tanned skin. He stares back at you like he forgot you live in the same time zone, let alone the same zip code.

“Uh, hey!” he casts out an awkward wave, before he makes his way over to you and Benny. Lisa is less than enthused.

“We shouldn’t interrupt their night,” you catch her whisper to him, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear her.

“What’s up, party people! Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Dean says, a little too loudly when he thumps Benny on the back. Benny grunts, giving a bit of a forced chuckle.

“Dean,” he greets. “I think I told you about this particular gin joint. Good to see you can actually clean up once in a while.”

“Ah, you know what, this monkey suit ain’t too bad,” Dean says, pulling at his collar.

You smirk in amusement. “Yeah, I remember how much you complained about wearing a simple tie for Robbie’s Christmas pageant.”

He smirks down at you. “Hey, ties still might not be my thing, but nothing wrong with a sharp collar.”

He pops his for emphasis. You don’t know why it makes you laugh, but it does. Maybe it’s just his face and the silly, endearing expression he makes when he pouts his lips in a “blue steel.”

“So, is this just a night out, or you guys celebrating something special?” Dean asks, gesturing at the champagne bottle and your full glasses of bubbly.

Benny gives his friend a certain look. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Today’s three years.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile back at him, though you’re a bit self-conscious at the way both he and Dean, and even Lisa have their attention on you.

“We should let you guys get back to it then,” Lisa says.

Honestly, it’s a relief. You and Benny nod, wishing them a goodnight.

For some reason, you notice how Dean’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But he goes with Lisa, laying a hand on the small of her back. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from them and refocus on Benny. You take up your champagne glass and raise it in offering.

“All right, where were we?” you ask, if with a nervous trill in your belly.

Benny smiles. He takes up his glass and clinks it with yours.

Lisa nearly sighs. She and Dean are back in line at the front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. The second time she catches Dean glancing over at the table where you and Benny sit, she shakes her head and digs into her purse for the valet card. She’s done with this.

“I think maybe we should go to a different restaurant,” she says.

That finally earns Dean’s attention, mostly confused. “What, why?”

She just gives him a long look.

He realizes that whatever her reasons are, it’s easier to just give in than to fight her on it. He’s learning when to pick his battles. Or is he just giving up?

Also, if tonight’s “the night” he thinks it is for you and Benny, maybe he doesn’t want to stick around after all. Three years, huh?

“All right, fine. Let’s go,” he agrees.

Dean and Lisa wait for the valet to bring the Impala around. The minute he gets behind the wheel and turns the key into the ignition, she changes her mind.

“Look, let’s just go home,” she says. “I don’t really feel like eating out anymore.”

Dean’s brows raise. “What? Aw, come on. We’re already dressed and everything. You look great, Lis. Just tell me where you wanna eat.”

Lisa remains firm, with a small shake of her head. “Please, Dean, just take me home.”

After a moment of indecision, Dean sighs. He revs the ignition and does as she says.

It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to their apartment, but in that stifling silence, it seems to drag on for a small eternity. He glances at her a couple of times. Lisa has her arms crossed as she stares out the window, watching the other restaurants and mom-and-pops shops and forest trees and old houses of Lebanon, Kansas go by.

Dean counts it a blessing when they’re finally home. He walks up the few short steps up to their ground-floor apartment and unlocks the door. He flicks on the lights inside, and she breezes past him to toss her purse onto the couch.

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head.

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time.

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there.

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself.

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be.

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh.

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip.

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask.

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.”

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes.

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself.

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks.

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly.

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.”

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really.

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little.

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes.

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you.

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free.

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister.

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad.

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends.

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases.

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it.

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean.

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

So please let me know what you thought! 😘

⋆˙⟡ Keep Reading: The Epilogue

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @kaleldobrev

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdeanwrites @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @redhoodieone

376 notes · View notes

the-xolotl · 11 months ago

Text

What a Bloody Mess !

Alastor x Fem!Reader

ღ a/n: a special gift for my friend Cass over at the discord server~ thank you for the delicious idea. this is def a lil self-indulgent hehe

summary: Alastor's cannibalistic cravings go further than you initially thought. And he's gotten a particular appetite for you this time around.

ღ TAGS: no use of y/n, explicit fem anatomy descriptions, cunnilingus, menstrual oral, oral (fem receiving), scent kink, blood play, face sitting, courting rituals if you squint, scenting, primal habits (? kinda), Al mentions your fertility, explicit depiction of menstruation and ovulation, dubcon.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you~♡

The past two weeks have been hell, ironically. The days leading up to your monthly cycle are always annoying and uncomfortable, not only because of the hormonal imbalance and emotional instability but because of the physical symptoms. Starting with ovulation being a drag, walking around with the constant squelching wetness between your thighs for an entire week that makes you feel embarrassed, it’s ridiculous, it makes you feel like you’re in heat—like an animal. Every step makes you grimace, unable to look anyone in the eye. Let’s not even mention the various lusty, dirty, lewd impulsive thoughts that came with it, the carnal need to be filled; You’re more nervous than usual but despite that, you try to push yourself to be sociable around the hotel.

But you only come to regret it when you notice a certain Radio Demon hanging around you. Like, a lot. Alastor is already usually very cordial and gentlemanly toward you, that’s just who he is and you’ve never given him a reason not to be, however, as of a few days ago, Alastor had been hovering over your general area; often standing or sitting next to you, striking up conversations, teasing you more than usual. What caught you off guard the most were the little acts of service he did. Even offering to accompany you places so you didn’t have to go alone. It came off as protective… And in an odd way possessive. Also, he seemed irritated anytime anyone else grabbed your attention away from him, not very obviously or outwardly so, but noticeable enough because you were so used to watching his behavior you could pick up on it.

You also noticed fewer people approached you, especially if he was around or with you. It was definitely odd behavior from the radio host to be in constant contact with you. And being you’re currently struggling with your own “issues”, it’s annoying and unpleasant having Alastor following you around. Because the idea that anyone could possibly smell the blood on you made you feel gross, even if realistically that’s not very likely. But the worst of it was by far when your actual period started. It felt awkward, your hormones were ramped up to a thousand, peak horny but not being able to relief yourself and not wanting to deal with the mess.

To avoid Alastor you opt to stay locked up in your room, occasionally going down to the kitchen to get a snack or some proper food. And that seemed to work for a little, until he showed up at your door with the excuse that he hadn’t seen you around very much, and became a little worried for you. So here he is standing at your hotel door, “I appreciate the concern, Al, I really do but right now just isn’t a great time—” there’s a hurry in your voice as you try to press him away from the door frame, trying to close it or get him to take a hint but this is the Radio Demon you’re talking about.

“Dear, it’s my job to ensure the comfort and happiness of all hotel residents, including you” his smile grew more conspicuous, instead he used the close proximity to wrap and arm around your lower back to keep you trapped against him. His face inches closer to you, sharp eyes fixed on your blushed face. You tried to recoil away from him but he’s got you pressed chest to chest—well, your chest to his torso more like because he’s stupidly tall— and his entire expression darken. Like he had planned this, like you had fallen into a carefully laid out plan. Heat rose up further up your cheeks and spread through your entire body as you still squirmed in his arms.

“Alastor please, I’m not playing your games anymore. I-I really want to be alone right now,” you can’t help the stutter in your voice. His warmth is so inviting, the way you fit perfectly against him you want nothing more than to be wrapped up in him. In more ways than one, especially with that hand that’s gently thumbing your hip as a means to soothe you. The demon leans in closer still, small cracks of feedback become louder as his mouth graces the shell of your ear and you swear you’re losing your mind. Because as is, he’s putting minimal strength to keep you where you are, so your mind wonders what else he could do, how much more could he make you do if he really tried. It send a shiver down your spine at the thought of feeling those slender claws digging into your flesh—

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” that velvety voice is enticing, it’s making your already fuzzy brain even more hazy. No, is the honest truth you want to give him. Yet, the last shred of reason nags at you to not let the horny thoughts win. However, that thin thread is about to snap with how insistent Alastor is being. “Let me help you with your… Little predicament, darling,” the lilt in his voice is playful, alluring. Your body goes stiff, though.

“What are you talking about?” you ask nervously. The deer chuckles pulling away and fixing his low-lidded eyes once again on yours, those ruby eyes that seem to look into the darkest depths of your soul with a single glance. You feel paralyzed both from fear and anticipation awaiting his answer.

His free hand comes up to your belly, oh-so gently rubbing the expand of your abdomen. It makes you shudder, your gaze falls down to his hands curious and oddly aroused by the gesture. He doesn’t answer immediately and even when he does it’s not direct. “Last week while going about the hotel as I usually do… I caught a scent I had never quite smelled before. Sweet yet tart. I had wondered for hours on end where it could have possibly come from and how it came and went,” He explained slowly, as slowly as his hand rubbed your abdomen in wide patterns, “Until I realized it came and went as you did. You, little one, have been driving me insane for d̸̞̖̹̎̃̉͊͛̾͗̊̍͘̚a̴̢̼͔̗̬͚̺̠͖̹͔͕͈̭̳͒y̴̧̻̹͙̰̭̽̔̄͂̑̂̈́̔̂̋̌̀́͝s̸̨̙̲̰̲̞̯̖̮̪͌́̽͂͝.”

His voice became much more grave and the radio filter intensified, both hands grabbing at your waist tightly, almost painfully. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs together feeling a warm liquid start to pool. In a panic you tried to snap out of his grasp but that only made him hold on tighter. Did his hands grow? but you don’t have time to wonder how his two hands encircled your entire waist because he’s lifting you up as if you weigh nothing but a couple of grapes, then your back is against something soft— your mattress you suppose— and Alastor with elongated antlers, his body bigger than he normally is and eyes turned to radio dials. You should be fucking scared shitless but seeing his demonic form makes your cunt clench around nothing. There’s no helping you really.

Tendrils sprout around your sheets to hold you where you lay, his large hands come to encircle your thighs spreading them. “Alastor wait! Wait a second!” your face is hot and bright red, “I’m— Oh Satan don’t make me say it,” tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Your mind is torn in half because dear unholy hell you needed relief, you haven’t been able to cum or touch there because of your messy little predicament but the shame of Alastor seeing the mess is too much.

Alastor laughs pushing your legs apart and further up nearly folding you in half, “Oh I know. I’m a cannibal, pretty girl, I can handle a little blood, now will you allow me to drink from you? You smell positively ripe for the taking,” Alastor presses his face against your still clothed pussy taking in the scent he’s been chasing for almost two weeks.

The action unconsciously made you moan, “Yes, yes fine!” your eyes squeezed tightly feeling entirely too shy and embarrassed to even look at him. His words made your heart skip a beat, this had to be the oddest form of cannibalism— Does it count?— you’ve ever seen, heard of or otherwise. For Alastor, that was all he needed. He’s now a one track minded being with nothing to stop his hunger until it is sated.

He quickly did away with your panties, but not before pressing the fabric against his nose one last time before disregarding it somewhere on the floor, your needy sex twitching for attention. It made you look away from him too many emotions bubbling inside you, it’s a little overwhelming how fast it’s happening and what is happening. It’s dawning on you that Alastor is asking to eat you out, to taste the blood—

Your thoughts are interrupted again but his tentacles lifting you up, Alastor had laid down at some point you hadn’t realized and you were being positioned right on top of his face. You tried to hover out of habit but Alastor wouldn’t let you, his radio voice crackled again, “Oh no, darling. Ỹ̵͇͕̕ō̸̪̟͐ȕ̸͇͎̆ ̶͈̃̂a̸̯̿r̶͓̈́̇e̴̱͑̓ ̵̡͈̿g̴̨͠ò̴̲͖ḯ̸̹n̶̢͚̈́͂g̷͇̎ ̷͖̅t̶̳͇̉̄ǫ̵̫̈́ ̵̮͚̋s̸̘͐͋i̴̜̓t̵̲͌̍,” using his hands he pushed you down on his waiting tongue and held you there as he didn’t hesitate to lap up your slightly bloodied folds.

“Alastor!” you whine loudly, again closing your eyes and even covering your face with both your hands. But you won’t deny how unbelievably good it felt, relieved you’d finally feel release and you couldn’t tell if it’s because someone else is touching you but your sensitivity felt like it had skyrocketed. Your whole body trembled, the tentacles around your waist and chest were doing all the holding up as well as keeping you in place. It’s a little horrifying to be eaten out like this but he’s licking at you like you’re the last drink in hell making you reel and throw your head back. Moans and mewls very soon filled the air and bounced off the walls along with soft sensual jazz that played just a little louder than your own voice. Just enough to mask them from being heard outside of the bedroom.

As Alastor sucked and lapped at your clit, tentacles press harder into your lower abdomen to coax out your sweet fluids enjoying the various noises and the ones you struggled to keep in, “What a shy flower you are, but be a good girl and let me enjoy you,” he cooed at you, his long tongue licking up and down your slightly then teasing your entrance before plunging it deep into your hole. Your eyes widen at the feeling once again squirming and hips bucking, it’s an odd sensations having his long, flexible muscle so deep inside. You could feel the tip reaching your cervix and not leaving a single part of you unexplored. Mind numbing pleasure of your orgasm building up made your ears ring and you knew you wouldn’t last. But Alastor didn’t seem to mind or even care about your impending orgasm because he didn’t slow down his strides. Mouthful after mouthful of your blood dripped down his tongue and into his mouth he groaned in delight at the taste.

“Darling, I’m not doing this entirely for your pleasure. I’m glad to you grant you some release, do cum as many times as you’d like by all means,” he informs from between suck and licks, “But I’m not stopping until I’ve had my fill,” he growled and went right back to his task. You gasped feeling his teeth grace your soft folds, making you keen and clench around his tongue. You felt his smile widen against you, he did it again. And again and again, his teeth probably nicked you a few times but you at that point didn’t mind, your orgasm is just over the horizon and the pain mixed with the immense pleasure only had your back arching against his tendrils that still held you up. Even your hands came to tangle in his hair and antlers holding on tightly feeling that coil in your abdomen about to snap.

And suddenly with a particular rub of his tongue against the little bundle of nerves inside you, your orgasm crashed over you like a ton of bricks. It was so strong it caused goosebumps to rise across your entire body and scream out in pure, unadulterated pleasure. Alastor groan some curses under his breath as you tug his hair when you cum, sucking feverishly to catch every last drop of your release and bloody. It’s dripping down his chin at this point but he can worry about the bloody mess later. He isn’t even near done with you yet. Your reaction to his administrations and the delectable smell wafting off you in waves now that you’ve finally came are making him even more ravenous than when he first shoved his face between your legs.

“I’m going to drink you dry, my darling. Give me everything, pet.”

ღ a/n: it took me days to be satisfied with this one akdkskald but i had so much fun writing it. so thank you cass <33

—

843 notes · View notes

bnpd · 5 days ago

Text

❛❛ the bed's getting cold and you're not here ❜❜

now playing : the heart wants what it wants by selena gomez ♫⋆.˚

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend left to travel the world for a press tour that'll last months. the distance between you causes a rift. however much it hurts, you love him and you'll choose what your heart wants above all else. will you soon regret your decision?

DRABBLE WORD COUNT: 1.2k tags: angst pairing: jungkook x reader

author's note: not proofread, I wrote this after I saw this jungkook edit. i miss jungkook so bad </3

It’s been weeks since he left for his press tour. And the ache in your heart remains.

Long periods of time where he’d leave you cold and wanting. Days gone without contacting one another.

Every other week you’d schedule a video or voice call, and those 30 to 60 minutes would feel amazing. Until he’d get pulled away for a meeting, or a responsibility in his heavily packed schedule.

He'd send you endless pictures and videos of his favorite sights, but it only stung more. Not being able to be there for him or experience these new sights with him. How could you? You had a life back home.

A life full of work and personal responsibilities. Maybe you could leave it behind for just a moment, but you had already gave up so much for him.

You had so much to lose while he had an inch. You lost so much in the process of it all.

Secrets about your relationship ruined your friendships. No one could know you were dating Jungkook, sneaking around created mistrust within your friendships.

You had to be cautious or else word would get around and suddenly everything would get blown out of proportion. The pinch of privacy would diminish in a heartbeat.

You began to put him above your friends. How could you not? The way he made you feel was electrifying. It was him or no one.

He didn’t treat you wrong, never disrespected you or made you feel less of who you were as a person. He completed you. But his work as an idol meant so much more to him. It consumed him and his time.

You understood. You met him as someone who was dedicated to his craft. Somebody who spent day and night proving himself in a dance studio or a record booth.

You sigh as you watch your call go to voicemail. Your throat tightens, and tears begin to blur your vision.

You swallow the lump in your throat before setting your phone face down on the table. Too much of a coward to antagonize yourself over a possible message from him.

He promised. And he broke it.

Lately, he’d been blowing you off. You knew how much this press tour meant to him. How much time and dedication he put into this. How content he would feel after finishing. How he needed this to feel more worthy of his role as a singer.

This time it felt a little different. He’d always make it to your scheduled calls. He’d never miss a date or a detail. You were beyond worried.

Some say it’s a weakness, staying, but it takes so much of you everyday. It’s a strength in itself, although some say it’s a weakness. Like today.

Today, it feels like your heart pounds against your chest at the thought of him, yearning for him.

Sometimes you weaken—sometimes days feel never ending and you find yourself wondering what the future holds. It’s during days like these where the ache feels too uncertain, and the unknown renders you helpless.

It pains you to watch him all over your social media, smiling and content. While you curl up on his side of the shared bed on most nights, watching him from the other side of the world, waiting to even hear from him directly.

You met him 7 years ago. You were working as a tattoo artist–still are–and he came in with his friend, looking for a sentimental tattoo—something that would stick with him.

So, you drafted up some pieces for him based on what he shared with you. Shockingly, he only wanted a four letter word on his knuckles. You happily obliged.

Then, he kept coming for more tattoos. And more, and more.

As a tattoo artist, sometimes you get close to a client. Especially when said client appreciates art, and an outside perspective on his thoughts through another artist's point of view.

Then two years down, he asked you out.

You should have known better than to involve yourself with a lifestyle like Jungkook’s. You had dealt with quite a few semi-popular clients throughout your years of working. But Jungkook? He was by far, the most special one.

The media had begun to speculate about your relationship, but Jungkook never made a comment on it and soon they forgot about it. Or they buried it under the rest of the endless theories.

Soon though, things began to get a little hectic. With how fast BTS was rising to fame his time for you began to dwindle.

You wish you were strong enough to leave and find better. But you don’t want to. Your heart is content in being where it is. With him. Where it belongs.

Even as he takes it with him far away.

You smile pitifully before blowing out your birthday candles. A pain in your chest explodes and it begins to invade your insides, suffocating you. It leaves you breathless and winded. It wounds you so strongly that you rub your chest in a futile attempt to ease the pain.

It hurts more when you recall the last conversation you two had. Was he still upset?

“Baby…come on, don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be like what?” You frown, knowing he won’t see it, but the yearning in your chest makes you ache all over.

“Like that.” You can hear the slight frustration in his tone and it almost makes you burst out in tears. You try your best to keep your composure. For his sake and yours.

“I’m not trying to be like anything,” you murmur, “I just miss you. It’s been several days where I haven't heard from you.”

He sighs on the other end of the phone before speaking, “I miss you too, and I know. I’m sorry for that. But hearing you like this isn’t making it any easier for me.”

You feel incredibly annoying. It hurts to miss him everyday.

Maybe expressing your feelings about it may not have helped.

But in the end, you're just as hurt and sometimes the emotions bottled up come out unwarranted. “And you think it’s any easier for me?”

Now you’re just peeved at his reaction. When you told him about the ache in your chest from his absence you didn’t mean to offend him. You simply wanted to find safety in his reassurance.

So, you continue to push a little more, “Is it so wrong to miss my boyfriend? I’m sorry if my tone doesn’t sound like the happiest person in the world. I just miss you.”

“Well, I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you’re just bringing my mood down with all this shit.”

His rough tone laced in annoyance stuns you to silence.

“Okay. Then, I’ll just take it somewhere else.”

“Wait–” You hang up the phone before the tears begin to fall freely.

Truthfully you felt guilty after your conversation with Jungkook. After you cried out, you reflected and realized that his words held some truth. Would you have felt good if your partner called you and they sounded a bit dejected? Of course.

So you texted him an apology, acknowledging his feelings and your mistakes.

Unfortunately for you, he never replied.

The next phone call never acknowledged the incident. But you did—countless times in your cage of a mind.

Jungkook was, by no means, awful to you. Before he left on his press tour, he was the most amazing boyfriend. Which is why you give him some leeway.

He’s a busy man, an honest and loyal one. You trust him with your life. He’s worth the ache, you convince yourself. He’s worth the sleepless nights full of sadness and endless insecurities. A man like Jungkook is rare to come by.

So, you’ll hold onto him until you can’t—until your arms ache and they physically can no longer withstand the strain.

You’ll wait for him, for as long as you must. You just hope you’re still worth coming home to when he returns. Then, you hope tomorrow goes easier on your hopelessly devoted heart.

NOTES: ngl might make a part 2 of jungkooks pov, using a JB song that fits this exact scenario. and I AM CURRENTLY ACTIVELY WORKING ON GOJO FIC, ITS LONG ASF !

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my tag list :

#bnpd tumblr #angst #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #x reader #reader insert #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook and reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader

229 notes · View notes

cherrysnip · 1 year ago

Text

just that — chwe hansol

pairing: vernon x afab!reader

prompt: "are you guys dating?" or that one time you strongly denied your relationship and he got sulky(?)

a/n: another fic for my fave secret dating x brother's bestfriend trope >.<. this was initially posted on another site before i decided to take it down and let it sit on my drafts for a year lol.

It was already two in the morning but you were still wide awake. With all the things you have done the whole day, it was expected that everyone, including you, would doze off as soon as you get on your beds. Unfortunately, you didn't.

The guilt that has been consuming you since earlier is what's actually making it hard for you to sleep. You had been rolling on the bed too many times as if that would help ease the regret you had been feeling (spoiler alert: it didn't).

When you arrived at your vacation house this morning, you and Vernon had tried to be as discreet with your relationship as possible. You going on a trip together wasn't a new sight, anyway. Vernon and your older brother, Wonwoo had been friends since freshmen year of college so the former is usually invited in times like this and so you both thought you could just let this three days pass without anyone knowing what you really have. However, it seemed like Wonwoo already had a hint about it and had been watching you the entire time. And alas! While you were having dinner, the million-dollar question was finally dropped.

"Are you guys dating?"

Vernon was about to answer but you suddenly panicked and was the one who replied instead, "Of course not. He is just like an older brother to me!"

As soon as you said it, you already wanted to take it back. But it was too late. Vernon may not have said a word but the disappointed look on his face spoke volumes. After that, you avoided each other for the rest of the night.

To be honest, this had been a subject of your arguments a couple of times before. Vernon wanted to tell your friends and families that you have been together for four months already but you're against it. It isn't because you were embarassed about your relationship or afraid that your family would say something negative (if anything, they're very very supportive). It's just that you wanted to enjoy the privacy you had without others minding your business, especially your brother Wonwoo who had been protective of you since your fallout with Joshua, even though it had been years and you have already moved on. He's also the reason why your past suitors had immediately scrammed away after going through the interrogation stage.

"Stop scaring them, will you?" You remembered complaining one time but your brother just shrugged.

"If they get scared of me and give up that easily then they're not really willing to fight for you. People like that are not worth it."

You knew you brother means well but sometimes you just want him to tone down the scare meter a little bit. Because if this continues, you might end up being single for the rest of his life.

But then, Vernon happened.

You already knew who Vernon was since he was a senior in high school. Vernon lives alone because the rest of his family is in another country. That's why when he gets a weekend off from the university, he would tag along with Wonwoo to your house to hang out. He is basically a part of your family now. However, the both of you didn't really got the chance to talk to each other because you were busy studying and usually just stays in your room the whole day when Vernon visits.

That set-up lasted for months until your first day in college. Wonwoo was supposed to give you the tour but had to cancel since he had to attend to something urgently. Of course, knowing you would whine about it nonstop, Wonwoo sent another person to guide you.

It's none other than *drum rolls please*, his best friend, Vernon. Surprise, surprise!

"Hi," that was just the first word that Vernon said to you (while sporting that smile that YOU swear would actually make anyone melt if possible), but you already knew you would fall for him. HARD.

You wouldn't admit it at first. The guy's nice (and freaking handsome and hot too) but you didn't want to give meaning to that kindness because you thought Vernon might just be doing it because you are his bestfriend's sister. However, it wasn't easy to supress the feelings when every time your eyes meet or when you smile at each other, butterflies would fill your stomach.

Not to mention, Vernon would also never forget to buy you your fave Iced Americano every chance he gets.

Luckily, it isn't a one-sided affection. Because apparently, Vernon is feeling the same towards you. The confession was nothing grand but for you, it was romantic and perfect.

It was in the middle of the crowd, during the Music Festival as your university's resident band was playing Enchanted by Taylor Swift, when Vernon looked at you directly in the eye and told you, "I like you so much y/n. I know this might be too sudden for you but I've been keeping this for a while and I just want to let it out. It's alright if you won't like me back ---"

"Shut up. I like you too," You replied while chuckling. You found Vernon blabbering cute because most of the time when you're together, you did the most talking and he would just agree and smile at you every now and then.

That was also the night that your relationship became official.

What followed was the happiest four months of your life. But now you're afraid that it would be cut short if you won't reconcile with Vernon as soon as possible.

You weren't able to take it anymore so you finally got up and carefully tiptoed as you went out of the room. You were just about to go to the next room but you heard a soft mumbling sound from the living room. That's when you realized that someone other than you were still up and is watching the television.

At first, you thought it was your brother but when you saw the brown hair peeking on the couch's headrest, it was a confirmation that it was him—your boyfriend.

Biting your lower lip, you walked towards Vernon who still haven't noticed that you were there. It didn't seem like he was focused to what he was watching, he was more like 'spacing out".

"Nonie?" You called softly and poked at Vernon's arm. The latter automatically looked up to you and blinked multiple times, probably making sure if you were really there or just his imagination.

"Why are you still awake?" Vernon reached for your hand and squeezed it lightly. You resisted yourself from crying because of how sweet your boyfriend is right now when he should be mad at you.

"I'm sorry about earlier," you said but Vernon shook his head.

"I should be the one saying sorry, babe. I told you I would respect your decision but I still acted up."

"But I know you're upset about it, Nonie."

"No. A little disappointed, I guess. I just don't want to hide anything anymore, especially our relationship. I don't want this to stay like a dirty secret because it's not."

You nodded and came over to sit on Vernon's lap. Your boyfriend was obviously taken aback but he just let you be eventually. He even encircled his arms in your waist to pull you closer.

"Okay. We'll tell them tomorrow."

Vernon's eyes widened. "Tomorrow?"

"Why are you so surprised?" You let out a laugh. "Are you still not ready?'

"Of course, I am. I've been preparing for it for months,"

"So you're not scared of Wonwoo-oppa?"

"As my friend, no. But as your brother, yes. I can even imagine him strangling me the second he finds about us."

You both knew that's far from Wonwoo's personality so he would most likely not do that but who knows? It could be worse.

"You'll be fine, Nonie. But if ever you get broken bones, don't worry, there's a nearby hospital, we can just--aw" you tried teasing him but Vernon was already pinching your nose before you could even finish your sentence.

"You're lucky I would do anything for you."

—♡—

#vernon #vernon x reader #vernon x y/n #vernon x you #seventeen drabbles #vernon fluff #svt scenarios #seventeen #svt au #svt imagines #svt

887 notes · View notes

droaxa · 1 month ago

Text

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader alt. timeline 1

what if the reader became emotionless toward her captor and the situation?

✧ warnings: kidnapping, violence and force, yandere behavior, kissing, angst, dead dove, mentions of suicidal thoughts and depression (if you struggle with these topics please click off and take care of yourself) probably more stuff

✧ a/n: so i just checked how long its been since i finished the end of the cheater series and it was 6 months!?! sorry for the crazy long wait guys, appreciate y’all that stuck around for this

3 months and 12 days. that’s how much time had passed since you were trapped in this prison of a house. the ability to track time was one luxury that raph had allowed you to keep and you were damned if you couldn’t use it. the calendar and the clock in your room became the objects of your obsession, things that raph had bought you when he decided that you were finally acting ‘good enough’.

you lay on the plush bed, in a similar manner to how you were situated when first captured. arms outstretched and legs spread as you stared at the ceiling above you, but of course without the ropes. you slowly turned your head to the side, gazing at the baby pink alarm clock and taking note of the time. 6:23 pm, raph would be home soon.

you pushed yourself off the bed and dragged yourself to the couch in the living room. the house you were kept in was a small apartment with one bedroom, far from cozy but it was obvious that raph had tried to make you more comfortable.

however, you couldn’t bring yourself to care for his efforts anymore. the plush of the couch under you offered no comfort, same as everything else in this house. food had lost its flavor long ago and even keeping track of the time didn’t bring you the same joy that it used to. no matter how he tried to dress it up, the house was cold and draining, the color had left you long ago.

you became numb to anything that raph tried to do, his threats and anger had no power over you when you weren’t afraid to die anymore. after all, what was the point of living in these conditions? the last time you had these thoughts, the results had been more than drastic, driving you to make an action that you would forever regret.

1 month and 23 days ago.

you fumbled with your razor in the bathroom, cold hands desperately clawing the razor out of the holder until it fell out with a pop!

shaking hands brought the razor to your wrist as you looked at yourself in the mirror, diminished to the disheveled ghost of a woman. your stay at the house and away from society had drained you, the healthy tan you once flaunted had left, your hair grew long with split ends, and your eyes reddened from constant crying, dark circles and bags lining your eyes.

this single razor was the mistake that raph had made in his hurry to leave for work, his grooming kit being left on the bathroom sink, in reach for your curious hands.

but the discovery had provoked a question in yourself, was it worth living like those? hell, was this even living? after seeing raph's disgusting approaches to rekindling the relationship, you decided not. no matter what you tried you couldn't leave, asking raph was out of the question. you could still feel the soreness of bruises on your arms from when raph had grabbed you, yelling that you would never leave.

nights after he had grabbed you, you planned your own escape. your obsession with schedule came in handy when deciding what time was best to shatter the bedroom window and escape, an hour after raph had left the building. using a standing lamp, with its sturdy base facing the window you repeatedly rammed into the window as small cracks began to form on the smooth surface. on a burst of adrenaline, you continued, and just as you felt hope at the sight of light peaking through the exposed window the slam of a door was heard throughout the small apartment.

your blood ran cold. he was home. but, this shouldn't be possible. no, it couldn't! you had spent weeks painstakingly mapping out his schedule, no he shouldn't be home for another 4 hours. but yet, there he stood, chest heaving as he took heavy steps toward you. you had never seen raph mad, at least not really mad. but for the first time, the entirety of his anger and frustration was not hidden behind a facade of amusement. and he was furious.

lunging at you, raph offered no time for reaction as he slapped the lamp out of your hand as if it was nothing but a toy. grabbing you by the hair so hard that tears began to form, he shook you like a doll.

"you thought I was stupid didn't you, you fucking bitch,"

he slaps you harshly across the face with his free hand, sending a shockwave of pain throughout your body.

"but you're the one who came up with a halfwitted plan to leave me, what did you think, I trusted you?"

he pulls on your hair sharply pulling a hiss of pain out of you,

"bet you didn't notice the cameras, but I did hide them pretty well"

something in you broke that day. you couldn't do a single thing without raph knowing, and anything that could be used to break the windows was out of the question, as he had boarded them up. all you could do was sit around all day staring at the windows that you had assumed would help your escape. that was until you found the razor.

now you stood at the bathroom sink, razor in hand as you stared at yourself. if death was the only escape from your tormentor then be it, this was the end. in one swipe, velvety red blood rushed out of your artery and down your arm as your vision faded to black.

present day.

damn those cameras. despite what you thought, you ended up surviving the night and being taken to a small clinic while you were unconscious. raph had you hastily taken care of under the supervision of a somewhat unqualified nurse, but despite his biggest fears, you lived to see another day. weak of course, but nevertheless, alive.

you wake up few days later, the same way that you always had. blinding lights searing your vision and clinical smell floodin your senses, truly jolting you awake. however, you're not chained up? you simply lie in bed under the fluffy white covers, as you feel a weight on your left thigh. craning your neck, you see raph laying his head on your lap, watching you wordlessly. he seemed as drained as you, lips chapped and eyes red.

the moment he realized you were awake his threw himself into your arms, sobbing. his total 180 in behavior made you raise your eyebrows.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry. i should've been more careful, please don't leave me. I love you so much" he started to kiss up your arms, gentle near where your scars were. he didn't do anything to you that night, just held you and burrowed his face into the crevice of your neck.

you eventually fell into slumber from the exaustion, eyelids heavy as you drifted off. as you woke, you smelled something unusual: unlike the usual hospital smell, it was eggs and toast. shakily, you pushed yourself off the bed and hobbeled into the living room to see him cooking. as soon as he felt your eyes on him, he greeted you with a smile.

you ignored him and noticed something unusual. every sharp corner in the house was now rounded off with a silicone covering; no table corner, cabinet, or door was left ungloved. everything sharp or with a capablility to harm was gone. and that meant everything. even the legs of the couch were now sawed off, leaving the three seater to sit on the floor in an unnatural way. in short, the house had been completely baby proofed, down to the kitchen cabinet sthat all had combination locks on them

somehow, you couln't even bring yourself to cry anymore. this had to be what living in hell felt like, no escape, just eternal torture. you sat down on the couch, and blankly stared at the tv ahead, which was now inserted into the wall.

your mind was blank. no emotion. no thoughts. not anymore.

just then, raph approached you with what you assumed was breakfast. avocado toast, something you had adored in the past. that past seemed so long ago now, when you would sit at the kitchen counter and your father would make you food. you didn't want to think about those times anymore, you would never return to them.

despite raph's unusually gentle nature as of late, you were still on edge and refused to even look at the food as he placed it down on the coffee table in front of you.

"here, i made your favorite"

you looked at him blankly, no words. his mouth quirked in and unpleasant manner as he waited for you to speak. but you didn't. you just stared. and stared. and stared.

he is visibly uncomfortable and starts to grow angry with your silence. you just stared. suddenly he struck you, his anger surging in a moment of blind frustration. but as the sting of his actions settled, realization hit him hard. guilt flooded his senses.

"i'm sorry... i didn't mean it" he whispered, voice trembling. raph dropped to his knees in front of you, eyes filled with tears that blurred his vision.

his hands grasped her face, but you remained still, your expression unreadable. raph pressed his forehead against yours, his lips brushing against your skin as he murmured again

"I'm so sorry... I didn't know what I was doing."

His tears fell freely, staining your cheek as he kissed you softly. you said nothing, but the silence between you both spoke volumes—both a barrier and a plea for forgiveness. you were right, this had to be hell.

tags: @crazyyanderefangirlfan and @stuff6969fuckyou for the idea!

#x reader #female reader #y/n #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere x reader #x y/n #angst #yandere cheater #yandere cheater x reader

209 notes · View notes

loverindeepspace · 2 months ago

Text

Birthday Surprise // Rafayel x Reader

Happy Birthday to Raf! I present you a slightly angsty, very fluffy and slightly spicy fic in celebration! Concept: You surprise Raf on his birthday Tags: slight angst, suggestive at the end, very fluffy, might be slight ooc, established relationship, she/her pronouns for reader Word Count: 1796 Masterlist

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, the mission is running over, there’s more wanderers here than we thought. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Your voice was filled with guilt, clearly heard over the phone.

“But it’s been so long since I last saw you! You’re being overworked, I might just file a complaint to your captain for keeping you so far away.” He tried not to let the disappointment show his voice as he replied.

“Now now, don’t pout so loudly, I promise we’ll have plenty of time together when I’m back. If you’re good, I’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

“What a thing to say, and on my birthday nonetheless. I don’t need souvenirs, just bring yourself back as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back as soon as I can, I gotta go now, Jenna is sending me out again. I love you! Happy Birthday darling!”

“I love-” Before he could even finish, the call ended. With a sigh, he laid back on the bed, arm over his eyes. It was bad enough waking up alone on the one day he started to look forward to when you were with him. You always went out of the way to make the day special for him, every year. He disliked celebrating his birthday before you came along, after so many years alone he had no reason after all, it became just like any other day for him in his long life. And then you were there, with your bright smile, your warm hugs and joyful kisses. You celebrated his life, you cared enough to show that you appreciate him being in your life. It made his heart soar, your smile contagious, your warmth seeping into his very soul.

This year, however, you were sent out for a long mission, which overlapped his birthday. You weren’t there with him this year, and he hated just how disappointed he was at the lack of your presence. He wanted to wake up to your kisses, you in his arms. But he was left alone, and he used to be fine with that.

He wasn’t used to being alone anymore.

God he needed to get a hold of himself. He quickly rolled out of bed, on his way to make some breakfast, maybe some food would brighten his mood.

=====

You stood in your kitchen, flour on your clothes and icing bag at the ready. You hummed along with the music as you carefully piped swirls and flowers onto the cake in front of you. Decorations littered the counters, all in different colours. This cake needed to be perfect, to show him just how much colour and joy he brought into your life. You regretted having to lie to Rafayel, but you wanted to make this day special with a surprise this year. You got back from your mission late last night, and immediately went to work, wrapping his presents and packing everything you needed for today. The last thing you needed to do was make the cake, which occupied the majority of the morning, leading well into the afternoon. It was made from scratch after all, only the best for your fishie.

The last touches were added, and you packed the cake carefully into the cool box, candles and lighter already in your other bag, along with plenty of food, snacks and decorations. Now, all that way needed was setting everything up and getting Raf to the beach.

=====

A knock on the door broke him out of his daze, snapping his eyes away from the still blank canvas in front of him. Hope sparked in his chest, maybe his wish was gonna come true, maybe you were behind that door.

He swung the door open, revealing… Thomas. The hope quickly dissipated.

“Happy Birthday Rafayel!” Thomas said joyfully as Rafayel stared at him, slight annoyance in his eyes.

“Thanks.” He replied dryly.

Thomas cleared his throat, holding out a couple of wrapped boxes, “That top one is from Miss Hunter. She asked me to deliver it to you since she’s away.” He handed Rafayel the boxes, saying quick goodbyes. Raf didn’t wait, unwrapping the mid-sized box. Inside he found… flowers?

Red carnations, chrysanthemums and camellias were elegantly presented in the box, the colours shining brightly in the afternoon sun. He carefully reached out and stroked along the petals, a blush threatening to creep up to his cheeks as his gaze turned tender. The gift plucked at his heartstrings, you had to have done your research on flower language to pick out these flowers in particular. His eyes finally found the card attached to the bouquet, gingerly picking it up.

Happy Birthday my Love.

My sweet fishie, I’m so lucky to have you in my life, I may have forgotten many things over the years, but my heart has never forgotten the love I hold for you.

You once made me promise not to make you wait again, and yet on this special day I’m not there with you.

The wait is over now, come find me where the ocean meets the land. You know the spot. - Miss Bodyguard

His breath caught in his throat as he immediately turned to grab his car keys. He was out of the door before he realised, speeding down the winding roads, until he saw the sea on the horizon. A million thoughts raced through his mind, all of them focused on you. You were back. You were here.

His feet quickly reached the sand, taking him to the spot that belonged to the two of you. The place you’d visit often with him, watching sunset after sunset, embraced by the ocean breeze and the soft hush of the waves.

And there you were. He froze midstep, a smile as bright as the sun itself on your face as you turned to him. It was the most beautiful view he had ever seen. Candles were littered across the sand, a blanket laid out behind you, a variety of snacks displayed on it. A smile of his own braced his features before turning into a mock scowl, “Look what the tide dragged in.”

You huffed a laugh, coming forward and wrapping your arms around him, leaning your chin on his chest to look up at him, a grin playing on your lips.

“I wanted to surprise you, I’m sorry.”

Resigned, his arms drew around you almost on instinct, “Was it fun tricking me? Playing with my emotions like that? You truly are cruel, Miss Bodyguard.”

“What can I do to make it up to you fishie?”

He pretended to think for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes, “I can think of a few things…”

A giggle left you as you leaned in to brush your lips against his, “Happy Birthday Raf.” You say as your lips finally meet in a tender kiss. Your fingers move to brush through his hair, deepening the kiss for just a moment before pulling away. He chased your lips, arms tightening around you, and you gave in, giving him a couple more pecks. Your smile didn’t leave your face, as you pushed your finger against his lips when he tried to kiss you again. You could keep kissing him all night but you also wanted to show him the rest of the surprise.

“Hold on, I need to get your present.” You whispered, eyes gleaming with the love you held for this man.

But his arms don’t let you go, “Nope. You’re legally obligated to keep holding me, it’s my birthday.”

“But sweetheart, don’t you wanna sit down and appreciate the cake I made, from scratch, just for you?” You lean in for one last kiss, before giving him an eager look.

As you part, he huffs, a smile spreading on face, “Fine, fineeee. I’d rather appreciate you for a bit longer, but I’ll do as you say.”

He took your hand as you tugged him towards the blanket, taking a seat side by side with you. You pulled the cake out carefully, lighting the candles before turning to him.

“Make a wish, birthday boy.” His eyes softened as he saw the cake in your hands.

You made this just for him. From scratch. You put in so much effort to surprise him. He could almost forgive you for tricking him. Okay who was he kidding, he forgave you the moment he saw you.

His heart skipped a beat as he blew out the candles, sunset coloured eyes meeting yours.

And how beautiful your eyes are, brimming with love and devotion, all directed right at him. His throat felt tight all of a sudden, his cheeks flushing under the intensity of your gaze, eyes averting to the side. Until he felt something cold on his cheek, snapping his attention back to you in astonishment at your audacity. He quickly took the cake from your hands, scooping some icing on the way and pulling you towards him and quickly getting his revenge, swiping the icing across your cheek.

“The audacity! Ambushing me like that! As a bodyguard you’re meant to protect me, not attack me.” His fingers found your sides, running across them until you had tears in your eyes, laughter and pleas leaving your mouth. You tried your best to fight back, catching his hands in yours, but his attack was relentless, tickling you until you finally gave in and apologized for your rudeness.

At some point in the attack, you ended up in his lap without realising, and as you caught your breath you realized just how close his face was to yours, a grin matching yours spread across his features. Your face hurt from laughing, a wide smile still stuck to your face as you leant in to kiss the corner of his mouth, kissing away the icing lingering there.

“Mmm, it's sweet, you should try it.” You say cheekily as his eyes darken slightly, mischief dancing across them, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, licking into your mouth. You moan slightly into the kiss as it deepens, his hands finding your hips, pulling you further into him, until you’re straddling his lap, your hands in his hair, his holding you tightly against him.

It feels like you’ve been kissing for hours before the lack of oxygen pulls you apart. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes catching yours, a smile bordering on cocky spreading across his lips as he says, “You’re right. It’s sweet.”

Heat rises to your face at his words, you’re flustered but you work with it, as you lean to whisper in his ear, “You know… I do have another gift for you… but you’ll have to wait until we get back to unwrap it.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #rafayel l&ds #rafayel x y/n #rafayel angst #l&ds rafayel #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #love and deep space rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel

193 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

Princess | Intro/ Part 01

There's more to it than what meets the eye.

Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression

Length: 6.5k Words

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook hates loosing.

And that’s especially true when it comes to bets- because he also can’t really pass up any opportunity to show off and be the best at something. So when he took on the bet with Jimin, he didn’t think anything of it- after all, even if he lost, he could still simply teach that so-called ‘puppy’ Jimin was supposed to be working with a killer choreo and make his way on top either way.

What Jimin failed to tell him, however, was that you are an absolute menace.

Not only are you spoiled to high heavens and dressed head to toe in pretty designer pieces designed and tailored just for you, no- your attitude is making him want to throw himself into a busy road to be run over by any moving vehicle willing to do so. It’s been not even thirty minutes he’s spent in the meeting room, and he already regrets his big mouth with Jimin.

But maybe it’s just a bad first impression. Maybe, you’re just having a bad day.

“So, basically, we’ve got four weeks to make it work.” Your manager says, having finished his plan as he stands at the end of the table everyone is sitting at, you included- though you clearly do not listen to the conversations happening at all, instead occupied with a game on your switch console, decorated in plastic gemstones and cute stickers, sound not even all the way down as to not interrupt anyone.

Jungkook feels his blood boiling. Can’t you at least attempt to listen? After all, it’s your career that’s on the line.

“I’ll need the possible song choices she made, and I also gotta get a copy of the guidelines and what the judges generally look for. Doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to have it before we start making anything up.” Jungkook offers, arms crossed. You’ve not even looked at him once today.

If he just went by looks, you’d actually be quite cute- you're clearly taking good care of yourself, and you fall right into the category of hybrid girl he’d see himself interested in- but your character seems to be the exact opposite, as you stare down at the small screen in your hands, lashes long, hiding your gaze a little from him.

“We can totally do that.” Your manager says. “I- uhm.. Are you okay with that too?” He asks towards you, and you simply take in a deep breath before you sigh, shoulders shrugging and head somewhat nodding. Your eyes however never break away from your game, instead, you just adjust your seating postition a little before you become completely detached from the situation again. “I’m sorry about that. She’s.. Having a bad day.” Your manager justifies.

Jungkook smells the lie right away.

“Practice will start at 7 AM then-” Jungkook starts, and that seems to catch your attention as your face turns into a frown. “-And we’ll practice the whole week, except weekends.”

“That’s too early.” You mumble, grumbling down at your game while your legs stretch out under the table, feet brushing against his shins. You’re not wearing shoes, only your knee-high socks, having discarded the slip on’s early on for no apparent reason other than comfort.

“She usually sleeps until.. 11 so..” Your manager starts, and Jungkook has to swallow a growl.

“8.” He says sternly, staring at you who scoffs down at your hands. “She’ll have to get up earlier then.” He decides, making you lift your chin a little, before you save your game, turn off the console and put it on the table, your arms now crossed as well as you finally, for the first time, look at him.

The fire in your eyes could seriously burn someone if it was to be manifested into a real flame, he decides.

“You’ll have to wait until I show up then.” You answer him, and his eyes narrow, feeling challenged. But before he can respond, your manager seems to sense the growing tension between you two, as he dissolves the meeting quickly to have you driven back home.

Jungkook however, can’t let go this easily.

“You forgot to tell me that she’s an absolute bitch.” Jungkook growls into his phone, sitting on his couch with the TV on but on mute. “There’s no way I’ll be working with her for four weeks without committing a crime.” He threatens, and Jimin has the audacity to laugh.

“Oh Jungkookie, don’t let her fool you!” He laughs. “She’s a literal angel, believe me. She just acts all tough.”

“Or she was just interested in you.” Jungkook denies. “I’ve spent barely an hour with her and I already know She’s gonna be a handful to manage.” He sighs.

“Come on now, she’s what? Half your size?” Jimin playfully exaggerates. “Just put her in timeout, big guy, and you’ll be fine.” He jokes, very much aware of Jungkook’s rather dominant nature due to his wolfblood. And while the joke is funny, it’s also a problem.

Jungkook doesn’t know if he can really stay calm while working with you. And his career could be over in a second if he so much as lashes out at you verbally- because no way would someone work with a hybrid choreograph or dancer who can’t keep his cool. He already has issues getting some gigs due to his wolfblood mixed in- one mistake and he can surely put his career to rest.

He really regrets taking on this bet now.

Hopefully this won’t end too badly.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You really do not turn up at 8 like he told you to.

He’s impatiently waiting in the practice room, your manager and stylist and other staff already present- everyone trying to get a hold of you with no luck at all. It’s only until an hour later that another staff member informs everyone that you’ve finally woken up, and that you’re currently on your way to the practice room.

Jungkook is pissed, to say the least.

If you work like this the entire four weeks, there’s no way he can manage to push a good choreography into your head that you can pull off properly on stage. And if you fail, it’ll be on him- and he just can’t accept that. Hopefully, you’ll warm up to the idea of actually putting effort into this.

Hopefully.

When you finally turn up, you don’t appear to be sorry at all- still somewhat asleep and in no way ready to start practicing anytime soon. Instead, you sit down and take out your breakfast to eat, while your stylist runs a brush through your hair. But what’s odd about this, is more or less that Jungkook can sense a total shift in energy right now.

It’s like they’re shielding you, giving him no access to you until they deem the timing alright.

And you just robotically eat your little breakfast, while everyone else scatters around you, rushing from spot to spot. Jungkook isn’t too sure what exactly might be happening- but then again, it’s also not unusual to see such a scene. You’re a showhybrid after all- meant to look pretty at all times and in every living moment just in case there’s a camera around. And he knows that the practice is going to be filmed occasionally for some behind the scenes content for your fanbase- which is why you have your stylist around in the first place. You’re just supposed to look like you’re not wearing any makeup at all.

No one wants to see reality, because reality is what everyone can witness if they look in the mirror. And that’s boring. That’s not entertaining. That’s not something to be jealous of, or something to admire.

In a way, Jungkook starts to feel a bit sorry for you. Do you ever have a moment for yourself?

Either way, the moment the cameras start running, you switch character almost instantly. Suddenly you’re polite, soft spoken and determined to get every step right- though your true nature does poke it’s head through on occasion, especially when you can’t get something quite right the first or second try.

“Maybe we need to work on how to keep to the beat first.” Jungkook suggests, and at that, you seem to break, sighing with an agitated groan as your tail unravels, falling limp behind you. He’s not seen this happen often- his best friend Yoongi being a dog-hybrid with a curled tail as well, who can be quite grumpy most of the time. But even he never has his tail this.. Lifeless.

It’s unnerving to see.

“I’m not lobotomized, mutt.” You groan, making the manager motion to cut the cameras for a second. “I can keep to a beat, you’re just shit at teaching.” You growl to yourself, sitting down stubbornly as you visibly try and mask the fact that you’re out of breath.

Truth be told, Jungkook isn’t technically a choreographer. He usually works with professional dancers or simply follows whatever he’s given by an artist themselves- so yes, he might actually be a little rusty when it comes to teaching others.

Do you have to be so rude about it though? No.

“Well we’re going around in circles like this.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll get us something to drink. Try and calm down a bit..” He attempts to soothe your temper, as he leaves the practice room- mostly so that he himself can escape the situation for a moment.

He’s not sure what it is. Maybe your scent full of anger and fear filling the space so much that it feels like it’s drowning him in the room, or the fact that you always have to be so rude-

Wait.

Fear?

Alarmed by that, Jungkook walks a bit faster with the water bottles in hand to get back into the room- just to find you not there anymore, everyone looking at him as if they’re surprised to see him back already. “Where is she?” Jungkook asks, and your manager blinks a little, caught off guard.

“She went to get something to drink.” He states, making Jungkook frown.

“I said I’m gonna get us some. Why did she go by herself?” Jungkook asks. “She doesn’t even know where the vending machines are.”

“She said you were taking too long.” A stylist mentions. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I was gone for not even five minutes?” He growls to himself, before he hears you enter the room again, a small juicebox in hand that you punch the tiny straw into. “Don’t just run off.” He scolds you.

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah alright, Daddy.” You scoff, walking past him to sit in a corner- actually facing it for some reason, your back turned towards everyone else.

“Ah, don’t be alarmed.” Your manager explains. “She.. Sometimes does this. We don’t know either why, and we don’t really question it either. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be right back to practice.” He beams at him, and Jungkook feels weirdly played.

Something’s odd here.

But it’s also none of his business.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The next day, you’re not there on time again.

And despite the fact that Jungkook had told you no food in the practice room was allowed, you clearly disregarded that as nothing but background noise, while you take out your bag of foods in the middle of the large room.

“I said no food in the practice room.” Jungkook scolds, walking towards you to stand right in front of you, arms crossed. “and you’re also late again. Two hours to be exact.”

“You said no food.” You shrug, lifting up the small bag of puffed rice crisps. “That’s snacks.” You respond, making him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw.

“put it to the side.” He says. “You’re here to practice, not to eat.” He reminds you, able to talk freely with almost none of your staff around today.

“can’t practice on an empty stomach.” You respond however, letting yourself fall into your bag, before you take out your phone to scroll on it while you eat your snacks- crumbs already littering the floor. “Why’s your wifi so shit in here?” You mumble to yourself, when suddenly, the signal stops entirely. “Hey, your internet cut off-“ you start, before you spot him putting his phone down. “Turn it back on-“

“Since you’re acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” He simply says. “wifi stays off until you practiced.” He scolds, boldly taking both your snacks and your phone from you to put it on a table close by, the act alone catching you so off guard that it has you frozen in place while you process it. “Do you want to get up yourself or do I need to help you with that as well?” He asks, and you glare at him.

“Touch me and I’ll sue you.” You threaten, and he watches you for a moment as if to see if you’re serious- before he decides you’re clearly not, with the way your tail slightly twitches, clearly needing to be consciously held down by yourself to not wag.

“Alright that’s it.” He simply tells you before he walks towards you, and much to his dismay, you let yourself fall limply down onto the ground as if you’re trying to become liquid. “You’re being ridiculous right now-“

“let me have the wifi again!” You just huff. “and my snacks. I’m hungry.” You argue.

“get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast then.” He shakes his head, before he grabs your wrists to lift you into a sitting position. But the moment he lets go, you’ve flopped back down again, lips twitching.

Now your tail is wagging, clearly.

“so that’s what you’re after, huh?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “too bad. I’m not playing your game.” He says, before he walks to the side where all his stuff is, changing his shoes.

“wait- What’re you doing?” You ask, watching him tie his sneakers.

“going home.” He answers without looking. “were clearly not getting anywhere.”

You sigh, groaning out lout before you angrily hit the floor-

Getting up to walk towards him, pulling his jacket from his hands before you let it fall onto the table. “I wanna practice.” You pout.

“What a bummer, princess.” He answers, taking his jacket back to slip it on. “I don’t. Now get your stuff, and then-“ He tells you, walking closer before he points to the door behind you. “-get out.” He demands.

And you just angrily huff at yourself, doing just that.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You fail to get to practice on time again the day after.

And the day after that.

But on friday, Jungkook has finally had enough of your poor excuses and frankly stupid behavior.

"Why is she late this time?" Jungkook asks your staff, jaw clenched as he's already frustrated again. You're clearly not taking this seriously, and he honestly doesn't know how anyone else has ever managed to work with you in any way.

"We're.. not sure." Your manager says, face showing his own shame about your behavior. "She turned her phone off, we can't reach her."

That's it.

Jungkook can understand a lot of things. You're used to being spoiled and having everything set in front of you on a silver platter- he gets that. Sometimes, people's minds can be poisoned by wealth and success. But turning off your phone? That's too far.

What if something actually happened? What if you're sick, in need of help, in danger? This is absolutely ridiculous behaviour, and he does not care anymore. "She said she lives in the city here, right?" Jungkook asks, and the manager nods. "Alright, where exactly?" He wonders, and a stylist of yours calls out your address.

And that sets him off even further- because you barely live ten minutes away from him. Which means there's not even a single reason as to why you would be late at all.

"What are you going to do?" Your manager worries as Jungkook changes his shoes and slips on his jacket, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle.

"I'm getting her myself."

If there’s one thing Jungkook hates, then it’s people isolating themselves just for their own convenience. It’s mainly due to his best friend years back doing that constantly- turning off his phone to get some quiet time for himself, until he actually did end up being in trouble.

And when someone tried to call him, and couldn’t get a hold of him, they just thought ‘It’s probably one of those days again.’

If Jungkook didn’t go against his better judgement, if he didn’t end up checking up on him despite his mind telling him that it was for nothing, Yoongi would not be alive today.

He rings your doorbell multiple times, annoyingly so to get you to stand up at some point. There’s no way you can sleep through that, especially when he starts angrily knocking onto your door. Suddenly, you open it, staring at him with eyes barely open. “What.” You ask, and Jungkook takes a look at you for a second.

You’ve clearly been asleep, but you don’t look rested at all- eyes barely open as you glare at him, and funnily enough, one of your ears is even a bit floppy- not quite entirely down, but also no standing as straight as it usually does. “You’re late.” Jungkook scolds. You attempt to close the door again, making him attempt something dangerous.

He puts his hand in between the door.

But, maybe Jimin wasn’t so wrong after all, because you immediately open the door again, now wide awake as you look at his hand, worried you might’ve hurt him. Only when you don’t find anything you push his palm back towards him, and cross you arms.

“Come on.” He says, nodding towards the hallway behind him.

“No.” You deny.

“What do you mean, no?’ he asks, agitated.

“I said no. I don’t wanna.” You answer, walking back into your apartment- and with your door left open, he takes it as an invitation to walk inside.

The second he closes the door and turns around, he’s in shock.

Cardboard boxes, trash bags, crumpled papers and wrappings all over the place. Shoes litter the entrance area, your coats are thrown over the chairs at your open kitchen which sink is filled with unwashed dishes. The windows are shut, curtains heavy as they hide the mess in your home from the outside world. It’s so dark that Jungkook feels like if he wasn’t a hybrid, he most likely wouldn’t be able to see where he’s stepping at all.

How long have you been living like this?

The apartment isn’t big, there doesn’t seem to be many rooms at all. After searching for a bit he finds you curled up in your large bed, pink bedsheets and blankets halfway on the floor while your little gaming console chimes and beeps while you play.

“..come on now, you’ve.. got the weekend off.” Jungkook says. “it’s just today-“

“I said I don’t want to.” You growl, face focused on your game. “now fuck off and leave me.”

Jungkook sighs. This really isn’t any of his business.

But somehow, as he walks back into the main area of the small apartment, he finds himself opening a new trashbag to throw away all the plastic strewn around. He puts your shoes in order, places the garbage bags in a corner to have them out the way, before he rips the cardboard apart to throw away easier later. He’s not sure why he’s doing that- maybe partially to annoy you and get you to get out of bed, or maybe because he pities you.

This isn’t just laziness. From the way you act, to the body language you scream out quietly, to the fact that you don’t seem motivated for anything at all.

This is something deeper.

“What’re you doing?” You growl from a corner, before you walk closer to rip the cardboard box from his hands, throwing it in a corner again. “I told you to fuck off.” You threaten, and he nods.

“heard it loud and clear.” He agrees with crossed arms, and you huff.

“Ears seem to be working then.” You snap. “the mistake must be in your brain.”

“I can assure you it’s working just fine as well.” He answers, and you snarl at that, distinctive canines showing.

“Then why are you still here digging through my shit?!” You bark at him, and he shrugs.

“Because no one deserves to rot away like this.”

It’s quiet at that, for a good moment. The only sound heard is the clock in the kitchen ticking, some faint rain against the windows, and a garbage bag slowly slipping a little from its position. And when it falls to the floor, he catches a short second of your eyes tearing up, before you turn around, looking away from him before you run off into your bedroom-

But the door won’t close with all the clutter, making you angrily growl at it while you try and somewhat pull it close.

Jungkook slowly walks towards you, to pull your hands off of the door handle, making you drop down to the floor in defeat, sitting right on your clothes that are laying on the floor. “leave me alone.” You cry to yourself, head low and hybrid ears even lower as you sit there, kicking away some of the clutter.

The wolfdog hybrid slowly squats down to your level, before he carefully moves a broken jar away from your leg and onto a small table close by. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asks, and you kick your leg again at that, a small box flying through the room.

“I just want to be alone!” You bark. “I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t want to go to practice, I don’t want to do this stupid contest, I don’t want anyone to look at me!” You complain loudly, and Jungkook would easily call this a textbook temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for your clearly desperate tears.

“did you tell your management?” He asks, and you scoff, sniffling.

“as if they care!” You huff. “it’s always just do this, do that, go here, eat that, smile, be nice, film everything.!” You tell him. “I want to go home!” You begin to cry now, hiding your face in your hands.

“Home?” Jungkook wonders, unsure what you mean. Isn’t this your home?

“I just wanna go home..” you continue to cry into your hands. “I wanna go see mom, and dad..” you mumble muffled into your palms, and Jungkook feels terrible seeing you like this. He doesn’t know you, but something is clearly not right. This isn’t acting, because your body language, your scent- everything tells him that you’re in genuine distress.

“Maybe you can visit them?” He wonders, slowly reaching out to put his hand on your knee, offering silent comfort that you, for now, seem to accept. “do they live far away-“

“they won’t let me.” You say. “they told them.. they told them I don’t wanna see them and that I hate them, and now they hate me.” You whimper.

“They?” the wolfdog asks, pushing some clutter to the side to sit down as well.

“the company.” You mumble. “because.. my dad didn’t want me to move away back when.. when I was still a pup.” You say. A pup possibly meaning that you were still underage. “and.. back then, I thought it was for the best. This was such a one-in-a-million chance..” you reveal to him. “I thought it was worth it.”

“Do they threaten you?” Jungkook worries, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“..They’re all I have.” You admit. “my.. my apartment. My money. My name. They own me.” You say, defeat evident in your voice as you slowly calm down again, tension leaving your body. “just.. leave me alone.”

“I cant.” Jungkook denies with a sigh. “not anymore.”

“fuck off-“ you start, grabbing at his hand, but he somehow moves it around, holding yours now instead.

“I won’t.” He sternly says. “Alright? I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.” He promises, and you look up at him with slightly red eyes, confused.

“Figure out what?” You ask, and he smiles.

“How to bring you home.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re very clearly not very happy about Jungkook currently cleaning your apartment with you.

You’re slow and sluggish, and you constantly complain about everything- and Jungkook can somewhat understand it. You’ve quite literally buried yourself in this little cave, having someone take it apart like this must be horribly uncomfortable. But it’s for the best- and you’ll soon realize that.

That doesn’t mean you don’t annoy him, still.

“Come on now, get up.” Jungkook scolds you, as he watches you sit on the couch.

“What?” You complain. “I’m cleaning.. under the coffee table.” You pretend, but he doesn’t take that as an appropriate answer.

“We agreed on one area at a time. We’re still in the kitchen.” He says. “now get over here and help me with the dishes. I wash, you dry.” He decides, making you somewhat reluctantly get up. It’s odd to have anyone in your apartment at all, since not even staff is allowed inside- you constantly find and make up excuses to keep them out at all times. This is your only safe space, after all.

The only place no one is looking at you.

“yesterday..” jungkook slowly says, putting another plate towards you so you can dry it. “..you said that the company owns you.” He remembers, and you nod. “To what degree?”

“I have an independence license.” You say. An independence license is basically a permanent permit to live on your own, and also work on your own. Basically, with it, you don’t need an owner at all. “But.. the company has full control over my finances and such. And they own my, you know, brand name.” You shrug.

“I meant it, you know?” He tells you, draining the sink of the soapy water. “I’ll try and figure something out.”

“Don’t bother.” You simply say. “it doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Jungkook denies, drying his hands on a towel. But you stay silent as you put the dishes away in their proper places, not really sparing him any glance at all again.

Jungkook doesn’t really know yet how to help you. First, he wants to somehow get into contact with your parents and set things right again- maybe he can get their names and phone number from jimin who’s been working you for a good while now. And then, maybe they can help, too.

“I’m tired.” You complain as you sit down on the now finally somewhat clean floor, all the trash in bags and in a corner.

“You can take a nap.” Jungkook agrees, and you look at him with positive surprise.

“wait, really?!” You ask, tail wagging a little.

“sure. You’ve been working hard.” He approves. “and now that your couch isn’t cluttered, you can take a proper nap there.”

“Why not my bed?” You whine, disappointed.

“bed is for proper sleep. Couch is for naps.” He explains. “if you go to bed now you’ll just start rotting again.”

You stay quiet for a good moment, before you speak again, looking out the windows, curtains by now pulled open. Slowly, you walk over to the couch to sit down on, staring at your hands in your lap.

“I’m such a fuck up, am I not?” You sigh. “imagine if people knew how much of a failure I am.”

“You’re not a failure.” Jungkook denies, sitting down next to you on the couch. “just.. a bit lost at the moment.”

“Jungkook..” you say quietly, looking at his chest. “I really want to go home.” You admit, and he smiles softly.

“I know. And I’ll figure out a way, promise.” He offers, opening his arms. And much to his surprise, you take the invitation- even so much as to crawl onto his lap, leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a lot more than he thought this was going to be, but he also can’t deny that this feels oddly comforting for him too.

And even though your tail is still limp and lifeless, at least you’re starting to open up. And maybe jimin was right after all.

Maybe you’re just acting tough.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook quickly learns that you really must’ve left home at a very young age- because you’re very much completely lost in translation when it comes to general tasks that fall onto someone when they live alone.

You’ve got no idea how to properly do laundry, you don’t know how to cook at all, and you have no idea what cleaning products to use for what. When he asked you if you had some window cleaner, you’d stared at him for a good second before you asked him why he can’t just use soap- and cooking in your book is simply boiling water for instant noodles.

It’s no wonder your apartment was in the state it was in. No one ever taught you how to look after yourself and your own home.

“Alright?” Jungkook asks while you stare at the washing machine with a determined gaze.

“put the clothes in, put the soap-squishy-thing in, close the door and then set it to that program there.” You repeat. Jungkook nods.

“But-?” He presses, and you stare at him for a second, thinking.

“But...uh..” you try and find an answer. “no colored stuff with white clothes? And no black with colors?” You try, and he grins, tail wagging.

“Good girl. See? You’re not dumb, you just didn’t know.” He praises. “now press start and then we can go laze around a little until it’s done.” He says, making you happily press the start button.

Something that Jungkook has noticed, is that the entire apartment seems oddly.. sterile almost, in that it looks and feels taken straight out of a magazine. You’ve got no thing personal it seems like, no blankets that aren’t a neutral color, no toys, no plushies despite you telling him by now that you love these things. Instead, you only really have your little gaming console and that’s it- your bedroom is mostly taken over by designer clothes and shoes, as well as all sorts of accessories. The bathroom contains shelves full of skincare for face and body, but everything else appears to be not at all to be your personality.

“You can get yourself some new blankets for the couch now that we’ve cleaned up.” Jungkook mentions, but at that you simply begin to pout next to him, legs pulled close to you as you slide down a little, slouching.

“Nah, they’ll say no.” You huff, watching the TV commercial play.

So you really meant it when you said that the company has full control over your money. He believed it might just involve big spendings, which would make sense- but it looks like it more so involves every single purchase you make instead.

“How long is your contract?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I think forever.” You say, flopping to the side, legs hanging off to the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Thats.. not legal.” Jungkook frowns. “did you never renew it?”

“Huh?” Your ears tilt towards him for a second. He still wonders why one of your ears is floppy these days. “..no. I don’t think I ever did.”

“I.. how long have you been with them?” He asks, and you hold your hands in front of you to start counting. And the more fingers you seem to add, the more concerned he becomes.

“Well, I uh.. wait, I left when I was..” you mumble to yourself. “and now that I’m.. I think eleven years?” You answer, looking at him.

The maximum contract length for hybrids is five years.

Five.

“I.. okay, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and you nod, slowly sitting up. “next time you’re at your company’s HQ, try and get a hold of a copy of your contract. But don’t tell anyone what you need it for.” He says.

If he can get a copy of whatever slave contract you’re under, getting you out of it will be easy. There’s strict laws for hybrids in place after all- one can’t just work them like pets, there’s rules every company has to follow. And that is the same in your industry as well.

“am I gonna go to jail?” You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“No no, you did nothing wrong.” He denies, reaching out to pet your head- pleasantly surprised when you visibly accept the gesture.

Because he speaks the truth. You did nothing wrong.

You were simply used from the start.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

On Monday, jungkook is standing at your door, 7 AM.

And you really, really do not want to go with him.

“Come on now-“ he urges again, pulling on your fluffy sweater while you cling to the doorframe of your apartment building entrance, having just seen what exactly Jungkook uses as his preferred means of transportation.

“No, you’re not getting me on that death-trap, no way in hell!” You complain, escaping his grasp just for a second before his arms are around your middle, easily removing your fingers from the door with a smile sent towards the security guard as reassurance, before he carries your struggling body towards his Harley. “No!” You complain. “This is kidnapping! Abduction!” You cry out, before he puts the helmet he’d gotten recently on your head, hands fastening the strap beneath your chin before he gets onto the motorcycle as well, sitting in front of you.

And the second it roars to life, you’re clinging to him with arms and legs involved, resulting in Jungkook adjusting your grip a little to not strangle him.

Well- at least he’s not driving fast.

“I hate you.” You complain when he removes the helmet again in the underground parking lot beneath the dance studio, pupils still blown wide, cheeks a bit flushed.

“If you just got up yourself like a big girl, I wouldn’t have to drive you.” He easily tells you, helping you down from the vehicle. “we’ll do this again and again until you learn.” He explains, stepping into the elevator with you- still lowly growling to yourself, pissed off at his attitude.

You’re not a kid. He’s stupid.

But it does work, because at least you somewhat practice with him for a few hours, before you stubbornly lay down starfish style in the middle of the practice room, demanding a break- one he grants for once, even if it’s just ten minutes.

“I really don’t wanna go to that contest.” You huff, half of your face squished against the shiny floorboards. Jungkook slowly walks towards you, squatting down to flick his finger against one of your ears that’s again, a little floppy today.

“I know.” He answers, because he does still remember your outburst, devastating cries edged into his mind.

“Hey Jungkook?” you ask, as he absent-mindedly rubs your ear between his fingers, almost enchanted by the softness of it.

“Yeah?” He answers, noticing the way you clearly enjoy such a simple touch to the fullest. You’re constantly surrounded by people, and yet it’s clear that you’re touch-starved and just treated like a doll and nothing else. How lonely must you have been until now?

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “or a boyfriend?” You wonder, leaning into his hand with closed eyes.

“No.” He answers, unsure and most of all suspicious.

“nice.” You smile, tail wagging softly. “I’m your girlfriend then.” You decide, and he freezes.

“...what?” He asks, sitting down now, a water bottle next to his crossed legs. “You can’t.. that’s not how it works.” He explains, but you shrug.

“My mom and my dad didn’t like each other either.” You reply, staring at nothing ahead, chin on your hands. “they just.. got together out of convenience. Cause they were the same hybrid breed, and I guess didn’t have anyone else at the time.” You mumble. “love isn’t real anyways. I’m pretty- isn’t that enough for you to like me?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with a gaze so.. detached that it makes him feel pity.

Is that your view on the world around you?

“You are pretty.” He responds. “but that’s not a foundation for.. a relationship.” He shakes his head.

“I don’t mind that you’re a mix.” You shrug. “you’re handsome, I’m pretty, and I have money.” You say. “if we get together thousands will flock to your dance studio. You’ll be super successful. “ You propose to him. “doesn’t even have to be for long. You can just.. I don’t know. Spend some time with me until you get bored, and then move on.”

“No.” He denies again. You frown.

“Huh.” You huff, slowly sitting up. “whatever then, I guess.”

“Do you even like me?” he asks you, confused, and you shrug before nodding.

“You’re nice. A bit stick-up-you-ass, but overall nice.” You offer.

Jungkook just watches you for a second, in full disbelief at what had been done to you. Raised in a place of luxury, with a golden spoon in your mouth and lies fed daily to create the view you have on everything around you right now. No kindness without some ulterior motive fits your reality. Everything has to be convenient for everyone involved.

“I don’t want a relationship without love, no matter what I might gain from it.” He explains himself, and you roll your eyes, before you flop onto your back, arms crossed again as you sulk. “You shouldn’t settle for less either.”

“Yeah well I wont get that.” You answer. “no one wants me. They want.. her.” You say, while twirling the silver name tag from around your neck in your fingers.

Until he leans over you, body entirely covering yours for a second, causing you to become nervous and wide eyed at his bold move. He’s looking at your neck, and you’re sure he must’ve realized what’s in it for him- after all, everyone is out for something to gain.

His hands move around your neck, fingers warm. You close your eyes as his face draws closer, awaiting the inevitable.

When suddenly, the collar around your neck is undone, and pulled off your neck.

“what-“ you ask, eyes open again as you watch him still above you, now looking into your eyes, and no longer anywhere else.

“I don’t want her.” He says, referring to the name on the tag around your neck that’s now in his hand, pushed into the floorboards where he holds himself up.

“But I’d like to get to know you instead.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

842 notes · View notes

qwimblenorrisstan · 8 months ago

Text

COD:MW Masterlist

🥀 = Angst 🌼 = Fluff

🌸 = Comfort 🌹 = Smut

Request Guidelines

Task Force 141 (Includes all group ships)

~ A Smoke For 3 | Price x Reader x Gaz 🌹🌹

Summary: You, a new and bold recruit, decide to inform Price that smoking is bad for him, and he and Gaz proceed to figure out that smoking is also very bad for you after they tag-team you.

~ Cuddles with 141 (+Roach!) 🌼🌸

Summary: How I think Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost and Roach would cuddle + little blurbs.

~ Held | Ghost x Price 🥀🌸

Summary: While on leave, Simon can’t seem to get to sleep properly, and Price knows just the thing to help.

~ Trophy | 141 x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: When the MacTavish Clan raids a neighboring clan who grew a bit too bold, they don’t expect to find the feisty, beaten wife of the other clan’s chief.

~ Replacement | 141 x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After Soap is injured in the field, you, a replacement alpha, are added to the 141 as a replacement. However, after months of neglect, you have a breakdown, and they have to confront their actions and treat you right. (Omegaverse | a/b/o)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Platonic!141

~ Undying Stupidity 🌼

Summary: After raiding a strange facility, 141 takes you back to base with them, where they interrogate you, and after shooting you in the head, quickly discover that you’re an immortal.

~ ParkRanger!Reader &/x Reader Hc’s🌼

Summary: You, a park ranger, discover that your group of oddly friendly animal friends might not be what you originally thought they were.

~ Found | 141 & Reader 🥀🌼🌸

Summary: When you’re introduced to your new foster parents, a bear hybrid, harpy, werewolf and wraith, four big scary men, you’re not sure about how things are going to turn out. Your first day with them turns out more okay than you expected.

Intro | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

~ Surprise | Soap x Reader🥀🌼

Summary: After a mission that they barely survived, Ghost leads the team to a safe place to stay, his half-sister’s apartment.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

~ The Bet | Soap x Reader 🌹🌹

Summary: After a drunken bet Johnny didn’t think you’d take seriously, he ends up beneath you in bed, figuring out just how literally you took it.

John Price

~ Lesson Learnt | John Price x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Your good-for-nothing boyfriend won’t help you change out your flat tire in the cold, soaking rain, but luckily someone else comes along to assist, and teaches your boyfriend a lesson while he’s at it.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ Forgive Me | John Price x Reader 🥀🌸🌹

Summary: After a rough day, Price gets home and accidentally raises his voice at you, leading to plenty of apologies, and making up for his mistake.

~ Five More Minutes | John Price x Reader 🌼🌹

Summary: Your stubborn boyfriend is working at home late into the night, and you’re missing him, so why not let him work while he makes up for being absent?

~ Just Surviving | StepDad!Price & Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Price’s relationship with you, his wife’s daughter from another partner, isn’t the greatest, but he’s willing to try, and after a rough day at school, it seems he’s got a chance.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

~ Pent Up | Ghost x M!Reader 🌹🌼🌹

Summary: Simon comes home from a mission pent up and missing his boyfriend.

~ Perspective | Ghost x Reader 🥀🌸🌹

Summary: Simon Riley has always thought of himself as broken and undeserving of you, but you’re always there to quiet his intrusive thoughts.

~ Regrets | Ghost x Reader 🌹🥀🌸

Summary: After a rough night, Simon treats you a bit too roughly, and tries to make it up to you.

~ Rediscovered | CBF! 09’ Ghost x/& Reader 🌸🌼

Summary: After meeting in elementary school, you and Simon hit it off, becoming best friends before miscommunications leads you two to lose contact for years, before meeting again at an airport.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

~ Stains | Gaz x Reader 🌸🌸

Summary: After the worst day possible, Kyle is there to comfort you with all of your favorite things.

~ Perfect | Gaz x Reader 🌼🌹

Summary: After you and Kyle’s lovely wedding, you can’t help but find yourself a bit nervous for your first time, luckily, your husband is there to reassure you.

~ Spared | Gaz x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After your good-for-nothing husband abandons you in the face of danger, Kyle takes matters into his own hands.

~ Honored | Gaz x Reader 🌹🌹

Summary: Gaz learns quickly that you, a new member of their team, don’t take well to his sarcasm, and he has a devastating run-in with ‘attitude readjustment’.

Gary “Roach” Sanderson

~ Leaf Pile | Roach x/& Reader 🌼

Summary: You find a very lost, mute, British soldier in your very American base, and someone had the audacity to knock over his pile of leaves.

König

~ Pumpernickel | König x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night to find your husband gone, only to discover him in the kitchen, baking…bread?

~ Bubbles | König x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: When Task Force 141 joins together with KorTac for a mission, he doesn’t expect the bubbly member of the 141 to give his entire base a Christmas surprise.

~ Happy Accidents | König x Reader 🌸🌼

Summary: König has always had trouble feeling safe and secure, that was until he accidentally stumbled into your apartment late at night.

Other

~ Stitching Us Together 🥀🌸🌼

Summary: Brianna Riley, Charlotte Garrick, Isla MacTavish and John Price Jr, a close group of childhood friends, investigate a strange shadowy figure that had been poking around Isla’s front yard with a flashlight, leading to a plot larger than they could’ve imagined.

Part 1 | Part 2

297 notes · View notes

chihoshisai · 21 days ago

Text

Double Arrangement

Sabo x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

cw : royalty au, strangers to lovers, arranged/political engagement, reader is royalty, sabo is cold (but will warm up over time in other chapters), angst, minor physical assault // wc : 4.246 words // a/n : if you wish to be added to the taglist please send me an ask, it's easier for me to know that way !

tags : @ozzities

Part 6

A rather loud ruckus had blossomed since you last came, and amidst it all, ignoring the looks and whistling of rude commoners, you spotted your brother seated at a table with Ace. Once more your mind started to pace at the connection he shared with Sabo, you took a seat beside your sibling rather than asking to be brought home as you initially wanted.

Their conversation had already come to a halt once they had spotted you, resulting in the limelight to shine in your direction.

“Had a fun time?” Your brother snickered, and you gave him a slight shove of the shoulder, courtesy of not having your older sibling nor mother present.

“I hope Sabo wasn't too boring if anything,” Ace spoke rather politely, pushing a plate of various nuts in your direction.

“Oh not at all,” you waved a hand in the air to refuse the food. “He was charming,” you deliberately voiced sarcastically, emphasizing the last word. And for once you couldn’t blame him for the chuckle your brother gave behind his glass. Your insides still flushed with embarrassment from your behavior but you grasped at hope knowing other occasions would present themselves to salvage the failed attempt at intimacy that happened.

The eyes of Ace went from one face to another, “really?” he spoke with a raised eyebrow. “Sabo, charming?” A smirk couldn’t help but paint a part of his face, raising delicate freckles to shine brighter under the light of the guild. “Lots of gals do tend to fall for him, so I guess that’s not entirely inaccurate.”

A loud crash came to resonate in the background ; a commotion had grown out of hands thanks to Luffy, now giggling on the floor. It caused some to turn their neck in his direction momentarily, including the attention of Ace. However, your eyebrows had furrowed at his last sentence and at the possibility that your fiance might be… popular? With his attitude it seemed unlikely.

“He’s engaged.” You firmly said.

Feigning ignorance, the voice of your sibling came to ask with arched eyebrows and malicious squinted eyes towards you brimming with a thousand underlying meanings, “is he?”

You restrained yourself to a cold side eye for the sake of the newly acquainted person that shared your table.

“Not for long,” Ace shrugged, “he said he was planning on canceling it soon. But who am I to say, Sabo doesn’t like when the subject is brought up so it’s best if we don’t speak about it.”

“What a shame for that poor girl he’s engaged with,” your brother muffled a laugh while putting down his drink, almost making you regret bringing him along at all.

“If anything this will give her the chance of a marriage with a more amusing husband,” Ace said with sympathy.

Recoiling anger towards your sibling you focused on Ace. “You say he’s not amusing, then how is he normally?”

A grin stretched the corner of Ace’s lips which appeared sincere under the halo of his freckles. “Sabo can act a bit unexpectedly at times but he’s protective, helpful and humble. Loyal and kind to everyone as well.”

“Never knew he could be like that,” your sibling feigned surprise by giving you a side look, as insufferable as he was.

You parted your lips to express a word, but rather found yourself overwhelmed with an invisible weight upon your heart and grey clouds restraining your thoughts, all bringing to a close the motion you had started with your jaw. Instead, a forced polite smile extended along your face while your head repetitively nodded slowly towards Ace. “I believe it’s time for us to head home,” you ultimately expressed, standing up from your seat.

“Already?” Your brother growned, yet posed his drink down as his proof of refusal to argue. He stood up while you ushered your last words to Ace.

“Thank you for keeping us company,” you bowed your head in respect, which seemed to have taken the raven-haired boy aback by the crease that formed between his eyebrows.

“No worries, hopefully we’ll see each other around,” and he raised his cup as a last salute while you weaved a fabricated smile.

“We’ll see about that,” you murmured under your breath while turning away, taking a head start towards the door.

------------

You appeared from a rather plainly ornate door you had respectfully jerked open. Knocking with a slightly breathless rising chest before doing so ; from the moment the carriage returned to the castle, you had rushed through a grooming session and made your way towards the king, head pumping with memories of your interaction with Sabo. "May I have a moment of your time, dear brother?”

"Ah!” His eyes met yours at the sound of your voice, “finally ready to talk about your recent adventure in town I gather?”

Seeing his raised eyebrows dried all moisture in your mouth — someone must've ratted you out, but far pressing matters were at hand than to worry about the identity of such a loose tongue, or worse, your brother's intelligence system.

"If you're in no mood, I can come back,” you exhibited a blank expression, making a movement to fully retract from the sitting room.

"No, stay and state your business,” your brother gestured for you to further advance as he crossed his legs with a neutral face and a well polished demeanor that hid away the subtle annoyance you perceived through his voice.

You did as instructed, the soft echo of your heels again't the carpet filling the room. "Say, don't you think our employees at the castle deserve a raise ?” You carefully asked, stopping to stand in his front view.

"Why?” He asked with visible interest.

"Hard work must be rewarded accordingly,” you spoke, now noticing the shift in seriousness that settled on your brother’s face through thin lips and a piercing gaze, due to the conversation subject having been laid. “Plus without any incidents from them in years, I believe our staff has been doing a great job.”

"Such as smuggling you out of the castle?” Exasperation flickered across his eyes for a moment.

"They've… helped me out at my request,” intensity found itself in your voice, seeing as it had trailed during its start.

Your brother's tone grew more pressing, "instead of reporting to me that you were engaging in folly?”

"The fault is mine, not theirs,” you quickly added.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is, you could have been hurt, something could have happened if someone recognized you,” his words expressed a mixture of worry and reproach, making you feel slightly guilty but also irritated at being scolded off for being acknowledged as incapable of independence outside your guilded circle.

Your mind preferred fuming at the words rather than sulk away at the guilt.

"Well thankfully an experienced young man was making sure it wasn't the case,” you spoke with a visible frown, expressing your disagreement by throwing shade onto a very important injustice, knowingly aware that this conversation would not be happening if your younger brother was the one standing instead of you.

He sighed, "Let's not—"

"Not talk about how it's okay for him to venture out but not me?" You interrupted with an irked tone, eyebrows raised at the stern look at the king's face.

He remained iron tight on his emotions and posture, changing the subject to avoid a conversation that had happened once too many times in the past, despite your outburst, "why did you even want to do such a thing?”

"To see the state of our kingdom under your rule, and to understand it,” you gave a half-truth, heart slightly pounding in your ears as your mind tried pushing away all thoughts of Sabo.

"And what did you think?” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"It could be worse I suppose, but these people could also do with more thanks to our generosity,” you tried, as an attempt to redirect the conversation to its original path, while your animosity decreased as well. There was no need for raised voices and arguments for another unreasonable request on your part. After all, you even took time with the formality of knocking rather than barging to help your case.

"Then why don't you get started in leading the horse?” He extended a hand your way, “if you care so much about it, maybe I'll consider following suit.”

You pondered a few seconds, surprised at being handed a possibility to head a project, whether real or false. "I'm not sure how... I've never really tried to bother about the common people's lives before. Let alone organise something outside of the palace,” you allowed yourself a vocal vulnerability in the hope of receiving guidance on his part.

"Share your concerns with your fiance, I'm sure he'll have an idea or two,” your sibling relaxed himself in the chair, sinking his back slightly in, which you took as his way of telling you he won't take a hand in this, busy as he was.

However, your thoughts pondered at his statement, thinking how much he truly knew about Sabo while furrowing your eyebrows, "maybe I will."

"Now at the sake of repeating myself, why did you really head down there ?”

His gaze felt piercing from his unchanged sitting position, analytical even, with no room for pleasantries and small talk now being over, and it suddenly felt as though you had grown small, powerless. He had, without you realizing, taken control of the conversation.

"Sabo,” you looked away to the side, skin growing hot and prickly.

He hummed in acknowledgement, "looks like efforts for a happy marriage are one sided.”

"Oh you have no idea,” you clearly mumbled sarcastically, avoiding his eyes still as your lips frowned. Were fiance supposed to make one this unhappy at the thought of them?

"That he asked you to up the wage of our workers and influenced you in the choice of your gown for the engagement ball? I have a clear idea of what's going on,” your brother spoke with tact, dropping information that resulted in your head turning his way, eyes expanding at his cleverness to have known all along.

Your heart leaped at having found someone who knew, "he thought I ran a background check on him!" you divulged in disbelief, taking strides around the room as you spoke with satisfaction at sharing your worries with someone trustworthy. “He's so quick to judgement based on my title while he's out there being all mysterious, doing who knows what.” Your hands navigated the air aimlessly as you spoke, “and God forbid I assume anything about him in return or he'll dislike me more!”

"Anyone would be suspicious if you discovered their secrets,” your brother shrugged.

Short lived enthusiasm made you halt. "Now you're defending him,” you dropped your arms to your side, annoyance painting your looks.

"He is a smart, admirable and passionate young man,” he matter-of-factly stated, as if that's all it took to defend someone.

You scoffed, suppressing an eye-roll, "definitely not passionate about me.”

"He'll support you and be there for you when needed,” Your brother gave a reassuring smile, leaving you to frown at him.

"Because that's what he's doing right now? Not ordering me around to leave him alone and to go against our family's ethics by changing the way you rule?”

"Give him time, I'm positive he'll be a great husband.”

Smoothing down your skirt in distraction after sharing unacknowledged feelings, worries and anxiety towards your fiance, it made you sense a lump at the bottom of your throat to see yourself be shut down and gaslit into liking Sabo’s alleged personality greatness which you failed to see.

Lightly, you spoke, "is that why you have engaged me to him? I assure you right now he's far from being a great fiance," the trembling of your voice made you realize a battle against tears that were long due was happening. "He freezes all my efforts and attempts towards him.”

"Don't be selfish now, he's the only suitable choice for you in this kingdom,” the voice came out as a diplomatic fact, not the compassion expected from a brother.

"Suitable? We're barely even compatible!" The ache from your throat escaped, and the battle was lost, for this time a silent tear ran down your cheek.

"Compatibility or not, what other choice do you have, sister?" He stood up, giving a quick glance at the dress skirt wrinkled under white knuckles, the increasing tormented rhythm of your chest accompanied with drowned eyes. "We do not foster quitters and weak minded individuals in our family, get a hold of yourself!” Whether he was angry or disappointed, you couldn't tell through your hearing alone, nor rely on your vision.

"I'm telling you Sabo will never marry me! You have not known him like I did,” you sniffled, feeling smaller and smaller towards an authority you couldn't defy nor the sibling you failed to find from the moment you entered the room.

"Cease your whining at once!” The order came as a reproach, telling you anger was near if you whined any further, “I will not have you bring humiliation to our household!" His footsteps approached themselves towards you, "how many more suitors must you go through before you're satisfied?” With lowered eyes, you took notice of his boots stopping in front of you while a hidden sob escaped at the touch of your brother grabbing your shoulders, shaking you slightly back and forth. You knew it was his way of telling you how ridiculous you were being at the moment.

"Would you have preferred I shipped you off to Ichiji in Germa after all the begging, pleas and proof you've shown to instead marry at home? I have always tried to please you, but I will not allow you to indulge in selfishness. Now please grit your teeth, smile and please that young man if you wish to remain here, because the Vinsmokes are still interested."

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but a chilling cold truth, and your fears increased into another sob, leaving a sigh to escape your brother’s lips before he pulled you in for a hug. “I’ll look into our budget and see how much I can spare for our staff. Do me a favor and keep this engagement going, will you?”

You nodded in the crook of his neck, which was all it took for him to put an end to the patting of your back — an icy wind spreading over your body as he let go of his embrace, giving one final look upon your glistening eyes with an encouraging smile before forging his path besides your hunched frame towards the door. For the remainder of the day, you slumbered into the nearest couch, allowing your emotions to run their desired treadmill time, feeling too exhausted to reach for the infirmary and waited, still as a statue until someone came and fetched you for sleep.

-----------

It was with tired eyes in bed that on the next morning you received an invitation from Sabo asking to meet at the noble’s shopping town. Yesterday’s emotional blows had yet to properly exit your body, which now felt groggy and heavy from the various damage. Under normal circumstances, your mind would be buzzing with expectations and questioning as to what could have possibly brought forward this summoning of his. Had he finally grown a soft spot for you ? Was this his way of recognizing your efforts and reciprocating in turn? The invitation seemed a silent attempt, perhaps a formally timid one to send a hand your way for you to reach. Your heart would have been fluttering with anticipation at that to see him, bubbling at possible conversation scenarios you would make up on the way while witnessing a possible change in his behavior.

Instead, you felt a sense of duty thundering over your shoulders, like the inevitable task of putting on a new gown every morning that could not be pushed to another day. The air around you grew weary despite the contrasting brightness the sun offered through your curtains; its golden rays trying to shine a helping light on your narrowed eyes glazing over every word on the card along with the grimness pulling down your lips and eyebrows which were dragging down the peaceful atmosphere of the room. Ultimately, an unthinkable thought and feeling coursed through your body.

You were tired.

But most importantly, you didn't want to see Sabo.

Despite these feelings, the truth remained you had worked so incredibly hard to even get a crumb of Sabo’s attention that throwing it all away at the first opportunity would be a waste. Plus you had to admit that your brother had some truth in his words last night; that perhaps you had been selfish in requesting a fiance from home, regardless of who and that perhaps ruining your own chances of remaining in your homeland because of your rarely poor decisional skills wasn't such a great idea. Sensing the softness of your mattress and the delicate silk of your sheets, your mind wandered back to your first morning in Germa.

To your surprise, the bed had felt of poorer quality despite its attempt at appearing luxurious. Needless to say your sleep had been of mediocre standard as well throughout the night, prompting you to exit the sheets the moment you noticed the first ray of sunlight travel the room. It was also with raised eyebrows that you noticed what looked like a pale-looking maid. Her complexion being sunken confirmed the suspicion you grew of her possibly being underfed and that she could collapse at the simple nudge. You greeted her good morning, only to be met with an unsettling silence. A silence which perpetuated as she helped you dress with unsteady hands. She would flinch whenever your eyes would glance in her direction, making it by far the most uncomfortable morning routine you had walked through. You stepped aside the dressing screens positioned in a corner of the room to stop in your tracks at the noticing presence of an unforeseen guest leaning close to the doorframe.

“Excuse me, did you knock?” You furrowed questionable eyebrows in the direction of who you remembered to be Ichiji during introductions the night before. Both of your hands ran across your yet to be done hair, assembling them to one side of your neck.

“What?” Regardless of his calm demeanors, Ichiji seemed at a loss concerning your question seeing by the displeasure on his lips.

You discreetly moved closer to the dressing table, keeping your eyes on him, “I don't recall hearing you knocking, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh, that’s because I didn’t knock,” he gave a smirk. “Why should I, when this is my kingdom,” he strolled about the room, letting his finger trail on the furniture, as if to prove his point.

Disturbance wished to appear on your features at his claim and assertive demeanor, but instead, it headed for your heart, making it thump all the way to your head. “Might I remind you that I’m your guest. Of a different gender.”

“What are you trying to say, woman?” He purposefully accentuated the last words with a smirk that left the hair rising behind your neck in fright.

That I require some privacy, you wanted to hurl at him, but instead you gave a placid smile. “What brought you so early then? Is there some sort of emergency I should be made aware of?”

“There is no emergency, no. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” he shrugged with a pace that deliberately drew him closer to the dressing table.

Secretly wishing you hadn’t aimed for a destination that would easily reduce the reassuring distance with him, you stood your ground. Doing so despite the unmistakable bitter repulsiveness that grew at the back of your throat, perplexed that someone upholding a title would treat respectable guests like a property of their homeland.

Ichiji took your silence as a sign to continue. “I wanted to get an early look at the person who will eventually be my wife,” a snarky, proud and lustful look poised his features as he finally finished his journey to stand in front of you.

This time an incredulous subtle laugh couldn’t help but escape you. It took a vein to bulge on his forehead for you to clear your throat in self-realisation. “You jest, my family and I are here only for diplomatic reasons.”

“And what exactly do you think diplomatic reasons are? Politics aren’t just all about eating dinner in another country’s palace to discover the cuisine and taking a walk in the garden.” His tone had grown displeased. “Politics happens behind closed doors.”

“You’re lying,” you said in weak defiance, though your hands were now clutching the fabric of your dress and the thumping of your heart growing fearful resonated loud enough you feared he might hear.

Irritated, Ichiji's lips curved further downward, bringing along your regret as to sharing your mind. The breezy speed of his following action took you by surprise — his left hand, without allowing the chance for you to see, positioned itself to the back of your head, bringing it closer to him while his right hand aimed for your mouth, covering it in a muting matter while also rendering your head immobile.

An involuntary muffled sound escaped your lips in the moment while your mind spun to process what happened. The tangibility of your reality manifested through the reflection you could see of yourself, of your frightful growing eyes, through his sunglasses, as his remained hidden.

“You're lucky it's me you're marrying,” Ichiji spoke in a steady voice, his breath feeling warm on your skin. “If it was one of my brothers you said this to, they would have long since already struck you for your impertinence. That being said, it doesn't mean I don't have my own limit,” he slightly enhanced the pressure over your face, which in turn made your breathing more ragged. “I’m more patient and tolerant but not necessarily kinder. I'll let it slide for now as a warning, but if you push my buttons too much you might not get out of it unscathed.”

Burning seized your eyes. They threatened to cry, for never once in your life had you been treated with such ruthlessness. Your mind wandered back to the countless staff you had come across over last night’s arrival and understood the reason behind their recoiled behaviors. If things seemed peaceful and harmonious over dinner, a cold bucket of water had now been splattered all over your conscience to make you realize that these people — or at least Ichiji — were heartless creatures.

“Don’t try to talk big here and you’ll live a happy life. Make yourself small and try to please me, and you’ll be met with countless riches,” his grip eased slightly on your head to instead stroke the hair over your neck. “I wouldn’t want you to disobey and cross a line. It would be a shame to hit your face and I certainly don’t want to have to strike where skin is hidden underneath all these layers,” he said rather calmly to your frozen face, giving your mouth a last warning squeeze before sliding down to effortlessly grasp one of your hands in his, ignoring how willingly it clung to your dress.

Your jaw hardened to prevent broken words from seeing the world. Your eyelids blinked remarkably fast to stop all emotions from spilling over. Your hand remained limp in the cold touch of Ichiji. Your ears picked up how quiet the room had gotten while your conscience ran its course. To think that two simple words were enough to bring forward such misfortune baffled you.

It scared you.

Disgust and anxiety had long since left, leaving place for grounded fear to succeed as you ran your eyes across Ichiji’s furrowed eyebrows and intimidating look. In this turmoil of insecurity, a small flame representing anger lit up at the bottom of your heart, soon to turn into a blaze once you had confirmed with your eldest brother whether or not this whole marriage claim had been true.

“The sun is getting higher,” Ichiji snapped you back to the present, “maid, come and do this girl’s hair so she can come down and have breakfast with the rest of us,” he ordered loudly.

The maid, which you had completely forgotten the existence of until now, left her hiding spot from behind the dressing screen with a lowered head to hastily take place by your side. You internally sympathized with her fear, and wondered how many beating she had taken until now.

“I’ll head downstairs to tell the others you’ll be a little late because you spent a while getting ready. Do me a favor by looking as such. Doing an intricate braided hairstyle wouldn’t be a bad idea either and I would love to see that on you,” Ichiji requested, bending down to give the back of your hand a soft kiss that had you take in a deep breath to hide the lump that rose up from your throat.

Watching him go towards the door with a sentiment of relief that slacked to arrive, you crumbled down on the hair dresser’s hair, gasping for air. The thought of having to spend two more days in such a location seemed unfeasible.

--------

Part 7 in progress

106 notes · View notes