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scottiexmariee · 3 months ago

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Ok so I've been loving all if the stuff you've been putting out so far, it's literally so good!!! My request is how the lads would react to you falling down the stairs and I'm talking like a long stream of stairs (totally not bc I fell down the stairs today while watching sylus edits hehehe)

First of all, omg, I am so sorry but I giggled. I hope you're okay!

Here you go, anon. I hope this is what you had in mind! Do me a favor and ban yourself from watching Sylus edits near stairs!!

How the boys would react to you falling down the stairs

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader Warnings: Stairs are your biggest op.

(little bit of falling, little bit of fluff. Lots of love for anon)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

☆ Man would be mortified.

☆ He turned his back for two seconds, next thing he knows you're takin a tumble

☆ Would most likely ban you from being near stairs by yourself again

☆ “You can take down wanderers, but lose a fight against stairs?”

☆ Would let you lean on him for support the rest of the night (he knows it hurt)

The elevator to your shared apartment building had broken down. By the time the two of you had arrived home to find that out, it was 11pm, and far too late for maintenance to come out to fix it. You were stuck taking the stairs until maintenance arrived tomorrow morning.

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However, your day had been excruciatingly long, and the stairs were more of an obstacle and a hinderance than they should have been. Your body was sore, your legs felt like jelly, and you really hated stairs in general.

Xavier looked down at you, stifling a laugh at the exasperated expression on your face. "I could always just carry you," He offered, extending his hand.

Whether it was your pride or your stubbornness, you couldn't accept. "I'm fine," You insisted, although it sounded like you were reassuring yourself more than Xavier. "You're tired too. Go ahead, I'm right behind you," You would very quickly find out that your last statement aged like milk left out in the sun.

Xavier shot you one last skeptical glance before he turned and began walking up the stairs. You followed suit, doing a decent job until you stepped wrong and lost your balance. Your arms flailed, successfully grabbing on to nothing. The only audible indication that you were about to fall was the startled gasp that left your mouth, which caught Xavier's attention with just enough time left to helplessly watch you fall.

You stumbled backward, colliding with every single one of the 13 steps on your way down. Every single stair caused a painful shock and an even bigger dent to your ego.

Xavier was kneeling by your side in an instant.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. He helped you sit up, carefully eyeing you for any visible injuries. You were very sore, but luckily not seriously injured. At most, you'd likely be bruised in the morning.

You let out a huff of air, stifling a pained grunt in the process. "Well, that was embarrassing,"

Xavier stared at you, wide-eyed and looking like he was 3 seconds away from calling an ambulance.

"Xav. I'm alright," You insisted, twisting to lift yourself up.

Xavier intervened, quickly scooping you up before you could get to your feet.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "You're banned from stairs,"

With that, he began walking back up the stairs you'd just tumbled down. While you were nearly dying from the embarrassment, Xavier actually didn't mind carrying you. In fact, he'd rather carry you up and down every flight of stairs you encountered for the rest of your life if it meant he wouldn't witness another fall like that again.

Once you were safely at the top, he gently set you down outside of your apartment, making sure to keep hold of you in case you were unsteady on your feet.

"I can stand," You assured him. You were still heavily embarrassed, but ultimately thankful that he was so sweet.

He kept an arm on you until your door was unlocked.

"Is it too soon to say you should have accepted my offer the first time?"

You shot him a glare, although it lacked any real heat.

"I think I should stick around for the night, just in case you happen to encounter anymore stairs,"

❅ Professional Zayne mode engaged immediately

❅ Depending on how bad the fall was, you're getting a full body exam before you're even allowed off the floor

❅ and that's not it, either

❅ You think you might bruise? Cold Compress. 15 Minutes. Now.

❅ Man will be stressed for the rest of his life any time you're in the same vicinity as a single stair

Zayne had lost track of the amount of times he'd warned you to be slower coming down the stairs. Every single time you came down them, two at a time and at a speed that was less than acceptable, he'd get heart palpitations, convinced that this was the time you were going to fall.

It was coming, and he knew it. He warned you. You, however, tore through the house like a woman on a mission. You had a habit of learning the hard way, and you're simply too prideful to take his warnings seriously.

Until about 30 seconds ago.

You don't even remember what you were going to tell him. You'd been upstairs, he'd been downstairs. You raced down the stairs, coming in hot, and somehow miscalculated a step about halfway down.

That fall that Zayne had warned you about numerous times was finally a reality, and damn it was painful.

Zayne, from the kitchen, heard what sounded suspiciously like a body bouncing off the stairs and immediately stopped what he was doing to come check on you.

He rounded the corner, and there you were in all your glory: dazed, disoriented, and sore with a bloody lip serving as the cherry on top.

"Don't move," He said gently, kneeling at your side. With well trained eyes, he began looking you over. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," You groaned. It was true. 30 seconds ago you were having the time of your life, and now you felt like you'd been hit by a semi truck.

The next 10 minutes consisted of Zayne thoroughly checking every limb, asking you to answer various questions ("what day is it? What year is it? Time? Count backwards from 10. What comes after W?") and forcibly holding an icepack to your lip.

He ended up carrying you to the couch, gently laying you down so he could continue what he was doing while simultaneously babysitting you.

He did not hit you with an "I told you so,"

Not yet, anyway.

However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking for a house that didn't have stairs.

❀ He'd hear it from the other room and think a tree fell on his studio or something

❀ "Is it storming? I swear I heard thunder,"

❀ He'd make sure you were okay, but he's definitely teasing you about it later

❀ "I'm looking for a new bodyguard. Mine can't even handle a staircase,"

❀ definitely makes a moment post later on

❀ ^ "thought it was storming earlier. turns out it was just (Y/N) getting in a fight with stairs and losing. 10/10 ambience though,"

❀ on a separate occasion, I can see you both falling at the same time and blaming each other for it

While Rafayel was occupied with his current project, boredom had gotten the best of you. You began exploring the studio, surprised to find a set of stairs that you hadn't noticed before. Upon further inspection, they lead to an attic.

Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. You couldn't help yourself.

Was Rafayel an attic man? What sorts of trinkets did he stash up there? The questions were burning too hot to go unanswered.

Unfortunately, it was mostly old paint supplies and boxes of random decorations that had been retired. You were left a little unsatisfied, but you had gotten an answer.

As you began to retreat, you realized the stairs felt a lot steeper than they did on the way up.

It didn't take long for you to lose your footing. The sounds that filled the air were a symphony of thuds and curses.

After laying on the ground for a few minutes, trying to recover, you opened your eyes to see Rafayel standing above you.

"You good?" He asked, kneeling down. "I kinda thought you died,"

"I'm not good, but I'm not dead."

He gently checked you over and then extended a hand to help you up.

"I think you should stay away from stairs," He drawled, leading you toward the couch. "and I also think you should sit here and recover from that,"

You plopped on the couch, too tired to protest.

Rafayel studied you for a moment longer, wanting to make sure you were truly alright before he began the teasing. It was his way of lightening the mood. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You reassured him that yes, you were alright. He sat next to you, casually tossing an arm around your shoulders.

"Good, because we need to talk about your Bodyguard skills. You need training or something. You just lost a fight to some stairs,"

⟡ He was never worried about you around stairs before

⟡ but he's absolutely having remodeling done within the next 24 hours now

⟡ you are getting absolutely BABIED by this man the second he comes to your aid

⟡ You're not even lifting a fork, sweetie

⟡ You're getting tossed over his shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes if stairs can't be avoided in the future

⟡ You're not going to get hurt again if he can help it

At times, Sylus thought it was cute when you shut your brain off around him. He knew that it meant you felt safe, and it filled him with warmth whenever he stopped to think about it.

He'd place a tactical hand over the corner of the table when you bent down to pick something up, just in case you bumped your head again, you'd hit his hand instead of the corner.

He'd gently guide you when you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, too engrossed in your conversation to look for obstacles.

You really only did it when you two were at the base. Sylus didn't mind, though. In fact, it was almost endearing, the way you were comfortable enough to turn off your spatial awareness.

He couldn't always be around to steer you away from obstacles, though.

And you, unfortunately, had a habit of walking around while looking at your phone instead of where your feet were going.

You'd done it again today. But this time, it had caused a problem.

You were walking down the stairs to get a drink, completely fixated on a video you were watching, not a single worry in the world about the steps. Sylus had chided you for it before, but it had never been an issue....until now.

You stepped too far forward and immediately ate shit the rest of the way down the stairs. Your phone clattered to the floor, ending up several feet away. Mephisto witnessed the entire thing and had the nerve to squawk at you.

To add insult to injury, Sylus just so happened to be rounding the corner just in time to see your disheveled figure crumpled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

He was careful not to jostle you when he knelt down.

"Can you move?"

You wiggled your fingers, your toes. Flexed your wrist, rotated your arms. Despite the horrendous pain in your side, you could still move. You answered his question with a nod.

He picked you up as gently as he could, holding you princess style with both arms, being extra careful.

"Were you on your phone?" He asked, already eyeing the evidence on the floor. The screen was shattered, but the sound of the video you'd been watching was still coming through the speakers. He'd warned you about walking distracted before, but was usually there to be a hero. Not this time.

"Maybe,"

He refused to get more than three feet away from you for the next several hours, constantly offering to get you various things you may need. Water? He's on it. A snack? You bet. Heating pad? Consider it done.

If you had known that accidentally falling down the stairs would cause Sylus to get all soft and cradle you like you were made of glass for the next few hours, you'd have fallen on purpose a lot sooner.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #lnds xavier #lnds rafayel #lnds sylus #lnds zayne #lads zayne #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader

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solelifauna · 3 months ago

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Oooh i really like that!!! The batfam who possessive,unhelthy protective toward each other except reader (fortunately or unfortunately 😅) I would like to know more about the other members too. What was the trigger who make them like that toward each other?

(Sorry if the english is bad , i'm belgian )

OHHHH, I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK!!!

Oof, starting out with Bruce Wayne. This man has been through it. He'd already been a little obsessive, considering his response to his parent's death was to dress up as a bat and beat people up. This, plus how he vies for control so much it becomes an obsession. It starts off with Dick, his first son. He didn't really plan to become as attached as he did tbh, he just didn't want the kid dying out on the streets, seeking the same type of retribution he also once sought. Dick was, to say the least, tough to deal with. He didn't want Bruce as a dad, Dick already had a dad and he was dead. But as days and patrols went on, Bruce became B, and on certain nights when Dick wakes up trembling, B becomes dad. And that cements it. Bruce was now a dad.

Then comes Jason. The kid was a riot, having the balls to jack tires off of the Batmobile and having the audacity to hit him with the tire jack too! Bruce knew Jason would be his son then and there, no question. Sure, Jason was a bit scared now, but once he settled in, it felt like everything was in place. He never stopped being a riot, reading and coming up with quick quips like nobody else. Eventually, Jason came to find out about Bruce's night job, and bada-bing-bada-bang, the second robin was ready to take on the streets. Dick wasn't too happy but its fine, turns out Dick ended up loving the kid just as much as him. Which is why Jason's death completely sent Bruce over the edge. His boy, his, killed by that god awful clown. It takes everything in his body to not rip the joker in two.

"It wouldn't be what Jason wanted", he tells himself as he brutalizes another petty thief. He says as he nurses another glass of brandy. He says as he benches Dick and starts another screaming match. But he doesn't care, he can't lose another son.

Then incomes little Tim Drake. He almost gets whiplash when this tiny little boy enters his office, thick folder in hand with a determined look in his eyes. Tim drake says his piece,

"You're killing Gotham."

"You're killing yourself."

"You need a robin."

"I can be Robin."

Those words set him off. Jason. His precious son-dead because of his crusade. the word "no" leaves his mouth stronger than he intends. He doesn't remember much about the exchange after that, but he remembers Alfred escorting a glaring Tim Drake out of his office. The folder remains on his desk, pictures, and documents askew. He opens it once more half-heartedly, his gaze blurring with tears as he looks down. Pictures. Hundreds of them, ones of him and Dick, of Him and Jason, and dick and Jason. He cries silently in his study that night. But it doesn't stop there, Tim Drake is persistent. He tells him to stop, but there's no quelling Tim. He follows him on patrols, stopping him when he gets too violent, and calling ambulances while Bruce tries to dampen the rage in his body.

Eventually, everything blows up one day, he yells at Drake, telling him to get lost or else he'd end up dying out here, dying like Jason. Tim never does stop. Instead, somehow, he now finds himself spending his nights with another little black-haired, blue-eyed boy. This one smaller than the last. He doesn't grow attached this time, he swears he won't. But it's hard not to love the boy. His witty banter, his long rants, and his insane cognitive skills, making even Bruce marvel at him. He's not Jason, he reminds himself, but it doesn't matter. He finds himself loving Tim Drake all on his own. Dick on the other hand had come around to loving Tim faster than Bruce had. Tim was his bird, just like Jason was. Tim had earned his respect. And now three became four.

Then the Redhood appears, a duffle bag full of heads arriving with him. He takes Gotham by storm, crime lords being killed left and right. He's elusive, obious Leauge training instilled in him and something else. Something familiar. Then Batman gets a warning from Hood,

"Keep an eye on your new Robin. It'd be a shame if he ended up like the last one."

And just like that Tim, Robin, is benched, much to Tims's outrage. Hes sent to Titans Tower, far away from from Gotham, far away from Hood. Its too bad that doesn't stop the Hood from finding the little bird anyway. Green is swimming in his vision when he first enters Drake Manor, he knows his replacement isn't here, but he's hoping somebody else will be. In the end, Hood doesn't find the Replacement's parents, when hacking into their flight logs he finds out they've been in Honduras for the past four months. Puzzle pieces click in Hood's head as he gears up towards Titans Tower. There has been a change of plans, well, not completely. Bruce would learn his lesson, but his plans for Tim have drastically changed. He'd scare the bird, nothing more,

"No more dead Robins." He repeates, a new meaning to those words.

(P.S! I know canonically the Drakes were not abusive, maybe a smidge neglectful, but they loved Tim. And Tim loved them. they were good parents. This is all following fanon.)

He doesn't expect Tim to fight back, sure it's a pathetic try considering the amount of sedative gas he'd pumped into the building. He simply cooed as he stroked Timmy's hair, watching as the bird slumped into him. The last word leaving his mouth was a slurred "Ja'sn." And Hood, Jason is pleasantly surprised. What a smart bird. Some events happen in between, but eventually, Jason finds himself back at the manor, back with his family. Bruce and Dick don't let him or Tim out of their sights their first week back.

This is when Jason meets Stephanie for the first time. She isn't adopted, no, but he could see that she's family nonetheless. As much as Bruce reprimands her, he also urgently ushers her over to Alfred for a check-up, thanks to another one of her reckless stunts. She and Tim get along great, whilst she and Dick are a rambunctious bunch, making it their life's goal to give B grey hairs. She's a feral thing, fighting to prove to herself that she isn't her father. Again, she was a Robin too, if only for a few days, still, she was there. Jason ends up cuddled on a couch with her and Tim on either side of him, watching some shitty ass crime movie. He grumbles, but there's no heat behind his complains.

Then comes Cassandra Cain. Within hours of meeting her, it was a unanimous decision to take her in. With her background, her story, and her lack of speech, it would be difficult to send her off elsewhere. And now Bruce has a Daughter, and his boys have a sister. Its not common knowledge, but Bruce has always wanted a daughter, and Cass was a saint. She was sweet yet lethal, she cared about her brothers, often going out with Dick, and learning how to read with Jason, whilst she and Tim bonded over casework. And just like him and her brothers, she wouldn't dare let a hair on any of their heads be hurt. Once she gets more comfortable talking, she doesn't ever stop reminding Jason that she's the older out of the two of them. She and Dick bond over Ballet and Dancing, his gymnastics, and time spent in the circus making it possible for him to keep up/aid Cass with her newfound hobby. Steph and Cass are even more well off together, usually patrolling together, or Steph ends up dragging Cass along to plot her next scheme. Bruce watches in adoration.

Then you arrive. He's completely blind sided when Alfred says he has a call from CPS, saying he has a biological child. You're a small thing when you arrive at the manor, only eleven years old. But right now, he just can't get over the fact that he has a child, one that was of his actual blood, and you've just been dumped on his doorstep. He doesn't know what to do, so he just gives you an awkward pat before retreating into the cave. He cant deal with this right now, he has one too many high-profile cases going on at the same time, and now, everyone couldn't just walk and talk freely around the manor. He sighs into his hands, your timing really was poor, but he knows it isn't your fault. You're just a kid, a kid who lost her mom. But yet, Bruce can't bring himself to talk to you. Alfred keeps reminding him with a disappointed tone, and Bruce promises that he'll get around to talking to you, but he just never does. It doesn't help that he starts seeing you less and less. Unbeknownst to him, you've taken the hint that nobody really wanted you here, so you just stopped caring. And Bruce doesn't care enough to amend your thoughts.

Lastly comes Damian. His blood-son. The son of him and the woman he once loved, Thalia al Ghul. Sure, there was some love lost over the years but he still had feelings for her. How could he not? All those days spent training in Nanda Parbat, how could he not still love her if even just a little bit? And Damian? He's the living, breathing amalgamation of their love. It doesn't help that the boy is adorably feisty, and dangerous, but it's clear that he's still a kid seeking approval from his father and mother. He knew Tim was going to be ecstatic, finally, he wouldn't be the youngest (though he forgets that technically you were the youngest). It's an immediate catfight when Tim and Damian meet, though Tim doesn't take it to heart, he knows how League influence works. He does, however, put Damian in his place subduing him before everyone else comes down to see what happened. Immediately Jason grabs ahold of Damian, remembering him from his time in the league. He holds Damian in a possessive grip as he looks him in the eyes, green swirling in them.

"baby bat, its good to finally have you back."

"Tch, its good to see you too Akhi."

"Still Dami, you're new here, but we also have rules. No harming family. You touch Timmy or anyone else again, ill keep you locked up in my room." Jason says gently.

Damian only nods his head, familiar with his akhi's protective behavior. Tim was his brother then, and everyone else was family.

"I understand Akhi, no harm will come to Drake. I apologize, I did not know he was family."

Tim only flashes Damian a feral smile.

"No harm done Damian, you're not the fist person in the family thats tried to kill me."

Jason grumbles. Whilst Dick laughs. What a fucked up dynamic, am i right?

Of course, nobody really tells Damian you're a part of the family too. All Damian knows is that you're the only biological daughter of Batman, you are not considered family, and he must kill you to inherit his rightful place. What he didn't know, was that you were just a civilian, someone not even worth the effort. Still, the damage is already done. Damian expects some kind of punishment, however, he only gets a light reprimand and is let off the hook.

"He's still learning." They all say.

He ends up cuddled on the family couch in between his father and Drake, whilst Grayson, Todd, and Cass fight over what movie to pick. He doesn't see you anywhere.

'Good.' He thinks to himself.

You were of inferior breeding, weak and fragile. You had no place amongst them or anywhere else. Still, you were his half-sister, meaning he had some obligation to you. Sure, he hated being related to someone so weak, but hey, according to league customs, you were marked by his sword, meaning it was now his job to be your keeper. So, he'd make sure you'd stay at the manor and stayed out of trouble and out of the way.

Anyways, y'all are going to see more of their dynamics with each other and y/n in later chapters. Just wanted to drop this drabble. Thanks for this ask! I really enjoyed writing this.

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littlespoonevan · 10 months ago

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sorry i'm just thinking about the whole circumstances of the shooting again and how absolutely batshit insane that was???????? like. first they had carla observe eddie and ana and insinuate ana wasn't what eddie wanted as she told him, 'just make sure you're following your heart, not christopher's.' and had eddie's face go on a Journey. then 20 minutes later, eddie gets shot in broad daylight and it was filmed Like That with everything slowing down and going completely silent as he and buck stared at each other and buck is covered in eddie's blood and eddie is falling and buck is shoved to the ground by mehta and eddie is dying but one of the last things he does before he falls unconscious is look at buck one more time and reach out for him and then buck rOLLS UNDER A FIRETRUCK in the middle of active fire to get to him and pull him to safety and when they're in the ambulance he's telling eddie over and over again that it's okay, that he's got him, that they're so close to the hospital, he just needs to hang on, and for the .5 seconds eddie is awake he sees the blood on buck's face and ASKS IF HE'S HURT?!!?!?!?!? because he's more concerned about buck than himself????????? and then buck has to go tell chris what happened and he breaks down sobbing when he finds out eddie made it out of surgery because he cannot fathom the idea that he nearly lost him and he takes care of chris while eddie's in hospital without having to be asked and in the brief interlude where taylor kisses him and runs away buck runs to eddie instead of running after taylor and then he Tells eddie that he lost it when he told chris what happened and that it would be better if he was the one who got shot and eddie sits him down and says he changed his will A YEAR AGO after the well so that buck would be chris' legal guardian if he died because no one would ever fight for chris the way buck would (not even his biological family) and then he calls buck evan and tells him he's not expendable and ALL OF THIS HAPPENS and they never talk about it again!!!! until 6x12 where eddie says he remembers getting shot and thinking he was about to die and then nothing else until he woke up in the hospital as if the memory of the whole ordeal isn't probably seared into buck's brain and i'm just??????????? what the fuck was that guys

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prbywoo · 5 months ago

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WHAT THE HEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL OH MY GOD BRO WTF WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME HOON WHAT THE F DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS TORTURE BRO IS MAJESTIC HSKSNSJS HIS EYES THOOOO GOD DAMNNN

IM NOT OKAY IM NOT OKAY

#🤯🤯🤯#Prbywoo:rambles #I'm dying yall #Please help #call an ambulance

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causenessus · 2 months ago

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leaving soon. | dazai o.

dazai x f!reader

written in 3rd person bc i can

song recc: the fear of losing this by florist

word count: 2.8k words

notes: use of pet names angel, love, and bella; WARNING for mentions about suicidal ideation,, not heavy angst, it's just dazai. and also the reader thinking she'd be fine dying if she's with dazai. not in a manipulative way, just a way of loving him in every universe and state <3 lots of hurt/comfort, overthinking, and insecurity. basically both dazai and the reader are horrible at communication so they have to figure it out together. established relationship implied. takes place during cannibalism arc after dazai is shot. civilian or ada reader not specified on purpose. thank you for reading!

she was the first person they called when they found out.

well– the first after an ambulance had been called. after that, she was the next most important person to call.

not important enough to have any part in saving his life, though. not just as a doctor; she wasn’t good enough to prevent him from thinking of killing himself every day. she wasn’t important enough to keep him from throwing himself into the way of danger, not worth enough that he thought about what would affect her before he wound up in these situations–

it was wrong of her to be angry at him for something like this. she knew what she’d been getting into when she first met him. when she first started falling for him, and when she confessed. she knew all along what he was like, and she still loved him anyway.

yes, he had a past. yes, he joked about committing suicide every day. yes, he was reckless. yes, he was a mastermind. yes, he was selfless and willing to always put everything above himself. yes, he was bad at communication. yes, he was worthy of love. yes, he could give love.

relationships were a work in progress. they would always be until the day she ended up buried next to him, hopefully. deep down, a part of her had already forgiven him for the episode of panic and stress she'd had as soon as she'd recieved the broken call from atsushi. but the other half knew it also wasn’t wrong of her to feel upset when she'd heard that her boyfriend had been shot in an alleyway.

she knew him well enough to know he knew he was putting himself in risk of danger in that alleyway, whatever he'd been doing there. she reckoned he probably knew he was going to be shot, too. and if he knew all that, she just wanted to know why he didn’t give her a heads-up. she wasn't asking for all the details. even just a text, moments before, saying "hey. i'm about to end up in the hospital. someone might will call you. don't be too worried." she didn't expect them dating to miraculously change him into a man who didn't crave death at every moment, but had it been so wrong of her to hope that maybe being in a relationship would cause him to think twice before getting himself in situations like these, no matter how much he assured her he knew what he was doing?

one day, as much as she hoped it wouldn’t be the case, she feared there’d be something he failed to account for. one day, he'd go missing, and no one would be able to find him, and it'd stay that way. she feared one day they wouldn't be so lucky as to find him bleeding out in an alleyway when there was still a chance to save him.

but there she went again, being angry at dazai, then being angry at herself for being angry at him, and then shoving down her feelings before she even had the time to process them. because she didn’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who always plagued and worried about her boyfriend, but she couldn’t help it when her boyfriend quite literally wanted and was trying to kill himself.

everyone she had talked to had agreed that it wasn’t wrong of her to feel worried about her partner and that they would support her if she decided to distance herself from him for her own sake, but she could never bring herself to do that. if anything, to be completely honest, she’d rather she die with him than leave him to die on his own.

maybe she was weird or morbid for thinking that way. maybe she needed to seek help. but all she knew was that she truly loved him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. maybe their entire relationship was just temporary for him and he didn’t want to die with her at his side. maybe death was something sacred for him that he wanted to experience alone, or she just wasn't the perfect one for him and he was still looking for that "special one." she wasn’t entirely sure what his thoughts were on the concept, or what he really, truly thought of her. she didn't know if she was really of any value to him.

maybe she could figure it out for herself. maybe she was a horrible, terrible, awful girlfriend for not knowing what her boyfriend thought of committing suicide with her, but she had no idea. she wasn't sure what was okay for her to bring up, and what wasn't. how was one supposed to go about asking their partner's opinion on a double suicide? she had been frozen by this fear as she stood outside her hospital door, but it was something that had been on her mind long before now. the fear of bringing up something that might ruin their relationship started even before they were dating; with even the thought of confessing her feelings. even though she'd gotten past that, it never became easier bringing up touchy subjects with him, out of fear of triggering something without the intention to.

she had been stuck outside his door for more than ten minutes since she'd been left by a nurse to open his door and check on him. she was unsure of what to think of herself, and what to do. her hand was fisted and raised, ready to knock but then she decided ‘i’m the first person on his emergency contacts list. i don’t need to knock; he’s mine. he probably wants to see me. i’m his.’

she swung the door open.

what was she doing with her face? what was she supposed to be saying? why had she decided to come in so abruptly? she should have knocked after all. she was reminded of the fact that she was not enough to stop osamu from wounding up in a hospital in the first place. she didn't have any right to barge in like this.

then, all of her worries melted away when he turned away from the window to see who’d entered his room and his face softened.

“[y/n],” he whispered, and she saw his bandaged hands loosen their grip on the sheets he'd been holding. his shoulders dropped, and his whole demeanor seemed to relax.

“osamu,” she called his name back, letting her body do what felt normal. she was glad it had a sense of what to do, because she felt like she was at a loss for words. if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure if a tone of concern or of anger would come out.

she took a seat in the chair pulled up to the side of his bed, loosely intertwining her fingers with his nearby hand. the bandages that adorned his skin didn’t bother her. in fact, she was often overcome with an urge to kiss over every inch of his body and tell him how beautiful he was. the hospital gown he wore was what bothered her; she thought everything about him was beautiful and she couldn’t stand the thought that there’d be a scar on his body because of her. because she hadn’t done a good enough job of telling him how loved and important he was. that he didn’t think of himself nor her as important enough to keep himself out of danger.

her lips were pressed into a grim line as she ran a thumb over his knuckles. she wished he would eat more.

“everything go well with the surgery?” she asked, talking softly as if the silent atmosphere in the room was fragile.

he hummed in response, “yeah, they took good care of me. i should be good to leave by tomorrow afternoon.”

her head perked up at the answer, “that soon already? are you sure?”

“yep! as long as i take it easy, they’ll let me go tomorrow which is good. thing are tense between the mafia and agency right now. ranpo and kunikida are fine, but we'll have to work together with them against the one who caused all this, and i’m the only one who can faciliate that.”

she liked it when he explained everything to her, it made her feel helpful, as if at least he could share his thoughts with someone else rather than keeping them all wound up in his head. she nodded along, trying to push down the concerns she had for him. the mafia wasn’t always nice to work with; even if dazai was right and their cooperation was the best course of action, that didn’t mean they would agree to it–at least not without a fight.

“you are going to take it easy when you’re discharged. right?” she gave him a look, in which he gave her a wry smile in return.

“of course i will, bella! who do you think i am? and i’ll have you, my guardian angel to make sure of it, won’t i?” he laughed, squeezing her hand as he talked boldly.

it had been easy for her to forget that he would want her by his side but the reminder made her smile, “you’re right. i'll be there to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again.” she almost added something else to her sentence but the "again" spoke well for itself, she thought. she didn’t want to ruin the mood so she kept it vague and her mouth shut. dazai looked at her expectedly, as if he was waiting for her to say something else but she only smiled at him, “i think i’m going to go take a walk real quick, just to clear my head. is that okay? i’ll be back soon.” she made an excuse as she stood up, turning to walk towards the door of his room before a hand gripped her wrist, pulling her backward.

she yelped as she fell onto the bed, flush with his chest. she could feel and hear the groan he let out when she hit his torso and on reflex tried to push off of him to lighten the pressure on his wound but his grip remained strong around her wrist, pulling her closer.

the prick of pain that shot through his stomach was a small price to pay for having his girlfriend on his chest, where he had wanted her from the moment she’d walked through the door. he wrapped his arms around her back, keeping her secure and from escaping his arms.

she allowed herself to be held in his arms, knowing it was useless to try to fight it now. she sighed, trying to enjoy the moment as her ear rested against his chest, allowing her to hear his heartbeat while she looked out the hospital window to the orange colored sky.

“why take a walk away from me?” he mumbled playfully, nose buried in her hair. when she didn't respond, he placed a gentle hand on both sides of her face, tenderly guiding her head up to look her in his eyes; warm, chocolate-brown pools of adoration.

this is pathetic.

how did she come in here upset and worried about him and end up being the one comforted?

“you’re thinking too much in that pretty head of yours, angel. you’re thinking way too much about things way out of your control. that isn’t good. i can’t let you worry yourself to death like this, love. you gotta let me know what’s up. pretty please?” his voice was soft and pleading, but she winced at the mention of the word death, averting her eyes from him, instead opting to lay her head back on his chest, focusing on the steady rhythm inside of it. it was the surest sound in the world, the only thing she felt that could silence her head at the moment.

“sorry, angel,” he brushed a hand through her hair again, “didn’t mean to upset you, but i can tell, you know. and it makes me worried. i want to know what’s upsetting you so much.”

“says you,” she replied, huffing in frustration. he waited for her to continue, and she did, “you think you’re worried? i’m worried. about you! you’re the problem.” his fingers stopped moving at the mention of him.

“‘don’t worry about me,’ i can already tell what you're about to say. ‘yes i know i was shot but don’t worry it was all part of an elaborate plan i didn’t tell you about after promising to try to communicate better,’” she mimicked him, trying to explain to him her point. she feels the hum in his chest as he processes her words and starts to grasp it. “it’s just– i’m sorry if that’s mean. and i’m sorry for worrying because you don’t need that added to your plate, but i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you this at the start because i don’t want to overstep your boundaries or give you one more thing to fix. i don’t care much about you breaking your promise to communicate better because it’s a lot to ask and it can’t always be done. i know you’ve had a difficult past and i don’t mind, osamu. i’m not mad, all i want is for you to be safe. and i know that’s a lot to ask from a suicidal man and that’s why i don’t know where i have a say in all of this– but i love you and it hurts for me to see you put yourself in danger so carelessly without telling anyone, as if i’m not enough to make you think twice before injuring yourself. sometimes– sometimes it feels like i’m just something for you to toy with before you die. something for you to entertain yourself with before you inevitably end up leaving. and i don’t want you to leave. i don’t want you to die, or at the very least without me– but i also know that’s nearly impossible to ask of you.”

he had started to rub her scalp as some sort of apology while she’d explained her feelings to him, and she still couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. she felt pathetic and weak with the tears in her eyes, and even worse when they began to slip from her eyes, no doubt seeping through his shirt and bandages. “you have every right and place to say whatever you would like, bella.” he spoke up after a beat of silence as he thought. still, it didn’t make her feel any better. he could just be saying what he knew she wanted to hear, but what she wanted was the truth. how much time did she have left with him? how much was she worth? was he leaving soon?

“you're the closest person to me and you deserve to say whatever you would like and to know what’s going on. i love you, too,” she could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said those words which made her face turn red as she turned away from the window to hide it in his hospital gown. her own confession had slipped out of her without a second thought, but she hadn’t meant for this to be a serious moment of testing how much he loved her. “i wouldn’t have agreed to try to change if i didn’t want to, but that’s why i made you that promise. i do want to change and be better for you, whatever that entails. i’d rather talk to you about my plans even if you don’t like them so that you know what’s going on rather than leaving you in the dark. because i never want you to feel like you’re just a toy or anything of the sort. you’re so much more than that, bella, and i should show as much. i’ve been and am forever grateful for your love and patience, [y/n]. i don’t deserve either. ask whatever you want of me and i will do it. will you give me another chance, my angel?”

“of course,” she mumbled in response, nuzzling and kissing the center of his chest, finally feeling the truth and love behind his words spread through her body like a warm fire. “i love you,” she whispered, not expecting him to hear it.

“i love you too,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her scalp.

a noise from the window made them both jump as they turned to see a spotted orange cat with a sardine in its mouth waiting outside. it was posed too well to be a normal cat, and the pair shared a glance as she moved to start to get off of him.

“do you want to come along with me this time, bella?”

“always.”

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makeitmingi · 4 months ago

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When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 4]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Character is injured, mentions of bruises, cuts, broken ribs and possibly other injuries.

"Hongjoong sshi?!" You gasped at the slumped figure that was leaning against the wall. Shining the torch on him, he squinted, he was covered in bruises and definitely bleeding somewhere.

"Hide me..." He breathed out, clutching onto his side as his face scrunched up in pain. You put your phone aside and went over to help him. You bent down, slipping his arm over your shoulder, helping him stand up. He winced as he stood up.

"Sorry!" You panicked, helping him into your store and closing the backdoor. As carefully as you could, you set him on the ground.

"Should I call an ambulance? Or the police?" You took your phone out but Hongjoong placed his hand over your phone, covering the screen before you could dial.

"No hospital, no police." He groaned.

"What? Are you crazy?! You're injured." You screeched. Hongjoong grasped your hand.

"Calm down... Take a breath... I'm not dying..." He assured. He was the one injured and yet, he had to calm you down as if you were the one that was bleeding.

"Okay. Tell me what I should do." You said shakily.

"Do you know how to treat wounds?" He asked. You nodded your head and decided to move him to the 'office' room.

"Wait here. Let me go get the first aid kit." You helped him lay on the couch you had left there before going to get stuff that you could use. You were not a medical professional but you did know basic wound care. Plus, injuries can always happen in the shop so you try to be as prepared as possible.

"Earlier you asked me to 'hide you'. Are you in danger by being here? Should I move you?" You came back, setting everything down.

"They should be long gone by now... Don't worry, you're not in danger." Hongjoong grunted. You felt your cheeks heat up, he knew what you were thinking about.

"We can talk later, let me fix you up." You began to clean the open cuts and put ointment on the bruises.

"Oww." He hissed when you dabbed the disinfectant over the cut on his eyebrow.

"Sorry." You squeaked and tried to be gentler, if that was even possible. After that, you placed a band aid over it. Once all the visible injuries were looked after, you stared at his shirt.

"C-Could you..." You wanted to hide, you couldn't even ask him to remove his shirt. Hongjoong smirked at your expression and removed his shirt.

"It's just a slash, I wasn't stabbed." He said when you were staring at the bleeding cut right at his ribs. That was the first thing you treated first. Hongjoong felt you look back at him for his expression with each dab of the cotton ball against the cut.

"Your salve works really well, by the way." He cleared his throat, lifting his injured hand up. You stopped, tilting your head in confusion before turning to look at his hand.

"Oh! I forgot about that. I'm glad it could help." You smiled when you remembered treating his hand for him.

"Do you get injured often?" You asked softly, seeing some old scars across his body.

"It's part of the job." He replied honestly. You nodded with a soft hum and quietly continued. You taped a gauze over the place where he was slashed.

"I don't know if you broke your ribs. But until you check them out, I'll tape them in place." Taking some sports tape, you skillfully tape Hongjoong's ribs. Hopefully, he goes to an actual doctor soon.

"I doubt they're badly broken." Hongjoong said with experience.

"All done. I don't think I missed anything." You stepped back with a soft sigh. While Hongjoong put his shirt back on, you were returning your things to their respective places. You grabbed some paracetamol tablets and a towel, wetting it in the bathroom sink, before going back to Hongjoong.

"Here, it's just paracetamol. I don't have anything stronger." You placed the pills in his hand and opened a new bottle of water for him.

"It's enough, thanks." Hongjoong sat up slightly and downed the pills. After he laid back down, you surprised him by reaching out to wipe his face with a wet cloth.

"Sorry! You can wipe it yourself if you'd like. I just thought you might be more comfortable." You stuttered.

"No, you can do it. I was just surprised." He closed his eyes, feeling you continue to wipe the sweat and grime off his face.

"Are you hungry? I can order dinner." You asked.

"(y/n) sshi, you don't have to stay here with me. I'm grateful for what you have done but you can go home. You've probably been busy working the whole day." He told you.

"It's okay, I usually stay late anyway. I've even stayed over a few times before. No big deal." You shrugged.

"Alright but if you want to go home, tell me and I'll leave. I understand that I can't stay because you have to lock up." Hongjoong said. You nodded obediently and took your phone, the both of you scrolling to see what food options there were.

Of course you wouldn't tell Hongjoong to leave. Yes, you barely knew him but he was gravely injured, you weren't ruthless enough to send him away while he was down.

"You should rest until the food comes." You said, taking the small throw blanket and draping it over him.

"What about you?" He blinked.

"I'll go get some work done, clean up a little." You smiled a little and stood up to leave the room, giving him some privacy. You took the time to tend to your plants and check on them.

"Hello? Delivery!" Someone called from the back. You put the broom down and went to open the door for the deliveryman.

"Have a nice evening." The deliveryman bowed. You bowed back to convey your thanks.

"Hongjoo- Woah." You stepped back in shock. When you opened the door, you were not expecting to see him standing there, pressed against the wall. His hand was resting on the waistband of his pants. Was he hiding a weapon? You hadn't even noticed it when you helped him into your shop.

"Just wanted to make sure it wasn't someone else." He said. You nodded stiffly and he stepped aside for you to put the food down on the desk so you could help him back to the couch.

"Let me get the foldable table." You went to the cupboard to get out the small plastic table.

"You really have everything you need here. It's like a house." He chuckled with slight amusement.

"Like I said, I've stayed over before." You giggled and went to get the food. When you came back, Hongjoong had shed his blazer and resting beside him was a knife in a sleeve.

"Sorry." Hongjoong must have sensed your discomfort because he put the knife into the inner pocket of his blazer to hide it.

"Thanks... Here." You handed him chopsticks. You sat on the carpet and Hongjoong slowly moved to sit beside you on the ground as well to eat. After looking through all the restaurants, you both decided to order rose tteokbokki and some fried food.

"Can you reach it?" You pushed the food closer to him so he wouldn't have to reach out too much to get it.

"I'm good." Hongjoong nodded and held his side as he reached to pick up a piece of rice cake. The two of you ate in silence, your mind was racing with too many thoughts now.

"Hongjoong sshi, if you don't mind me asking... Why did you not call your friends? And until now, you still haven't call them." You asked.

"Not worth it for them to go through the trouble. Plus, they'll just nag at me." He replied with a shrug.

"But wouldn't they be worried about you?"

"Maybe... You know what, they probably will worry a lot but it's fine. It's not like I'm running away, they'll see me tomorrow when I return home." He explained. You nodded your head slowly.

"What about your family? They're fine with you staying here overnight?" He asked back.

"Oh... I don't have anyone... I'm on my own so no one to answer to when I don't go home." You replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. Hongjoong mentally cursed, if he had properly read the file that he found about you, he would have known that you didn't have a family.

"B-But it's okay! I'm fine and happy on my own. It's been like that for my whole life so I'm used to it." You quickly added, worried that he would feel guilty for asking.

"I know how you feel, I was on my own for so long as well before I met my brothers." He smiled softly.

"Oh, you're brothers?" Your eyes widened.

"Chosen family, as people call it. A bunch of people that couldn't fit into society came together to form our own family. Sounds a lot like a comic book or movie, right?" He laughed.

"Yes but it's sweet that you all found people that you could rely on." You giggled with a smile.

"I'm grateful for them." He agreed with a nod.

"You know, Mrs Kim used to talk about you all the time and it always made me wonder what it would be like to meet you." You said without a though. But judging from the way Hongjoong stiffened and how the comfortable smile on his face disappeared, you knew...

"Hongjoong sshi! I'm sorry, I just... I always speak without thinking. I'm sorry." You panicked. Hongjoong clenched his jaw before taking a deep breath.

"It's fine. I'm full." He stated, putting his chopsticks down. Now you didn't have an appetite too, why did you screw things up?

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I already said it's fine, (y/n)." Hongjoong hissed, dropping the formality. You pursed your lips, chewing the inside of your cheek like a child that just got reprimanded.

"I'll just clear up and you can rest here." You gathered all the trash before Hongjoong could say anything.

"If you need anything, I'll be outside." You quickly said and scurried out of there.

"Great job, you chased her out of her own place." Hongjoong grumbled, scolding himself as he slumped against the couch. He slowly grabbed the foldable table and put it back for you. After sitting there for a bit, Hongjoong grabbed his phone and sent a text out to one of the Ateez members.

"(y/n), you idiot." You slapped your forehead. You threw the trash outside and washed your hands in the small bathroom.

While there was no soap for you to shower or fresh clothes for you to change into, you grabbed a small towel and wiped yourself down to feel a little fresher.

"Ah, I'm so tired." You sighed, falling back into the chair behind the counter. There wasn't much for you to do here but you were listless so you went to your botany table and grabbed your botany book.

"(y/n) sshi?" Hongjoong opened the door and poked his head out when he saw you fast asleep.

"Mmmh..." You stirred, burying your face further into your folded arms to get comfortable. You laid on your open book.

"Hyung, I'm he-"

"Shhhh." Hongjoong hushed the taller, who blinked back in surprised.

"Geez, hyung. You look terrible. You sure you don't me to call our doctor?" Yunho winced, seeing that disheveled state the captian was in. Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"That's what happens when you get jumped. Anyway I'm sure I don't need a doctor, Yunho. I should wake her up and send her home. This is no place to sleep." Hongjoong turned to look back at where you were. Yunho craned his neck to see you sleeping at the counter.

"Up to you. By the way, I need your keys, I brought one of our men to drive your car home. You're in no shape to drive." Yunho said.

"Fine. Wait here." Hongjoong put his car keys in Yunho's hand and walked back to the shop. For a few seconds, he stood there, how was he supposed to wake you?

"(y/n) sshi...?" He shook your gently, not wanting to scare you too much. It took a while for your eyes to open and you flinched.

"Oh my!" You jumped, realising that you had fallen asleep.

"Sorry to scare you, my transport is here. But let me drop you home first. It's the least I could do after all that you've done for me tonight." Hongjoong informed.

"I didn't even know I fell asleep... You don't have to, Hongjoong sshi. You're injured, you should get home and rest." You yawned.

"I want to. And it'll make me feel better knowing you got home safely." He smiled.

"Alright, if you're sure..." You stood up. Hongjoong stepped aside to give you space while you cleared up and grabbed your things. He waited at the back door, talking to Yunho. You tried to be fast, you didn't want to make him and whoever was with him wait too long for you since it was so late.

"Oh, hello." You stopped and bowed deeply to Yunho. You remember seeing him at the funeral, he was close with Hongjoong, one of his 'brothers'. He was very tall and good looking.

"(y/n) sshi, right? Nice to meet you, I'm Yunho." He smiled. Even you were blown away by how handsome he was when he smiled.

"Thank you for taking care of our leader here." Yunho snickered while Hongjoong glared daggers into Yunho's head.

"It's no worry at all." You replied softly. The two waited for you to properly lock up before Yunho led the two of you to the car. He did try to support Hongjoong.

"Stop that." Hongjoong slapped Yunho's arms away, preferring to walk on his own.

"Let me help, hyung~" Yunho said. Hongjoong flipped him off and continued limping. You smiled, watching them from the back.

"Hyung, that's very uncouth behaviour, especially in front of a lady." Yunho teased, opening the door to the G-Wagon for you while Hongjoong went to the other side to get into the car himself. He held his hand out to you to help you up.

"Thank you." You cleared your throat shyly as you got into the back seat. Hongjoong groaned in pain as he hoisted his body up and into the back seat, leaning against the back.

"You just had to take the G Wagon." He hissed.

"Well, if you had told me that you were this injured, I wouldn't have taken it then." Yunho said as he closed the driver's door.

"(y/n) sshi, may I have your address please?" He turned back to you. You nodded and sat forward, reciting your address to him to put into his GPS system.

"Thanks. We're good to go." Yunho said and you sat back in your seat, fastening your seatbelt.

As Yunho drove, you looked out the window, still feeling a lingering sleepiness from earlier. It was rather late at night.

"You can sleep if you'd like." Hongjoong said, not looking up from his phone. He had been fixed on the device, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face in the dark vehicle.

"I-I'm good. Thanks." You cleared your throat, focusing on the city lights outside. It didn't take long for Yunho to pull up to your apartment building. You were grateful you didn't fall back asleep. Yunho would have reached faster but he knew Hongjoong would kill him if he sped while you were in the car.

"Yunho, walk her up." Hongjoong said, not looking up from his phone as he was texting someone.

"Yes, sir." Yunho was out of the car before you could protest. He opened the door for you, holding his hand out again to help you out of the vehicle.

"I'm fine walking up on my own." You forced a smile.

"It's okay." Yunho smiled.

"Bye, Hongjoong sshi. Goodnight." You turned back to bow to the injured male. Yunho accidentally closed the door behind you before Hongjoong could properly reply you.

"Let's go." Yunho nodded over to the door. You walked with him trailing beside you.

"So, have you had your flower shop for long?" Yunho asked as you both stepped into the lift.

"Not that long... I've always been interested in plants and botany. But I don't think being a botanist would have brought me a stable income right away so I opened up my flower shop. I just study botany on the side." You shrugged.

"Ah, that's very practical of you. But botany does sound interesting. Do you make special potions to poison people?" He asked. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, I make natural poison darts in my free time." You joked, making Yunho laugh along.

"This is me." You stopped before the door, fishing your keys out to unlock it.

"Thanks again for sending me back and walking me up, Yunho sshi. It's so late, you must be tired." You smiled and bowed. Yunho shook his head.

"It's fine. No need to thank me. I should thank you again for helping Hongjoong hyung." He repeated.

"It was no big deal, really. Oh! Also, could you help me return this to him? I said something out of turn and made him angry. I think he's probably still upset with me." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Whatever it is, I don't think he's angry with you. But I will return this to him." Yunho tucked the silk handkerchief into his pocket.

"If you say so. Goodnight, Yunho sshi. Get home safe. And if Hongjoong sshi's injuries get worse, please bring him to a doctor." You said with a worried frown on your face. Yunho nodded and saluted obediently. He watched you enter your house before leaving and going back downstairs.

"Yah! You closed the door before I could say bye to her. Now she's going to think I'm stuck up or something." Hongjoong scolded him the moment he entered.

"Nope, not stuck up. She thinks you're mad at her." Yunho laughed, closing the door and starting the engine.

"Mad at her?" Hongjoong blinked.

"Yeah apparently she said something to you that made you mad. She couldn't even return this to you, thinking you're still angry." He turned around and handed Hongjoong his handkerchief.

"Oh... I wasn't angry..." Hongjoong said, looking down at the silk handkerchief, his thumb running across the silky material.

"That's what I said. The last time you were actually angry with someone, they ended up with a bullet between their eyes." Yunho snickered.

"YOU TOLD HER THAT?" Hongjoong screeched.

"Of course not. I couldn't have her fainting from shock. Although I'm sure seeing you beaten up like that is enough to traumatise her for a bit." Yunho raised his eyebrows. Hongjoong let out a long sigh as Yunho the drive back to their home.

"You didn't tell Seonghwa about what happened yet, right?" Hongjoong asked.

"Nope. Seonghwa hyung came back from his race and went straight to bed. Didn't even know I left, I think. But hyung, you can't hide your injuries from Seonghwa hyung and the rest." Yunho stated.

"I know. The main thing is to discuss those that were involved in my attack. No one dares to jump me." Hongjoong growled.

"Exactly. Whoever it is... They either don't know Ateez or they're trying to start a war. Although I seriously think they're trying to start a war." Yunho sighed.

"Well, if it's a war they want, it's a war they'll get." The captain declared.

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beneathsilverstars · 2 months ago

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it's getting worse instead of better even though i've been eating normal dinners and drinking multiple tall cups of water in the evening?? this is super bizarre i almost never have headaches, when i do it's usually for like half an hour because i'm dehydrated or slept too long, and it goes away as soon as i drink some water or get out of bed. do you think i'm dying

i've had a headache on and off for the last three days and it's probably because i'm dehydrated. however,

#i'll eat a normal lunch today too do you think if i eat a normal lunch and have a cup of water then too that'll fix it 😭#i hope i'm not dying. i'm really good at taking my wife to the hospital but who would take ME to the hospital #my wives think the hospital is scary they get scared #which is fair enough tbh our local hospital is absolutely horrid #sent my wife home after giving birth with a disabling hip injury and not enough blood #sent my other wife to non-medical rehab with a blood alcohol level that had rehab about to call an ambulance #(the only reason they didn't was bc i swore to drive them to the ER myself. a Different ER.)#FUCK this hospital #alcohol mention #in da tags #wow that got off topic

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doctorbitchcrxft · 4 months ago

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Fresh Blood | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings:

Word Count: 6382

A/N: This may be one of my favorite episodes I’ve ever written. I hope you guys love it as much as I loved writing it!!!

Also this gif i'm nutting. goodbye.

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“I’m just trying to figure out what you’re looking for here, Sam,” you explained as he paced around the room. You sat calmly on yours and Dean’s shared motel bed.

“I thought I was pretty clear about it, (Y/N), I just want Dean to actually give a fuck about himself,” Sam continued.

You sighed and shook your head. “You and me both. But that was not the impression you were giving either of us. I think his apology was completely warranted, and your reaction was completely dickish.”

The brunet scoffed. “Of course, you’re on his side. Even though he’s leaving you here, to0.”

“See! That! Right there! That makes us think you want an apology from him. So are you angry at him for dying or angry at him for trying to enjoy what little he’s got left?” you replied pointedly.

Your phone rang, breaking the conversation between you and Sam. “Hello?”

“Hello, darling,” Bela cooed through the phone. “Where are you?”

“Why do you wanna know?” you asked, skeptical.

“C’mon, I thought we established a rapport with each other. Don’t you trust me?” she replied flippantly.

“No,” you scoffed. “So, again, why do you wanna know?”

“Was curious if you were nearby. Maybe we could have that girl talk you suggested,” she replied easily.

You still weren’t sure if you trusted her, but against your better judgment, you told her anyway.

“That’s too bad,” she said. “Nowhere near me. Thanks anyway, love. And thank you again for saving me.” She hung up.

You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it questioningly. Bela had been a bit too pleasant, and something in you was screaming red flags at you. Even still, you pushed the feeling aside.

Sam looked at you strangely. “Who was that?”

“Bela,” you replied, still slightly zoned out while the wheels in your head turned. “She asked where we were. Sure that won’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

***

The current town you were blowing through was home to a nest of vampires you were there to wipe out. It seemed like a standard hunt, but when was it ever with the Winchesters?

In front of you, Dean moved his flashlight over to a pool of blood on the ground of the dark alleyway. Worriedly, you and the brothers rushed toward the man whose blood was spilling out profusely.

Fortunately, he was still conscious, and you immediately took the handkerchief out of your jacket pocket to start packing his wound. “Sam, call an ambulance,” you ordered.

“Where is she? Where'd she go?!” Dean questioned frantically.

The man gestured vaguely down the alley, and the older brother set off down it. While you continued to try and stop the bleeding from the man’s bite wound and keep him conscious and calm, you heard Dean yell, “Smell that?! Come and get it!”

“Oh, Dean, you idiot,” you shook your head without stopping your work, knowing he’d done something stupid trying to get the vampire’s attention.

“That's right. Come on. I smell good, don't I? I taste even better.”

You bit your lip at Dean’s taunting words, unfortunately being reminded of how good he did actually taste in the midst of your chaotic situation.

“Come on! Free lunch!” your partner continued yelling.

“Ambulance is on its way,” Sam told you. “Probably five minutes out.”

“Then we’d better be gone before they get here.” You looked down at the man. The bleeding had begun to slow, and he looked less panicked. “I don’t wanna leave you here, dude, but I’m gonna have to. You gonna be okay?”

He took the handkerchief from you and kept it firmly on his wound before offering a confused smile and a thumbs-up.

You smiled down at him and pushed up off the floor.

“Cutting it a little close, don’t you think?” you heard Sam telling Dean further down the alleyway.

“What’d you do, you idiot?” you asked, strutting up to the boys. You then noticed Dean holding his neck, and his arm was bleeding. “Oh, Jesus— Dean!”

“Just chum in the water, sweetheart. Worked, didn't it?” the older brother smirked at you. He looked down at his undoubtedly pulsing arm. “Ow,” he whined.

“C’mon,” you said. “Let’s getcha back to the motel room and take the undead chick with us.”

Sam hoisted the vampire over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. “Let’s go.”

***

The petite, blonde vampire sat in the center of the dingy room tied to a chair. The morning sun was beginning to rise, and Sam had leaned the mattresses against the windows to block anyone from seeing into the room. Meanwhile, you were helping Dean get cleaned up.

He sat on the last unoccupied chair beside the table in the corner. You stood next to him, carefully cleaning the wound on his neck. He hissed through his teeth as you wiped around it. “Baby, if you keep flinching, it’s gonna take even longer,” you said.

“It fuckin’ hurts,” he whined.

“Yeah, well, it was your bright idea to let Lady Nosferatu bite you in the neck,” you replied.

“Lady who?” he questioned.

“Dude— nevermind,” you snickered. When you had the gauze pad secured to his still slightly bleeding neck, you moved to address his arm. You kneeled in front of him, and Dean immediately had a wide smirk on his face.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’, just… looks like you’re about to give me head,” he snickered.

“Dean!” you squeaked, smacking the inside of his muscular, thick thigh lightly. “Sorry, Sam.”

“It’s fine!” Sam immediately responded, and his reaction told you that he simply didn’t want to acknowledge his brother’s crudeness.

You giggled and continued your work before you scolded, “Why’d you cut your arm so deep, you dumbass? I’m gonna have to stitch it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, next time, I’ll bring my scalpel and only cut three-fourths of an inch down,” Dean snarked.

“That’s actually too deep,” you replied. “Dermis has the blood; only, like, three millimeters under the top layer of skin.”

“Well, excuse me, professor— Fuck!” he cursed when you stuck the needle through his arm to begin stitching it up.

“Don’t be a baby,” you joked.

“It hurts,” he replied, whining a little.

“Again, maybe don’t go baitin’ Jaws,” you snarked.

His arm would tense every once in a while, but he stayed relatively quiet while you finished your work.

“All done,” you said when you’d finished wrapping the wound in a bandage.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. Dean leaned down and tilted your chin up with his fingers to kiss you gently.

You smiled against his lips, but the smile faded when you heard the vampire start shifting behind you.

Immediately, Dean was all business. It was both terrifying and a huge turn-on when he “flipped the switch,” so to speak. “You with us?”

Dean questioned, leaning over the vampire who still had blood dripping from her mouth.

The girl woke up fully and struggled against her bonds.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. You're not going anywhere,” the older Winchester taunted.

You sat where Dean had while you patched him up and crossed your legs and arms, staring intimidatingly.

“Where's your nest?” Sam asked the vampire.

“What?” she replied, looking confused.

“Your nest,” you said as if it was obvious. “Where the rest of you freaks hang out.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she began to cry. “Please! I don't feel good.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot worse if we give you another shot of dead man's blood,” Dean hissed.

“Just let me go,” the blonde begged.

Sam laughed. “Yeah, you know we can't do that.”

“I'm telling you the truth. I'm just... I took something. I'm freaking out! I don't know what's going on!” she cried.

That seemed to change Sam’s approach to her. “You took something?”

“Yes! I can't... come down. I just want to come down,” she whined.

“What's your name?” Sam asked.

“Lucy,” she responded, sniffling. “Please, just let me go.”

“Alright, Lucy, how about this?” Sam started. “If you tell us what happened, we'll let you go.”

“You will?” She looked over to you and Dean. Dean nodded insincerely, but you remained unmoving.

“Uh, I don't really... um, it's, it's not that clear. I was at Spider,” Lucy explained. “The club, on Jefferson. And there was this guy... he was buying me drinks.”

“This guy... what's he look like?” Sam pressed.

“He was old, like thirty. He had brown hair, a leather jacket... uh, Deacon or Dixon or something. Said he was a dealer... he had something for me.”

“Something?” prompted Dean.

“Something new. ‘Better than anything you've ever tried.’ He put a few drops in my drink.”

“Was the drug red and thick?” you deadpanned.

She nodded, and Sam hung his head in disbelief.

“Well, genius move there. That was vampire blood he dosed you with,” Dean said, almost cold.

“What?” Lucy squeaked.

“Yeah, you just took a big steamin' shot of the nastiest virus out there,” Dean responded.

“You're crazy! He gave me roofies or something! No... The next thing I know, we're at his place, and he says he's gonna get me something to eat, just wait. But I get so hungry,” she whined.

Dean moved behind your chair as he asked, “So you busted out?”

Lucy nodded. “But it won't wear off... whatever he gave me?”

“Lights are too bright? Sunshine hurt your skin?” you said.

“Yeah... And smells. And I can... hear blood pumping!” she cried.

“Well, I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your blood's never pumping again,” Dean explained.

Lucy shook her head. “Not mine. Yours. I can hear a heart beating from half a block away. I just want it to stop.”

Sam looked sympathetic, and you were having a difficult time hating the girl at that moment. It was reminding you of the case with Gordon where your world was turned upside-down.

“Alright, listen, Wavy Gravy,” Dean jested, “It's not going to stop. You've already killed two people, almost three.”

The blonde sobbed, “No, I couldn't. No! I was hallucinating!”

“You killed them, alright?” Dean growled. “We've been following a sloppy trail of corpses, and it leads straight to you.”

“No. No, it wasn't real! It was the drug! Please! Please, you have to help me!”

Sam jerked his head at you and Dean, making you step out of the room.

“No, no,” she wailed as you walked out.

“Poor girl,” said Sam when you entered the next room.

“We don't have a choice,” Dean reminded him.

Sam sighed, but ultimately nodded at you. On his cue, you took your machete back into the room with Lucy.

“No… please!” she begged as you approached her.

Almost completely devoid of emotion, you swung your machete at her neck and took her head off in one clean cut. Her head thumped to the ground beside you, and your stomach dropped slightly.

Before you could spend too much time contemplating the morality of what you’d just done, you ordered the boys to start helping you dispose of her. You cleaned the blood off from around her mouth and closed her eyes in an attempt to give her a properly respectful funeral. Thankfully, Sam and Dean didn’t question the fact that you wanted to give her a hunter's funeral and helped you set up the pyre in the middle of the woods.

“You okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently while Lucy’s body burned.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Wrong place, wrong time, and that could’ve been me.” You shook your head and took a deep breath, forcing your emotions aside. “Well, we did her a favor. At least she won’t be a blood junkie for the rest of forever.” You turned and headed back to the car, leaving both the boys behind.

***

That night, you and the Winchesters headed to Spider, the bar that Lucy told you about. Thinking about that poor girl was beginning to make you feel sick. What was making you even sicker was watching Dean have to flirt with beautiful girls for information. You knew he was just doing his job, but it was getting under your skin watching them eye him wantonly and trail their manicured nails up his arm. Girls were approaching Sam, too, and he was barely entertaining any of them. The sight of his discomfort made you giggle. You chose to hang back against the wall with a drink in your hand. Although, at this moment, you definitely would’ve preferred a joint.

Dean soon rejoined you against the wall, and you giggled at the uncomfortable shiver he exaggerated when he approached you.

“What, flirting’s not your thing anymore?” you teased, although his answer was going to serve as a bit of a test.

“Nah, not with anyone else,” he replied. “Not since you.”

You smiled lopsidedly. “Find out anything useful?”

“Nope,” he replied. “That was a big, fat waste of time.”

“Awesome.”

Sam came up to you and Dean next, mirroring Dean’s uncomfortable shiver.

“How’d it go, Casanova?” you jeered, and Sam glared at you.

“Not great,” he replied, beginning to lead you out of the bar. “I don’t get it, though. Three blondes have gone missing, including Lucy, all last sighted here. I'm telling you, this is the hunting ground. What I can’t figure out is where the hell he—”

“You mean that guy?” you asked, pointing to a thirty-something-year-old man ducking into an alley with his arm around a pretty blonde.

Sam looked at you concernedly, and the three of you ran after the guy and the blonde.

“You ready, sweetie?” the man asked, voice becoming louder as you approached. “One taste of this; you'll never be the same.”

Dean charged him before he could drug the girl and clocked him squarely across the jaw.

“Get out of here,” you told the girl, who looked startled. “Go, go!”

She listened to you and ran back toward the bar. A sickening thud had you turning back around to see Dean lying on the ground against a brick wall. The vampire had cut and run.

“Dean!” you cried.

“I'm good,” he groaned as you helped him up. “Come on.”

You ran after the vampire, and as you turned the corner, you came face to face with Gordon and the man that had tried to kill Sam you’d called Willem Dafoe.

Gordon raised his gun, and you took the opportunity to sprint behind cars parked nearby to dodge the flying bullets. You pulled the brothers behind a brick wall one of the cars was parked next to and attempted to catch your breath.

“Alright. Run,” Dean ordered you and Sam. “I'll draw them off.”

“What?!” you and Sam hissed simultaneously. Sam’s, “No, you're crazy!” and your, “No fucking way, Dean!” followed him out of the alley. You watched in horror as Dean jumped onto a car across the street from you and narrowly missed being hit by a bullet whizzing past him. Your breath released when he pulled himself over a second-story parking lot entrance, and you nodded at Sam to head down the alley further before Gordon or his friend could find you here.

***

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you spat. “As soon as he gets back here, he’s fucking dead.”

Sam paced between the two beds while you sat angrily at the table in the motel room, flipping your knife anxiously.

“There you are!” Sam exclaimed when his brother burst through the door.

“Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice,” Dean replied at complete ease.

You stood, face set dangerously in anger and almost daring Dean to say something to set you off even further. “Couldn’t even call us to tell us you were okay?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you continued to chastise him. “Great fucking going, by the way, runnin’ into the line of fire.”

“Well, what can I say? I'm a bad-ass.”

You were floored at Dean’s blatant disregard of your concern and anger. His disrespect was definitely getting him closer and closer to the doghouse with each passing second.

“So, I guess Gordon's out of jail,” Dean mentioned casually.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. You know, how the hell did he know where to find us?” Sam asked.

Through your anger, it dawned on you. You became even further enraged. “Bela.” Before the Winchesters could make a comment, you pulled out your phone and called her.

“Hello, darling.” You could almost hear the smile in Bela’s voice as she spoke.

“Got something to tell me, lover?” you mockingly replied.

“There was something, actually,” she said. “Gordon Walker paid me to tell him where you were.”

You hummed through gritted teeth.

“Well, he had a gun on me. What else was I supposed to do?” she laughed uncomfortably.

“Pick up the damn phone after he’s gone,” you answered, voice uncomfortably calm.

“I did fully intend to call, I just got a bit sidetracked,” she rushed out, still trying to maintain her cool and failing miserably. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was such a big deal. After all, there are three of you and one of him.”

“There were two of them, but thanks for playin’,” you remarked.

“Oh.” You heard a shift in her tone, but you were too angry to care.

“Listen to me closely,” you began. “If I make it out of this alive, the first fucking thing I’m gonna do is kill you.”

“You’re not serious!” she protested.

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” you responded, your voice still eerily calm.

“(Y/N)—”

“Goodbye, Bela.” You snapped your phone shut. When you’d hung up, you took a deep breath. Your brief moment of solace was disrupted by Dean.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

To even your own surprise, you laughed; hard. You felt insane yourself, but you were so angry, you couldn’t speak. When you’d calmed down enough to talk, you hissed, “Do you think I’m fucking okay?!”

“No, I just—”

You steeled yourself. “No. We’ll talk about this later,” you asserted, and Dean snapped his mouth shut obediently. “For now, we gotta track a vamp.”

“First things first,” Dean began trepidatiously, trying not to set you off again.

“Gordon,” you nodded.

“About that. When we find him, or if he finds us…” the older brother trailed off. “Well, I'm just saying, he's not leaving us a whole lot of options.”

Calmly, Sam stated, “Yeah, I know. We've got to kill him.”

“Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like—” he gave his best impersonation of his younger brother’s whiny voice, “ ‘No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong’.”

Sam shrugged. “No, I'm done. I mean, Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead... or till he is.”

Your phone rang, and you scowled at it when you read the caller ID. “What?!”

“I don't like it when people hold grudges against me,” Bela started, “and more to the point, I'd rather you didn't kill me, so I went ahead and found Gordon's exact location for you.”

“You're a hundred miles away. How the hell did you—”

“Hello? Purveyor of powerful occult objects?” she remarked. “I used a talking board to contact the other side.”

“And?” you prompted.

“Warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“One more thing. The spirit had a message for you. ‘Leave town, run like hell, and whatever you do, don't go after Gordon.’ For whatever that's worth,” Bela told you before hanging up.

You considered her words carefully and told the boys what you’d heard.

Dean, who’d been sharpening his machete, stowed the weapon in his duffel bag and immediately headed out of the door. You and Sam followed his lead. Despite the little sleep you’d been getting and the long night ahead, you felt wide awake.

***

You were on even higher alert when you arrived at the building Bela had described. As a precaution, you and Dean grabbed machetes and handguns. Sam stayed behind you with his own gun, and the three of you carefully entered the warehouse.

You heard what sounded like crying coming from down the stairs near the entrance, and you motioned for Sam and Dean to follow you.

As the room below came into view, you were stunned to see the vampire you’d been looking for kneeling; surrounded by the bodies of young girls with their heads having been ripped manually from their bodies. About a dozen blonde and bloodied heads lay scattered mercilessly across the floor, and despite your years of experience, your stomach turned at the sight.

“Go ahead,” the vampire encouraged, unmoving. “Do it. Kill me.”

“What happened here?” Sam asked him.

“Gordon Walker,” he sniffed. “I never should have brought a hunter here. Never. I just... I just wanted some kind of revenge. Stupid... exposing him to my family.”

“Oh, yeah, you're such a family man,” Dean couldn’t help but remark.

The vampire paused for a tense moment. “You don't understand.”

“I don't want to understand, you son of—”

The vampire cut him off, standing and crying out, “I was desperate! You ever felt desperate?”

You turned to see Dean with that infuriatingly unreadable expression on his face.

“I've lost everyone I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?” he said, approaching you.

You tightened your grip on your machete.

Despite how the vampire’s words were clearly beginning to affect him, Dean snarkily replied, “Well, there's Hell.”

“I wasn't thinking. I just... I didn't care anymore. Do you know it's like when you just don't give a damn? It's like... it's like being dead already.” He looked down at your machete. “So just go ahead. Do it.”

Sam was bent over, inspecting the heads of the girls that lay on the floor. “Dean. Head wasn't cut off, it was ripped off. With someone's bare hands. Dixon, what did you do to Gordon?”

Dixon didn’t respond for a moment.

“He asked you a question,” you stated firmly.

“I turned him,” was Dixon’s immediate reply.

You dropped your head in frustration before immediately recovering and swiping Dixon’s head clean off.

***

When both boys had gone to bed, you snuck out to the Impala wrapped in a hoodie and sweatpants. Illuminated only by the moon and a singular streetlight across from your rural motel, you rolled a joint sitting on the trunk and staring up at the sky. As the smoke filled your lungs, you fought back your rising emotions.

A few minutes later, Dean walked up beside you. He stared straight ahead, as did you. “You should get some sleep,” Dean instructed.

You remained unmoving and took another hit of your joint. Your long inhale and exhale was making Dean nervous for your response; you could practically feel his anxiety radiating off him despite how he tried to hide it. “I’ll sleep when I know I’m not losing both of you,” you finally replied quietly.

He scoffed, and you saw him drop his head to the side out of the corner of your eye. “What do you mean, you’re not losing—”

“You took a big fucking risk, Dean,” you cut him off. “You’re getting more and more reckless.”

“It’s a dangerous gig, (Y/N),” he argued, voice steely. “We all take risks every once in a while.”

“Risks is different than attempted suicide, dude,” you replied.

“When’s the last time Sam or I jumped in front of two firing guns?”

“That’s just ‘cause you guys are pussies—”

“No, dammit!” You stood and threw your joint to the ground, stamping it out. You turned to him for the first time in your conversation. “I am so tired of your crap! Do you know what it feels like to watch you take greater, dumber risks than you already normally do because you know you have an expiration date?! Why are you acting like you want to rush it? Because you and I both know you’re terrified—”

“You don’t know that,” Dean shook his head, brows drawn together and jaw clenched in anger.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “Because I know you. And I love you. And—” your voice broke, but you pushed through the angry tears, “selfishly, I don’t wanna lose the little bit of time I have left with you because you’re on some… kamikaze trip or whatever.”

Dean stared down at you, and you stared back despite the tears steadily sliding down your cheeks. After a moment, he pulled you into his chest and rested his head on top of yours. You wrapped your arms around him and deeply inhaled his scent. Dean kissed the top of your head, and you sighed contentedly.

“Please don’t make this harder for me,” you begged him. “Please.” You pulled away from him and gingerly touched his cheek. “And don’t give up on my boy just yet, okay?”

Dean nodded and kissed your palm. You figured he hadn’t spoken in a while because he was choking back tears of his own that were now beginning to slip down his cheeks.

“And when you’re scared, talk to me. Please. Please, just talk to me,” you implored. “I know you say you’re not good at the ‘touchy-feely’ or whatever, but you don’t have to do this alone. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, voice rough with emotion.

You pulled his face down to yours and kissed him gently, savoring the way Dean’s lips felt against yours; soft and pillowy in contrast to the rough stubble in your hands given he hadn’t shaved in a few days. When you pulled away, he kept you close to him by your waist. “Talk to me, baby. I’m here for you always. Even when you’re gone,” you said. “I… I don’t know what it’s like down there. But if you can talk, talk to me. Tell me what it’s like. Tell me when it hurts and when you’re scared. Because you are never alone.”

Dean rested his forehead against yours and shut his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you,” he murmured.

You tilted your chin up and kissed the tip of his nose. “You didn’t have to do anything. You deserve love, Dee. Just for simply being you.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, his voice conveying every bit of brokenness he was feeling.

Dean was averting his eyes from your face, but you returned your hands to either side of his face and made him look at you. “Because you are the most… loving man I have ever met.”

When he shook his head and tried to look away, you kept him in his place.

“No, look at me,” you continued tearfully. “Remember when I told you I didn’t know what love felt like? ‘Cause of my parents and all that?”

Dean nodded.

“I know what it feels like now. Because of you,” you told him, an emotional smile tugging on the corners of your lips. “You… are changing me. For the better. And I’m gonna tell you something stupid and cliche—”

“Oh, god—” he groaned, chuckling.

“—so just brace yourself, okay?” you laughed, sniffling. “To know you is to love you. I’m dead serious. And I know you don’t believe me. I know you see yourself, like… like a weapon. The way your dad raised you…” you shook your head, feeling yourself become angry that Dean was raised similarly to you. “I mean, he pretty much trained you to hate yourself. But you are so much more than what he made you believe you are.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” you continued. “I mean, I’m fucking pissed at you for throwing yourself in the line of fire, but I know why you do it. Because you love me. And you love Sam. And as much as it infuriates me, you’d rather die than watch Sam or I do so.” You snorted, “I mean, that’s why we’re in this deal situation to begin with, right?” pulling a chuckle from Dean.

“So can you do something for me?” you asked.

“Anything if it’ll get you to shut up,” he smirked, and you knew it was because he couldn’t handle much more verbal affection.

“Start treating you the way I see you,” you said. “Like… treat yourself like you matter. ‘Cause you do. And I love you.”

His face was contorted in a confusing mix of discomfort from the onslaught of affirmation, love for you, and what seemed like pride in hearing you talk about him like that.

“Can you do that for me?” you asked.

Dean nodded. “I’ll try.”

***

The next night, you and the boys were regrouping in the motel room following having searched the city for Gordon all day long. A little over two hours ago, you’d returned from getting new phones for you and the brothers in an attempt to avoid Gordon tracking you through the SIM cards on your original devices, and it seemed the two boys had a deep conversation while you were gone. For that, you were thankful; the two had needed to hash it out for a while now.

Much to your surprise, your phone rang.

“You've had that phone two hours, (Y/N),” Sam said, confused. “Who'd you give the number to?”

“Nobody,” you replied, mirroring his surprise. “Hello?” you answered the phone.

“Hi, sweetie.”

You turned to the boys and put your phone on speaker. “How’d you get this number?” you asked, stepping back from the phone as if Gordon could jump out and hurt you through it.

“Your scent's all over the cellphone store,” Gordon explained. He seemed to realize you had put him on speaker. “Gotta tell you, Dean, your girl smells good. Of course, I can't smell her now. Where are you?”

Dean’s jaw clenched in fury, and he spat, “Well, I guess you'll just have to find us, won't you.”

“I’d rather you come to me,” Gordon replied smoothly.

“What's the matter, Gordo? You're not afraid of us, are you? We're just sitting here. Bring it on!” Dean challenged.

“I don't think so.”

Then, you heard the voice of a woman crying through the phone.

Your eyes widened slightly in fear for the girl, and Gordon shushed the girl on the other end of the line. “Factory on riverside off the turnpike. Be here in twenty minutes, or the girl dies.”

“Gordon, let the girl go,” Dean asserted. “Bye, Dean,” Gordon said.

“Gordon!” Dean yelled, stopping him from hanging up the call. “Don't do this. You don't kill innocent people. You're still a hunter.”

“No,” he chuckled coldly. “I'm a monster.” And with that, he hung up.

***

“I’m gonna waste that fucker, I swear,” you growled as you helped Sam and Dean untie the girl Gordon had kidnapped.

“Hey, we got you,” Sam told her. “Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here.” He gave her a few instructions to begin leading her out of the factory.

The woman sobbed, and the poor thing could barely walk. Dean cradled her in his arms, instructing you and Sam to stay close. Unfortunately, the two of you were not close enough. A door slid closed from above, cutting you and Sam off from Dean.

“Sam!” Dean yelled. “(Y/N)!”

“Dean!” you cried, pushing at the door.

Sam pounded the door in frustration. You gave it one final kick, which you knew was pointless, but it helped to get a little anger out.

“Both of you; be careful!” Dean instructed through the door.

Then, the lights went out.

“Sam!” you called through the darkness.

“Right here!”

You followed his voice till you were back-to-back with him, the two of you trying your best to get your bearings in the dark.

“Sorry, sweetie, didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this,” Gordon spoke through the darkness, his voice still hauntingly even as ever.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you hissed.

“Gordon! You got me where you want me. You might as well come out and fight!” Sam asserted.

Suddenly, Gordon’s voice seemed to be between your and Sam’s head. “I'm right here, Sam.”

The two of you swished your machetes, the two hitting each other and igniting sparks for a brief moment.

“What's the matter, Sammy?” Gordon chuckled.

“So, this is really the way you want to do it, huh?” Sam taunted despite his growing anxiety.

“Damn right I do,” Gordon snarled. “You have no idea what I faced to get here. I lost everything. My life. But it's worth it, 'cause I'm finally gonna kill the most dangerous thing I ever hunted. You're not human, Sam.”

“Look who's talking,” you replied.

“You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer.” Gordon’s voice sounded like it was coming from every direction.

“Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice,” Sam said, back still pressed to yours.

“I don't,” Gordon responded.

“Yes you do, Gordon. You didn't kill that girl.”

“No, I didn't. I did something much, much worse.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” you cursed.

“Remember what happened the last time you talked bad about my mother, (Y/N)?” the vampire taunted, voice sounding in front of you.

You swiped at the darkness, but Gordon was too fast for you.

“I got to hand it to you, Sam,” Gordon began. “You got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna… as soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds. Killing you, and killing myself.”

“You fucker!” you charged right where you’d nailed Gordon’s voice down as emanating from as he spoke, and you tried to swipe at him. Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get to Gordon fast enough. He sent you flying through the door you’d been separated from Dean by, and you collapsed to the floor in a painful heap.

“(Y/N)!” Dean cried.

“I’m fine!” you yelled back, trying your best to brush it off. Your whole body hurt like hell, but you would not be useless in this fight. You grabbed your machete just in time to see Gordon fling Sam across the room.

Dean aimed the Colt at Gordon’s head, but Gordon wheeled around to grab Dean’s arm. He threw your partner against the wall and pinned him, sinking his teeth into Dean’s neck.

“No!” you screamed, throwing yourself at Gordon. You managed to get your arm around his neck and pull him to the ground with you. Much to your chagrin, Gordon recovered quickly, and he immediately tried to get a bite in at your neck. With an almost delighted smile, you slashed at Gordon’s head. It rolled away from you, and the rest of Gordon’s body slumped to the ground next to you.

You didn’t take more than a moment to catch your breath before you staggered to your feet to help your boys.

Sam was still in a heap on the floor trying to catch his breath, and Dean clutched his neck in pain. Despite the pain in your own body, you staggered toward Sam to help him up. The two of you groaned as you did so, and he threw an arm around your shoulders for support. Dean staggered to you, too, and the three of you stumbled off; each trying to support the other’s weight.

***

Somewhere between cities, Dean pulled off to the side of the road due to a rattling noise coming from under the hood and worked away at it. Meanwhile, you took three beers out of the cooler. You passed one to Dean when you’d opened it for him, and Sam sat on the lid of the cooler while he drank his.

“Thanks,” Dean smiled lopsidedly at you.

“Figure out what's making that rattle?” the younger brother asked.

“Not yet. Give me a box wrench, would you?”

Sam rifled through the toolbox and handed it to his sibling.

Dean thanked him but paused, looking thoughtful. “Sam,” he said.

“Wrong one?”

“No, no, no, come here for a second.”

Sam looked confused, but he got up and leaned under the hood with Dean.

You looked on, a smile pulling at your lips, and you replaced Sam on the cooler’s lid.

“This rattle could be a couple of things. I'm thinking it's an out-of-tune carb,” Dean began to explain, gesturing to something within the car you couldn’t see.

Sam still looked confused. “Okay.” “Alright, see this thing?” Dean gestured to something else. “It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench.”

Sam did so.

“Alright, you with me so far?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads.”

“Very good,” Dean nodded. “Now this is your intake manifold, okay, and on top of it?” He paused, looking at Sam expectantly. Sam smiled, trying to remember. “It's, uh, uh, a carburetor.”

Dean nodded, repeating the word. “Very good.”

“What's with the auto shop?” Sam asked.

Dean held out the socket wrench to Sam, ignoring his question.

“What, you don't mean you want—”

Dean cut his brother off. “Yeah, I do. You fix it.”

“Dean, you barely let me drive this thing.”

The older man shrugged. “Well, it's time. You should know how to fix it. You're gonna need to know these things for the future.”

Your heart clenched at Dean’s admission.

“And besides, that's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?” he continued.

Sam nodded and took the wrench, swallowing down a little emotion. Even still, he leaned under the hood and started unscrewing.

Dean gestured for you to stand. He took your place on the cooler and patted his thigh. Happily, you perched atop it, and the two of you watched Sam.

Dean took a sip of his beer, lazily stroking your hip. “Put your shoulder into it,” he instructed Sam.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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