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yourmomxx · 1 year ago

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Family Line

father of mine masterlist

summary: the hunt for the monster starts. We find out what happened all those years ago between Dean and his daughter.

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, descriptions of blood, descriptions of murder, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 8,5k

a/n: we did it, guys! this is the last part of the father-of-mine series. I’m really sorry about the late upload, but I do hope it was worth the wait! This might be the ending of this series, but not quite the ending of the story … thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting this story, sequels and prequels about dean and his daughter will definitely come!

pt1 pt2 pt3

Sioux Falls 2007

It was late at night, and in Bobby Singer’s Junkyard, the lights were still on. Accompanying the chirping tunes of the cicadas, a fading pop song from somewhere in the ‘70s was trailing out the windows.

On the small wooden table in the kitchen, Dean and Sam Winchester had spread out a multitude of lore books found in Bobby’s bookshelf, some worn out, some torn, and Sam was currently leaned over a particularly ugly-written paragraph dedicated to the magical use of a pan’s flute.

“Dean, I can hear you being silent.” Sam raised his head to look his older brother in the eye. “What is it?”

Dean shrugged, threw a look at the numerous variations of old books about supernatural creatures laid out in front of them, then at his little brother.

“You’re overworking yourself, Sammy,” Dean pointed out. The keyboard clicked as he typed something on the laptop.

“Dean, we’ve been over this,” Sam said. “I’m just trying to find a way for you to not die. You can’t exactly blame me for that.”

“Yes, exactly, we’ve been over it,” Dean countered. “And I told you there’s no way around it. I made a deal, that’s it. Period, no refunds.”

Sam clenched his jaw. “Well, I don’t want that to be it.” He muttered under his breath.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when they heard the sound of tiny footsteps over the floor.

Dean perked up and turned his head.

“Hey, my little love.”

A while ago, the soft tone in his brother’s words would have caught Sam completely off guard. By now, he was already getting used to the way Dean’s eyes had a different look in them – one of pure love – and he spoke with a softness as if his words alone should wrap their recipient up in satin cloth.

Sam turned around to look at who Dean was talking to, and was not surprised to see a small girl trutting towards them, little legs still uncoordinated after only just waking up. Her small fists were rubbing her squinted eyes, the light in the living room must be blinding her.

Y/N made her way over to Dean and made grabby hands up at him.

Dean chuckled and picked his daughter up under her arms, placing her carefully on his thigh as she nuzzled into his dark flannel shirt.

Sam smiled at the contrast of Dean’s shirt, and her bright yellow children’s nightgown with the washed out Led Zeppelin-logo printed on.

Dean’s big hand was rubbing circles on her back, as he craned his neck to bow it down to her.

“What are you doing awake so late, sweetheart?” He hushed.

Y/N nuzzled her nose into his neck. “’d a bad dream,” she mumbled.

Sam could see the emotion cross over his brother’s face for a brief second as he made eye contact with him.

They both knew that this could – would – happen. That little girl had been through so much already, at her young age, had seen and lost things no child should ever see or lose.

They both had known that nightmares would probably eventually start haunting her, but yet, they had still not been prepared for when it was the time.

Dean didn’t know what he should be feeling, his daughter had had a nightmare, and all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her, keep her there, and kill everything in her way to becoming happy.

But he knew he couldn’t do that. And that’s why he wanted to, so much more.

“Really?” He asked instead, hand not leaving her back. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”

“Everybody was leaving me,” Y/N sniffled, small fist rubbing her nose. “You, Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam, Grandpa Bobby.” Another sniffle.

“I was all alone.”

Dean felt like sobbing. A heavy weight had latched itself on his heart. Oh, his little girl. How much he loved her.

“Sweetheart, it was just a bad dream,” he promised to her. “We are not going to leave you alone, I swear.”

Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.

“Pinky promise?” She asked.

Dean lifted his free hand and linked his pinky finger with hers. “Pinky promise,” he said.

Something told him he had made a mistake. But he couldn’t care right now.

Still, he felt like a liar.

“Now,” he said, a conspiratorial tone in his words, “What do you say we get you back to bed and I stay until you fall asleep, hm? How does that sound?”

Y/N didn’t fuss long about it, she just nodded her head and nuzzled closer to him.

Dean understood the silent command, and lifted her into his arms as he stood up. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Sam looked after them as they disappeared up the stairs. Now alone, he turned his attention back to his research. Why he was reading everything about the dog Cerberus right now, he couldn’t quite decipher, but he was grasping onto every straw.

A few minutes passed by, and Dean was still not back. Another few, another few.

Sam frowned as he looked at the clock on the wall. 5.13 in the evening. Sam realized now that the clock was broken.

Curtly, he stood up from the table and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.

The door to Y/N’s room was open, hiding the colored sign she had written her name on (with Dean’s help) to inform everyone of her territory.

Careful to be quiet, Sam stepped closer to the threshold, peeking into the dark room. A dim night light in the form of a crescent moon was burning on the nightstand. In the bed laid a small bundle of blankets and stuffed animals, which Sam could only guess was Y/N.

Next to her, holding the girl in his arms, Sam spotted Dean, probably holding on for dear life on the edge of the narrow bed.

Sam smiled at them.

Through the silence, a soft, hummed melody reached Sam’s ears, and he perked up.

He knew that song from somewhere, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Na-na na na. Nana na-a.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, are you singing her Smells like Teen Spirit?”

Dean looked at him, grinning. “Yeah. It’s a classic.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sam was the stupid one.

“I mean, look at her,” he said, his gaze shifting to his daughter again. “She’s gonna be a badass one day. Right? One day, you’re gonna be as badass and cool as your daddy.”

Oh yeah, that girl was out like a light.

Sam just shook his head chuckling. “All right, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Dean didn’t answer him, but he knew he heard him.

A few minutes after Sam had left, currently sitting at the kitchen table again, starting a new chapter of the same book, Dean came downstairs.

Wordlessly, he took his seat across from Sam, and pulled one of the lore books closer to him.

And though he had an idea where his brother’s new sense of determination came from, Sam didn’t say a word when Dean started reading.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

Now

When you called, for a brief second Sam was worried that Dean was gonna crash the car. The way his face morphed into shock, concern and then anger, while he was talking to you on the phone had his little brother worried.

After you hung up, Sam pretended not to notice the way Dean pushed further into the gas pedal.

The first rays of the morning sunlight made their way over the hills, when Sam and Dean arrived at the Group Home. Dean didn’t bother with a neat parking maneuver, and just turned the motor off, then made his way with fast steps over to the castle.

Sam trailed behind.

They had no problem entering the building, Maria had given them an official key card for their investigations. Dean stormed down the hallways with a fast step, as if he had memorized the entire way by heart.

Sam wouldn’t blame him.

You were sitting on your bed when they came in. Or more, cowering there.

Sam was all too familiar with the look of disturbed terror in your eyes, even when you firmly avoided looking at either of them.

“Y/N?” Dean moved a step forward, stretching his hand out towards you as if to soothingly touch your shoulder, but hesitated in his movement and pulled away.

Sam threw him a worried look that Dean didn’t seem to catch.

“What happened?”

Your fingers were continuously drumming against your knee pulled close to your chest.

“’d a bad dream,” you mumbled. Sam could hear the fear in your voice. Dean sat down in your chair opposite the bed.

“When I woke up, there was …” You swallowed and hardly squinted your eyes. “I don’t know what it was. Looked like two yellow … eyes.”

Sam couldn’t help the disgusted twist his face made at the word. He couldn’t imagine waking up to something like this.

Dean exchanged a look with him. Your story confirmed their theory even more.

On the bed, you had gone quiet again. Your fingers were still drumming an uneven pattern on your skin.

This didn’t make sense. This didn’t make sense. She was dead, Cass was dead. Roy was dead. Dean Winchester was here. He left you, and now he was here, but not for you, no, but for Roy. They were all dead.

And you were next.

“Have you ever heard of an alp?” Your head snapped up as Dean’s question pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“An Alp?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “I mean - yes, I came across that lore when I was still taking German literature.”

“You took German Literature?” Dean regretted his question as soon as he asked it.

“Yes,” you answered, but something had shifted in your tone. It was low and pressed. Shit. He knew he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Sam felt like smacking his brother across the head.

“So you know what they are?” He asked instead, and you shrugged, looking at your feet again.

“Yes, well, I know that the Germans believed that an Alp would sit on their chests while they slept, and it would feed on their good dreams - plaguing the sleeping person with terrible nightmares. That’s why they used to have shortened beds, because if they weren’t lying down, the alp couldn’t sit on their chest.”

While you talked, realization hit you like a brick. Or more like a huge wave, rather, if the feeling of being violently ripped of all air was anything to go by.

“Oh my God,” You breathed out. “Cass and Roy both had nightmares before they died.” You looked between Dean and Sam with shock-widened eyes. “This Alp thing was the reason for all of this, right? I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“Not if we have a say in it.” Dean’s jaw remained stoically clenched as he spoke his promise.

“What did you dream about?” Sam asked.

You ducked your head even further into yourself and picked at the skin next to your nails. “’s it important?”

“It could be.”

You took a deep breath and bit the inside of your cheek. “Same as Roy,” you simply said. “Worst day of my life.”

And, okay. Sam didn’t get into college for being slow, he knew exactly what day that was. And judging by the brief flicker of emotion crossing over Dean’s face, he knew, too.

But he didn’t address it and only cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, if it really is an Alp – which it probably is – then we already know how to get rid of it.”

“We would lure it into a trap. You know, get us some … bait and then just –“ Dean symbolically dragged a finger across his throat.

You raised your eyebrows in concern. “And how do you think that’s gonna work?”

Admittedly, this hadn’t been your smartest moment, but given the circumstances you were in, you figured you could be forgiven.

Sam dipped his head. “That’s where you come in.”

“You can always say no,” Dean carefully offered. “If you don’t want to do it.”

You lifted your chin in the air. “This thing is the reason two of my best friends are dead,” you said. “I want to pay back the favor.”

Sam nodded. “Alright then.”

“So you guys got a plan?” You asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we do.”

—

It was loud in the cafeteria. It always was. Today, though, you were especially aware of it, because most of the noise was heavily directed towards you.

Or rather, about you, which had just the same effect in your opinion.

You had barely entered the big room and had already felt a few dozen eyes fixated on you. The whispering had started when you got closer to the buffet, and the occasional double-take and looking-fast-away-when-she-is-looking had continued when you had sat down.

Of course, how else should it be, you had been given the rehearsed “My condolences” or “I’m so sorry for your loss”.

Long story short, to you it felt like the day of Roy’s death all over again.

Except this time, they were serving pasta, and not chicken with rice.

It was days like these (which, in your opinion, had been happening far too often over the past few weeks), that made you hate this place even more. It’s not like you had had a reason for that before, the supervisors were nice, so were the helping staff and, of course, Maria.

Maria, who had taken you under her wing from the first day you arrived here. She had acted like a mother towards you, the one you had never had, no matter how hostile you had acted towards her.

Still, as you grew older, the whole thing felt simply more washed out and sickening.

Maybe this really was just a side effect of puberty, as your gynecologist had said.

As you let your gaze travel over the many familiar faces, you couldn’t help but notice that Finn wasn’t under any of them.

Finn, your beloved Finn. You then suddenly remembered the text conversation the two of you had had the other night. Before, well – everything. You still needed to stay true to that.

Silently, you made a note to yourself in your head, to drop by his room straight after lu-

A broad silhouette squeezing into the seat opposite you blocked your view over the hall, and your eyebrows shot up as you realized who it was.

“Uhm, hello?” You asked as Dean folded his hands on the table.

“You told everyone I was dead?” He asked, purposely skimming over your question.

You frowned and opened the small package of parmesan. “Well, aren’t you? About six times?”

Dean frowned and you caught him counting something under his breath with his fingers.

You shook your head, making a point of ignoring him and poured sauce over the dry spaghetti.

“That’s not even my point.”

“What, you’re saying you didn’t barge into the middle of my lunch – after the night I had – to scold me over the inaccuracy of your death rate?” You clicked your tongue. “Surprise.”

Dean apparently didn’t deem it necessary to address your sarcastic tone. That, or he knew just how much he deserved it, which you were fine with, either way.

“Look,” he started, and Jesus, this was going to be serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.”

Confused, you tilted your head.

“I mean about the dream,” Dean quickly added. “I mean, we both know what it was about, and I just …” He cut himself off, cleared his throat, and let out a short breath that was probably supposed to be failed attempt at a laugh.

“I’m not a big … talking guy, you know? But I just … I always told myself, if I ever had kids, that I would be different then. That …” He stopped again.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You scoffed. “You’re a bit late for that,” you spat. “I mean, it’s been what, almost a decade? ‘Sorry’ travels far, but not that many years.”

“I know that,” Dean said, “But I want you to know, that-“

“Well, I don’t want to know!” You interrupted him. Maybe too loud, if the simultaneous turn of heads was anything to go by. “I don’t want you to tell me anything. No excuses, no explanations, I want, and I need absolutely nothing from you, you understand?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek.

“Believe me, I do.” He said. “But still-“

“No!” The dishes clattered as you slammed your hand on the table. “Dean, you don’t understand! You just left me here, at this orphanage –“

“It’s a group home.”

“Same thing, Dean!” You snapped. “Just a fancier word.”

Dean carefully pulled his hand away from the table, folding it with his other in his lap. You could feel him watching you, but you consequently avoided his gaze.

“Look, I’m not gonna have this conversation right now,” You decided. “I am going to go talk to my best friend, and when I go to sleep, I’ll try not to get killed! So goodbye.”

And with that, you picked up your still full lunch-tray, dumped it on one of the cleaning wagons, and made your way out of the cafeteria.

You never turned around to see Dean looking after you.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

St. George, Louisiana 2012

Dean Winchester was standing by a window. Through the clean glass he had a clear view of green gardens, well-kept flowers and trees leaning in the soft breeze of the wind.

Further away, he spotted the tall hedge walls of something that had to be a garden maze.

“I hope you know just how grateful I am for what you and your brother did for me.”

The voice of Maria Whitlock lifted Dean out of his thoughts, and he turned around to face the older woman.

She spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded him of a mother he never had, but learned to long for.

Dean nodded. “That’s our job.”

Maria gave him a look and tilted her head. He was standing in her office, a neatly tidied room with a shelf for books and files, and a rather expensive looking desk. Very clean as well.

“What you decided to do was probably very hard,” she continued. “But I can assure you, in most cases, it turns out to be the better option for both parties.”

He didn’t like the way she talked about his plan like it was a good thing, when it wasn’t. It didn’t make him a good person for doing it.

“I’m sure, Dean, that there will be a lovely family out there who will take care of her –“

“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly interrupted her. It was the first time in here he had spoken more than for words. “I don’t … I don’t want someone else to take her in.”

Maria raised her skeptical eyebrows at him. “Do I understand correctly, Dean?” She asked. “You want her to just - stay here?” And her tone was implying exactly what she held of that idea.

“Look, I know how that sounds.”

“I really hope you do.”

“But my job doesn’t allow me to properly take care of her. When Bobby was still - well, she stayed with him, and we visited her from time to time.”

Maria nodded. “I understand. But what you have to understand, is, that this will surely not be easy for her. Whereas many of the elder children indeed do live here, the younger ones are usually adopted by a foster family who can take care of them. Who can love them,” she added.

Dean looked out the window again.

“I understand that,” He said. “But this is how I want it.”

He couldn’t see Maria behind him, as he was turned away from her, but he could well sense the way her observing, maybe judging gaze was burning between his shoulder blades.

“Well, then.” She sighed.

And as Dean watched the flowers dance in the wind, listening to Maria shuffling through her papers, he couldn’t help but think that this might be one of the most selfish decisions he has ever made.

—

Soft wind was tugging at Dean’s hair. Somewhere in the distance he was aware of the rippling water of a small fountain.

Dean tried to not actively think of what he was doing here. Of the consequences his actions would inevitably cause. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Y/N’s hand was holding his in a strong grip, as they walked up to Maria and he greeted her.

Maria leaned down to be on eye level with his daughter and smiled at her.

“Hello Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you! I’m sure you’ll settle in here just nicely.”

Dean crouched down and placed both his arms on Y/N’s for her to look at him. She had been eyeing Maria and the castle suspiciously.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he started. “Maria is really, really nice. And because Uncle Sam and I have to work so much, she is going to take very good care of you.”

Y/N averted his eyes and stared at her shoes. Then, sh burst forward, slung her small arms around Dean’s neck and buried her face in his chest.

“I wanna go with you,” she mumbled into his jacket. Dean sighed. With a heavy heart, be broke out of the embrace. “I promise I’m old enough, I want to go with you!” She pleaded again. With every word, Dean’s heart shattered just a bit more.

“Look, you remember when you stayed with Grandpa Bobby for a while when me and Uncle Sammy had to work?” She nodded, sniffling.

“This is gonna be just like that. I promise.”

Y/N sniffled again. Then she held out her hand to him. “Pinky promise?”

I promise that we’ll be fine.

I promise that we’d never just leave you alone.

I promise that Grandpa Bobby will be alright.

Dean pulled Y/N into his chest again. He breathed in deep, as if that would somehow help him savor this moment, savor her to be engraved in his brain to never forget. His little girl, the only thing good and pure in his life.

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart again.

He stood up, and even though he wasn’t that old, everything in his body hurt at the movement.

“But I don’t know anyone here!” Y/N said again. It has been her go-to argument the entire car ride to the castle.

“I want to go with you and Uncle Sam!”

“Y/N!” The sharpness in Dean’s tone felt like it was cutting him. “I said you can’t.”

Her bottom lip started to tremble, before a big tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one, and another one, until she was full-on sobbing.

“Please, Dad!” She cried, and Dean’s heart shattered.

Behind her, Maria put a caring hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, sweetie, say goodbye to your dad.”

Y/N violently shook her hand off her body. “No! No, I don’t want to go with you! I want to stay with my dad!”

Maria and Dean exchanged a look. In her eyes, he recognized something that told him to change his mind.

It took everything in Dean to turn around and walk away.

He fixated his eyes on his car a few feet away from him. He wasn’t walking very fast, but with the weight that felt tied to his feet, it was the best he could do.

Behind him, Y/N kept crying. And as she was pleading and pleading, for him to come back, for him to stay, the feeling of realization started heavily sinking in, that he was really waking away.

Not only from this situation, from his daughters cries, but from her. From his child.

His feet felt even heavier.

When he reached the car door and opened it, he didn’t feel anything. Everything happened in a haze. He vaguely registered starting the car and pressing his foot on the gas pedal.

His daughter’s sobs were still replaying over and over in his mind like the sounds of a broken vinyl, as the naked road flew by the dirty windows.

Sam didn’t address the single tear that rolled down his brother’s cheek. And Dean just kept driving.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

Now

Since forever on, you had never been quite good with your emotions. Portraying them, talking about them, feeling them.

It was an obstacle.

Looking back at it, you figured it was probably somehow running in your family, the whole being emotionally unavailable thing.

Could that be inherited? According to your biology teacher, yes, but you didn’t know how well you believed that.

Nevertheless, as you knocked on the cold door that was the entrance to your - only left – best friend’s room, emotions welled up in your throat as choking as a tidal wave clashing its weight over your head.

It was dark in there. The curtains had been pulled closed and the thick material wouldn’t let a flicker of daylight in the room.

A smell hung over the entire place, of stale air and leftover food, and the sensation of hopelessness. Finn was sitting on the edge of his bed, a dark silhouette staring crooked at his hands in his lap, only illuminated by the weak light of the bedside lamp.

Without properly acknowledging him, you took quick strides to the other side of the room, and without further ado, ripped his curtains open.

The sun was already lowering down the horizon again, but the leftover light was still enough to turn the dark silhouettes in the bedroom into concrete shapes, of dirty plates, glasses, and clothes scattered all over the floor.

From his place on the bed, Finn groaned lowly, like a small bear being awaken from hibernation.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes as you sat down next to him. The bed dipped under your weight and you moved over a few study sheets that laid on his duvet.

“Hey,” you said.

Finn dropped his hands into his lap again and turned his tired gaze on you.

“Hey,” he said back.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Finn’s eyes tiredly scanned the room around him, the mess it was in, and then shook his head.

“Nah.”

“Alright.” You weren’t, really, but that conversation could wait until another time.

“How you holdin’ up?”

Finn tilted his head to you in a way that said ‘Ain’t it obvious?’ and you shrugged in response. “Stupid question, got it.”

Finn sighed.

There was a silence building between the two of you that you didn’t like. You kept yourself from fidgeting impatiently on the sheets.

“I just-“ Finn cut himself off and ruffled his hand through his hair. “Ever since – well, yesterday – I’ve been thinking about …”

He broke off again, blinking with his face towards the ceiling to avoid the falling of tears.

“Y/N, the last thing I said to her, was – we fought.” Finn’s confession was almost a whimper as he looked at you, awaiting your reaction.

Your heart broke at the look in his eyes, so clouded full with guilt and self-loathing, you almost didn’t recognize him.

“Oh, Finn, she loved you.” You sighed, and placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm. “She knew what you were going through, what we were all going through. And trust me, she never, not for a second, held it against you. That was one moment out of almost ten years we all spent together. It didn’t mean anything, not in the long run.”

Finn sniffed and rubbed his nose, diverting his gaze to his hands again.

“Finn, she didn’t die hating you.” You put emphasis on every word as much as you could, because you wanted him to hear you, to understand, to believe. You didn’t want to let him wallow in his own self-destructing thoughts about something that wasn’t even true, not in the slightest bit.

Finn just hummed, but didn’t meet your eyes, just kept them trained on his lap. You sighed and let your hand slowly slide from his arm.

For a while, it was quiet again.

“My father is here,” you then blurted out.

Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that died?”

“Yeah.” You weighed your head. “In my defense, I thought he died too, until he showed up in a fancy suit, investigating my best friend’s murder.”

The typical phrase of ‘seeing gears turning in someone’s head’ was the only way you would describe what you were seeing displayed on Finn’s face right now, just before the realization hit him.

“Wait, your father’s one of the hot FBI agents?”

You pursed your lips and nodded.

Finn blinked in disbelief.

“Wow,” He breathed out.

“Yup.” You said, popping the ‘p’. “Just got a lot less hot, huh?”

Finn raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. “For my own safety, I’m really not gonna answer that.”

You let out a laugh and playfully shoved him with your shoulder.

“Idiot.”

Finn grinned. “You love me.”

You hummed. “You’re right, I really do.”

A long while later, the door closed behind you again with a click.

Finn had to promise you to get in touch with you if he felt the need to, and to at least try and keep his room in order. After a brief conversation of how his view of himself and his ‘need to call you’ was very different from yours, you had hugged him and decided to leave.

Before you had walked out, your hand had rested on the handle, and you had turned around to Finn, not quite looking him in the eye.

“You know I love you too, right?” You had said. “No matter what happens.”

Finn frowned, but if he got suspicious, he didn’t mention it. “I know. Same here.”

You swallowed and nodded.

Then you left the room.

Now you were standing outside of his door, gaze drifting into the distance, and the same weight that had been lifted off your shoulders replaced by another one, just as heavy.

Funny, how, even if indirectly, saying your Goodbyes, made the lingering presence of death looming over you like a dark shadow much more real. If only one thing went wrong tonight, then-

You shook your head at the thought. No, Sam and Dean were going to take care of it, they promised. You had to put their trust into them with this.

But if tonight really was it, then you were content with the feeling that the last conversation you had, had been with Finnegan Beckett.

The walk back to your room stretched longer than usual.

Sooner than you would like it to, the sun disappeared behind the hills and night reigned over the land.

Sam and Dean were standing in your room, rehearsing their – honestly, pretty vague – plan with you, making sure you knew exactly how everything would go down. To be fair, you didn’t really play a big part in the whole thing, but it was nice having some sort of reassurance.

“Alright, so you know what to do?” Sam questioned once again.

Slowly, you nodded your head. “Lay still and look pretty,” you joked. “And try not to get killed.”

“Leave that last part to us,” said Dean. “You don’t have to worry about anything. By the time you wake up, everything will be over.”

You nodded.

You had seen it in Dean’s eyes, that he wasn’t all in with the idea of using you as bait, but you had done it nevertheless.

You weren’t a little child anymore, especially not his, he wasn’t going to decide what you wanted or not wanted to risk.

You took a deep breath that lifted your shoulders and huffed it back out. You were going to do this. It was easy.

—

Like hell it was.

Whoever told you you had the easiest part of the plan had been fucking lying to you. Turns out, sleeping is way harder with the knowledge of probable death hanging over your head like a dark cloud.

Every time your eyes slipped closed, a glimpse of doubt squeezed its way into your mind. What if Sam and Dean didn’t make it? What if everything went wrong? What if, in the end, you did die?

The sheets were already pooling crumbled by your feet when you slipped out of consciousness.

The mass of hot bodies pressing together and towering over you was clamming. A figure was running away from you, you were chasing after it. You smelt old leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted. You wanted more of it.

Gravel clattered underneath your boots as you got out of the car on your own, like all the big girls would.

“Look, Daddy!” But Daddy wasn’t there.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” There she was again, the nice girl with the black hair. She held out her hand and you went to grab it, her warm presence looming you in, and then the floor opened up under your feet and you were falling into nothingness.

Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, as you startled awake in your bed, feeling your lungs tighten up and making it hard to breathe.

Your panicked gaze flew to the door of your room – wide open, the light of the hall casting a dim shadow into the room.

“Wha- Sam! Dean!” Hastily, you pulled the covers off your body and hurried out the door. Something must have gone wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

You followed the sound of footsteps and scuffle down the hallway, turned the lights on where it had gone off at a few junctions.

Your breathing was still shallow, but you pushed through that and your still dazing mind, adrenaline pumping through your veins with every step you took.

Rapidly turning around another corner, you almost stumbled over the long legs of Sam’s body on the floor. You came to an abrupt halt and kneeled worried next to him.

“Sam? Oh my God, are you-“

Sam groaned and moved his head, eyes still pressed shut. “’s strong,” he babbled, and you tried your hardest to understand what he was saying.

By the way he was slurring his words, you had well reason to think he had suffered a concussion.

“It’s alright, stay here,” you ordered him, as he tried to sit up.

Only then, you first noticed the struggling noises a few feet away from you, and lifted your eyes away from Sam to check where they were coming from.

What you saw almost made your heart drop into your stomach.

Not that far away from you, maybe a few armlengths, was Dean, laying on the floor on his back just like his brother. But he was wrestling with something sitting on his chest, something small and hairy, hunchbacked like an old witch but only with the size of a cat.

The thing, which had to be the Alp, had long, bony limbs, and was fighting tooth and nail, hissing, biting and scratching, against Dean.

It reminded you of a gremlin, of sorts.

In your head, you heard Roy’s voice scold you, “There’s a distinct difference between all supernatural creatures. Elves don’t equal fairies, and gremlins don’t equal goblins, because while gremlins are fuzzy and cute in the beginning and only bad later when they turn, goblins have always been known for harassing humans.”

Alright, so no gremlin then.

Near you, Dean was still rolling around on the floor, fighting for the upper hand with the Alp.

Your heart sped up as you realized that something had to be wrong. Because why wasn’t he just killing it?

“So how do you kill it?”

Sam pulled something out of his duffel bag and turned it in his hands, the dim light of your lamp reflecting on the material. “Silver dagger dipped in vampire blood.” He spoke.

“Wait – vampires bleed?”

Dean scoffed. “This isn’t Twilight, kiddo. Yes, vampires bleed.”

You shrugged and inspected the phial he had laid into your hand. “I was thinking more of Fear Street, but alright.”

Dean ignored that he didn’t know what that was, but made a mental note to look it up later.

Sam stuffed the dagger back into his arsenal.

“You don’t have to worry about that part, though,” He assured you. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Dean nodded. “He’s right. You just dream sweet, and we’ll handle the rest. Fool-proof.”

You nodded, passing Dean the blood back. You could only hope they were right.

The shining silver of the dagger caught your eye. It had most likely been scattered away from Dean and landed near a wall, far out of his reach.

You took quick steps over to pick it up, Dean’s struggling grunts making you alert, and probably the reason why you didn’t think about what you did next, you just did it.

The silver dagger felt light in your hands, coated in the dark fluid of what had to be vampire blood. The blade reflected the clinical white light from the hallway as you lifted it up over your head, and, using the strength of both your hands, pushed it with force into the monster’s upper torso.

The squelching sound it made, as it penetrated bristly fur, skin, and organs, would later make you feel repulsed and gagging, sort of like nails scratching on a blackboard, but in this moment, you just clenched the dagger tighter and pushed it further into the monster’s chest.

The screech it let out could not be compared to any animalistic sounds you had ever heard before. In a swift move, you pulled the weapon out of the Alp’s body, and the small creature slumped to the floor right next to Dean.

You waited for a second. Two, three panting breaths. Dean was the first to move. He put a hand somewhere where the thing’s neck should be.

Then, swallowing in-between his hard breaths, he nodded. “Done,” was all he said. But it was enough for a sigh of relief to leave your tired lungs, and you sunk to the ground right next to him.

Looking closer at its lifeless body, the Alp had more similarity with one of those dead, stuffed animals that hunters hung in their houses as trophies. But maybe that was just rigor mortis.

Through your haze, you barely registered Dean clapping a firm hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him, eyes suddenly feeling heavy as the adrenaline was wearing off. Like sucking air out of a balloon.

“You did good today, kid.” He said, and though you were tired, in his eyes you could see that he meant it. It filled your chest with a warmth that hadn’t been at home in there since … God knows when, and it made you smile.

Near you, Sam staggered closer, still holding his hurting ribs, and tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at the lifeless Alp before you.

“Is it just me or does it … look like a cat?”

You and Dean both looked over at him, and then at the dead monster on the floor.

“Looks more like a gremlin-goblin hybrid,” You panted. “A gromblin.”

Sam threw you a look of pure confusion, while Dean was grinning proudly. You smiled back. It felt honest.

And very likely, it was.

-- It was quiet again.

From the fight and struggles a few days ago was no trace left, as you stood by your desk and sorted through some old photographs you had replaced on your wall.

The pictures you were sorting through mostly showed you, Finn, Roy and Cass together.

At school, at the movies, going out to eat.

You sighed and plucked some tape from the back of another one.

Right at that moment, a knock sounded from your door. Without even looking up from Cass and Roy smiling at you, holding a stray cat, you let out a “Come in,” at the person on the other side of the door.

The familiar sound of the hinges creaking signified the opening and closing of the door. And then, Dean Winchester was standing in your room.

“Uhm …” He was rubbing his neck awkwardly, as you looked at him expectantly.

“Hey. What’s up?” You asked, and put the photographs in a drawer.

Dean took a deep breath and looked at you. He wasn’t wearing the same casual clothes as he had been that terrible night, but had settled on his FBI suit again. Maybe for effect.

“Look, I was just-“ Dean fumbled for a second and then took a seat on the small chair that was standing around. “We should talk. This time for real.”

You tilted your head, and avoided looking at him.

Dean didn’t wait for any response, he simply kept talking. Maye rambling.

“I know I already tried, but it wasn’t my best, so I …” He sighed.

“I never explained anything to you. why things went down how they did. Y/N, please look at me.”

You had sat down in your deskchair, pulling your legs to your chest and now did your best to fix your eyes on Dean.

“What we do, the hunting … it’s no way to grow up for a child. I know how that is. And I never, ever, wanted that for you. I already had plans to end things sooner than they did, but then ..” He shook his head. “Didn’t work out. So, when Bobby died, I saw no other chance than to get you somewhere else. And I took that chance to just … remove you from my life, as hard as it was.”

“But I promise you, Y/N, it was all just to keep you safe. I never would’ve done it if there had been another way. And I wanted you to know that.”

Dean stood on his feet again and placed the chair back on its original spot. You looked away as he reached for the door handle, to get out of your life, again.

“So you’re just gonna leave? Again?” Your words were accusing and they were meant to be that way, but still you almost felt bad, as Dean dropped his hand by his side and let out a sigh.

“Like I said, it was for the best. Still is, in my opinion.”

“What, to remove me from your life again?” You jumped out of your chair, fury burning in your eyes and voice growing louder with every word you spoke.

“Y/N, you don’t get it-“

“No, you don’t get it!” You jelled at him. What was burning in your eyes were now more tears than anger, but it didn’t matter.

“For years, I’ve been trying to … to figure out what I did wrong. For years, I’ve been trying to do better, every day, I wanted to be better, because I thought —. I thought that if I had good grades, and if I started working out, and if I was always on my best behavior … I thought that you would come and get me. But somehow you never did. And I just … I don’t understand, I want you to tell me, what did I do wrong, what made you leave, because I swear, I’ll change. I’ll change, and I’ll work on it, just please…” A begging undertone accompanied your tear-choked words. “Don’t leave me here again.”

Wordlessly, Dean quickly crossed the room and put his arms around you. it took you a second to realize what was even happening, before you clung to his suit jacket, digging all your strength into it, as if the fabric was the only think that kept you from drowning in black water.

You felt the shadow of warmth, as Dean turned his head to press a featherlight kiss into your hair.

“I regret having to leave you.” He murmured next to your ear. “But what I do not regret is keeping you safe. Even if that meant leaving you.”

You sniffled, and pulled away from him. Dean’s own face wasn’t full of fresh tear stains, but still you could see the sincerity and something like sadness on his features.

You wiped your cheeks to clean them off the drying liquids.

“I’m older now,” You said, and Dean scoffed, already knowing where this was headed. “No, please, listen to me! I’m older, I can make my own choices, take my own risks. You saw how great I was a few days ago!”

“Yes, but that was one monster!” Dean countered. “Out there, there are hundreds of those things. We don’t get enough sleep, no nice food, not even nice beds! Trust me, Y/N, compared to this-“ he gestured around your room, “what we do has nothing on it.”

You shook your head. “But you’re together when you do it. You and Sam. And I just want that, I want to be with you.”

Dean sighed and took a step back.

“Please, Dean, I’m begging you!” You urged. “You said you never wanted to come back here, but now you had to, I mean – don’t you think that’s some sort of … sign or something?”

“I don’t believe in signs.”

“Well, screw signs, I’m here!” You pointed to yourself. Your voice was desperate, but so were you.

“I am here, and I want you to take me with you.” And in a whisper, you repeated, “Please, Dean, this time – let me come with you.”

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, Dean heavily sighed and pulled the chair closer to him to sit down.

The church bells were tolling a loud, fast tune. It was ironic, you thought, and you didn’t know if you should cry or laugh about it.

You watched as two dark caskets were lowered down into the earth, into two separate 6-feet deep holes right next to each other.

The gravestones had not yet been prepared, but you didn’t exactly need those anyway. If the huge pictures were any indicator on who was getting buried here.

This was your last time saying Goodbye. To Cass and to Roy, and, unfortunately, to the last one remaining.

Funerals weren’t for the dead, you had once read somewhere, they were for the living, for those seeking closure in their desperate times of grief.

You had thought it to be bullshit, what difference would a burial make in a journey of overcoming the loss of someone so important?

But, as you threw a full hand of dark earth onto each of the dark caskets, you somehow understood. It was one weight less.

They were still here, some part of them. Something you could always come back to, they hadn’t just vanished off the back off the earth. That thought was, indeed, comforting.

Damn life lessons that are right.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard a voice next to you, and were a bit surprised to see Finn standing there.

You had been too lost in your own thoughts to even notice him approaching. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help your attention skills much, either.

“Hey,” you answered.

“Look, I need to tell you something,” you started, just at the same time as Finn said, “I know what you wanna say.”

Both of you let out quiet laughs.

“You first,” He said.

You took a deep breath and avoided looking at him, scanning the gravestones before you as if you had known everyone buried under them personally.

“Sam and Dean,” you started, “I mean, they’ve been here for a while and honestly, I never even thought I’d see them again. So I never really thought about what would happen if they would just – show up, you know?”

Interesting, Peter Gravill only lived to be 57 years old.

“But now they’re here, and I just-“

“I get it.” Finn suddenly interrupted you. Your head whirled around so fast you were afraid you were gonna get whiplash.

At your confused look, he added, “I mean, if my parents suddenly showed up on my doorstep and gave me the option of going with them –“ he shrugged his shoulders. “-I would most definitely take it.”

Before you could even think about it, you already lunged forwards and wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face in his neck and holding him tightly.

The hot feeling of tears burned behind your eyes, but you managed to put them away. You pulled Finn even closer.

“Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”

“You’re still younger than me.”

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

The hug lasted endless, but endless went by way too quickly. You fixed Finn’s suit jacket, apologized for the tear- and make-up stains you had gotten on the expensive material, and waved him a last Goodbye.

Down by the parking lot, a black car was already waiting for you, two adult men leaning against it. They had been watching the entire thing go down from a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in either the funeral, or the emotional Goodbyes.

Sam tried not to think about what laid ahead of them, or behind them, as his niece walked towards them, away from the graves of her best friends, and leaving the only one that was still alive, behind.

His niece. How long hadn’t he said that title, let alone thought it.

He liked the familiarity of it. The rightness.

Dean opened a creaking car door for you, as you reached them.

“You ready?” He asked.

Sam could see your shoulders tighten, as you lifted your chin, and looked his brother straight in the eye.

“Yeah.”

Dean nodded, and you got in the backseat. He slammed the car door closed behind you. With one last look at his younger brother, Dean rounded Baby and took his place as the driver, Sam claiming shotgun.

Behind them, you leaned your head against the window as the engine roared and you drove off.

The car smelt like leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted.

And in the backseat of an old 1967 Chevy Impala, listening to the music that was a mix of Metallica, Kansas and Billy Joel, you slept the best night’s sleep you had had in weeks.

taglist:

@psycho-magnotheric-slime , @openmindedperson2200 , @emily-roberts

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mishapocalyse · 2 years ago

Note

hi ♡ can i request Soldier Boy finding out that female!reader had his child? he met her in The Boys and then suddenly she disappears but they reunite again later...

Dream On//The Little Hands That Lead You To Me

Description: Soldier Boy finds out he has a child when he returns years later after being reawakened by The Boys for one last mission.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader x Child!

Warnings: None; Soldier Boy is his own warning.

Note: Short little drabble to pass the time. Yes, I know the gif is from Big Sky, let me use the damn gifs, please.

Dreams were always beyond reach.

And you had always plagued his dreams when he had rested his head at night.

When you and America's First Hero had met, it was a daring time where he had saved you from almost being slaughtered by the TNT Twins at the C-Lister's Herogasm Festival. The Boys had forgotten you were their mole, until Hughie immediately recognized you.

Soldier Boy dragged you out of the rubble, staying by your side until you awakened.

The two of you ran around for awhile alongside the Boys to try and take down Homelander. He had also taken you to dinner--well it was the other way around, but he paid for it every time.

Nothing ever lasts long.

The last time you and him were together was when you both shared the night of your lives. The night before he would face Homelander and take him down once and for all. Not many men could ever make you feel the way you did when you were underneath the man of steel and radiation. Instead of hard, hot and heavy, the mere intimate, sweet and sensual lovemaking--his hands intertwined with yours, forehead pressed against yours as the two of you had managed to get to your highest of highs. It was a night to remember.

When dawn broke through the curtains, Soldier Boy, Ben, had found you were gone. Disappeared into the early break of day. He had opened the closet to find your belongings gone.

The car? Gone.

You had left him, and through that time you both had spent, he swore to himself he would see you again.

----

Soldier Boy had been reawakened years later to live a possibly normal life without anyone nor anything bound to him. However, it was not that easy.

He still had not found you.

Every place he knew you would be, you were wiped from the map. As if you never existed.

That is, until he stepped into a little family owned diner in Knoxville, Tennessee.

He tipped his hat to the cashier, as he took a booth at the back. A group of people were seated at a table laughing and carrying on.

Something he missed.

He heard the sweet laughter, and raised his head as his eyes widened.

You had stood there, in a sundress patterned with sunflowers, and in your arms was a child no older than four.

That looked like him.

Your gaze moved from the people at the table and stopped on you as your eyes widened with his. You excused yourself and Y/C/N as the two of you moved towards Soldier Boy, Ben nowadays.

"Been a long time." You quietly said to him.

His eyes moved to Y/C as your kid wanted to be put down.

"Mommy?" Your child questions.

"Yeah, baby?" You replied, ruffling their hair.

"Daddy?" You watched as they pointed to Ben, who still wanted answers.

"Yes." Ben opened his arms and invited the young child in. He stood and scooped you in as well. Your family watching from the table just as confused as you were.

In the end you were just as happy as well.

"I'm so sorry Ben. For leaving-"

"Don't. Doesn't matter now. All I got is you--you and.." He trailed off, he could feel the sting of tears hit his eyes.

"I got nowhere to be anytime soon Ben. I left that life." You said, taking in his scent and warmth.

"As did I." Ben added.

The two of you looked at each other before he dipped down to take in your lips. Your child vocally expressing his disdain for both of your public displays of affection. Ben chuckled deeply, the two of you parting to have Ben lean his forehead against yours once more.

"I'm not dreaming. This is real." He muttered.

"Well, I hope so." You answered.

"Are you two finished? I wanna meet that tall drink of water you have there!" Called your mother, as the rest of your family had begun to laugh.

Your cheeks redden while you looked up at Ben who smiled.

"I promise to be nice." He grinned.

"Good, because it'll answer so many of their questions." You giggled, as he kissed you again.

"Hope so." Ben places his hand against the small of your back. The other taking a hold of your child's hand.

The three of you all seated yourselves at the table, Ben's hand over yours, while your child sat on his lap, tugging at fur lining his jean jacket. Ben smiled at you with a small wink, taking off the cowboy hat and placing it on your child's head. You sighed, your grip on his hand tightening.

"So this is the man you were telling us about. Nice of you to stop by finally. When are you two going to get married?" Your mother questions as Ben tilts his head to look at the much older woman sitting at the end of the table.

"I got some big plans. Don't worry. All in due time ma'am. All in due time."

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy the boys #jensen ankles #jensen ackles #the boys soldier boy #soldier boy is his own warning #soldier boy x reader x child #the boys season 3

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writingsonsaturn · 8 months ago

Text

| writingsonsaturn’s milky way |

hiii !!

requests are: OPEN

masterlist || characters i write for || my do’s and do not’s

all nsfw content is marked as 18+ please do not interact with nsfw content if you are a minor.

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thebiggerbear · 2 months ago

Text

where is she?

Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.

Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)

Word Count: 1019

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria; @believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch; @bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz; @kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae

You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”

“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan.

“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.

When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.

“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.

Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again.

“Ben!” You called.

Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.

When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”

America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“It could all be ours, you know.”

“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”

Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.

When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.

“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.

Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest.

“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”

Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”

Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.

Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”

Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.

He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.

A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”

A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.”

When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

Main Masterlist

Main Tag List Submission Form

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #thebiggerbear writes #where is she?

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months ago

Text

A Place To Call Home: Redux

Summary: In this special part of APTCH, we're going way back. What if things went differently? What if the reader was removed from the Ackles home after only a few months? What if she blamed them for letting her go? What if she found out the truth about her birth parents from the start? What exactly would that do to this father/daughter duo's bond and would it be able to be salvaged? Find out in this special AU from the main APTCH timeline!

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 16,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of prior abuse (not descriptive), family drama, all the tears

A/N: When I wanted to return to the APTCH world, I've always had this idea of what if the reader hadn't known the full truth about her parents accident? What if she'd been forced to leave? This is strictly a one-off AU part where I got to explore the answers to those questions and see new sides to everyone.

This part takes place during Part 4 of APTCH. This part starts with some text from that italicized before divulging into the story. I can't wait to hear your thoughts! Please enjoy!

__________

Two Months Later

“Y/N?” asked Zeppelin. You lifted your head up from where you were laying in the grass in the backyard, staring up at the sky. “Cole’s here.”

You looked past him, seeing Cole walk down the slope of the yard with Jensen, Danneel playing with the girls, a nervous look on her face.

“Go back to mommy, Zepp,” you said, Zepp running past Cole and Jensen, Jensen’s face hard. You saw another set of people walk down the yard, a police officer and a woman from Cole’s office you recognized. You instantly stood up, Jensen staring at the ground when he and Cole stopped in front of you. “Cole, why are you here? With them?”

“You know why,” he said.

“Look at me,” you barked at Jensen, his head whipping up. “Did you-”

“No. Kiddo, no. We got a call this morning that said we failed our last check in,” said Jensen. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not leaving,” you said, Cole sighing. “You’re going to have to drag me out of here.”

“I don’t agree with the failed check in. They’ve done nothing wrong and you’re like a different person, Y/N. I petitioned for you to stay. But their foster parent privileges are going to be revoked,” said Cole.

“I want to see the failed check in. I can request to see my file. I know I can,” you said.

“Inappropriate relationship with a foster child was cited as a cause,” said Cole.

“Who had final sign off?” you said. “I sure as shit know you know neither one of them are inappropriate with me.”

“I signed off,” said the woman as she walked over, Jensen shooting her a quick glare. “This publicity stunt for the Ackles is over. It was tolerated but there is evidence of Jensen becoming too physically close.”

“Excuse me?” you said.

“His recent postings on Instagram show you two in a suggestive position,” she said. “When you were seated on his lap.”

“Excuse me?” you said again. “I was holding Zepp in my lap too. It wasn’t inappropriate. Cole, do something.”

He took your arm and pulled you aside, letting out a sigh. “Y/N. I know it wasn’t. Anyone with half a brain can see that but Mrs. Keller has the power to move any foster and she wants you moved. I promise I’ll do what I can to get you back here as soon as I can. I-”

You stared over at where Danneel sat with the kids, eyes on you, gaze shifting to where Jensen was arguing with Mrs. Keller.

“Did they give me up Cole?” you asked quietly. “Did the Ackles-”

“No. At least not that I know of. But Mrs. Keller is saying they failed a check-in.”

“They’re going to lose their license to foster,” you said. He nodded. “But they have money. They can fight it if they want-”

“Sweetie, you’ll turn eighteen before it was settled legally. The state will fight back and it’ll get drawn out. I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re probably better off…sticking it out in whatever home you get placed in and when you’re eighteen, you could come back here-”

“Assuming they actually wanted me. They have so much money, Cole. If they really wanted me…they wouldn’t let me go,” you whispered. “How do you know they didn’t turn me in behind your back? How do you know?”

Cole was quiet, closing his eyes.

“See? You don’t know for sure. I bet they didn’t fail a check-in. It’s just their way of getting rid of me and saving face.” You glared at Jensen when he turned his head in your direction. “If you didn’t want me, at least have the balls to say it to my face!”

Cole sighed as you stormed inside the house. Fuck those people. Fuck Jensen especially. He was so full of shit. You knew, you knew, this whole thing was a sham from the start. All he ever wanted was to show what a wonderful person he was to the world and once that was done, he was dumping your ass.

You slammed your bedroom door shut, locking it behind you. He was going to come in there and try to bullshit you some more. Him or Dee. But you weren’t falling for it again. No, you were packing up your shit and getting the fuck out of there for good.

Jensen was standing there when you ripped open the door five minutes later but you simply shoved past him for the bathroom. “Y/N-”

“Don’t say a fucking word to me,” you snapped. You swept the few products you had into a small bag, hoping it would hold you over for awhile. Quickly, you got it inside your duffel bag, Jensen reaching out for you when you stepped into the hallway. He was smart enough to pull his hand back though before he could touch you. “Move.”

“We didn’t do this,” he said, a harsh edge to his voice. “Y/N, I swear to god we want you to stay. This is killing me.”

“I never should have trusted you,” you said, pushing on his shoulder, Jensen closing his eyes. “I-I trusted you. I thought you cared about me. I thought you might have actually wanted to be my…I knew you were just acting. I fucking knew I was a pawn for you in your fancy little life. I can’t believe I fell for it.”

“That is not true and deep down you know it,” he said. You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. “Y/N, Y/N stop-”

“You’re not my foster dad anymore. I don’t have to do a thing you say,” you called back.

“You are my daughter.” You stopped in your tracks, looking over your shoulder. His jaw was clenched, eyes full of worry. “And I’m your dad. I will bring you back home, understand me? We will find a way to get you back home to your family, no matter how long it takes.”

“I’m eighteen in nine months, Jensen. I’m getting the fuck out of this shitty system the moment I can and when I do? You come near me again and I’ll call the cops on you myself. Am I clear?” He shook his head, getting closer.

“We’ll earn it back,” he said, lifting his chin. “I’ll earn it back. Your trust. Your love because I know you loved us and just couldn’t say it. So we’ll start from scratch, less than scratch if we have to. Hate me and hate Dee. Do what you need to these next nine months to survive because I know you can do it. I fucking know you can. The second you are out of this system that keeps hurting you, I will be there and I will bring you home, understand? I will call you, text you, facetime you everyday. We are not through, okay? We-”

You ripped your phone from your pocket, tossing it on the ground, watching the screen shatter. You shook your head, adjusting the strap on your shoulder.

“No more lies, Jensen. Stay the hell away from me.”

“At least say goodbye to the kids,” he said when you started to walk for the front door. “Y/N!”

“They’ll be fine. Better to learn young how much the world sucks.”

“Y/N-”

You flipped him the bird as you left, finding Cole leaning against the hood of his car. “So where the hell am I staying tonight?”

“They deserve a proper goodbye,” he said, nodding around to the backyard.

“The twins will forget I exist in six months and JJ will too in a few years. Let’s go,” you said, opening his backseat and tossing your duffel inside. Cole gave you that look, his disappointed one you so rarely saw from him, before you got in the passenger seat.

“The Ackles are good people. I’ll find out-”

“Cole. Please just stop,” you said, leaning your head against the glass. You jerked it upright when you saw Jensen and Danneel step outside the front door, looking like deer caught in headlights. “Take me to house fifteen.”

“Y/N-”

“Get me away from here. Now.”

The Next Day

“Hey,” said Cole as you leaned against the post of the car port at the new foster home. “How’s it going so far?”

You gave him your best bitch face, Cole nodding. “It’s fine.”

“Be careful of this guy. I’ve heard rumors of physical abuse but no proof and no kid would ever say anything. Lock the door at night or better yet, push the dresser in front of it.” You looked past him to the crappy house across the street. “I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious about getting emancipated.”

“This shit again? You do not have a job, Y/N-”

“I got my working papers from my new high school earlier. There’s no other kids here for me to look out for so when i’m not in school, I’ll be working.” He sighed. “Cole-”

“You can’t access your parents assets until you’re older. If…if you could, maybe we could make it work but-”

“Then get me access,” you growled. He narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger in your face.

“I fucking tried,” he said. “Do not treat me like the bad guy, Y/N. I have always tried to get you into good homes with good people and I really, really looked into emancipation for you. But you are a ward of the state and the state won’t admit they’re a shitty parent no matter how true it is.”

You crossed your arms, lips pursed. “Then line up the paperwork so that the day I turn eighteen, I’m out of the system.”

“This guy will kick you out of the house the second you age out. You’ll be homeless if you choose to leave.”

“Well that’s my problem, isn’t it? I’ll spend from now until then working my ass off and saving up. I’ll only have five months of high school left after that. I can bounce around shelters until I graduate-”

“Are you listening to yourself?” scoffed Cole. “I am not letting you be homeless.”

You rolled your eyes, Cole stepping closer.

“Your stubbornness made you a survivor and some days I am grateful for it because I know there’s shit that happened to you that you won’t even admit to me. I know you could do it all on your own if you had to. But I haven’t worked my ass off since you were ten fucking years old for you to give up.”

“I am not giving up. I’m growing up. I’m turning eighteen and getting the fuck out of this fucked up town and maybe I’ll find some people with a shred of decency. You never fucking did,” you balked. You walked away, putting your back to him. You heard him behind you, felt him stop close by as you scrunched up your face.

“That family loves you. I have had fosters get adopted by families before and see those connections. Well, I have some news for you. Jensen and Danneel? Kid, they are the best kind of person for you. You are not their foster daughter to them. You are not the potential adoptee. You are not the girl with different parents. You were not made by them but you are theirs and they love you as if you were their blood.”

“It’s a fucking act, Cole. Don’t you fall for it-” you said, spinning around, cutting yourself off when he handed you a dark green iphone.

“I could lose my job for this,” he said, shoving it into your hands. “You don’t have to speak to them but they want…they need you to know that you can always call on them and they will come. When you turn eighteen, they’ll be here if that’s what you decide.”

“Cole.” He shook his head. “They threw me away!”

“I don’t know what happened but I’d bet my fucking life they had nothing to do with this. When I checked on them this morning, they begged me to get their daughter back. Begged, Y/N. You want to grow up? Then trust your heart for once. They will come back for you if you let them. Give them a chance to.”

You frowned, Cole giving you one.

“Do you need anything?” he asked. You shook your head, kicking your foot against the ground. “Stay safe, kiddo. Put in one of those anonymous calls you like to do if this guy tries anything.”

“Anyone ever tell you how annoying you are?” you called as he headed for the inside of the house.

“Give them a chance, kiddo.”

You laid in bed that night, your new phone vibrating from where you hid it under your pillow from your new foster dad, aka Mac, aka the asshole. You’d been at two other homes before with a single dad and neither had been good. They’d done it just for the extra money and you’d never felt comfortable at either. But back then you were much younger, only a kid and a pre-teen and there’d been other kids around.

Now it was a seventeen year old you alone with a sketchy at best guy in his late forties. You glanced at the chair you’d propped under the door handle, sighing. You’d gotten too used to not being cautious with the Ackles. You were going to need to make sure you spent as little time as possible in this house.

You grabbed the phone, pouting at the text that came up.

Jensen: I know you hate me and Dee. We’re fighting this failed check in bullshit but the lawyer was honest with us. There’s no guarantee we win the appeal. But no matter what, we’ll be there when you need us, whether we’re your foster parents or not. We’re not supposed to contact you but we need you to know you’re not alone. We are here for you everyday. We are going to do everything we can to bring you home as soon as we can. No matter what happens, the second you’re eighteen, I’ll be there to get you. I understand if you don’t want to answer me. Be safe. We love you, tall munchkin.

“No you fucking don’t,” you mumbled, turning the phone off before hiding it again. “Please just leave me alone.”

Three Months Later

“Hey Andrea?” you asked on a late Friday afternoon. Your boss from the restaurant and bar you worked at grunted from her back office. “I finish up with school next Tuesday and was wondering if I could get more hours for the summer?”

“More hours?” she asked, lifting her head up. “Don’t you have another job?”

“Yeah but I like this job better,” you said, giving her a friendly smile.

“You like this job better because I pay you under the table.”

“It works for me, it works for you…come on, you know I’m a good server,” you said. She frowned but sighed.

“I can bump you up to twenty five hours but that’s it.” You grinned, Andrea rolling her eyes. “Go grab some lunch and get out of here.”

“You’re the best,” you said on your way out. After bringing out a bag of trash to the dumpster, you washed up and got the chef to whip you up an extra large chicken wrap with a side of mac and cheese. You got a free meal for each shift and it’d helped immensely considering how Mac hardly ever kept any food in the house. Almost all his meals came from take out or going out with his friends. Between your two restaurant jobs thankfully you were able to not be hungry most days.

You packed up the food in a container and walked a few blocks down to a park, finding your usual bench before digging in.

“Y/N!” You jumped in your seat, spilling your late lunch on the ground. You growled as a figure appeared before you. You glared up at a sweaty Jensen, his face red as he put his hands on his hips. “I missed you at work and tried to catch up but I couldn’t find parking and never mind but I-”

“You made me drop my food,” you snapped. He looked down at your feet, a wince on his face.

“I’m sorry. We can go get something-”

“You give me twenty bucks and then get the fuck away from me or I swear I’ll start screaming.” He blinked at you, his breathing slowing down. “Jensen, I am serious.”

“I…Y/N we won the appeal. You can come home,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, his head cocking. “I know you blocked our numbers but Y/N a lot has happened. Cole’s on his way over to pick you up and take you to a private session with the district attorney and some people from the state’s office. I can’t be in the room but-”

“You just don’t stop, do you?” you scoffed, standing. You pushed on his chest, Jensen taking a step back. “News flash, I don’t want to go anywhere with you ever again.”

“Y/N, we didn’t get rid of you,” he breathed out. “We’ve been working on getting you back home every single day.”

“Stop lying to me!” you shouted, your face scrunching up. “I’m just something for you to prop yourself up with. Look how amazing we are, taking in a poor little orphan girl. If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.”

A part of you knew you were being unreasonable but you’d been on your own for three months and you knew the only person you could rely on was yourself. Jensen hid the hurt on his face quickly, replacing it with a neutral expression.

“You can hate me. You can hate me for as long as you like. But you are coming home to us after you sort things out with Cole. We are your foster family again and someday you’ll be able to admit that you know you’re just lashing out because you’re angry. Because we will be there for you after the fact. Because we love you and care about you and deep down in places you don’t like to admit exist, you might even care about us too.”

“I will never care about you again,” you whispered. “And I will never, ever, trust you.”

Jensen stepped closer, staring you down, his jaw clenched. “I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong again.”

“Good fucking luck with that.” You sat down, crossing your arms. “You can go.”

“Once Cole gets here.” You flipped him off, Jensen taking a seat on the bench across the path, sighing as he went. “Please try to remember that I love you.”

You didn’t respond. Maybe he really did love you. Maybe you really were just angry after he let you get taken. But there was nothing he could say you wanted to hear.

You still hurt too much.

Four Hours Later

You knew people were talking around you. Lawyers. People from the state department. The head of foster care for the state. FBI agents. District attorneys and half of the local foster care office.

Cole sat by your side at the far end of the table, arguing with someone on the other side. The voices were loud, blame being passed around. Threats of lawsuits were in every other word. So many people, so many strangers shouting about your life like you weren’t even there.

You stood up, catching Cole’s attention first but slowly the others took notice, so many pairs of eyes on your numb face.

“What is it, Y/N?” Cole asked, rising to his feet beside you. You blinked slowly, scanning the room once.

“I don’t care about Mrs. Keller and that she blamed my parents for her son’s death in the car accident. I don’t care that my parents didn’t die in the accident and went into witness protection and then didn’t or whatever the fuck they did. I don’t care that they gave me up and that state, you people, are my guardian. I don’t give a shit that none of you realized or that those who did cared more about your fucking case than a ten year old girl. I don’t care that my parents never wanted me and they don’t a shit about me. I don’t care, I don’t fucking care so stop fucking yelling. Please.”

Thirty different sets of eyes stared at you, a heavy guilt settling in the air.

“I’m not a pawn in your blame games. I’m a person who’s life you fucked up. I won’t sue you. I don’t care about that shit. All I want is to go home to the Ackles. I want to stay with them and if they ever decide they want to adopt me, you’re going to approve it on the spot. No dragging it out for months or years. They get it that day. Understand?”

You saw the head of foster care nod, your eyes closing.

“If you people have nothing else to say to me, can I please go home?” There was a quiet murmur and then you felt Cole’s arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day. Let’s get you home, Y/N.”

Cole grabbed you some fast food on the way to the Ackles house, your house, but you had no appetite. You’d felt a lot of things in life but this…dejection, was something entirely new. You were so numb you couldn’t even cry.

No one in your life had ever wanted you. Not a single soul. Except for the family you’d pushed away, yelled at, been cruel to.

There was no way they’d want you after all that. Why would they? You were so fucked up, no one ever would.

“Y/N. Y/N!” shouted Cole. You blinked, his car parked in the Ackles driveway. “Jesus, are you with me?”

“I’m just tired, Cole,” you whispered. You slid out of the car, Cole grabbing your duffel from the backseat. You barely made it to the cover of the front porch before the door opened and you saw Jensen and Danneel come out.

“Hey guys,” said Cole quietly, setting your duffel on the table, your gaze drifting past them, looking out to the dark water of the river beyond. “She’s…had a long day.”

“Hey, kiddo,” said Jensen but you didn’t look at him, a cold creeping feeling settling through your bones. You knew they were exchanging looks with Cole, a heavy sigh coming from him.

“Be gentle,” you heard him murmur. “Get her back in therapy asap.”

“Are you hungry? I can make you something,” said Danneel as you stared outside. “Y/N?”

“No thank you,” you said, voice flat, picking up your duffel and taking the bag of food. “All I want to do is eat this, take a shower and go to bed.”

“Your room’s all set, honey,” said Jensen, letting you slip past him. You slowed your steps when you felt their stares on your back. But it wasn’t them that made you come to stop. No, it was the picture on the wall next to the hallway to your room that caught your attention. It’d been some professional picture before, one from when the twins were newborns and the rest of them.

Now it housed a photo you remember not feeling like you should have been part of. Jenen’s arm was around your shoulders, the other holding up Arrow. Zep was in Dee’s arms while JJ stood in front of you with a big grin. You remembered taking it at Jensen’s birthday party a few days before you’d left, trying your hardest to stay out of the family photos but he kept finding you every time you tried to run away.

And you’d thought they’d betrayed you.

You took off down the hall, closing your bedroom door quickly behind you. The room didn’t smell like cleaner yet it was which meant they were in the habit of regularly dusting it. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in there except for Dee’s blanket you’d stolen a long time ago and a hoodie of Jensen’s you’d worn a few times when it’d gotten a tad too cold out at night for you.

You sighed when you picked up the framed drawing on your desk of the family, JJ’s judging by the quality but you could see where the twins had gotten their hands on it. You had to put it down and flip it over when you saw she’d put you in it.

You pushed away the rising bile in your throat and forced yourself to eat part of the burger so there was at least something in your stomach. After chucking the leftovers in the garage, you took a long shower, a basket full of new products waiting for you on the counter.

Fucking considerate assholes. Why did you have to be such a bitch to them? They never gave you up and…

“It’ll never go back to how it was,” you whispered to yourself. You ducked your head under the water and turned it cold, trying to figure out what the hell you were supposed to do.

You were finally back home with people that wanted you. Had wanted you at least. But now? Who knew if they’d let you in all the way again?

Who knew if you’d ever forgive yourself for hurting them. Maybe you’d been the asshole all along. Maybe you were never a good kid and everyone saw it but you.

You slammed the water off and dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized shirt, throwing Jensen’s hoodie on when you were back in your room to help with the chill you’d self-inflicted. It warmed you some but a faint whiff of his cologne came off the fabric, your gut churning once more. With a sigh, you sat down on the edge of the bed, staring out your dark window. To your surprise, and you were grateful for it, no one came to talk to you. It seemed like a long time but eventually you heard Cole’s car drive off and saw the front lights dim. The house was quiet. Still.

It was after ten and you had the sense that Jensen and Danneel had retreated to the confines of their bedroom to talk about you in hushed whispers.

You tried to lay down but no matter how exhausted you were, sleep wouldn’t come. Your brain couldn’t turn off, couldn’t relax. For hours and hours the same questions kept running through your mind.

Why hadn’t your birth parents given you up for adoption when you were young? Why hadn’t they planned it better with their FBI handler? Why’d the FBI just let them go when they ran off? Why had no one put it together about Mrs. Keller’s son being killed in the accident? What was so wrong with you no one wanted you?

Were you even capable of knowing what love felt like?

You bolted out of bed, storming out of your room and down the hall. Fuck, you needed air. You went out on the back porch, standing in the dark and watching the dark waves in the distance, the scattered lights along the houses on the opposite side of the river.

“I can’t sleep either.” You didn’t turn but felt Jensen come to stand beside you, a glass of water in hand. “You get any at all tonight?”

You shook your head, Jensen offering the water to you. You slowly took it, drinking the cold liquid down in big gulps. When you handed him the glass, he set it down on the outdoor table before returning to lean his forearms against the railing.

God, he looked fucking…sad.

“S’funny.” You glanced up at his dark face, his focus on the backyard, eyes glancing up at the few bright stars poking through overhead.

“What is?” you said, a strange lack of emotion in your voice that should have concerned you but you were too tired to care. Jensen heard it though, looking you up and down.

“How cruel the world can be to a perfectly innocent kid.”

“Plenty worse could have happened to me,” you said, a frown forming on his face. His brow furrowed, eyes searching yours.

“And what exactly does that mean?” he asked, his jaw clenching. You shrugged, gaze back on a few waves that peaked up and sloshed back down. “Y/N.”

“It means in retrospect for what did happen to me, much worse things could have. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Your birth parents abandoned you in the forest during fucking bear season. They admitted-”

“Nothing happened.” He audibly growled, clenching his fists on the railing. “It’s fine.”

“No,” he said, taking you by both your arms and leaning down, face hard. “No, none of it was fine. You were hurt and abused and you will not brush this under the rug. You are not alright. My Y/N is fighter. She’s a ball of spitfire and doesn’t back down from a fight. Even on her worst days, she’s got a spark in her. Don’t lose that, tall munchkin. Don’t.”

“I’m done fighting, Jensen. I give up. I don’t care anymore. I just don’t care.”

“Care about what?” he asked quietly.

“Anything. Just get me through high school and then I’ll move to the middle of nowhere where no one will have to remember I ever exist.” He dropped his head, breathing deeply. “Jensen, it’s fine-”

“Don’t…” he trailed off, his fingertips digging into your biceps ever so slightly. He slowly raised his head, his face somber. “Honey…you may never trust me again or believe me again and I shouldn’t say this but I get it. I fucking get why you might never trust anyone to be a parent to you ever again. But Y/N, I can never forget your exist. You’re one of my reasons for living and when you talk like that you scare me. Shit, you have no idea how much it scares me to know you hurt so much and I can’t fix it. You don’t know what I’d give for that version of you at the park who hated my guts right now. She was fighting. I need you to keep fighting. Don’t give up on me yet because I sure as shit will never give up on you, even when you do.”

You glanced down, nodding a few times. You felt him straighten and clear his throat, his hands rubbing gently up and down your arms.

“You know what’s sad? You’re the first person in my life that ever loved me,” you said, gaze fixated on the tile floor beneath you. “I treat you like shit and now I don’t even know how to feel anything anymore. I don’t understand at all how someone like you could love someone like me.”

“It is sad,” he said quietly, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “You deserved better. You deserved love long before now. But I will gladly be the first person to love you. Dads are like that.”

“Jensen,” you sighed, his hand dropping to under your jaw. You glanced up, a sad smile on his face.

“I know. Like I said, Dee and I will be whatever you need us to be. Parents. Friends. We can simply be a safe place for you. But whatever you decide, you don’t get to decide what you are to me, understand?” He rubbed your arms when you just stared at him. “Okay?”

“W-What am I to you?” you whispered. He tilted his head, sighing softly.

“Oh, you know, baby girl.” He pulled you into a hug, a tight embrace where you found yourself burrowing into his chest, clinging to his t-shirt. “I know it hurts and it’s so much easier not to feel it. I know. But I’m here. Mom’s here. You don’t have to face it alone. You’ll never be alone again.”

“I can’t…” you mumbled, breathing deeply, large hands holding you close. “You don’t understand how this feels. No one wants me. No one. It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, I just…I can’t believe you Jensen. It’ll kill me when you hurt me too.”

“What’s my job?” he whispered before kissing the top of your head. “What’d I tell you on that freezing cold road back in December in the rain? What’d I tell you my job is?”

You squeezed his shirt so hard you felt it straining, his hand running up and down your back. “Come on, kiddo. What’s my job?”

“Protect,” you whispered.

“That’s right,” he said, letting out a heavy sigh. “I haven’t done a very good job of that so far but it is my job. That’s what dads do. So let me do my job and you…you be as brave and strong as I know you are and give me a chance. Give me a chance to prove I love you, to know you are loved by this whole family and that…that…”

You glanced up, his face scrunched up, eyes opening as he sensed your gaze. He tucked your hair behind your ear, shoulders sagging.

“That what, Jensen?” you asked. He looked over your head, a sad little smile growing on his face.

“That I didn’t betray you. That every day you have been gone has been the darkest moment of my life. I need my daughter back.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. I’m sorry,” you said. You slipped past him, feeling his gaze on your back. You swallowed, looking down. “I just don’t know if I can ever care about you again. Please don’t hate me for that.”

“I could never hate you, tall munchkin.” You felt a hand on your back, your head lifting but you didn’t turn. “All I’m asking for is one more chance. I’m asking you to try one more time for me. Try to give us a chance.”

“I’m sorry, Jensen. I don’t think I can.”

You went inside before he could say a word but you felt his response when he dropped his hand.

You were breaking his heart. And the worst part, the scary part, was you felt nothing about doing so.

Twelve Hours Later

“I’m sorry, what was that word?” asked Danneel. You picked at a stray thread on a pillow in the family room. You didn’t completely understand why you were having this “emergency” session or whatever it was at home but you guessed it had something to do with that it was Sunday and just about every adult in your life was staring at you like you had three heads.

“It’s called Alexithymia. It’s a condition that can happen for a variety of reasons. In Y/N’s case, PTSD is causing it,” said your therapist. You’d spent the better part of the morning getting reacquainted with him on your own, with Dee, Jensen, all three of you together. You’d barely gotten more than two hours of sleep and honestly couldn’t give a crap about anything this guy said.

“But Y/N was diagnosed with PTSD before and didn't have this condition,” said Jensen. That peaked your attention, your finger raising. Jensen and Danneel shared a look from the far end of the couch, your therapist sighing.

“I don’t have PTSD, thank you very much.” Jensen scoffed. “If I had it, you would have had to tell me, dumbass.”

“It was not an official diagnosis previously but that’s irrelevant,” said the therapist. “The trauma Y/N endured last night and during the period she was removed from your home, even the removal from your home triggered-“

“It wasn’t fucking trauma and I wasn’t fucking triggered,” you snapped. “I am tired. I am just fucking tired from working so much and dealing with so much bullshit. I had two hours of sleep last night so of course I’m having a bad day. On a normal day, I’m fine.”

“What is this condition?” asked Dee, ignoring you. You rolled your eyes and would have simply left the room if not for Cole standing near the exit like a damn security guard. Apparently you weren’t being reasonable enough for them when you told them to take their therapist visit and shove it up their asses.

“It’s when someone has a hard time understanding the emotions they’re feeling or rather feeling or displaying an emotion at all. In Y/N’s case, based on what I’ve seen this morning, she’s primarily having a difficult time feeling her emotions.”

You flipped him off. “Does it feel like I’m having a hard time understanding my emotions?”

“Do I look like a fucking idiot?” His comment was strange for him. He never swore and was always level headed. “That’s a perfect example. Y/N knows I don’t swear yet there was zero emotion on her face whereas the rest of you were hiding your reactions. Y/N is a very smart girl who is very afraid of getting labeled with something because deep down she fears it makes her unlovable. And that we know for a fact from our previous sessions.”

You crossed your arms and sat back, glancing out the window, trying to calm down. Jensen cleared his throat. “So, uh, what does all this mean exactly?”

“It means you could put a puppy in front of her and she will react the same way as if you set the house on fire. She’s in pain, pain at a very fundamental level of her core. Her head right now is saying it can’t take more pain. It can’t deal with the pain,” said the therapist. “So her brain tells her I can keep you safe from the pain if you just don’t feel. You don’t have to feel those awful feelings if you don’t feel anything at all.”

“Yeah, cause that sounds like a normal reaction to have,” you mumbled. You turned towards Jensen and Danneel, their gaze shooting to you. “Do you seriously believe this crap? Jesus, I feel shit. Do I look like someone that doesn’t? This guy is so full of shit. He’s a fucking family doctor way out of his league and making crap up.”

Danneel bit her bottom lip, working it between her teeth worriedly. Jensen looked away.

“How do we help Y/N feel like herself again?” Jensen asked, ignoring your scoff.

“We work through the pain. She’s going to hate it. She’s going to hate all of us for a good while. We address the trauma endured and, eventually, her head will accept the emotions back. Most likely after something happens like a minor scare or a holiday or something where heightened emotion occurs. She protected herself in that conference room by retreating inward when she felt alone. We’ll make sure she knows she’s not.”

“Or…” you said, standing up. “Maybe this is a waste of time. Honestly? I couldn’t give a shit about what you think. People suck. That’s life. Just get my through the next six months until I’m eighteen and then it doesn’t matter what any of you want.”

You left and retreated to your room, quiet murmurs coming from down the hall. What was their problem? Just because you wanted to keep your distance you suddenly had a problem they were going to try and fix?

“Fuck this.” You went to the closet and grabbed your duffel, throwing it over your shoulder.

But for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You tensed when a hand lifted it off your shoulder and set it back in the closet. You swallowed when Jensen sighed, looking down at you.

“Listen. I don’t agree with what he said.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “You don’t?”

“No. Because you’re pissed and I know my daughter. You don’t have whatever the thing is he said. Trauma? Sure. But you always have had that.” He put a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You aren’t going to make me like, see him extra or some crap?” He shook his head. “Really?”

“Really. We go back to once a week but nothing else. I know this isn’t something therapy will help with.” You frowned. Jensen shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “No, I realized last night the only way we fix this is with time. So we put in the effort and eventually, that wall will come down. I can wait.”

“Uh, thanks,” you said, rubbing your arm. “I’m really surprised you’re not siding with the doctor.”

“Tall munchkin.” You hated how those two words made your heart squeeze. You bit the inside of your cheek as he sighed. “He is an excellent family doctor but you had a point. He doesn’t know trauma. We’ll find someone better suited to help you. He’s going off a text book definition right now. I damn well know you feel things, you just don’t want to care about us right now. You’re still in shock, just like the rest of us. Let me and Dee figure out the therapist and you just…”

“Just what?” you mumbled. He titled his head, smiling sadly.

“Just be a fucking kid. Go play with the little kids. Spend the summer hanging out with your old friends because news flash, those girls miss you. Trust me, they text us at least once a week asking if we’ve heard from you cause apparently you’re radio silent when they reach out.”

You glanced down before taking a seat at the end of the bed. “I don’t want to be the girl they pity so they let me hang out with them.”

“Y/N,” he chided, sitting next to you. “I know you didn’t know them for very long but I thought those girls were your friends. I didn’t realize they treated you-”

“They didn’t,” you interjected. You rubbed your palm with your thumb, closing your eyes. “I just worried…I worried they didn’t actually like me and felt sorry for me. I’ve always been scared of getting close to anyone so it didn’t hurt when they fucked me over.”

You pressed your thumb in harder when you felt your skin prickle. Your face scrunched up, Jensen shifting beside you.

“I realize now that my birth parents weren’t all that much better than some of my fosters. I just always thought they were strict. Firm but it came from a good place. I was a good kid, after all. Even after I thought they were gone I was still good like they taught me to be.” You grabbed your thighs, gripping them both hard. “They taught me to be obedient and afraid of messing up. I needed to be perfect. Always fucking perfect even when I thought they were dead. I had to be perfect for them. Perfect grades. Well-behaved. I was perfect and they still didn’t want me.”

You turned to Jensen, green guarded eyes carefully looking back. “Jensen, I think you’re a good person and Dee too. But I don’t know how to be a kid. I don’t know how to not think everyone hates me because everyone always has. I’m seventeen years old. I’m too broken to be fixed. We’re better off just saving everyone the trouble and-”

“Can we stop with the bullshit?” You stopped mid sentence, jaw hung open. Meanwhile Jensen shook his head in annoyance. “You ain’t perfect and you never have been. You’ve got a mouth and a stubborn streak and you have never in your life been afraid to give it right back to me. You know what that is? It’s called being a teenager. Broken? Here’s something for you perfect child, you’re grounded for letting those assholes keep winning.”

“What? I have work-”

“You can go to work but I’m having a serious discussion with your managers about the hours you’re keeping which is super illegal for a minor by the way,” he said as he stood, crossing his arms when you glared back. “Be pissed off all you want. I can work with pissed off.”

“I didn’t do anything!” you said, getting up when he started to leave. “Jensen!”

He turned around, his eyes narrowed. “You do not get to let these people have control over you anymore. Fuck every single one of them. You have no idea how amazing you are. How full of love and care you are. In places you don’t want to admit, you know this family loves you. You know your friends care about you, miss you. You aren’t going to sit in this room and wallow about how much life sucks.”

“Jensen, that’s not fair-”

“You promised me you’d try for me,” he said, your jaw snapping shut. “You do not need to succeed but you will always try your best and this girl? Miss I’m too broken? My daughter is better than that. You fail after you try? Fine. But you aren’t trying so you don’t get to quit on this family yet. Understand?”

“But…” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. You looked around the room, your pulse quickening. “You can’t make me. Last night you said I didn’t have to…you said-”

“I know what I said.” He raised his chin, dread curling in your gut. “But you will try.”

“I don’t want any of you!” you shouted, clenching your hands into fists by your sides. “Why won’t you leave me the fuck alone!”

He looked you up and down, a steadiness to him that unnerved you, some of your anger fading. “You can give up on yourself if that’s what you want to do. But I never will.”

“Why do you even-”

“Because that is what dads do, Y/N. I know you don’t understand everything a dad is supposed to do. I get it. I will show you. Dee will show you what a mom does. We will show you.” He put his hands on his hips, your heart caught in your throat. “If you try for us, you don’t have to feel like this every second of every day. We can show you good days, just like we did before. You can have so many good days they’ll outnumber ones like this. But kid, I need you to give it a chance. Now go outside to where the kids are playing so they can welcome you home.”

You grumbled as you went past him, Jensen clearing his throat behind you. “What now?”

“I’d appreciate it if you spent the day with them. They were devastated when you left and-”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you snapped back at him.

“Never said you would. You were always amazing with them. I just hope when you go out there you might finally understand that there are people in this world that love you unconditionally. Kids can’t lie about that crap and those three have begged for their big sister to come back every day. So go make their fucking year and maybe they’ll help you not feel so damn shitty for a little while.”

You swallowed when he went past you and turned the corner.

“I’ll try to try,” you whispered.

You heard him hum and part of you hoped it’d really be that simple.

Late Evening

You winced when you sat down on a counter stool after a late shower. You weren’t old but damn, you had more than a few bruises and scrapes after playing outside with the kids all day.

And it’d been the best day you’d had in a long time.

“Don’t pick at that,” said Dee, coming up from the small basement area with a bottle of wine in hand. You moved your hand away from your knee cap, Dee setting the bottle down. “You put some medicine on your scrapes?”

“Yes,” you said, getting up and going to the cabinet with the first aid kit. She hummed behind you, popping open the bottle as you put a few dabs of antiseptic and bandaids on. “Where’s Jensen?”

“A friend from when he was a kid is in town. They’re getting a quick drink. He should be home in an hour or so,” she said.

“I didn’t say I cared.” She inhaled sharply, pouring her drink with a clenched jaw. “I just think it’s funny. You wanted me back so bad and he’s gone after I’ve been here a day? Yeah, I’m feeling all the love over here.”

“Y/N.” She set the bottle down. Hard. She leaned back, gripping the edge of the counter. With a shake of her head, she sighed. “He hasn’t seen this friend in person in nearly a decade and it’ll probably be another before he sees him again. You want to be pissed at someone? Be pissed at me. I’m the one that told him to go.”

“Of course you did.” She looked up, narrowing her eyes. “Oh come on, Danneel. We both know you never loved me. The kids, yeah. Jensen, maybe. But you? You didn’t want me here. He’s the one always reaching out. It’s never you. He’s not home so we don’t have to pretend right now, alright?”

She stood up straight, taking a long sip from her glass with closed eyes.

“Yeah, drink away the problem. That always worked for so many of my other foster moms.” She set the glass down, slowly peeling open her eyes to reveal something…off. It was a look you didn’t recognize.

“I’m sorry I didn’t love you instantly like he did. I’m sorry Jensen was smitten the second you walked in that door and it took me a few days to fall in love with you. I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you and that we failed you. But you don’t have the right to be mean-”

“I have every right to be whatever the fuck I want,” you snapped. Her bottom lip wobbled, a sharp pang ripping through your gut you tried to ignore. “You’re sad? Boo hoo. Get over it. I told him more than once already. I don’t want this. I don’t want you. You will never be my parent and when I’m eighteen, I really am gone. So suck it up and stop crying because I really do not care.”

She wrinkled her nose and looked away, tears filling her eyes. After a beat, she took a step back and quietly made her way to her room, closing the door behind her. You sighed, sliding off the counter stool to head towards your room when you froze.

Jensen was standing by the hallway, staring at you, every feature of his face etched with anger.

“I-”

“Don’t.” He walked past you, headed straight for his bedroom.

“She-” Jensen spun on his heels, eyes dark as he bounded across the room in four quick steps to stare you down.

“Go to your room. We are going to have a very serious discussion about what I just heard.”

“I-”

“Room. Now,” he growled. You shrunk away and went quickly to your bedroom, heart in your throat.

Why had you said that? Why the fuck had you said that shit to Dee? Your hands shook as you rushed to your closet. You’d been right all along. Something was wrong with you. No wonder no one wanted you. You were nasty and cruel and god, you had to get out of here and let these people live in peace.

You grabbed your duffel and quietly slipped on a pair of sneakers before you were out the garage door without a sound.

One Hour Later

You weren’t far outside of the neighborhood when you heard a car horn blare. You spun around, swallowing when a black SUV sped up close to you, coming to a hard stop in the road. Jensen got out of the car, storming around the front with a fury you’d only seen once before.

Oh god, he was going to fucking kill you.

“Get in the fucking car!” he shouted. You were frozen where you stood, Jensen ripping the duffel away and taking your arm with his other hand. He tossed the bag in the backseat before giving you a look to do what he said or else. Silently you got inside, Jensen slamming the door shut.

You swallowed when you tried the door and realized he had the childproofing on. Fuck, he never did that before when it was only you in the car. He didn’t want you to run away. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He was behind the wheel fast, putting the car in drive. He didn’t head home though. No, he got on the highway and drove out west, out towards the brewery. Out where it was quiet this time of night. The brewery would be closed, no one around.

You were shaking like a leaf when he pulled up in front of the old house on the property. He was quiet, much slower to walk around the car this time. You wouldn’t look at him when he opened the door, taking your arm again. He didn’t say anything as he walked you up the steps into the dark house. He flipped a switch on the wall, a dim hall light and a few others turning on. At the back of the house was an old kitchen, a few wooden chairs sat at a nearby table.

“Sit.” He let go of you, walking to the far side of the room. This was your one and only chance. You bolted out of the room, ripping open the back door. “Y/N!”

You yelped when arms caught you before you could even get off the back porch. Fuck, you thought he wouldn’t be that fast. But you still tried to get free, aware of someone shouting your name over and over.

“Y/N!” Jensen shouted, shaking you once. You blinked away wet tears as you stared up at him, pulse racing as you kept trying to get your wrists out of his steel grip. “Kiddo, stop. What is going on with you?”

“Just fucking do it already,” you breathed out with as much defiance as you could muster which wasn’t a whole lot. Your heart hurt, your body was coming off an adrenaline high and he was too fucking strong. It was all too fucking much.

“Tall munchkin, what are you talking about?” he asked. You jerked on your hands and fresh tears spilled over.

“Just hurt me already. That’s why you brought me out here, isn’t it? So get it over with.”

His face fell so fast you’d have sworn you told him someone had died. He closed his eyes as his grip on you eased, hands moving to your cheeks. He closed his eyes for a long beat, opening them slowly, wiping away your tears. “Oh, baby girl. Do you really think I could ever do that to you?”

You glanced away, body trembling as you fought back the wracking sobs your lungs that were desperate to escape. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring something you couldn’t make out over the pounding in your ears.

“What?” you whispered, eyes fixated on a tree a ways off in the darkness.

“I said it’s okay. I got you.” You glanced up at him, all the rage from before gone, a deep sadness replacing it. He smiled, thumbing away more tears that silently fell. “I’m sorry. I promised I’d keep you safe and I didn’t. You can hate me if that makes you feel better. God knows I hate myself.”

A single crackling heap of air that sounded like a pained cry left your lips, your hands so tight on his wrists you’d leave marks. “Y/N. I’m sorry for making you come back. We should have realized how much we hurt you. We understand if you can’t forgive us…can’t stand us.”

He closed his eyes, breathing hard a few beats. “I will not force you to stay with people you can’t stand. If you want…we can find you a new family…”

Finally he opened his eyes, wet green eyes meeting your own. “I need you to be okay and you’re not with us. I understand. It’s okay. We’ll find you somewhere you can be okay.”

“You’re getting rid of me?” you breathed out, his head shaking. “Yes, you are.”

“Look at yourself,” he said, dropping his hands, your own releasing him when he stepped back. He shrugged, shaking his head. “I was supposed to make your life better. I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to take away the pain, not give you more. You deserve a better father than me.”

“Jensen-”

“You’re still scared of me!” He shouted, waving his hand up and down, wiping off his face with the back of his hand. “You thought I’d hit you? After all this time you still don’t trust me and I don’t blame you. I’m a fuck up that will keep fucking this up. I know you want a family but it doesn’t have to be us. I will find you better, somewhere you can forget about all of the bad homes. You can forget about us. You don’t have to hurt anymore.”

You shook your head, Jensen scoffing, looking over your head. “You ran away again. You keep telling Dee and I how much you don’t want this. We can’t keep doing this every day, Y/N. I won’t force you to be part of a family you don’t want. I shouldn’t have told you that you have to try. I’m sorry.”

You clenched your fists by your sides, blinking through tears that wouldn’t stop, trying to breath through your stuffed up nose and failing. “Y/N, I’m sorry-”

“Stop saying that!” You flung your arms out and pushed him back a step, hands hitting a solid wall of his chest.

“Y/N, you don’t want us-” You pushed him again, Jensen not moving this time. “Y/N! Stop-”

You turned and walked away, hands on your head as you bounded down the back steps.

“Y/N!” You spun around, Jensen a few feet behind you in the grassy yard, your heart breathing hard. “Y/N-”

“I LOVE YOU, YOU FUCKING MORON!” you screamed. He froze, face blank a moment as you looked up to the dark night sky. “I told the DA and the state I wouldn’t sue for all their fuck ups if when you decided to adopt me, the process would happen same day, no waiting. I picked you. I want you.”

“W-why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t Cole?” he asked. You put your back to him, eyes watching the stars above.

“Because I feel like I got stabbed in the heart yesterday and I’ll be bleeding out for the rest of my life. I don’t want adoption unless you want me.” You shuddered when fresh tears started, your throat feeling raw from the choked back sobs.

“But…you know we want you. You know that.” You nodded, feeling him behind you. “If you want us and we want you, what the fuck are we doing out here?”

“This might surprise you but I’m pretty fucked up,” you joked. You lowered your head, wrapping your arms around yourself in the cool night air. “No one’s ever loved me before. I’m so goddamn scared of being loved.”

“Why?” he asked quietly.

“Because what if you change your mind like all the others. There’s no more room inside of me for that and especially not from you.”

“What makes me so special?” he breathed out, resting his hands on your shoulders, tucking your head under his chin.

“I don’t know. I just know that it hurt a hell of a lot more to think you gave me back than to know my birth parents gave me up and I don’t fucking understand why. I’m so mean to you and Dee because if you hurt me like that for real, it’ll kill me. I want you but I’m so scared of that pain coming back. You are the ones that deserve better, not me.”

“And we screwed up so you don’t trust us the way you need to in order to get rid of that fear,” he said. You shook your head, shrugging away from him.

“Jensen,” you said, facing him, the breeze in the air drying your salty tear streaks against your cheeks. “I don’t blame you for not knowing the impossible. That case worker woman was vile. She fucked with me my whole time in foster care. I do not blame you and I hate that you hate yourself for what she did.”

“It doesn’t matter. My job is to protect you and I didn’t. It’s that simple.” You tilted your head, frowning at him. “If we’d stopped her that day we could have been there for you when you found out about her and your birth parents. You wouldn’t feel so alone right now.”

“Yes I would and you know it. Finding out about my birth parents was always going to make me question you and Dee and everything. That kind of pain…” Your gaze went down to your feet for a moment, trailing up to his face eventually. “I was never going to outrun it. It’s something I have to go through alone. You can help but that pain is mine and mine alone to fight through.”

“You shouldn’t ever know that level of pain. No one should,” he said softly. You nodded, the air quiet and still. “I need to let you be in pain I think is what you’re telling me.”

“I’m not looking forward to it either,” you said, closing your eyes. “I got so good at bottling crap up and it’s festering in there. I’ve been trying so hard to stay numb to it all.”

“That’s clearly been working out,” he teased, his foot steps crunching against the dry grass. Heavy arms wrapped around your back, your head dropping to his chest. “Last night you were in shock.”

“I know.”

“I think you have to let yourself feel it all, kiddo. You have to take it and mourn and let the pain in.” You shook your head, his hand dipping under your chin. You swallowed and met his gaze, his green eyes gentle. “You’re scared of being loved? Then let me love you through this. Let me prove that I love all those dark, ugly corners inside of you that you can’t stand. Let me show you I love the worst parts of you as much as the best. You can’t live with this fear and pain forever. So you fight through it and I’ll be by your side while you do. Can we try that?”

“Okay,” you whispered. You shuddered, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “We have a problem.”

“What?” he asked, pressure forming behind your eyes. You screwed your eyes shut to try and stop the wetness but it was coming, your skin prickled up, nerves tingling as the pit your stomach opened up.

“You said nice things and I don’t think I can wait until we get home to have a breakdown,” you whispered, a pang of hurt rippling across your chest. You grimaced, Jensen bending down and picking you up, arms and legs wrapping around him as you clung tight. You trembled, panic crawling through your veins.

They don’t love you. They don’t love you. They don’t love you. No one’s ever loved you.

“Hey, hey,” he said as you sat down inside on the floor of the kitchen against one of the walls. “Breathe for me, tall munchkin. Breathe.”

“W-why didn’t they want me?” you croaked. A large hand tucked you into the crook of his neck, his arms tight across your back and holding you to him. “Why’d they do that to me?”

“I don’t know, baby girl,” he said. You started babbling questions you knew he couldn’t answer, all the while he kept a lock tight grip to keep you close. It was hours later when the tears were long gone and your body exhausted when you finally stopped.

“Jensen,” you mumbled, wearily opening your eyes and met with the mess of his neck and shirt you’d made.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he whispered, head tilted against yours.

“Why do you love me?” you barely got out, throat like sandpaper. He was quiet, chest rising and falling slowly underneath you.

“Those people may have made you but you’re my daughter and I need no reason to love my daughter. All I know is I love her and I will for the rest of eternity so she better get fucking used to it.”

You turned your head up, Jensen lifting his with a tired smile. “How we doing, kiddo?”

“You kept your promise,” you whispered. “About protecting me. Trust me.”

“Okay, kiddo,” he said, your head falling back to his shoulder. “You want to go home?”

You nodded, Jensen grunting as he got his legs underneath himself and managed to stand with you still around him. You hummed your impressment, Jensen chuckling as he walked through the house and hit the switch on the way out.

“We’ll do this as many times as we need to, okay?” You closed your eyes and hummed again. “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier. I just didn’t want you to run off on me before we could talk.”

“S’okay,” you murmured. “Probably a good call.”

“Let’s get you home, sweetie.”

Thirty minutes later Jensen was carrying you inside, kicking off his shoes and pulling yours off your feet before turning the alarm on and turning off the downstairs lights. He didn’t veer left towards your room though. Instead he carried you into his room where Danneel sat in bed with a book and her phone. You wearily raised your head. It was two in the morning. Why wasn’t she asleep?

“M’sorry,” you got out, throat burning again, a wince crossing your face.

“I forgive you,” she said softly as she stood up, tucking your hair behind your ear as Jensen brought you to the bed. She kissed your forehead, sighing gently. “We can talk in the morning.”

“I love you,” you said when Jensen started to move. She smiled, running her hand over your head.

“I love you too,” she said, nodding towards the bed. Jensen set you down in the middle, Danneel pulling the covers over top of you.

Your head had barely hit the pillow before you were out like a light.

You woke up to the sound of a pan clattering somewhere. You looked around the unfamiliar space, quickly registering where exactly you were. The sun was up and a quick glance at the clock showed it was just after seven.

You slowly got out of bed and used the bathroom before leaving their bedroom. Danneel was washing a pan in the sink while Jensen sipped on a cup of coffee and tried to get the twins to eat their breakfast.

“Morning,” you squeaked out, hand going to your throat. You rubbed it, Danneel frowning at you.

“What are you doing up?”

“I have school in thirty minutes,” you said, Jensen shoving a glass of water in front of you that you happily chugged.

“We called school. You finished your exams last week they said and Cole already got you excused these last two days,” said Danneel. “You’re on summer vacation.”

You sat down at the counter and closed your eyes, the sound of a plate set in front of you. You opened them again, Jensen’s plate now yours. He eyed for you to eat and you were honestly still too tired to argue. It hurt a bit to swallow but you got your eggs down by the time Jensen was rushing the kids off to school and daycare.

“Go take a shower and change,” said Danneel, taking your mostly empty plate away.

“Dee.” You paused at the hallway to your room, hearing her stop working in the kitchen.

“Jensen told me about last night. We don’t have to rehash it.” You nodded, putting a hand on the wall. “We’d like to take you on a day trip today if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Where?” you asked.

“Galveston? Have you ever been?” You shook your head. “You’ve never seen the ocean?”

“We only went on one trip when I was a kid and that’s when my birth parents tried to abandon me in the woods.” You shrugged. “Maybe we should go in a few days after JJ graduates kindergarten.”

She smiled and shook her head. “We take lots of trips. We were supposed to go to Canada on your spring break, do you remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’ll go on that one in July when Jensen goes back to work. But today is a trip for us three, okay? The little ones can come another time.”

“Don’t they need-”

“They are taken care of. Now go wash up and pack a bag. We won’t be home until late.”

“What do I bring to the beach?” you asked. She smiled.

“Just go wash up. I’ll pack your things. Don’t worry.”

That Evening

You tilted your head back with a smile, enjoying the warm setting sun on your face as you leaned against the railing of the pier. The cool ocean breeze was a nice contrast to the last traces of heat in the day.

“I didn’t know teenagers were capable of spending the day with their parents for a day without combusting, let alone do it with a smile,” said Jensen beside you. You stuck out your tongue at him, Jensen throwing an arm over your cold shoulders. “Warm enough?”

“I’m a little chilly but I don’t want to leave yet,” you said.

“I will be right back then. Five minutes.” He left your side and headed towards a stand nearby, Danneel looping her arm through yours as she watched the waves with you.

“Did you have a good day?” she asked.

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “But this isn’t real life. It’s a vacation. I can’t have your attention all the time.”

“Sweetie, you’re seventeen. I seriously doubt you want our attention all the time.”

“Good point,” you said. “But you and Jensen can’t focus on me. It’s not fair to the little guys.”

“Y/N. Jensen and I are the parents, not you. You will never be a parent to your siblings, understand? You just…be a big sister and you leave the making sure the kids are alright to me and Jay.”

“I’m not used to this. Being cared for. Getting a whole day for me,” you said, smiling when you saw a dolphin far out jump over the water.

“You’ll get used to it. This is just the start.” You nodded when she rested her head on your shoulder. “Someday you’ll struggle to remember what it was like not feeling loved. Just give us time to make it feel normal.”

“I just…feel like it’s a lot for just me. I didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“Love isn’t a barter system. You just do things for the people you love because you love them. Like Jensen buying you an overpriced sweatshirt so you won’t be cold.” You smirked, her hand rubbing up and down your bare arm. “Trust me?”

“Okay,” you whispered, head turning when Jensen approached with a bright royal blue hoodie.

“Alright so I went with blue since I don’t think our daughter is a highlighter pink kind of girl.” You raised your eyebrows, Jensen chuckling as he tugged it on over your head. “Are you about to tell me I misread that?”

“Uh no, I want the blue over the pink for sure,” you said, tugging it down as he fixed the strings. “I just…you said our daughter.”

“I did. Daughter, daughter, daughter, daughter, daughter,” he said, kissing your forehead when you blushed. “I don’t know what to do with her, Dee. She clearly hates being called daughter.”

“Maybe we just keep saying it so our daughter gets used to it?” she asked, wrapping her arm around your waist.

“I think we definitely should for our daughter. What does our daughter think about that, daughter?” said Jensen with a big stupid smile.

“Jesus christ,” you said, rolling your eyes as you bit the inside of your cheek. His eyes lit up though, finger pointing at your face. “What?”

“Daughter smiled,” he grinned.

“I did not-”

“Don’t lie, daughter,” said Dee, Jensen putting you in a headlock when you groaned. “Aw, she’s annoyed with us.”

“Just like a normal family,” he said. You groaned again. “Come on, let’s go find some ice cream around here.”

“There’s a place back that way with a red and white awning,” said a voice in passing. You turned your head to find a guy about your age standing there, a couple guys that looked like his friends walking on ahead of him.

“Well thank you,” said Jensen, trying to walk away with you but you were still looking at this guy with short, fluffy black hair and a UT Austin hoodie.

“Hi,” he said with a smile as you realized he’d been talking to you the whole time.

“Hi,” you said, pushing Jensen’s arm off of you, taking a step closer to him. “Do you go to Austin?”

He glanced down and laughed. “Oh no. I’m going into my senior year of high school. I did a college tour over there last month. They’re my first choice.”

“Same. I want to do their architecture program if I can get in,” you said, the guys eyes lighting up even more.

“Small world. I’m applying for architecture too,” he said, the guys friends coming back, someone whispering something in his ear that had him trying to wave them off.

“Well hopefully we both get in,” you said, stepping closer and holding out your hand. “Can I have your phone?”

He fumbled with it in his pocket for a second before pulling it out. You texted yourself from his phone and handed it back, his shy smile growing by the second. “Text me sometime. We can vent about the application process.”

“S-sure,” he said, taking the phone back. You clasped your hands behind your back, not even a little upset about the weird little flip flops your stomach was doing. “I’ll see you around.”

“I hope so,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”

“TJ,” he said, walking backwards with that stupid grin.

“See you around campus, TJ.”

“You too, Y/N,” he said as you spun around, giving him a little wave behind your back. You walked past Jensen and Dee, humming to yourself.

“Did you see the way they were looking at each other?” whispered Dee.

“Yes,” mumbled Jensen.

“The way she lit up-”

“Yes.”

“Did that remind you of anyone in particular, Jensen?” she said, a smile in her voice.

“Yes,” he sighed. You glanced over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow at them. “She thinks you just met your soulmate.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, right. Sure I did.”

“Jesus christ, she’s going to marry that fucking kid,” said Jensen. You rolled your eyes. “If you saw your face, you’d think so to.”

“He was hot, doesn’t mean anything,” you said, Dee smirking up at Jensen. “Guys.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go find some ice cream.”

It was after midnight when you got home and into bed. The bridge of your nose was sunburnt and you were pretty sure you still smelled like the ocean despite a shower. But it was a good day.

“Hey,” said Jensen, knocking on the doorframe to your room as you climbed under the covers. “Need anything?”

“I’m good,” you said, Jensen setting a glass of water down on your nightstand. “Thanks.”

“You were in the sun a lot today. Drink that before you sleep,” he said, ruffling your hair. You closed your eyes and nodded, flashing them open when he moved away.

“Why’d you and Dee tease me about that guy today?” you asked. He looked worried and you shook your head. “It’s okay. I know I’ve never talked about boys before with you guys but like, I’ve had a boyfriend before. For like a month but still.”

He smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his, thumbing over the sleeve of your new hoodie. “Because for a solid minute there, honey, you weren’t just happy. You were…lighter. We’ve never seen you like that before. You were so forward with him and flirting and that is what I want you to feel with your partner everyday when you are ready for that. It’s very hard to explain that it seemed different than you just thinking a guy was hot. Does that make sense?”

You nodded, putting your free hand on your stomach. “I had butterflies but I’ve had those before. I just…it’s really hard to believe in the idea of soulmates. I want to, you know? The idea that there’s someone out there that’s yours and will love you forever is nice but…I find it hard to believe some guy could ever love me. I mean, you know me. What boy will put up with me questioning them if they love me? I’ll be one of those weird clingy girls and guys don’t like that.”

“Your other half will be your safe place and will love to be that for you. He will love to tell you how much he loves you and he will be so good at it, you won’t doubt him. That is the man you will marry. You will never settle for any other man than one that loves you and you will know, tall munchkin. You’ll know who he is when you meet him.”

“How do you know, though?” You asked. Jensen chuckled.

“I’m going to let you figure that one out for yourself when you’re older,” he said, leaning in. “But do text that boy first when you’re ready. If he’s anything like me, he’ls going to need you to make the first move.”

“You think I’m that brave?” you scoffed. “Me?”

“Kid, you literally pushed me away to go talk to some random boy. I don’t know what that was but that boy is meant to be somebody in your life,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “Do me a favor though. Focus on you first for awhile, not boyfriends. Deal?”

“Deal.” He got up, pausing when he watched you part your lips.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Thanks, for today. I’ve never built a sandcastle or been on a jet ski or eaten seafood or just…had a day like that.”

“You’ll have more like it, promise. Get some sleep now.”

“I…” you said before he could leave, Jensen cocking his head down. “There’s a part of me that’s still scared, that I don’t fit here. I know I shouldn’t but I might…I might still…I don’t want to be a brat again. I don’t. But I’m scared I’ll wake up tomorrow and you'll change your mind.”

“Y/N.” He looked down, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Dee and I called Cole this morning to start the process for you to be adopted. By the end of the week we should be in front of a judge and make it official.”

“You want to…” He nodded. “Why now?”

“We always wanted you. The paperwork has been filled out since the first day we met you.” Your eyes went wide, Jensen sighing. “We wanted adoption to be the last step after you knew we loved you and we knew you loved us. It wasn’t supposed to be a bandaid to get you there. We know you’re shaky still because of your birth parents and there’s fresh scars there we have to work through. But I know you. I know you want us and we want you. So let’s make you ours and we’ll work on healing those new scars.”

“I-I’m getting adopted this week?” you asked, Jensen smiling.

“JJ graduates on Wednesday and we’re having a party for her afterwards. Is Friday too far away?” You shook your head. “We’ll go to the store tomorrow, find you a dress or whatever you want to wear for it.”

“Okay,” you whispered. He ran his hand over your head, leaning down to kiss the top of it. You pressed your hands to your eyes, trying to stop the pressure behind them trying to build.

“You do want this, don’t you?” he asked. You nodded, feeling the air shift. Your hands were gently pulled away, Jensen kneeling before you. “Hey. You never have to hide your tears from me.”

“It just doesn’t feel real. Good things don’t happen to me.” He held your hands, trying to hide his worry. “Are you really sure?”

“We lost you once. We’re not losing you again. End of story.” You closed your eyes, smiling as he pulled you into a hug. “And to be clear, you keep calling me and Dee whatever you want to. You do not have to call us mom and dad. Ever. Okay?”

“You worry too much,” you whispered, hugging him hard. He let out a huff, chuckling through it. “I wish I was born here.”

“Me too. I would have loved to teach you so much.” You laughed, leaning back to catch his curious eyes.

“There’s still things you can…like maybe tomorrow you can show me how to ride a bike?” you asked. His eyes lit up at that information. “I know I should know by now but no one…I realized the assholes didn’t teach me a lot-”

“We will teach you everything you want to know,” he said, getting to his feet and kissing your forehead. “Starting with the bike tomorrow. Now drink your water and I want you to sleep in tomorrow. You haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months.”

“Jensen,” you said as you scooted back against the pillows and he grabbed your blanket from the chair in the corner to toss over you. “I swear I’ll never run away again. I’m sorry. You and Dee need to have a good night’s sleep too.”

“I trust you, tall munchkin.” He pointed at the glass and you took a big chug, Jensen humming. “Come get us if you need anything.”

“Goodnight,” you said, setting the glass aside and laying down.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Friday Night

Jensen stood up from his seat around the table on the back porch where most of the family was congregated. “Alright. I’m going to go get the firepit started. Y/N, come watch and learn.”

You shoveled down the rest of your cake and wiped off your hands as you trotted down the stairs after him. “Are you sure this is about the firepit and not giving me some kind of present? Cause you’ve been trying to get me alone for like, an hour.”

“We already got you presents. The new bike for my incredible prodigy-”

“Am I prodigy if we spent thirty minutes watching youtube videos first?” He ignored you, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you walked across the grass towards the back patio deck in the corner.

“You already got your presents for the day,” he said.

“Yeah, stuff I didn’t ask for in the first place. Having…this is more than enough,” you said, gesturing towards him and back at the house.

“I know. It actually makes it incredibly difficult to find gifts for you,” he teased, letting you go when you got to the pit. He flicked the pocket of your galveston hoodie you wore, your head darting down at the thwacking sound. “Hm. Sound like something’s in there.”

“Did you just reverse pick-pocket me?” you said, reaching inside and pulling out an envelope.

“Why don’t you go take a seat and read that while I get the fire going?” he said, pointing to a far off chair. You raised and eyebrow but left him, instead choosing to hop up on top of the railing. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you asked, tearing it open.

“There’s some things in there that are different now but the message is the same. Remember that.”

“Okay…” you said, taking out the sheets, pausing when you saw the date in the top corner. “This is from the first day I was ever here, last December.”

“I might have written that awhile ago.” You stared at him, Jensen tilting his head. “You read that and we never have to talk about it again and when you’re ready, we’ll invite everybody down here, alright?”

“What is this?” you asked, spotting an 18 on the envelope.

“I…write letters to my children…for their big life events…some I’ve already written, some I haven’t yet. That was supposed to be your letter for your eighteenth birthday. I always thought with how long adoption takes…it’d be around that time when we had been able to do that for you. Today felt fitting for it.” He put his back to you and started to fiddle with a switch on the stone wall, flames coming up from the gas fire pit. He simply stood there, watching it, ignoring your stares.

After a moment you straightened out the papers and started to read.

Hi kiddo. So today’s your first day here. It’s getting pretty late. I just checked and you’re passed out in your room. I’m taking that as a good sign. I know today was stressful for you, stressful for all of us. It certainly hasn’t turned out like I expected. I never expected you to be any sort of way really. But you kind of broke my heart earlier. It’s alright. It’s part of being a dad. It’s nothing you even did. I see how afraid you are, how closed off you are. You told me not to bother with you.

Y/N, you’re out of your fucking mind if you think for one second I’m not going to fight every single day to prove you wrong. You are worth a family, sweetie. You are so worth it. Dee and I talked about you quite a bit after you went to bed. We’re going to adopt the shit out of you someday. Hopefully by the time you get this, we already have or at least you know we’re going to.

I don’t need that piece of paper to know how I feel. We’ll get it someday, I promise you that. But I don’t need it. I don’t need a piece of paper to call you my daughter.

I know you’re probably thinking, Jensen, you’re nuts. You barely knew me for five hours! How did you know you wanted to adopt me?

Well, Y/N, here’s the thing. Before I opened that front door today, I didn’t. I wanted desperately for you to be part of this family. I certainly never expected to know right away. You know, I’ve only known I loved someone unconditionally like that three other times in my life. You may know them as your siblings. Even with Dee, I fell hard for her but not so fast.

It scares the shit out of me to be honest. You’ll learn in time that while I’m big and tall and strong, I’m a wimp when it comes to this stuff. I got a lot of friends, but there’s only a few I let in close like that. I get scared of getting hurt too. I’m shy and quiet unless I feel comfortable around whoever I’m with. I force myself to not be like that around people sometimes but I don’t have to force a thing with you. So yeah, it’s only been a little while. I know we got a lot ahead of us to deal with.

I know I love you too, kiddo. I’m not your birth dad. I didn’t teach you to ride a bike or swing a baseball bat or take you to your first day of school.

But you’re my daughter and I’ll never give a damn that we don’t share blood or the fact I didn’t make you. You’re ours and we’re yours and no one will ever tell me otherwise.

I’ll always be your dad, no matter how big you get. You lost a lot of opportunities to be a kid. I know that and I wish I could give them back. But I’ll do what I can. You can be embarrassed of me or think I’m a dork. That’s okay. I want to give you as much as possible.

Just because you’re growing up doesn’t mean any of that will ever stop either. I will still be dad and still ask you to let me know you got home safe when you’re my age so get used to it. I know it’ll only have been about a year. I know it won’t be perfect. I know we’ll have had hard days by now and we’ll keep having them.

But as long as you’re safe, as long as you’re happy, as long as you give us a chance, that’ll be more than enough for me. You’re strong, Y/N. I am proud of you for how amazing you’ve done in life all on your own. Maybe it seems stupid to you but I am proud. You were your own parent and I’m sorry. No one should have to raise themselves. But you did a damn good job of it. Let us take over from here. You rest and be a kid again.

Allow yourself to feel loved again, honey. We won’t hurt you. We never will.

By the time you see this, I hope you know all of this already. I hope none of this comes as a surprise. We love you. I love you. I think you know we’re different already. I saw it tonight when I told you I was going to prove you wrong. No one’s cared about you like that in a long time.

Your parents care. Cole cares. We care. There’s going to be even more people that come into your life that care about you. I’m so very honored to get to be one of them. It won’t be easy. But that’s okay. I will never stop showing you that you are worth every bit of love you get around here and beyond it.

I love you.

Also, you snore a little and that’s so flippin’ adorable.

I don’t know how to end this so welcome home, Y/N and Happy 18th Birthday, kiddo.

Love,

Dad

You wiped off your face with your sleeve, a shaky breath escaping your lips. Carefully, you tucked the letter back into the envelope, holding it against your chest.

“Why didn’t you give me this sooner?” you whispered. You heard the deck creak behind you.

“You wouldn’t have believed me.” You closed your eyes, chest tight.

“Sunday night…you said you’d find me another family if that’s what I wanted. Even when you loved me all this time.”

“When you love someone, really love them, all you want is for them to be happy. I’d do anything to make you happy, kiddo, even if it hurts me. That’s what parents do.”

You tucked the envelope into the kangaroo pocket of your hoodie, slowly wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I don’t want you to feel bad about Sunday. We don’t have to talk about that letter ever again either. All I wanted to do was give you a reminder for when I’m not around that we love you so damn much.”

Your bottom lip wobbled as your eyes opened, glancing right to find him at your side. Warm green eyes met yours, his smile soft. He wiped your cheeks with the cuff of his shirt sleeve, turning your head when you tried to shy away. “Hey. Look at me.”

You looked up, soft fleece touching under your eyes and then dabbing over your wet lashes. You blinked a few times, swallowing thickly. All he did was smile though. “Why are you washing my face?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wiped away one of my kids tears and it won’t be the last.”

“But why me? I’m not a little kid,” you whispered. He cocked his head, swiping down your neck before cupping your cheek.

“Because you’ll always be my kid and dad’s take care of their kids. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you. I promise.” You nodded, his hand dropping. “I’m sorry about the letter-”

“No.” You placed your hands over the pocket, the envelope crinkling. “I loved it.”

“It made you cry.”

“They weren’t sad tears,” you whispered. He took a moment to clear his throat, leaning against the railing. He lowered his head, breathing deeply. “Will you write me more letters?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, turning to you with a smile. “I’ll write you more letters. I just thought you didn’t like the way I ended it.”

“I don’t snore,” you said, getting a laugh out of him. “I don’t.”

“Yes you do but they’re tiny baby snores. It’s cute,” he said, looking down again. “I meant the dad thing.”

“You call yourself that all the time.” He sighed, straightening up.

“I know. But that’s not a title I’ve earned with you. I just…” he closed his eyes, shoulders tensing.

“That was my favorite part.” He turned slowly, blinking his eyes rapidly. You shrugged, a small whisper of a smile forming on your lips. “Why the hell wouldn’t I love when you tell me you love me?”

“I can love you as Jensen. You never, ever, have to call me anything other than that and it doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you.”

You nodded, looking out at the dark river beyond. The air was quiet, Jensen still, at ease next to you.

“We should invite everyone down here before they wonder what the hell’s going on,” you said. You felt him start to turn, your hand catching his arm. He looked down at it before finding your face. You smiled, taking a deep breath. “Can you bring down stuff for smores?”

“I can do that,” he said, getting a half step away.

“Dad,” you said, glancing over your shoulder, his whole body freezing. He spun around, surprise written all over his face. You grinned wider, tilting your head at him. “Don’t forget the napkins this time.”

“Right. Napkins.” He blinked a few times, glancing at the house and then you. “Are you sure-”

“Dad. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” He held up his hands. “I’m serious.”

“Alright. Smores coming right up.”

You woke up early the next day, padding down the hall and finding Jensen and Danneel sitting on the covered back porch with mugs of coffee in front of them. With a yawn, you saw him wave you over and grumbled. You’d taken to drinking coffee the past few months when you started working so much and had developed a craving for it in the mornings.

“Morning,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the table and stealing the closest cup to you. You took a big, slow gulp, humming to yourself.

“I need that more than you do,” said Jensen, taking the mug back, taking a drink. “Sleep okay?”

You nodded, rubbing your eye when Danneel leaned over and gave you a side hug. “Can we be normal again guys? I get yesterday was a big deal but I just want to go back to being Y/N.”

“We’re huggers,” he said as she squeezed tighter. “Speaking of which, we have one last present for you, from my parents. They asked us to give it to you privately. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

You raised an eyebrow, Danneel releasing you only to reach across the table and tug over a blue bag. “Go on.”

With a roll of your eyes, you reached in the bag and pulled out a picture frame. Turning it over, you saw a slightly grainy image of you as a toddler, maybe three years old at most. Except the other person in the picture, the person who’s hip you were sat on as you clung your tiny arms around their neck, was a young Jensen of all people.

You snapped your eyes over to him, a silly look on his face. “What is this?”

“When Jensen was in his twenties, they went on a family trip to disney world,” said Dee, hugging your side again. “When he was at the airport, there was a lost little girl and he helped her. Do you remember that at all?”

You titled your head, staring at him, eyes widening briefly. “You? T-That was you?”

“My mom was going through some old home movies and found footage from when that happened a while ago. She only told me last night and gave me a picture like that too. She thinks it’s a sign.”

“It is a sign,” said Danneel, your gaze going back to the picture. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“Y/N, if I had somehow known back then what your future was…” You nodded, offering him a smile. “I wish I’d known and could have been there for you.”

“S’okay,” you said quietly, smirking at the picture. “Like mom said, I’m where I’m supposed to be now.”

“Exactly,” she said, your arms wrapping around her waist as she hugged you tight. You felt another pair of arms wrap around you both and squeeze. “So, did you text that boy from the pier yet?”

“Uh, actually yeah,” you said, heat creeping into your face. “He’s from Dallas. He seems nice.”

Thankfully they dropped it when there was a crash in the house and JJ came rushing over, covered in milk. Dee sighed and scooped her up, you and Jensen following behind to clean up the floor.

“Y/N,” he said as you used a roll of paper towels to soak up the half gallon splashed across the floor. You hummed, glancing up when you noticed he’d stopped cleaning. “I’m going to say this once and only once because I trust you. The person you end up with, make sure they’re a good one. I don’t want you to end up with an asshole who only tells you what you want to hear.”

“I won’t. I’ve got a pretty good example of how the guy I end up with should treat me.” You continued to clean up, shaking your head. “Besides, there’s no way that I end up with that TJ guy. Like zero chance.”

“That why you keep staring at your phone with a stupid smile on your face whenever you get a text?” You growled, Jensen chuckling. “Oh come on, I can’t tease you about boys? This is too much fun for me.”

“Dad,” you groaned. He only beamed though, smiling as you rolled your eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yup. Just remember you picked us dorks.” You glanced over at him, a tiny sliver of a smile coming through. “Too late to change your mind now.”

“You’re alright for an old guy,” you teased.

“Just alright?” he asked. You shrugged.

“Maybe a little more than alright,” you said, getting a head ruffle, stilling when you realized he’d just gotten milk all in your hair. “Dude! Gross!”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

__________

A/N: Let me know what you thought of this part with a comment or reblog as I'm very interested!

#supernatural #spn #Jensen ackles #Jensen ackles x foster daughter!reader #Jensen ackles x daughter!reader #Jensen ackles au #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fanfiction

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winchesterwild78 · 22 days ago

Text

A Shattered Heart

Master List

Jensen x Reader (girlfriend)

Warnings: Lots and lots of Angst, language, Jensen being a dick (sorry)

A/N: Just kinda in my head and feelings today…This story just popped in my head. Not sure if it’s going to be a one shot or a few chapters. I’ll play it by ear. I had to get this out before I could finish any of my other stories. 🫤 This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own and absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. No idea why my head is filled with this story…..it’s brutal. I wrote it fast-like 30 minutes, and didn’t do a great job editing. Please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

The soft glow of the lamp cast long, dancing shadows across the room. Jensen and you had been dating for a few months now, and while there were moments of pure bliss, the weight of his recent divorce often hung heavy in the air. His ex-wife had been particularly cruel during the proceedings, leaving him emotionally scarred.

You’d tried to be there for him, but he would often push you away to deal with things himself. He tried to keep things civil between him and Danneel, for the sake of the kids, but it proved to be a daunting task at times.

After months of back and forth, they finally arrived at a custody agreement. He would get the kids when he wasn’t filming, and for some holidays. She kept the house in Connecticut and he got the one in Austin. Danneel tried to get both, but the judge decided she had gotten enough from him. Between child support, alimony, half the brewery and half the production company, she was practically set for life.

You had absolutely no problem with the child support, but you felt it was ridiculous she received alimony too. Jensen didn’t put up a fight about that. You respected him so much, the only thing he did fight for was his children.

After the divorce was final, you moved in with him, into his Austin home. He told you to make any changes you wanted, because as he put it, “It’s your home too.” So you made some changes here and there, but keeping all of the things that were Jensen and of course his children.

Danneel barely spoke to you, and would often refer to you as a homewrecker, trash, or some other derogatory term she could think of. It pissed Jensen off, because the two of you met after they split up, and you didn’t move in until after the divorce was final.

You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you, but it really did. You fell in love with Jensen when you saw him at a convention, but you didn’t pursue him until after you heard they had split. Well, you really didn’t pursue him, you two just hit it off and got to talking. You both flirted, alcohol was free flowing, and then you kissed. That was it. Days later, after the convention ended, Jensen reached out to you on social media. You thought it was a joke until he sent you a picture and then video called you. After that you were completely smitten by him.

So now here you were months later, living with him and falling deeper in love with him. You hoped he felt the same way about you. The only obstacle was his filming schedule. It was something you weren’t used to yet, and sometimes it caused tension between the two of you.

As Jensen’s marriage started to fall apart he purposely spent more time away from home. He took guest starring roles, did more conventions, and even started some new projects. It became a habit that was hard for him to break.

So now even though your relationship was good, he had commitments he had already made. It’s been an adjustment to say the least. Jensen was off filming again, and you were left alone, again. Your heart ached for him, your arms ached for him. The longer he was gone the more in your head you would get, and that was never a good thing.

After a month-long shooting schedule, Jensen returned home looking haggard and exhausted. you could see the toll it had taken on him. The two of you had spent the evening cuddling on the couch, with you trying to soothe his weary soul. You made his favorite dinner, steak and potatoes, and even baked him a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.

“Thanks sweetheart for dinner and dessert. You didn’t have to go all out for me.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Yes I did, you’ve been gone for too long and I wanted to show you how much I missed you. Besides, who can say no to chocolate cake?” You winked at him. The two of you spent the rest of the night snuggled together under the blanket and talking while the tv played softly in the background.

He told you about the latest project he was on, how he’d been called back to guest star in Tracker again. You could see his excitement, but part of you felt a pang of sadness, because that meant more time away from you. You bit your lip to prevent the tears from flowing. You were so proud of him and all his projects, but part of you wanted to be selfish and have him to yourself for a little bit.

Just as you were about to settle in for the night, his phone rang. It was Danneel. You could hear the anger in her voice as she berated him about his absence and how the alimony check was 2 days late. “Fuck, Danneel, it was only 2 damn days. You act like it’s the end of the world. Maybe if you got off your ass and worked it wouldn’t be that big of a deal! I was in Canada and the mail takes longer. Yes, it has to be a check. I want a paper trail to prove I paid it! Bullshit! You would throw me under the bus if you could. You’re just waiting to screw me over!” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. You sat in silence as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. “No! I already told you I’ll be filming. I can’t keep the kids for spring break. That’s not fair, Danneel. Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want!” He hung up with a growl.

You stepped closer to him and touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort. He shrugged you off, “Not now, Y/N! Fuck!” You flinched at his anger and his words. He’d never spoken to you like that before. It took you by surprise and it hurt. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I was just trying to help.” Your voice came out softer and smaller than you’d ever heard. “Well don’t! You’re not a part of this, you can’t help! Unless you know how I can continue to work and see my kids, while supporting them, my ex and you!” You gasped at his words. “What?! You don’t support me? I work, I make my own money.”

Jensen scoffed, “Yeah right. Your little paycheck, honey I make that in a fucking day!” Tears filled your eyes and you let out an audible sob. Jensen turned and looked at you as you cried. His eyes were full of rage, his jaw tight with anger. You had no idea why he was taking his anger out on you.

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated growl. “Fuck this shit! I can’t handle my bitch ex wife and now you crying like you are. I’m going out!” He grabbed his jacket and keys and left.

As he stormed out of the house, you crumbled onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. His words, his anger playing over and over in your head like a record. Each harsh word, like a punch to the chest. You felt incredibly hurt, so betrayed, and so utterly alone.

You eventually moved off the floor, when the tears refused to fall anymore. Exhaustion overtaking your body, your head pounding from the crying. Hours passed as you laid on the couch, curled in a ball. You checked your phone, hoping for a text or a call from Jensen, but nothing. As the hours ticked on your heart broke more.

Around 4 am you were startled awake by the sound of the front door opening. Jensen came in, drunk. You could smell the whiskey on him. You sat up and looked at him, “Jensen, do you have any idea what time it is?” You asked softly.

“Nope, don’t care either. Why are you still here? I figured you’d be gone by now.” Jensen asked through slurred speech. You bit your lip and swallowed hard, “You don’t mean that Jensen.”

You stood up and walked over to him. He stepped closer to you, saw your red, puffy eyes, “Yes I do, darlin’. I thought I made it clear I don’t want you here anymore. It’s only complicating things with my kids.”

You scoffed as the pain and hurt shot through your body, “Okay, I’ll leave. Just know you’re the one who asked for me to leave, Jensen. I love you.” You walked upstairs without looking back at him. The tears were flowing freely now. Your heart was shattered. You’d given him everything, including your heart, and he just threw it all away.

Walking into your shared bedroom, you looked around at the life you two had created. You grabbed a suitcase and started filling it up with things. You glanced at Jensen’s side of the bed and saw the picture Chris took of the two of you at the convention you met him at. You saw the love in his eyes and in yours.

As you left the bedroom you walked back downstairs and found Jensen sitting on the couch. He glanced up at you and saw the suitcase in your hand. You walked over to the kitchen counter, took your key off the ring and set it down.

Before you walked out the door, you turned around and locked eyes with Jensen. “I love you Jensen, please don’t forget that. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you.” You swear his breath hitched at your words, but you turned so quickly you weren’t sure.

You put your suitcase in your car and climbed in. Putting the car in drive you pulled out of the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror at the life you were now left to mourn.

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader

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holylulusworld · 7 months ago

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Indecent Proposal (17.2)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, implied needy reader and Bucky, polyamory, making out, implied smut (mfm, mm)

Indecent Proposal (17)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“You are silent,” you chew on your lower lip. Since the doctor left, Bucky and Steve didn’t say a word. They exchanged glances and had one of their silent conversations. “Please say something.”

You sit on the bed; afraid they are not happy about the development.

“Steve?” You sniff. “You wanted more than one child. Both of you. I remember you said that you want to have another one.”

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, angrily looking at Steve.

“That’s your doing! We wanted to breed her again and now we are already having two kids.” He pouts and harrumphs.

“Buck,” Steve holds back a chuckle but fails. He snorts and holds his tummy. “Babe we can breed her whenever we want to. If these two pop out, we will stuff her full of cum again.”

You lick your lips. “You’re not mad?”

“Doll, we are happy,” Bucky pats your head, making Steve chuckle. “I’m only mad because we love to breed you.” He hums and drops his hand from your head to grope one tit. “Damn me, Stevie. Do you think she’ll leak even more milk?”

“I don’t know yet,” Steve gets his phone out of his pocket. “Let me do a little research while you cuddle our pregnant fiancé. I’m next, and I want her warmed up and ready for me.”

You smirk. “Cuddling…or cuddling,” you wiggle your eyebrows at Steve who searches the internet for information. “Steve?”

“Let him do his research,” Bucky jumps onto the bed to bury you under his body. He peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle and squeal. “What does your friend Google say?”

“It says that the milk is produced on a demand basis. If you are having twins the suckling of two little shits will tell her breasts to produce more milk,” Steve reads aloud.

“Hey, don’t call my babies little shits!” You grumble while fighting against Bucky’s demanding lips and fingers. “Buck…wait…you…” You giggle. “I need to scold Steve first. Don’t you have anything to say? He called our babies little shits!”

“The doctor said there is a slight chance we both got you pregnant,” Bucky purrs against your neck, before leaving another love bite. “The thought alone makes me rock hard. I need to fuck you both. You’re going to watch me destroy Stevie’s perfect ass after you had your fill.”

“Buck, you are always rock-hard,” Steve grins while watching his husband tug at your clothing. He loves that you are both insatiable. “Go ahead and ruin her cunt all over again. I like watching.”

Bucky lifts his head to smirk at his head. “You dirty bastard,” he playfully says before going back to nip at your neck. “She’s ready for both of us.” He snickers when you whimper in anticipation. “Oh, you’d love that. Right, doll? Stuffed to the brim by two fat cocks.”

“I want to watch you two too,” you whine. “I can’t decide what I want more.” You wrap your legs around Bucky’s waistline to grind against his clothed erection. “Bucky is already so hard, Stevie. Can you help him out?”

Steve cracks his neck. “Anything yet, Jensen? We don’t have all night.” He sighs and rubs his tired eyes.

Jake grins. He heard more than orders today. Your moans and Steve’s grunts echoed through half of the house this morning. When Bucky joined you, Jake believed he ended up in a naughty pornographic movie.

“I get it. With a pretty girl like yours around, I wouldn’t want to waste my time on looking for a cop either.”

Bucky’s features darken. “Careful, Jensen. We don’t want to regret that we trust you with this. Our girl is none of your concern. We want to know if you found the bastard.”

Jake bites his tongue. He’s a cocky man, but not suicidal. The last thing he wants to do is to mess with two of the most dangerous men he ever heard of.

“I did a background check first to find out more about Brock Rumlow. Sometimes you need to take a step back,” he explains. “I know, I know.” Jake hastily says. “You wanted me to find him. I believe it’s more important to find out why he’s obsessed with you.”

“Fine,” Steve sits down and crosses one leg over the other. “Enlighten us, Jensen. It’s your show.”

Part 18

Tags in reblog.

#Indecent Proposal (17.2)#stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x you #steve rogers #bucky barnes #mafia au #female reader #x reader

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lila-lou · 1 year ago

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✨Needy - Pt. 1/5✨

Summary: Jensen finally comes home after weeks of filming and shows you how much he missed you.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Language, smut, pregnant reader

Word Count: 2477

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"How do you feel?".

You were currently laying on your large sofa in the living room, your head resting on your left hand while your right hand caressed your belly.

“I’m fine Jay, really”, you smiled at your boyfriend, who was walking over to you with a beer and an orange juice. He looked beyond tired and exhausted. Not surprising considering he only landed four hours ago.

Austin wasn't known for large snowfalls in the winter, so this exceptional situation had led to complications with flights. Jensen's already long flight landed over three hours late, which didn't help his mood. When he saw his pregnant fiancée curled up on the sofa with a broken rib, he was more than pissed. Jensen had only endured the last few weeks on set because he was clinging to the thought that he would soon be able to hold you in his arms again. You and your unborn baby. You've been calling each other every night for the past two weeks to pass the wait, but not once have you mentioned your broken rib.

“Here you go”, Jensen tried to say as nicely as he could while handing you the orange juice, but all the words that came out of his mouth were mumbled. He actually knew that he shouldn't ruin the evening with a bad mood, but the last few weeks had taken a toll on him and his nerves were frayed. Not only was everything going haywire on set, but he also missed you. You were five months pregnant and he felt like he had already missed everything.

You gratefully accepted the glass and took a long sip before setting it aside. Jensen stared blankly at the television, which was playing a horror movie.

“Hey”, you sighed, taking his free hand in yours. “I just didn’t want to burden you unnecessarily. You were always so worried about me and the Baby and with all the stress on set, I thought you wouldn't have to worry about more. I went to the doctor and it’s not that bad”, you tried to explain yourself, but Jensen just rolled his eyes.

“(y/n), you are carrying our child! Do you really think there is something more important at the moment than you and your well-being?”, he replied, still slightly irritated. Of course Jensen was worried and you loved him more than anything for that, but sometimes he could be really overprotective.

“If I promise you, that I won't withhold anything from you anymore, can we please end the evening somewhat peacefully? You didn’t even kiss me when you came in”, you murmur towards the end. Jensen took a long sip of beer and sighed in resignation. Of course he knew he was acting like an ass and that you absolutely didn't deserve that, but he was just worried and stressed.

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's just... the last few weeks have been really stressful and... I feel like I've already missed so much with the little worm", Jensen admitted a little desperately before gently pulling you into his arms. “Besides, I missed you terribly”, he kissed your head lightly.

“Jay… I’m only five months pregnant. We still have four long and wonderful months ahead of us before things get tricky with you being away. You haven't missed anything yet. Except maybe my morning sickness and trust me, you should be glad you weren't there". You tried your best to lighten the mood a little, even if it really wasn't easy. Slowly but surely you could feel him relax. “I hope so”, he murmured before pulling your face to his and finally placing his lips on yours.

“Now tell me about the shoot”, you whispered against his lips with a big grin. While Jensen started talking about his new colleagues and the set, you made yourself comfortable in his arms and pulled the blanket a little higher.

Almost a year ago you moved in with Jensen. You previously had a pretty stressful long-distance relationship. While you were completing your studies in Seattle, Jensen was mostly in Toronto filming “The Boys”. In his free time, he often took the opportunity to spend time with his three children in Austin. Since he was always on the plane, jumping from appointment to appointment, you were usually the one who visited him. It quickly became clear that Jensen wasn't leaving Austin to move in with you, so you had no choice but to leave Seattle.

Luckily you already liked Austin and settled in very quickly.

Jensen had no plans to have any more children, and you hadn't thought about children either. But after your delayed and somewhat escalated housewarming party, contraception wasn't particularly emphasized.

The moment you finally told Jensen about the pregnancy was probably the worst moment of your life. You were so afraid to tell him that it took you forever to say the words without them being swallowed up by your sobs.

Of course, Jensen was anything but enthusiastic, after all, he already had three wonderful children and after his divorce from Danneel, he was happy to take things a little slower with you. However, it didn't take long for him to come to terms with the idea of becoming a father for the fourth time. He still had bad days every now and then where he worried it would all be too much, but overall, he did very well. And now he couldn't wait to finally hold the little munchkin in his arms.

While Jensen told you about his time on set, now in more detail than on the phone, his hand, somewhat distracted, stroked your small baby bump.

“Are you coming to the doctor’s appointment tomorrow? My doctor said we might be able to tell the gender”. Jensen continued to hold you tightly in his arms, your legs crossed over his lap and your head resting lightly on his biceps as he looked down at you.

“Of course, I’ll come”, he kissed your nose. “It’s just the three of us for the next two weeks”. His gaze moved from your eyes down to your belly.

“Is it kicking yet?”, Jensen’s eyes sparkled slightly. You'd think that after three kids he would already know it all, but unfortunately, he was on set for most of his ex-wife's two pregnancies and so wasn't as involved as he would have liked.

“Well, I definitely feel the movements, but they are hardly real kicks. In about 6 weeks you should be able to feel the kicks”, you told him as you watched his hand move in light circles over your belly.

After a while Jensen looked up again. “Being pregnant suits you”, he grinned at you, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

“You know how to make a woman blush”, you replied, playfully hitting his chest.

Jensen leaned down to you and pressed his lips lightly to the spot under your ear.

“I know damn well how to make a woman come too”, he whispered harshly to you.

You couldn't help but press your thighs together as a shiver ran down your spine. Despite the fact that you had been together for so long, Jensen still had a strong effect on you. "You think so?", You breathed as he started kissing your neck.

You giggled, your breath hitching slightly. You did not receive an immediate response. Instead, Jensen pulled you onto his lap in one quick movement. As you straddled his legs, he grabbed your ass somewhat roughly with both hands and pushed you closer to him. His lips slid down your neck, leaving wet kisses behind.

“It’s been far too long, sweetheart,” he murmured deeply, his breath hot against your soft skin.

While he kept one hand flat on your lower back, he slipped his other hand into your sweatpants before leaning in to kiss you.

“Actually, I imagined our reunion a little differently”, you whispered against his slightly parted lips, which only lightly touched yours. “With fancy and hot underwear, you know?”.

Jensen couldn't help but laugh lightly, but he stopped with a deep moan when he felt how wet you already were. “Shit baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping”, he grinned slightly arrogant. If you weren't so incredibly turned on, you probably would have rolled your eyes. Jensen gently rubbed his fingertips over your soaked clit, making you moan immediately.

“Jensen”, you whined as he continued to tease your clit.

Your eyes were barely open, but you knew Jensen was grinning to himself. You could feel it on your lips.

“Pleaaaase,” you grabbed his thighs and leaned back further so he could get a perfect angle, despite your little baby bump.

“I´ve got you”, he grinned, slipping his middle finger inside you. A soft gasp escaped you as Jensen curled his finger and hit your sweet spot. As he added a second finger, you dug your nails into his skin. “Fuck”, you let out a throaty moan.

“You’re even tighter than usual, baby. I guess I really left you alone for too long”. Your eyes were closed as you were completely absorbed in the feeling your fiancé was giving you.

“Ugh… you did”, you agreed as your eyes met.

With a jerk he pushed your upper body closer to his again and pulled his fingers out of you. No matter how much he loved teasing you, it had been far too long since the last time he could truly feel you.

His arms wrapped tightly around you as he pressed his lips to yours again. “Shit, I missed you so much”, Jensen murmured against your lips, making your heart beat faster.

“I missed you too”, you answered barely audible.

Within seconds, Jensen laid you on your back, tugging your sweatpants and panties off your legs before kneeling on the sofa in front of you, looking at you expectantly. “Touch yourself”, he ordered before you watched as he deftly unbuckled his belt. He loved watching you, almost as much as you loved watching him.

Even though you did this a thousand times, you couldn't stop the blush from rising on your face.

Nevertheless, your fingers found their way to your wet heat as if by themselves. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you felt your own wetness. You carefully dip a finger inside yourself, making you breath heavily. By now Jensen already had his throbbing erection in his hand.

“Just like this Babygirl”, he groaned, switching his gaze between your heated face and your spread legs. Your head fell back into the soft couch cushions as you adjusted to the feeling of your finger sliding through your wet folds. Jensen tried everything to hold onto himself and watch you longer, but the desire to bury himself inside you overwhelmed him.

“Fuck it”, he muttered, freeing himself from his jeans and boxers before leaning over you and pressing his lips greedily to yours. You could already feel his hardness against your pussy when Jensen broke the kiss to take off your shirt. “Fuck, they’ve gotten huge”, he whispered as he massaged your left breast over your bra. You couldn't help but grin when you saw his lustful look. “Do you want to keep talking and teasing or finally start fucking me, Ackles?”, you challenged him, your hands sliding under his shirt and tugging at the hem impatiently.

“So needy”, he grinned down at you, pulling his shirt over his head so you could immediately run your hands over his strong chest and broad shoulders before pulling him closer to you by his biceps.

“I’m going to fuck your tight pussy so good”, he groaned, hovering over you again as he took his cock in his hand and lined himself up with your wet folds.

You shuddered as he pushed himself into you until he bottomed out, stretching you almost painfully and letting out the deepest moan you've ever heard.

"Shit honey, you´re okay?", he chuckled, but actually looked a little worried. It took a few seconds until you found your breath and therefore your voice again. "Yeah... I just... almost forgot how big you are", you admitted.

“Well, after tonight you won’t forget it in a hurry”, he winked at you with a grin.

With that, he withdrew completely and spread your wetness with his tip, sliding it between your glistening folds. Jensen's gaze was literally glued between your legs and you could see in his eyes how much that turned him on. “Jay…please,” you begged, wiggling your hips, trying so hard to get him back in. He responded instantly to your requests and pushed his swollen cock into you again, making you moan loudly. As he thrusted into you harder than he had since you were pregnant, he firmly grabbed your hips and pushed them up from the soft fabric of the couch to thrust into you from a better angle. He hit your sweet spot over and over again, which had got you close within a few minutes. “Jay… I’m…”, your hands grip his wrist as you arch your back desperately. "I know, baby. Just a few more minutes", he moaned, watching your breast bounce in your bra with every hard thrust he gave you. Your lips met again, taking the breath away from both of you. You could feel his hot breath in your mouth again and again as he tried to suppress his moans. “You’re so fucking tight, baby”, he groaned against your swollen lips.

By now you were just mumbling pleas and desperately wanted him to allow you to come.

“Cum for me (y/n)”, his lips trailed down your neck, sucking on your delicate skin. Those few words were all you needed to squeeze his cock even tighter. With loud moans and closed eyes, you finally came.

“Fuck baby”, his voice cracked as he felt you clenching around him.

Seconds later, you could feel him spilling his cum inside you as his head fell back down on your shoulder. His deep moan against your collarbone sends shivers down your spine, creating even more sparks in your stomach as you live out the rest of your orgasm.

It took you both quite a while to catch your breath, still overwhelmed by the feeling.

Jensen held his position a little longer. When you finally felt your heart stop racing, you let out a quiet chuckle, brought on by your thoughts, which you immediately said out loud. “I’m not on the pill”, you whispered, stroking strands of his soft hair while his face was still buried in the croock of your neck.

"Well, I can't knock you up any more than I already did, can I?", he grinned and slowly raised his head.

“I guess not”, you grin, pulling his face to yours and kissing him gently.

“I really missed you”, he whispered as your eyes met.

Part2

#jensen ackles #spn #dean winchester #smut #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #pregnant

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zepskies · 11 months ago

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About Dark Angel...

Not me already falling for Alec's smart-dumbass. 😭

Like because of his training and genetics he's highly intelligent, but he's also reckless and cocky and ughhhh I just wanna smush his face. 🤣❤️‍🔥

And kinda want to write something for him now...

(fuq!! Yet another WIP in my brain. 🤪)

#this man child #my God #dark angel #alec mcdowell #jensen ackles #future WIP?#God I need to stop #alec mcdowell x reader #alex mcdowell x you

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castiwls · 8 months ago

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stanford - s.w

Pairing; Sam & Sister!reader

Synopsis; Your younger brother has a big question

Warnings; None

Notes; A few ppl asked for this so here it is :) I guess this is part of a Middle!child au which I'm debating on making I lowkey really love writing this dynamic! Also requests for platonic and romantic are open just check my request page on my account

Masterlist | Middle!child headcanons

It wasn’t abnormal for your little brother to ask if you would come to eat with him after school. It was almost like a small tradition between you, Sam, and Dean that you would both meet him at whatever high school he was currently in every Friday and walk to the nearest diner. Doing this was the only sense of routine that you had ever found in your life.

This time was different though. Firstly Sam had asked you to come alone, something which struck you as strange but nevertheless, you showed up alone at his school, much to his relief. You’d also noticed Sam was more shifty than normal. On the walk to the diner, you’d both chatted as normal, but you’d noticed how your brother seemed to be fiddling with something in his pocket. Even now as you both sat waiting for your food you could still see him fiddling with his pocket.

“Sam, what's wrong?” You asked breaking the silence between the two of you. Sam looked up, his eyes slightly wide as he looked at you. He opened his mouth a few times before shaking his head. “If I tell you this promise you won’t tell Dad…or Dean.”

You frowned slightly at his words. Not telling your dad you could understand but Dean? That was new. “That depends…no ones in danger are they?” You tilted your head slightly. Sam quickly shook his head. “No. No one’s in danger.” He laughed slightly. “Nothing dangerous I promise.”

You nodded smiling at him. “So what is it?” You leaned forward slightly on the table. Sam seemed to mull over something for a moment before hesitantly reaching for something out of his pocket. Slowly he pushed a small pamphlet towards you.

You looked at the pamphlet and then back to him. Sam looked away fiddling with his jacket as he seemingly waited for you to read the pamphlet. Sucking in a breath you pulled the pamphlet towards you opening it.

As you read your eyes widened slightly in shock. You briefly looked to Sam who was still occupied with his jacket before looking back down to the paper. “Stanford? Really?” You placed the small pamphlet down. “Sam, this is amazing.” You grinned reaching over to grab his hand.

A look of relief crossed his face as he visibly relaxed. He laughed slightly looking down at the pamphlet. “My teacher thinks it’s possible.” He spoke. “She thinks I have the grades to apply through the college to get a full ride.” You nodded. You couldn’t help but widen the grin on your face at the thought of your brother being smart enough for Stanford. This was huge.

Sam had mentioned his interest in Law and you’d happily listened and encouraged him to read more into it but you’d never expected this. Sam nodded to the pamphlet. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won’t sign it.”

You inspected the pamphlet again for a moment. “If I sign this you have a shot at Stanford?”

Your younger brother nodded a look of hope in his eyes.

You were quiet for a moment as you considered the information. You knew your Dad would flip if he ever found out about Sam’s hopes for the future, but he would flip even more if he found out that his own daughter and gone behind his back and signed off on something this large.

But at the same time sitting here now seeing your brother's eyes full of hope pulled at your heart. You wanted nothing more than for your brothers to be happy and if going to Stanford was what would make Sam happy then you were not going to stand in his way. You nodded to yourself before looking back to Sam.

This was his way out. His way of getting that normal life you so wanted him to have.

“Of course, I’ll sign it.”

#supernatural #sam winchester #spn #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester headcanon #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #supernatural x reader #.mine #.spn #.middle!child

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yourmomxx · 2 years ago

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*Dean teaching y/n how to drive*

Dean: So, John and Mary are walking down the street in front of you, what do you hit?

Y/N: the breaks.

Dean: very good.

Cas *singing quietly in the back*: I took a left, swerved, then I took a right-

#this was funnier in my head #supernatural incorrect quotes #supernatural shitpost #cw supernatural #supernatural destiel #incorrect supernatural quotes #dean winchester #dean winchester x child!reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x castiel #dean winchester x reader #castiel #castiel imagine #john winchester #mary winchester #jensen ackles #misha collins

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ohtobeleah · 10 months ago

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]

Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.6K

Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister.

“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?”

“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed.

“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–”

Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise.

“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.”

“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities.

“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.”

Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure.

“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was.

“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.”

“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.

“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.”

“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin.

“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids.

“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you.

“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind.

“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?”

Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it.

“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?”

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk.

“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.”

Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes.

He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it.

“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?”

“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”

“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–”

Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by.

“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–”

The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years.

“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out.

“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–”

“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.

Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later.

“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.”

“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!”

Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table.

“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.”

“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–”

Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened.

“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now.

“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.”

You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him.

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.”

“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.”

“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.”

Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged.

“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love.

“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?”

“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.”

“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear.

“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.”

“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.”

“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’

“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis.

“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?”

“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish.

Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke.

“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.”

Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person.

Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself.

“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.”

Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel.

“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!”

“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.”

“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought.

“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.”

“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore.

Fuck….

“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.”

“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side.

“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.”

“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.”

“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response.

“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter.

Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes.

“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.”

“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“

“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.”

“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.”

Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way.

“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.

“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given.

“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 months ago

Text

Worth The Wait: Part One

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey so every one know that Jensen like Batman, so i have this ideas where the reader is Jensen wife and popular actress who is casted to play Cat woman with Robert Pattinson or other one and the reader never tell Jensen because she want to be a surprise or something like that and she bring him to the premiere where was the Batmobile and him was just fanboy? Fluffy between Jensen and reader

Summary: You've been working on a movie you know Jensen will love to see, so you've managed to keep it from him until the world premiere. Now it's your chance to unveil the surprise.

Square Filled: hereditary for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: we're all gonna pretend that the movie Batman v Superman had Catwoman in it. okay? okay.

This all started when your great-grandmother got scouted to be in short films in the early 1900s. Actresses weren't a big thing back then but someone took one look at her and knew she was meant to be on the big screen, whatever that meant back then. She was known all throughout the state as a big-time actress even though all the things she was in were silent films. She had a great facial profile that really embodied everything she was thinking and feeling. She started young but that’s what people did back then. They started their professions at a young age.

When your grandmother was born in 1934, your great-grandmother was already moving on to bigger and better things. She starred in the movie It Happened One Night, The Thin Man, and MGM’s musical/romance adaptation of Cat and the Fiddle. Those were just to name a few. Your grandmother saw what she was doing and wanted to follow in her footsteps, doing everything she could do be in television, the big screen, and in theater.

She got her big break when she got cast in Treasure Island and Fantasia with Disney. She got acting gig after acting gig until she had your mother in 1954. She took a few years off to be with her family but got right back into it. Your mother had a knack for theater and did her time on Broadway more than she did in film. She starred in musicals like Applause, Fiddler on the Roof, Annie, Sweeny Todd, and Grease.

She had you in 1989, and you started singing and acting at a very young age. You got into commercials and TV shows from the get-go. Probably because you come from a line of Tony, Oscar, and Emmy winners. You tried not to let your line of succession lead you to getting good parts, but you’ve managed to get a small role in Jurrasic Park as a child, and into much bigger roles in Charlie’s Angels, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Saw I, Avatar, The Hunger Games, and many more.

You worked your ass off to be where you are today, and you’re actually working on putting your own album out because you’re striving to be the first EGOT winner in your family. You’ve gotten one Tony Award, too-many-to-count Oscars, and two Emmy awards.

To think you were the shy theater kid who only sang in front of people if you were starring in a play at school. After graduation, you got into a good acting school even though you didn’t really need it, but you still welcomed the challenge they put you through, even starring in most of the plays there. Now you’re a thirty-five-year-old woman with awards like no other, a husband who is just incredible, and an amazing career that is nowhere close to being done.

Your husband is also an actor, a big one for Supernatural. He’s been nothing short of amazing and you’re so proud of him and his work. It sucked at the beginning of his career since you two barely saw each other but the longer you did this, the more you settled into your own groove. You got to take the time off to be with each other a lot more.

You get to go to conventions with him and he gets to go to movie premieres with you. There is nothing you’d trade for this little life of yours. Speaking of movie premiers, you just got done filming your movie Batman vs Superman where you played Catwoman, but you refused to tell your husband anything about it. He is a big Batman fan, and if you were to surprise him with a Batman premier, he’d go feral. Jensen respected you enough to not go snooping when he knew you wanted this to be a surprise, and his friends respected you enough to not tell him about it.

Jenson has been bouncing in his seat since he entered the limo, and you’ve been watching with a wide smile on your face. When the limo gets to the red carpet, Jensen gasps at seeing everything Batman.

“Surprise! I’m Catwoman!”

“You got to be in a room with Batman?”

You two leave the Limo and smile at the cameras flashing in your face. Jensen doesn’t care if he looks like a little kid, he is going to be excited over anything Batman (even though you’re a tad more of a Marvel girl than DC). You’re trying to get in on one of their projects so fingers crossed! There is a section before the red carpet where people can take pictures with a real-life prop of the Batmobile.

Jensen loses his shit and rushes over with a giant smile on his face. You don’t care if a million people are watching or if it’s just you two, but you’ll always love the way he gets excited over things. He gets his picture taken with the Batmobile alone and then with you, and you pull him off to the side with a smile on your face.

“Is this a good surprise? Was it worth the wait?”

“So worth the wait. This is amazing.” Jensen leans in to kiss you but stops with a gasp. “Is that Michael Keaton?”

Jensen’s favorite Batman is Michael Keaton.

“Yeah, he showed up on set a few times. He’s a nice guy!”

“I’m nervous. Should I go up to him?”

“Yeah. He won’t bite,” you chuckle.

You escort Jensen over to Michael who is more than happy to talk to your husband. He hasn’t been this happy and excited in a while, and you’re glad to be part of it.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles fiction #jensen ackles fan fiction #jensen ackles fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fluff

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thebiggerbear · 5 months ago

Text

"You're safe now. I'm here." - Russell Shaw Prompt Response Part 1

Summary: You've been taken hostage and Russell is part of the unit sent in to retrieve you.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

A/N: This is a prompt from @sydnee-kom-spacekru that I had to turn into a two-parter because it got way too long for just one posting. I've been working on this since May 19th when I decided to add Russell to the multi-character prompt response project I'm currently working on.

For this story, I chose Colombia as the country featured in here because I remember when we were growing up, we would ask our parents why we couldn't visit our cousins from there, and we were told it was too dangerous. As we grew older, we obviously found out why. That's the only reason I chose it for that part of the story. Obviously, I'm not making any statements, political or otherwise, about Colombia or any past/present situation happening there.

A little bit of a disclaimer: I do not work in the medical field so I apologize for any inconsistencies, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. I did my best to research but ultimately, I'm not trained in that industry. I also am not in the military, political, or governmental fields. I also am not the CEO of a major corporation. I utilized those parts of the story strictly for fictional purposes. So I apologize in advance again if I get anything incorrect for those fields.

All unbeta'd.

Part 2 (coming very soon)

WARNINGS: graphic violence; attempted sexual assault; trauma; graphic blood/injury; gun violence/gunfire; mentions of dead bodies; death; mentions of execution; kidnapping/hostage situation; PTSD; angst

Word Count: 11k+

“You’re safe now, I’m here.”

Soldier Boy version ✨ SDV Leah version

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You slowly glanced around the room you were being held in. You winced when the pain in your head started up again from the movement. You knew you had some cuts on your face, your lip, and one near your hairline. One of the people who had taken you and your co-workers hostage had shouted at you in Spanish and worked you over a little. You understood most of what he had screamed but you had no answers for him.

You and your team had come down to visit the Bogota office upon the insistence of your father. The company his grandfather had started decades prior had expanded to become one of the top corporations in the United States, eventually branching out internationally. Growing up, you hadn’t wanted for anything. As you got older and entered high school, your father made it clear to you, being his only child, that he wanted you to follow in his footsteps and take over the family business one day. It wasn’t exactly what you’d dreamed of but it had been made known from the outset that whatever you might want would never matter in the scheme of things. Not when it came to the importance of legacy and carrying on the family name and the company’s brand, all while working closely with the Board. So, you had pursued your business degree in college at an Ivy League school, even going so far as to achieve your MBA and make your father proud.

You were quickly welcomed into the company and you put your nose to the grindstone, worked hard, and began to climb the corporate ladder. A lot of people knew that had to do with your last name but they also saw you working the same long hours as them, working just as much, and sacrificing any semblance of a personal life you could have had. You didn’t even have plants in your lavish city apartment because you were practically never there to water them. Weekends were a concept that ceased to exist the moment you left the university. If your co-workers worked 60-hour work weeks, you worked 80. If they worked through holidays like Memorial Day and July 4th, you worked those days, too, in addition to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. So you earned some respect, some envy, and some resentment — a healthy mix of it all as you raced to the top at your father’s constant prodding.

Only a year ago, you’d moved to Manhattan to run the New York office, a promotion that had your father beaming with pride. It was a bit of a transition, as any transition would be, but ultimately, you got to know your team, your department heads, and you’d settled in as best you could. You never truly relaxed into your role but you let your employees know up front that you were there to make things easier, not more difficult. You were interested in flooding the figurative harbor so everyone’s boats would rise, not just yours or the Board’s. Your father had not appreciated that little introductory speech you had made but you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret it. You had meant every word and you set out every single day to not only prove yourself but to also make that vision come true.

Which was partially what had brought you to the Bogota office. While you were responsible for New York, your father had made the valid point that you should travel to the international offices of Bogota, London, and Beijing. You should show your face and introduce yourself in person, not just on Zoom. You had been hesitant, not because you didn’t want to visit the sites and meet the crews, but because you still didn’t feel confident that you could afford to be away from your home office for that long (it would be about a two and a half week trip). Not because you didn’t trust your team to run things without you but because you had several projects in the works that required your constant participation, feedback, approval, and sometimes guidance. It felt strange to put it all at risk by choosing the most inopportune moment for you to go shake hands on the international stage and take tours of the other facilities. You didn’t want to leave your team in a lurch at a dire time such as this one. You had tried to explain all of this to your father when he grew irritated at your resistance.

“Stop with the excuses. You’re going and that’s final,” he had snapped at you before leaving your office. And that had been that.

The next morning, you and a few selected co-workers (handpicked by your father) were on a flight to Bogota, the first stop on your international tour. Thankfully, Colombia was only one hour behind New York so you’d be able to check in with your office as soon as you landed.

Things were going well with your visit, right up until the moment you and your team were leaving the building to head back to the hotel for a late lunch when you were ambushed. A black hood had been thrown over your head, you’d felt pain as something hit you from the side, and the next thing you knew, you woke up in a vehicle that you could feel and hear but not see. You had no idea what happened until you were instructed in Spanish to shut up, stay quiet and not struggle, and you wouldn’t get hurt. You knew you were in trouble when you came to but now you knew without a doubt as you listened to the conversation between the men surrounding you, you had been taken hostage.

You had no idea where they had brought you but you’d been there for what felt like a month though you couldn’t be sure. You had been held in the same room, only able to use the bathroom which they escorted you to. You were in some compound and any time you’d tried to sneak a peek out of an open window during your bathroom treks, you either got yelled at and hit or you could only make out a thick cover of trees. You and your group had been terrified every single day of your captivity that they would kill you all, or worse. You had three men in your group and four women including you. One of the kidnappers had already tried to take advantage of that fact and had thrown Meredith from Finance onto the floor, unbuckling his pants. You had begged in Spanish for her to be left alone while Pat and Suzanne had cried and screamed. Tim, Jerry, and Rob had all been taken to the bathroom beforehand (something that hadn’t happened before, they usually took the guys one at a time) so it had been just you four in the room. When the man didn’t show any signs of stopping and Meredith tearfully begged him from the floor to let her be, something switched off in your brain and you flew at him. You attempted to hit him anywhere you could but he knocked you down flat in seconds. He backhanded you a couple of times, making the women in the background scream louder, and he then decided you were going to be the one he was going to assault instead. He ripped your shirt and you tried to fight him off but he was too strong. Thankfully, another kidnapper heard all of the commotion and came running, rushing into the room and stopping the man, yelling at him that none of you were to be touched, that was part of the deal. Your would-be assailant yelled back at the man who had saved you and then got to his feet, spitting on you, as he stormed out of the room, followed by your unintentional savior.

You attempted to cover yourself with the shreds of your shirt but it was useless. You now only had a bra and little bits of cloth left from how violently he had torn the fabric. You were shaking but somehow you were able to crawl your way over to Meredith to check on her. Sobbing, she held onto you and before you knew it, Pat and Suzanne had rushed over, throwing their arms around you both, still crying themselves but also trying to speak reassurances to you both. Your body shook in their embrace as it finally hit you how close you had come to being assaulted. If that other man hadn’t interrupted when he did… You shuddered at the thought. It wasn’t long after that when Tim, Jerry, and Rob were returned to the room, their hoods removed, and one glance in your direction let them know immediately what had happened. Rob had actually removed his shirt and offered it to you, apologizing for the smell. You appreciated his selfless gesture but you were thankful when Tim instead offered up the windbreaker pullover he had been wearing the day you had been taken. You took the latter, thanking them both for their generosity and thoughtfulness. Tim at least still had his t-shirt.

Then, a couple of days later, you had been dragged from the room, thrust into a chair, and tied up. The questioning began, about the money from your company among other things, and you were worked over when they didn’t get the answers they wanted. You hadn’t noticed a man holding a smartphone while sitting in the corner, taking in every second of the torture you endured, until your interrogation ended. You had been afraid but seeing that phone…you were absolutely terrified. Were they going to kill you on video, sending it off to media outlets to share globally for your father to see? Or would they use social media?

They didn’t end up killing you, though. Instead, they brought you to a room with a single bed that you had never seen before. You did not like the fact that you had been separated from your group. You began to hyperventilate at the realization that they were isolating you for a purpose, thinking you would be attacked again, especially when you heard a loud gunshot reverberate from outside followed by yelling that you couldn’t quite make out. But instead of anyone coming to hurt you, they sent in a doctor to tend to your wounds. Once he had, you curled up into a ball and hugged your knees to your chest, waiting for the worst to happen, intent on fighting tooth and nail when the time came. But a few days later or however long it had been, they brought you back into the interrogation room again.

You expected the blows this time though they still hurt horribly. They began to cut you on your arms, near your neck, your shoulders, your torso…they never cut your face, though. While you were grateful for that small mercy, they still beat the hell out of you, the worst they ever had. While your face may have been spared the cutting, it was not spared the hits. You had even taken a couple of hard blows to the head that left you reeling. You didn’t even remember if you had screamed, cried, or begged for them to stop. Instead, you remembered some random saying in some movie you had seen stating that pain was the way you knew you were still alive. You held onto that as they continued to inflict as much damage as they could without actually killing you or making it impossible for you to speak. They had even unzipped Tim’s pullover at the beginning of the torture, leaving you in your bra, and besides the cuts they had also landed punches to your already severely bruised stomach and sides. They had even stomped on your bare feet, making you cry out as some of your toes broke from the force. They had even taken a bat to your right knee. That time you screamed the loudest you ever had in your life, sobbing so hard you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop. The pain was immense, something you hadn’t felt before, and tears poured down your face, mixing with the blood dripping from a busted lip and most likely broken nose. When they stopped to take a break, it didn’t surprise you in the least that the same man with the phone from last time was there in the same corner. It did surprise you, though, that they didn’t leave. While you figured they were just ramping up to go for a second round, something told you that you may not come out alive from this particular interrogation. You could only hope the others you had been brought here with somehow did. A small part of you wondered if the reason they were going harder on you this time, possibly about to kill you on video, is because your company didn’t pay the sum demanded in the last one. You knew your father must have done everything he could to secure your release, even if the Board for some reason hadn’t. You hadn’t prayed since you were a girl, right before your mother died, but you sent a silent one up anyway to anyone who might be listening that your father would never see this footage. It would destroy him if he did. You didn’t expect much, though. Your mom had still passed away from a terminal illness, so you were pretty sure your father wouldn’t be spared seeing your last moments like this.

But instead of starting back up again as you anticipated, the men ended up stepping outside of the room though they left the phone behind, on some sort of stand, still pointing in your direction.

So now here you were, your body exhausted yet radiating nothing but pain. You slowly swung your head around in a daze, blinking against the bright light they had turned on before leaving. You waited for them to come back, to finally do their worst and possibly end your life. You were terrified but you also knew how badly injured you were, that there was nothing you could do. Even if you could somehow get loose, how would you manage to escape? Even if you got outside, this compound was heavily patrolled by armed guards. And even if by some miracle you could get past them without being seen or an alarm being sounded when your absence was discovered, you had no idea where you were. You were in the jungle for Christ’s sake, from the brief glimpses you’d managed to catch on your bathroom runs. You had no idea where to go from here. Still, though, you heard that small voice inside your head, telling you to fight, not to give in or give up. You had to work hard, be the best, and prove yourself. Go, go, go. The voice sounded strangely like your father’s.

As you waited for your captors to come back, you glanced around the room to see if there was anything that could help you. You attempted to move your arms but gasped in pain when you did. You didn’t even try anything with your right leg. You knew your kneecap was broken; it had to be. You chanced moving your left leg, though, but it didn’t budge. You were stuck to this chair.

Suddenly, you heard the last thing you expected. Gunfire.

Not that gunfire was all that unusual around here. You had heard some happen during your captivity but it was short and never answered. You and your co-workers had no idea what went on in the rest of the compound but after hearing those rounds being fired every so often, you didn’t really want to know.

But these were extended rapid bursts of gunfire and someone was definitely shooting back. Not to mention all of the furious yelling you could hear down the hall. You idly wondered if one of your people got free and they were making a break for it. If it was, you hoped they got free and were able to go for help.

You knew you should be scared as the gunshots got closer to you, when you heard more yells and some thuds right outside your door, but you simply resigned yourself to your fate. Especially when one of the kidnappers burst into the room and held a gun to your head, yelling in Spanish at an unseen person to stay back or he would kill you. Your body began to shake uncontrollably once more, thinking this was it. You knew it; you were going to die.

Two men swept into the room, dressed in tactical-looking gear and donning black face masks with holes only for eyes and mouths, assault rifles pointed in your captor’s direction. The man on your right told him to let you go in Spanish or he would be dead before he could squeeze a round off.

The man on your left briefly glanced at you, his gaze an assessing one, before focusing back onto his target. Your captor screamed at them and pushed the gun into your temple, making you shake harder and take shallow breaths.

“You got him?” The man on the left asked, surprising you when you heard him speak English. He sounded…American.

“I got him,” the man on the right answered. Another American.

The kidnapper must have understood them because he gripped your head and pulled it back, pushing his gun now into the side of your face, making you scream out in pain. You heard a gunshot and suddenly the barrel against your cheek was gone as was the pressure around your head. A loud thud sounded as your captor’s body fell to the ground behind you and you moved your head to a position that didn’t hurt so much.

The two men were suddenly there, the one on the left laying a hand on your shoulder. “Please…don’t hurt me,” you begged in a raspy whisper. You followed it up with the same plea in Spanish, still not sure who you were exactly dealing with as your head swam.

“Hey,” the left soldier spoke softly. “Look at me.”

You did the best you could. It shocked you to see green eyes staring back at you with something that looked like kindness. Kindness…you hadn’t seen that in what felt like forever. Considering you’d only seen hatred and disgust from everyone around you since this whole ordeal started, this was something new and you held onto it with all of your might.

“We’re here to get you out. Just hold on.” He pulled out a switchblade and you immediately gasped and began to shake again. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just cutting the ropes,” he explained gently as he did it. “See?” You carefully moved your head to gaze down, seeing that he was indeed doing as he said.

Once you were free, you began to slide off of the chair, unable to sit up right due to your head still swimming. The movement caused you to cry out in pain from your injured knee being jostled when he caught you and lifted your arm around his shoulders to gently help you back into your original seated position. Your body still shaking, your brain told you that he was telling you the truth and he had just proved it, but you were still terrified and unsure of what to believe — no matter how kind his eyes were. “Shh, you’re safe now. I’m here and I’m going to get you out. I’m guessing they did a number on your legs?” He frowned down at your bloody feet.

“My knee,” you quietly sobbed, the pain still radiating throughout your right leg. “They—they broke it.”

“Shit,” he muttered, studying the leg you had glanced at.

In the background, you noticed the other man grab the smartphone and slip it into his pocket before heading back over in your direction. “What are we doing, man? Grab her and let’s go. Clock’s ticking.”

The man crouched in front of you looked up at the other one. “She can’t walk.” He inclined his head in the direction of your knee. “We’re going to have to carry her out.”

“Fucking hell,” the other one hissed. “Maybe we can get in touch with the chopper and get an evac.”

The man in front of you shook his head. “No, this is supposed to be a quick in and out. We have to get to the extraction point. They’re not coming for us.” So maybe these two were soldiers? They sounded like they might be military. Had your father somehow managed to get the government to send the US military in to rescue you?

“But, there’s no way we can—”

“No time for this, man. We’ve got to move now before reinforcements arrive.” Your rescuer turned back to you. “Alright, listen, I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell. I’m going to try my best to take it easy on you but we have to get you out of here now.”

You shook your head, causing tears to roll down your face. You wouldn’t admit it but you were as scared of the pain as you were to go out into the chaos you still heard happening outside of the room you were in.

He laid his hand on your shoulder again and locked gazes with you. “We have to do this. I told you before. I’m here to get you out and that means I’m not leaving without you.” He very gently rubbed at your shoulder in reassurance. “So, just try to relax and I’ll—” He carefully tried to slip his free hand underneath your legs and gingerly lift them but the movement caused you to scream in pain.

“Okay, okay,” your soldier soothed and backed off.

The other soldier was shaking his head. “We are so fucked.”

“Hey, we’re not.” Your guy turned to give him a sharp look. “Just give me a second with her.”

The other one let out an aggravated sigh and impatiently pointed to his watch before holding his rifle up and leaving the room.

Your soldier glanced back at you. “Okay. Time for some real talk. We’ve got about seventeen minutes to get to the extraction point which is out of this place and up the hill on the north side. Which would be, not exactly a cakewalk because it would still be tough, but if you were able to use your legs and we were running, we’d probably make it there in the next fifteen despite any resistance we might encounter. But, this is—”

“Going to slow you down,” you choked out. “I’m not going to make it.” More tears rolled down your cheeks, stinging when they came into contact with your injuries. If you had to be left behind, you knew you would die. No question about it.

“Hey,” he spoke softer than he had a moment ago. “I told you I’m not leaving here without you and I meant it. So don’t go thinking anything like that.” His eyes narrowed slightly as your head became too heavy to try to hold up. His hand was suddenly behind your neck, helping you, as he visually inspected one of the wounds at your hairline. “Dammit,” you heard him mutter. “Okay, I’m getting you out of here.”

He bent down to scoop you up but you grabbed onto his uniform, gripping a bit of the fabric in your fingers though it hurt to do so. He turned to look at you and you shook your head, whimpering. “Please,” you begged.

He reached up with a gloved hand and gently wiped under your eyes with his thumb. “I’m sorry but I have to. If I don’t…” He didn’t finish that sentence but he didn’t need to; the concern you saw in his green gaze said more than enough, and confirmed what he had already told you. “I know the pain is going to be a bitch and a half, but you’ve got to push through as best you can. I’ll carry you and get you to that chopper, I promise, but I need you to hold on. If you have to cry, scream, hell, even bite down on me, you do whatever you’ve got to do. But we’re doing this and we’re doing it now. You ready?”

“N-No.” Your voice wobbled a little bit but you heard him. You were going to try your best but you were still scared of the impending pain. “I’ll try.”

“Atta girl.” He gently positioned you as close to him as possible, zipping up the pullover that your captors had left open, and then carefully placed his free arm under your legs again. You got ready for the pain and whimpered again when he got ready to lift you. “I promise, after this, we’ll get that knee looked at, and that head injury, as soon as we get you someplace safe. Hey, look at me.” You struggled to meet his eyes but when you did, you saw the kindness from earlier staring back at you. “You’ve got this. You’ve made it this far and you’re going to make it all the way. I’m going to make sure you do.”

“Okay,” you whispered, afraid to speak any louder when the threat of the impending pain. Almost as if you spoke a half a decibel higher, you might make it hurt worse than it already was going to. It didn’t make sense but you weren’t exactly thinking straight right then.

You held onto the outer edge of his vest, wincing at the flare up of pain in your hand, as ready as you could possibly be in that moment.

He gave you another second, a brief respite from what was to come, and then a nod. “Alright, here we go.”

The man slowly lifted you and it hurt, sure, but what really hurt was when gravity did its work when he carefully got to his feet. You couldn’t help but cry out. You immediately stuck your thumb knuckle into your mouth and bit down, hoping this would all be over very soon.

The other soldier appeared in the doorway, having heard your cries. Your soldier took a few steps towards him, forcing you to bite harder into your skin and more tears to roll down your cheeks. “Let’s get moving. Call the bird and let them know we’re on our way.” The man nodded and turned, speaking to someone to let them know you were about to leave the compound and would need backup on the way.

When he turned around and gave you both a nod, your soldier held you a little closer to him. “You take point and lead us out. We’re good.” He then turned a reassuring smile on you. “Aren’t we?”

You wanted to answer him but you couldn’t. He hadn’t even started really moving yet and already the pain was agonizing. Instead, you carefully laid your head on his shoulder, feeling pure exhaustion wash over you that left an even foggier trace behind in your mind.

“Let’s do this.” Your soldier looked back towards the door and began to follow his fellow soldier out of the room. You gasped from the pain, bit into your flesh harder, and ignored the tears spilling onto your face. You weren’t going to be able to hold back the pained cries for long. You had no idea how you weren’t screaming at this point.

As you all turned down a hallway, you couldn’t help but think of the others and that provided a momentary distraction. “What about—my people?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“Already extracted,” he whispered. “Now it’s your turn, Y/N.”

You were still fighting your way through a misty fog of pain and sluggishness but that caught your attention. You released your thumb and stuttered out, “You know my name.”

“Of course I know your name. We came here for you.” He shot you a wink and then proceeded to carefully make his way down the stairs after the way forward was cleared.

You idly wondered about that as you held onto him, noting several dead bodies in your peripherals but refusing to look straight at them. You could hear him huffing and puffing next to you and you felt badly that he had to carry you because you were unable to walk. A couple of times, he had to stop and hunker down with you while the other soldier engaged the remaining kidnappers you came across. The third time, it was a struggle for you but you whispered, “Slowing you down. Not —gonna make it.”

“Shhh, don’t worry about that. I’ve got you,” he murmured back. And sure enough, once it was clear again, you were on the move. Before long, you had met up with more soldiers (the backup that must have been called for) and one of them offered to take you. You involuntarily tightened your grip on your rescuer’s vest and he shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Eventually, you made your way out onto the terrain and you could no longer hold back your pained cries. “Almost there,” he promised. After what felt like prolonged agony, you finally reached an area where a helicopter was indeed waiting. The sight of it made something that felt like relief loosen inside your chest. You were really going to make it out of here alive. Your soldier went to hand you off to another inside when your fingers tightened reflexively around him again. “It’s just for a second to let me get in,” he reassured you.

You nodded, hoping it wouldn’t hurt as bad as that run had, and let him go. Once you were all boarded onto the helicopter, you were moved around again until you were back in your soldier’s embrace, holding tightly onto him as the aircraft lifted into the air and headed away from the compound where more gunfire erupted.

You tried to ask him something but he couldn’t hear you so he ducked his head near yours. “Where are my people?” You asked as loudly as you could, taking every little bit of strength you had left. You were still under the fog, but you still noticed your co-workers weren’t in the helicopter with you.

He turned and placed his lips near your ear. “They’re in another chopper!” You had all made it safely out. Thank God.

You nodded and laid your head against his shoulder, completely spent and feeling the throbbing of pain in your body intensify, making you acutely aware of all the rest of your injuries. The pain radiated from your knee outwardly and now you could feel it in your torso, your arms, your head… Your eyes began to close of their own accord when he shook your shoulder a little. “I’m sure all you want to do right now is sleep but I need you to stay awake. At least until the docs get a good look at you!”

You blinked dazedly up at him. “I don’t think I can,” you mumbled, not even sure he heard you. The tide of pain was washing you under.

He then did the last thing you expected. He lifted his mask and you finally saw the man underneath, the owner of those green eyes that you had been holding onto during this entire ordeal.

“Man, what the hell are you doing?” You heard yelled nearby, but your soldier kept his eyes on yours.

“I need you to stay awake, Y/N! You think you can do that for me?”

You took in his features, your fingers carefully lifting up to touch the thick beard he sported, noting the dirt and grime smears all over his face, but his eyes were what captivated you. Now without the mask in the way, you were free to get lost in those green orbs as deeply as you dared. Too bad you couldn’t seem to stay conscious.

He shook you again. “Y/N! Hey! Stay awake!”

“Sorry,” you slurred before everything went black.

The next time you jerked into consciousness, screaming out in pain, the helicopter had just landed and your soldier, once again wearing his face mask, was yelling instructions to the men around him. You couldn’t hear exactly what they were, the pain was that intense. You were lifted out into another soldier’s arms and looking past him, you saw a second helicopter not that far away. You watched as your co-workers were ushered off of it alongside other masked soldiers but something didn’t seem right. You weren’t sure what it was but something was off to you.

You were placed into someone else’s arms and you saw the eyes of your rescuer once again, softening when he saw that you were crying.

“Something’s—wrong.”

“Stay with me this time, Y/N,” he urged as he hurried you away from the helicopter. “Help is just a few feet away! Only a little bit more to go.”

You tried to stay with him, you really did, but the tide of pain started to blanket you once again. Alongside it, the feeling of something’s wrong surged throughout your body before the darkness overtook you once more.

The next time you came to, you were on a gurney and bright lights were shining down on you. Doctors and nurses surrounded you, talking quickly in Spanish and calling out a few instructions. Your body began to involuntarily tremble again. Had your rescue been a dream? Had your kidnappers brought you to another part of the compound where they had an assembled medical team waiting to somehow keep you alive after they had unleashed such brutality on you? Or were you just dead?

You felt a warm hand in yours, a thumb stroking the top of yours reassuringly. You gingerly turned your head to find your soldier, still wearing his mask, standing right there, smiling down at you. “There you are. You had me worried for a second.”

Before you could ask him if he was real, if any of it was, a nurse started yelling at him, trying to get him to leave. He replied in perfect Spanish, telling her in a very resolved tone that he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were going to be okay. She let out a frustrated huff and shot him a glare before turning away to speak to the doctors. They insisted he had to go and once again, without your permission, you tightened your grip on him, not wanting him to go anywhere.

“No,” you rasped out. “Please let him stay. Please.” He was the only thing anchoring you in this moment. You got the distinct feeling that if you lost him, you’d be lost entirely, never to resurface. He was safety for you, an end to the horrific ordeal you had been through, and you didn’t want him to leave you.

A doctor leaned over you, speaking kindly in English. “It’s okay,” he spoke with a heavy accent. “We are going to make you better but he can’t be in here.”

You shook your head and grabbed at your soldier’s forearm with your free hand though it hurt like hell.

“Doc, can you give us a second?”

The doctor gave him a look but did as he asked, moving back over to his team.

The man next to you pulled a chair from out of nowhere and positioned it next to you. He took a seat and only when he had did you release him, wincing as you dropped your right hand next to you.

He smiled reassuringly down at you. “You’re going to be okay. They’re going to fix you right up. You’ve been through a lot but you’re going to be alright.”

You knew what he was doing; he was calming you down and saying goodbye. For some reason, that made you tear up. Even though you didn’t know this man, he had been your harbor of safety in a chaotic whirlwind, a beacon of hope to cling to in a truly terrifying situation you had found yourself in. When a tear rolled down your cheek, he wiped it away with his thumb. “Will you be here when I wake up?” You choked out.

“I’ll be here until you fall asleep.”

That set loose more tears and he made sure to catch every single one. In the meantime, the nurse came over and injected something into your IV. When you started feeling drowsy a minute or so later, it wasn’t hard to guess what was happening. “Will I ever see you again?” You frantically intertwined your fingers with his as you struggled to stay awake.

He leaned closer, smiling in the same reassurance his green eyes were trying to convey. “I’ll find you,” he murmured, gently squeezing your hand. That made even more tears fall. It surprised you when he moved in to whisper to you, “Get some rest, sweetheart. You’ve more than earned it.”

You wanted to stay awake; you fought it, not wanting to lose sight of those green eyes fixated on you, knowing they would be gone once you closed yours. But you lost that battle as a sea of sleepiness dragged you down with it. You held onto his words as your eyes finally shut from the weight of the drug and you could no longer see him or feel his hand in yours. “I’ll find you” reverberated through your mind as you sank deeper and deeper into oblivion, falling at a rapid rate from deep green into solid black, until you were completely engulfed by it and you were gone.

You briefly closed your eyes as you felt a cool breeze gently make its way past you. You watched as two orange leaves pirouetted in the air, spinning round and round, until they landed several feet away. Silent ripples danced along the water’s surface in front of you and you could hear the sounds of people milling about near you, talking, surrounded by a symphony of nature sounds mixed in with the faroff noises of city life. You couldn’t help but smile when you heard small children giggling as they played on the grass nearby with their parents watching over them. You watched as a small group of teenage girls walked past you, laughing as they reminisced over something that had happened the past weekend. You saw an old man on another bench further down the path, an open book in his hands.

These were the small peaceful moments that you had come to appreciate since you rejoined society a couple of months ago. These were the ones you held onto when the memories of the terror and pain all became a bit too much, that reminded you that you were back home, safe.

You watched as two moms in workout gear jogged by with their strollers. A man and woman coming from the opposite direction made their way around the two women and continued their trek, drinking from to-go cups and dressed in business casual attire. Sure enough, you could hear them discussing work-related topics as they passed you by. You smiled sadly as you watched them get further and further from your sight.

That had been you not that long ago, where you didn’t have a care in the world other than pushing out new product lines and being in charge of one of the main offices of the family business. The pressure had been near soul-crushing most of the time but you had adapted for the most part and rolled with it. You worked hard, you worked long hours, and you were alright with that. You took the stress of hectic deadlines and constantly putting out fires and you rolled with the punches. It became part of your make-up and it could only help fuel you even faster towards your goal — your father’s goal. Now, after what you’d been through, your outlook on it all had changed. What had felt like life and death matters in the corporate world before no longer felt as dire as it used to. You’d been in a literal life and death situation and lived to tell the tale; whatever came your way business wise you knew you could more than handle. There was something about being tortured and having a gun held to your head, convinced you were about to die, that just put things into perspective for you.

And though you survived, you didn’t actually get to tell your tale. The minute you were reunited with your father, while he had been grateful you were alive and kissed your forehead, it was made clear to you that you and the co-workers who had been in captivity with you were to sign NDA’s. That had completely floored you. That was the Board’s main concern? That the public might find out that some of its employees had been kidnapped, terrorized, and tortured? How were they going to explain your month long absence from the job, from your lives? You knew Meredith had a fiance, Pat was a grandmother, Rob had just gotten married weeks before this happened, and Tim had a wife and kids waiting back at home for him. Suzanne was dating someone in HR and you could have sworn you heard Jerry mention at some point that he had a dog to get back to, hoping his neighbor had either checked in on it or at least notified someone to do so. How in the world did the Board plan to explain away any of it?

Your father had let out an aggravated sigh as you fired question after question at him. Who had taken you? What had they wanted besides money? Why hadn’t the Board met their demands? Why had it taken them so long to get the government involved?

“They weren’t involved.”

Your eyes had widened in shock. “What? How?”

Your father had taken your hand in between his and stared into your eyes with meaning. “I’m only going to mention this once and then we’re never going to speak of it again. We hired someone to send in a team to get you out of there.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Hired someone? As in mercenaries?”

“Private contractors for security. They handle this type of situation quite frequently but they keep it all very hush hush. So that is why the Board is insisting on NDA’s for all of you. It’s not only to protect the brand but also to protect all of you.”

“Protect this organization they hired, you mean.”

Your father nodded, not looking troubled by your accusation in the least.

“I don’t understand, Dad. You have contacts in Defense. Why wouldn’t you call them?”

“We did. They recommended these people and said they were our best option. If we hired them, they could get in quickly and get you out. If we didn’t and chose to go through more official channels, it might prolong the process and that might be time that you didn’t have.”

You could see the wisdom in that advice he’d been given. They had been right; had they gotten there even just an hour later than they did, you might not be alive right now. “But a month, Dad? Why did they wait so long?”

Your father tightened his grip on your hand and you knew you weren’t going to like what he had to say next. “At first, we didn’t know who had taken you. When they made contact…the Board wanted to try negotiating with them first.”

You huffed out a breath in disbelief. Those sons of bitches…

“I pushed for them to do something more drastic but they fought me every step of the way. It wasn’t until they received that first video message that they finally agreed that I should make the call.”

So your father had fought for you, but to a point. That fact rolled around in your brain for a moment. Had your roles been reversed, you would have told the Board to go screw themselves and immediately contacted whoever could rescue your father as soon as possible. No amount of money, litigation threats, or risk to the business would have stopped you. You, his only child, his only surviving family member, had been in mortal danger, and he hadn’t done everything he could to secure your safe return home as soon as possible? It was hard to wrap your mind around that. Then his last words finally registered. “Wait, what video message?”

His blue eyes softened with sympathy then and you could swear you could see a little bit of pain beginning to cloud them. “Where you were tortured.”

You should have known. Why else would your kidnappers have filmed it? Truthfully, you had known it back when they were hurting you. You shouldn’t be surprised, but you also didn’t want to talk about it. “You mean the pictures weren’t enough to convince them?” Before that first night, your kidnappers had forced you and your co-workers to look up at them as they snapped photos of you on their phones. You knew then that they were either using it as a scare tactic for your father and the Board or they were providing proof of life. Either way, it hadn’t mattered in the end since obviously the kidnappers had kicked it up a notch after that.

A haunted look fleeted across your father’s tired face. While you may still be struggling with the idea that he hadn’t done everything you would have done in his place, you knew this had taken a toll on him. He had been genuinely concerned for you and the relief you’d seen on his expression when he saw you for the first time since you’d been separated was palpable. “When they saw the video, they could no longer pretend that this was something they could simply deal their way out of.”

Your brows drew together as you studied him. You were sure it had been hard for them to see what had happened to you, to hear your cries, your screams, your pained whimpers. You knew it must have been even more difficult for your father to see. But somehow you got the distinct impression that’s not what he was referring to. “Dad.” He glanced up at you and sure enough, you could tell he was keeping something from you. “Tell me.”

He grasped your hand tightly once more. This was definitely not going to be good. “It was bad enough to see what they did to you…but the end of the video was what convinced them.” At your knitted brow, he elaborated, “They pulled Tim out of the room they were keeping you all in, brought him somewhere, and then killed him.”

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped. What?

“And they said if they didn’t get what they wanted in three days, you were next.”

Your heart started up again and began to pound in your chest. You felt like you were falling with no end in sight. Tim was…dead? Your breathing sped up into short pants and you could hear beeping from a machine you were connected to but it sounded so far away.

You had blocked out some of that experience, your brain subconsciously trying to protect you perhaps, you weren’t sure. And whatever memories stayed, each time they started to flash in your mind, you would close your eyes and grab hold of your safe harbor in those turbulent waves of trauma that tried to overtake you. You would think of green and while the images didn’t exactly disappear, it kept them at a safe distance. Well, while you were awake at least. The nightmares you experienced were something else entirely.

But this…nothing could protect you from this. You suddenly remembered being locked in that bedroom, hearing the yelling, the gunshot—oh God, the gunshot. You had heard the moment they— Your father urged you to calm down, rubbing your hand comfortingly, but you couldn’t hear him or even when a nurse rushed into the room to ask what was going on. Because at that precise moment, a memory came back to you, ripping your tight grip on your green harbor and tossing you back into the dark ocean of trauma and pain to drown in.

It had been right before you’d passed out the second time. While your soldier had gotten out of the helicopter, you had glanced over to see the other helicopter that your people were disembarking from. At the time, you had been so out of it due to the pain and disorientation you had been feeling that you didn’t realize the number of people you should have been seeing was one short. You didn’t even seem to process the black bag two soldiers removed from the aircraft and carried off the tarmac together. You just knew something was wrong, something you had tried to tell your soldier before you passed out again. But now you knew exactly what you had seen.

Tim. Tim had been with you since you started in the New York office; he preceded you actually. Even though your father had chosen him to accompany you and the others, all you could remember was the nice man who had smiled and said hello as he walked into the office; the man who was quiet and reserved but also a hard worker; who had offered you his jacket to cover up with; the man who had begged the kidnappers for the photos of his kids from his wallet that they had taken and then denied him; the man who talked about his family and proudly told you all about his children. His daughter, Riley, was eight and she had recently taken up soccer. Before you’d left for Bogota, she had told him that her coach wanted her to try the goalie position but she was scared; she didn’t want balls flying at her head. You couldn’t blame her on that one and had said as much. You remembered all too well the sports you had been made to join growing up and it had never really been your thing, but it made your father happy so you did it each time he urged you to sign up or try out. Tim’s son, David, was nearly six and he had just graduated kindergarten. And the baby, Olivia, could be quite the handful since she was a very rambunctious toddler who never seemed to run out of energy, but his wife, Angela, lived up to her name and couldn’t be happier with their current family setup. And now… Now, he would never get to see any of them ever again.

The pained wail that met your ears caught you off guard until you realized it was coming from you. Tim was a good man and he had managed to make a life outside of work. He had something you had never let yourself dream about having since it would inevitably get in the way of your successful climbing of the corporate ladder. Now, he would never get to see his kids grow up, go to any more of Riley’s soccer games to encourage her, go on any more date nights with his wife — none of it. You had the horrible thought for a moment that it should have been you in that bag instead. It nearly had been you.

Your father held onto you as you wept, as the nurse rubbed your back from the opposite side of the bed, crooning soft reassurances to you and urging you to try to calm down. But nothing could reassure you; you were here and Tim was not. A cold hard fact that you could do nothing to change. Even worse, you had missed his funeral since you were stuck in the hospital you had been transferred to once you were flown from the one you had briefly ended up in down in Colombia. You hadn’t even known about his death until this moment, your suddenly resurfaced traumatic memories aside.

Since that day, the memory of that single gunshot had tormented you. Had Tim known it was coming? Did he think about Angela and the kids right then? Had he prayed they would be okay without him? How terrified must he have been? You knew how scared you were in that bedroom, how fearful you had been during your second round of torture, sensing that this wasn’t going to end with the doctor treating you as it had the last time (which had now been confirmed that your instinct had been spot on). You could only imagine how he must have felt in that final moment.

The nightmares proceeded to get even worse and you were afraid to be left alone in your hospital room. Though your father and the medical staff had assured you that you were safe, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t, no matter how irrational you knew you were being. Eventually, your assistant Luna started working remotely from your room to keep you company and your father had hired two full-time bodyguards to watch over you: Owen during the day and Simon at night. When the nightmares became practically unbearable, that rotation switched. For some reason, you felt safer with Owen there. Perhaps it had to do with his look, specifically his salt and pepper beard…you briefly remembered the feeling of a beard underneath your bloody fingertips though you couldn’t place the face it belonged to. You had a feeling it was connected to the green you remembered, that you clung to in the tumultuous sea of mayhem that was the night you were marked to die — the green that you associated with your rescuer. Why you couldn’t recall his face, you had no idea, but you chalked it up to your brain once again trying to make sense of the chaos that reigned inside your head.

Green continued to symbolize safety and reassurance for you. So much so that when Luna brought a bag of clothes for you to change into for your beginning rehab sessions, you immediately picked out an olive green hoodie she had selected from your closet and set it aside. You took to holding it close as you slept, letting the scent of home attached to it wash over you as you closed your eyes. When you would wake from your nightmares, sometimes gasping for air that wouldn’t come, sometimes crying, or sometimes screaming, you would see the hoodie next to you and grab it, holding it close until you could either breathe again or calm back down. It became a source of comfort for you and long remained that even after you were discharged.

Your doctor had recommended therapy in addition to the outpatient rehab you would be continuing but truth be told, you weren’t in a rush to relive anything or even unearth something that might somehow be worse than what you already remembered. Your father had also dismissed the idea of therapy, saying that focusing on regaining your ability to walk without the assistance of crutches would help, as well as getting back to concentrating on work. You didn’t agree, you knew better, but you also allowed his view to become your excuse, solidifying your refusal to deal with the trauma you had suffered. After all, you were still here, still breathing — as long as you kept reminding yourself of that, you would be fine.

So you did as your father insisted: you focused on your physical therapy and you slowly found your way back to working full-time. You had graduated from crutches to a cane. Your doctor said your knee was healing nicely and right on schedule, which made you glad that you had listened to him and not your father’s initial suggestion of a knee replacement. You still felt a twinge of discomfort and a whispery echo of pain when walking so you relied more heavily on the cane than your doctor or physical therapist might have liked. You may not have remembered everything from your ordeal, but the pain of the initial impact of the bat and afterwards as you were carried to a waiting helicopter to take you to safety was still a very recent and clear memory for you. You doubted you would ever forget it as long as you lived.

Eventually, you returned to your office and you accepted the well wishes all around. You had no idea what they had been told about your obvious injury or what had caused it but thankfully, no one questioned you. You had been in brief touch with Meredith and the others in the days after your initial surgery back in Colombia but not since then. You had been so focused on your recovery and processing the news of Tim’s death that, truthfully, you hadn’t thought of much else. Even though Luna had been working from your hospital room for a time and she kept you apprised on all developments as well as anything that required your attention, you knew your father had instructed her to keep it all to a strictly need-to-know basis until you were finally ready to fully take up the mantle again. And because you were already dealing with more than enough, you allowed it and didn’t push for more than she told you. So the guilt consumed you when you were informed that Suzanne had resigned and Pat had taken an early retirement to be able to spend more time with her kids and grandkids. Rob had taken a position at another company, though Jerry and Meredith were still there. However, Meredith worked remotely most days, something she had worked out with your father while you had been out. You wondered if it might have been a result of Meredith initially refusing to sign the NDA, a sort of compromise to get her to agree to keeping your ordeal under wraps. You made a mental note to reach out to all of them so you could at least check in to see how they were doing. Jerry was in Research; you’d stop by there later.

As tough as all of that had been to learn and stepping back into the swing of things proved to be a little more complicated than you thought it would be, the most difficult moment had been when you went up to Design. Seeing Tim’s office not being Tim’s anymore had left you reeling. Your father moved fast and had hired his replacement within days. From a professional perspective, you more than understood; the business still had to run after all and Design was one of your most crucial departments. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things. The nightmares were particularly brutal that night. You kept hearing the gunshot, kept seeing one of the kidnappers with their cell phone look over at you afterwards and give you the most terrifying smile. Even the hoodie hadn’t helped. When you looked at it, you didn’t see green anymore but red. A very bold and wet shade of dark red. You tossed it away from you and screamed, bursting into sobs as you rocked yourself back and forth in a soothing motion.

You had immediately called out sick the next morning and spent the rest of the day in bed, alternating between crying and staring blankly at the TV on the wall. Later on, when you could think clearly again, you gave yourself a stern talking to. You were here, alive, and you had hundreds of people looking to you to lead them. You refused to dishonor Tim’s memory by hiding away in your apartment for the rest of your life, no matter how appealing the option might feel. You could hear your father’s voice in your head again, pushing you, telling you to get back up and go to work, to be the best you could be.

And sure enough, you heard his voice for real the next day when he walked into your office. “What is he doing here?”

You glanced up and looked over where he was pointing to see Owen sitting in one of the chairs off to the side, watching you both. You pressed your lips together and shut the portfolio in front of you. “His name’s Owen, Dad. You know that. And he’s here because I asked him to be.”

Your father looked quite displeased with that. “I dismissed him and the other one last week. We talked about this.”

You let out a quiet sigh and sat back in your chair. “I know but—”

“It’s not a good look and it certainly isn’t good for morale. The cane you still insist on unnecessarily using is bad enough. Do you think people around here aren’t asking themselves or each other why you have this man sitting in your office, watching your every move?”

You leaned forward and lowered your voice. “Dad, I get that. I do, but I need—”

“Is this why you called out sick yesterday?” You briefly dropped your gaze to your desk. You didn’t really want to talk about that or how despondent you’d been in your bed for hours until your alarm went off, jolting you into grabbing your phone and making the call. Your father’s eyes softened though his tone didn’t. “Honey, what you need is to dismiss him, permanently, and get back to your life, to your work. Don’t forget, you’re at the helm of this ship and everyone’s looking to you to navigate it seamlessly through the waters.”

Your jaw clenched and for the first time in your life, you were about to draw a line in the sand between what he was telling you to do and what you knew you needed to do. “I’m aware of that and I can’t steer the ship unless I feel safe. Owen here,” you nodded in the man’s direction. “Makes me feel safe. With him present, I can focus and get the job done. So, Owen is staying until I say otherwise.”

Your father’s own jaw tightened. “I’m not paying for more—”

“You’re not. I am. And believe it or not, while I’m doing what’s right for me, I’m also doing what’s right for this office, to ensure our complete success. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some reports from Research to review.” You slipped your eyeglasses back on and reopened the portfolio in front of you, scanning the contents.

You glanced up when your father stepped closer to your desk, his voice lower than before though his now angry gaze burned into you. You should have known by dismissing him in that manner after standing your ground, what it would do. “I’m going to strongly suggest that you finish up with Research and take your lunch out of the office. Perhaps outside. It’s a beautiful day and a dose of fresh air might just be what you need.” He gave you a curt nod and then swiftly left the room. Once he was gone, your shoulders deflated and you slumped back into your chair. You knew your father loved you and he only wanted the best for you, for you to succeed, but sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if it ever came down to the choice of you or the business, who would he choose? He already chose. You blinked the rapidly forming tears in your eyes away at the thought that had popped into your head out of nowhere and carefully got to your feet, reaching for your cane.

“Owen,” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him immediately stand at attention. “I think we’re going to take my father’s advice. He’s right. It is a beautiful day and I would like to take full advantage of it.” He moved towards you, watching as you moved to the corner and slipped on your light coat. “I’d prefer to be anywhere that isn’t here,” you mumbled, grabbing your handbag.

You carefully made your way across your office with Owen following right behind you, ready to assist if need be while also keeping an eye out. You called out to your assistant as you passed her by, “Luna, I’m going out for lunch today. Please hold all calls until I return.”

“Of course, Ms. Y/L/N. If Research calls while you’re out, is there anything you would like me to tell them?”

You thought it over for a moment before turning towards the elevators. “Tell them I’m still working on it. Thank you.” And for the first time since you’d started in this company, you left without getting the job done. The thought didn’t sit well with you, you had always been conditioned to complete all of the tasks set out before you, no matter how late you might have to stay to complete them. But at the same time, it oddly made you smile a little.

So here you were, in Central Park on a gorgeous fall day, having taken your father’s advice to heart. You took every single one of your lunches outdoors now unless it was raining or too cold to sit outside for long. You always marveled at the fact that you had lived in New York City for close to two years and you had never once taken the time to stop and notice what surrounded you on a daily basis. You had never taken in the present moment, never taken an opportunity just to be, to sit quietly and listen. The bench you were on by the lake had quickly become one of your favorite spots. You could relax and indulge in the art of people watching, take in all of the sounds, sights, and smells around you. Truth be told, it was the best part of your day.

Owen stood sentry not too far from you, giving you enough space but also ready to intervene at any moment should he be needed. Despite sitting in a park in the middle of one of the most crime-ridden cities in the country, you felt beyond safe. Owen would never let anything happen to you and being in public, around people living their everyday lives…you felt the safest you had in a long time. A feeling you ended up trying to replicate by looking up Central Park ambience videos on YouTube and playing them while you fell asleep though it didn’t always manage to keep the nightmares away. But you expected that; trauma could be a real stubborn pain in the ass.

But right now, sitting here like this, you were okay. That is, until someone decided to sit down on the opposite side of the bench you were on. All of the times you had sat in this spot, you had been left alone, free to claim this bench as your own for the hour or so you’d spend here. Now, someone appeared not to have gotten the unofficial memo. Out of your peripherals, you saw Owen quickly approaching, most likely intending to tell the stranger to move to another bench, when the person glanced back at him, holding a hand up.

“Relax, man. I appreciate you looking out but I’m not here to hurt her, alright? I’m just here to talk.” The second you heard the voice, your gaze snapped over to the man across from you. You immediately recognized it; it was one you’d heard in your nightmares over and over, telling you to stay with him as you desperately clung to his hand until the kidnappers snatched you away. Was it even possible or were you just imagining this man had spoken to Owen with that voice?

When the man turned back to look at you, you recognized the green eyes immediately and a small lump began to form in your throat. Sure enough, he had a beard, one that looked startlingly familiar when you warily prodded at the memory, trying to recall it. A flash of his face, dirtier than it appeared now, popped into your mind. As if it had been patiently waiting all of this time for you to simply reach out and grab a hold of it. Tears began to burn in the corner of your eyes; it was him.

“It’s you,” you choked out in a whisper without really meaning to.

The smile you faintly remembered graced his face. “It’s me,” he confirmed.

You stared at him, truly dumbfounded. “How?”

“I told you I’d find you.”

You nearly started crying when the familiar words floated up from your subconscious, the phrase you had somehow forgotten in the midst of everything. But you remembered it now, as clearly and vividly as the man sitting before you who had said it. You had been about to pass out in the makeshift surgical room, crying and holding onto him tightly, afraid to let him go. “Will I ever see you again?” “I’ll find you.”

“I made you a promise and I intended on keeping it.” His green eyes softened slightly, much as they had all of those months ago as he caught every single tear that rolled down your cheeks as you succumbed to the drug beginning to course through your system. “I’ll find you.”

And find you he did.

A little preview of the next installment:

Still sensing your discomfort, Russell immediately lifted up and peeled his shirt off, revealing his bare skin to you for the first time. Immediately, you noticed a small bandage wrapped around his left arm. “What happened?” You gasped, sitting up and gingerly running your fingers below the bandage line. He shrugged and looked down at it. “Got shot on a job.” Your jaw dropped and when he glanced back up at you, he must have seen the worry that was consuming you because he immediately chuckled and affectionately cupped your chin. “I’m okay. Besides, that’s not what I wanted to show you.” He took your hand in his and moved it to his other shoulder, guiding your fingertips over skin that was jagged, puckered slightly, and silver-looking. “Shot.” He then moved your hands down his side until it reached a decent sized line that was anything but smooth. “Stabbed.” Your hands moved again to right above his abdomen. “Cut.” They moved once more and ended up on his clavicle. “Cut from an attempted stab.” You winced as he mentioned each injury he had received; they had all been the result of violent means. He moved your hands up to the upper tip of his right ear. “Bullet graze.” There was no scar there to speak of but you could see the tiniest bit of difference between his ears in that area when you looked closely. He finally brought your hand to rest over his heart, holding it there. “Sofia.” Your brows furrowed in confusion and he smirked over at you. “Cute little waitress in Costa Rica. Gave me one hell of a weekend and then left me high and dry for some young British guy who showed up at the beach and hadn’t yet run out of money.” You scoffed and yanked your hand from underneath his, making him laugh, as you crossed your arms. He moved closer to you, cupping your cheeks and staring into your eyes. “I’m kidding about that last part. The rest, I’m not. I’ve got plenty more on my back and even a few on my legs. A couple more on my arms. We all have scars. They’re just reminders of battles we’ve fought and survived. Don’t be ashamed of yours.” A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek but his thumb caught it. He pressed his forehead against yours and murmured, “You’re beautiful.” When he looked at you like this, spoke softly to you like this, you genuinely believed him.

A/N: Coming very soon. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for Part 2.

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