˚ · .˚ ༘ Void,
˚ · .˚ ༘ void,
summary. seeing you after so many years is harder than dean had ever expected.
pairing. dean winchester x reader ; angst
wordcount. 792
The Impala rumbles softly, the low growl of the engine almost soothing against the tense silence inside. Dean grips the wheel tightly, his knuckles white against the leather, his jaw clenched. Sam sits in the passenger seat, flipping through the case file with a furrowed brow, oblivious to his brother’s quiet turmoil.
The brothers are heading into a small, sleepy town, the kind Dean swears is the perfect breeding ground for monsters. The sheriff called in a favor, and they agreed to take the hunt. It was supposed to be straightforward—check out the bodies, track the thing, kill it. Dean didn’t expect ghosts from his past to come creeping in.
But that’s exactly what happens when you stop by the local diner.
Dean’s the first to spot you, sitting by the window. At first, he thinks his mind’s playing tricks on him. But then you laugh, and it hits him like a freight train. You look older, sure, but you’re still you—your smile just as bright, your eyes just as full of life.
And you’re not alone.
There’s a man across from you, his hand resting on yours as you talk. A little girl, no older than six or seven, sits between you, giggling as she tugs on your sleeve to get your attention. You lean down to kiss her forehead, your hand brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Dean’s heart twists painfully in his chest.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice snaps him out of his daze. “You okay?”
Dean doesn’t answer right away. His eyes are glued to the scene in the diner, the way you look so… settled. So happy.
“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice rough. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”
Sam follows his gaze and frowns, glancing back at Dean. “Do you want to—”
“No,” Dean cuts him off, shaking his head. “Let’s just… let’s just get to work.”
But it’s too late. You’ve spotted him, and your eyes widen in recognition. You excuse yourself from the table, walking toward the door, and before Dean can think of an escape plan, you’re standing in front of him.
“Dean Winchester,” you say, your voice warm and familiar. “Of all the places…”
He forces a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hey, sweetheart. Long time, no see.”
You laugh softly, the sound tugging at something deep inside him. “It’s been, what, ten years?”
“Something like that,” he replies, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.
Your eyes soften as you study him, like you’re trying to piece together the years that have passed. “You look good, Dean.”
“You too,” he says, and he means it. You look more than good—you look radiant. But he doesn’t say that.
You glance back at the table, where your husband is watching curiously. “I should get back. But… it’s good to see you. Really.”
Dean nods, his throat tight. “Yeah. You too.”
As you walk away, he feels like the air’s been knocked out of him. Sam doesn’t say anything, but Dean can feel his brother’s eyes on him.
“She looks happy,” Sam says quietly once you’re out of earshot.
Dean swallows hard, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. She does.”
He doesn’t add that it hurts like hell, that seeing you with a family—a life he’ll never have—feels like a knife twisting in his chest.
Later, after the case is done and you’re just a memory in the rearview mirror, Dean pulls over on the side of the road, claiming he needs a minute. Sam doesn’t argue; he just waits in the car while Dean steps out into the cool night air.
Dean leans against the Impala, staring up at the stars. His hands are trembling, and he clenches them into fists, trying to steady himself.
For years, he’s carried the weight of what could’ve been. With Lisa, with you, with anyone who might’ve made him feel like he wasn’t just a soldier in this endless war. But it never works out. It’s always the job, always the life, always the damn apocalypse getting in the way.
And now, seeing you happy—truly happy—makes him wonder if he ever had a chance at that kind of peace.
When Sam joins him, neither of them speaks for a while. The silence stretches between them, heavy but comfortable, until Sam finally says, “You okay?”
Dean doesn’t look at him. “I’m fine, Sammy.”
Sam doesn’t push, because they both know it’s a lie.
As they get back in the car and drive off into the night, Dean can’t help but glance at the passenger seat, where you used to sit so many years ago, laughing and teasing him about his music choices.
It’s just a memory now, but it still lingers, bittersweet and aching.
want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos
More Posts from Writtenbyhollywood and Others
ou need more igor x reader… in a drought
You ask and you will receive! Sorry it took a while!
Little Glimpses (2)
Igor (Anora) x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.4K
Warnings: insecurity; alcohol consumption; fluff
Part One
You couldn’t shut your brain off, you’d been tossing and turning all night. The noises of the city outside would distract you when it became too loud and then you longed for it when it fell silent. You became fixated on the little bit of light from the street lamp that shone in through the blinds. You were so tired and your body ached for sleep. You felt like you were so close, but no matter what- you remained restless.
“You okay?” Igor stirs awake beside you. You feel immensely guilty for waking him up- even though it was unintentional.
“Can’t sleep,” you grumble, trying to burrow into your pillow, shifting your body once more to find a comfortable position. You glanced over at the red numbers on your alarm clock face, suddenly feeling like the light from it is too bright. 3:23 AM You were fucked for how early you needed to get up for work.
He’s always so good at reading you- anticipating your needs, sometimes before you even know the problem yourself. He rolls onto his side so he’s facing you and he strokes your hair softly. It does wonders for you. You yawn softly, feeling your eyes finally get a little heavy. He kisses your forehead, and then the tip of your nose, and then your cheek, until he places a soft kiss on your lips. His large hand runs along the length of your side before settling on your waist.
He closes his eyes again, and pulls your body in closer. Your face rests against his strong chest and his chin rests on the top of your head. Like this, the outside factors that were bothering you had deafened. You felt grounded when he would hold you like this.
You’re snoring softly almost instantly, and he makes sure you’re up in time in the morning before he leaves.
You love him, you love him so much that it hurts when he’s not around, and it fucking scares you. Everything you have with him is so goddamn wonderful that it’s maddening. You get in your own head. You haven’t loved anyone like this before, and you are so scared of fucking everything up. You can’t tell him- it would just ruin everything. It makes this beautiful little thing suddenly something so painstakingly real. He’s been so patient with you- letting you take this at your pace. You feel like eventually you will get in your own way and fuck everything up.
He’s so nonchalant about it that if you didn’t need that from it, you’d find him infuriating. You’re sitting on the front steps of his grandmother’s house, waiting for him to get home from his shift. You anxiously tap your foot against the pavement. You needed to tell him before it completely tore you up from the inside out. When he pulls up to the curb, he gets out of the car- surprised but still very happy to see you.
“Hey you-“
“I love you!” You blurt, panicked and wide eyed. You shouted it before you lost your courage. It was not ideal, but you give yourself credit for doing it. You feel yourself spiral, trying to gauge his reaction as he says nothing the first few agonizingly long seconds. He smiles. How dare he.
“I love you too,” he states, crouching down to be eye level with you seated on the first step. He holds your face with his hand and kisses you. It’s so absolute, he says it like it’s just a fact. It is, in a way, really. Of course he loves you, he loves you every day. He shows you every day. He’s so sincere with his affection for you that you should know how much he loved you without needing to hear him say it. But he loves to say it just the same.
When you’re at the bar together, he doesn’t take his hands off you. It’s not in a douche-y possessive way like one would assume. He just loves being near you, and touching you helps keeps him grounded from his own anxieties. He doesn’t love the bar scene, never has. He deals with it all night when he works. But, he’ll go with you when you need a night out.
His hand will stay on the small of your back. Or, he’ll keep his arm wrapped around your shoulder or your waist, rubbing small circles on your skin. He’ll wrap both of his arms around you from behind and kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder before resting his chin there. He’ll hold your hand, or even just link his pinky with yours. He’ll kiss your temple as you catch up talking with your friends.
As you’re sitting on your bed, he’ll take care of you when you’re too drunk when the two of you get back. Kneeling between your legs, he bites his lip in concentration as he takes off your makeup gently with your pack of makeup wipes. He’s so focused and all you can do is stare at him, awestruck at just how pretty he is. He helps you out of your heels, kissing your sore ankles. He helps you shimmy out of your dress and into your most comfortable pajamas that you love. He has you sit up, your back flush to his chest, and he’ll brush out your hair and he can mimic how you get it ready for bed having watched you do it a million times.
In the summertime months, when its too hot to even think straight- you’ll go to the beach. Sandy towels laid out next to one another and you both just lay in the sun for hours. The sun is the kind of bright that makes it feel like your sunglasses are doing nothing. If you didn’t have them on, maybe you would have noticed the way his back was beginning to burn. He has to drive in such a way that his back doesn’t rest back against the driver's seat.
He’ll lay on his back, shirtless and miserable, spread out on your bed. You’ll be slow and methodical, rubbing the cooling aloe vera across the expanse of his back trying to be as gentle as possible. He softly groans in relief as he feels your hands run down and up his skin. If the burn didn’t hurt so bad, maybe this would’ve led to something more.
You’d been feeling insecure, down on yourself, and you couldn’t shake it. You know he loves you, you trust him more than anyone, yet your mind isn’t always your friend. He’s still working as a bouncer- and you know he hates it- can’t stand working nights. You get in your own head when you think about how many girls he sees every night. How many of them must flirt with him to get in when the line is long? What if he ever met someone else? He’s done nothing to make you think that has happened or would ever happen. It doesn’t make it bother you any less.
It stings when he pulls away from cuddling with you on your couch when he needs to go to work. He hated leaving, he’d much rather stay with you than stand outside in the dark and the cold for the next several hours. He’s been dreading having to leave, seeing if he can push it back one more minute, two more minutes before he absolutely has to leave. You pout and if he could skip his shift he would. He kisses you, pulling you in for a kiss that’s so sensual and sweet- like sealing a promise for what’s to come when he returns.
“I’ll be thinking about you the whole time,” he admits, and you smile ear to ear because you know it’s true. You’ll be here, waiting for him, but he knows you’ll probably be asleep. That’s alright, he’s got his own key now. His shift will end at 2 or 3 in the morning, and he’ll come right back to you- feeling completely drained.
Someone tried to give him a hard time, arguing or trying to fight for god knows what reason. It doesn’t matter, he’ll forget all about it the second he’s able to just walk back up to your apartment. He knows the door creeks, so he does his best to open it slowly not to wake you. He’ll find you asleep on the couch, movie or show playing on the tv- he can tell you tried to wait up for him. He’ll shrug off his jacket and leave it on one of your kitchen chairs before joining you back on the couch. He’ll lay down behind you, and pull you close against his chest. He moves the blanket to cover the two of you, and he’ll drift off to the sound of the TV.
Hi!
Can i request a Rhea ripley x fem reader where reader is a fan and she goes to watch her first match and she has this moment with rhea that goes viral (maybe rhea looked at her in the crowed a certain way and the cameras caught readers reaction?) and later they go on a cute date to get to know eachother?
Basically love at first sight
rhea ripley x reader
‼️ soft rhea, soft moments
caught in your spell
you had always been a fan of wrestling but you never imagined you’d be there, in that moment.
the arena was alive with energy, the sound of cheers and roars filling the air as the wrestlers did their thing in the ring but for you, there was only one wrestler who mattered - rhea ripley.
rhea was incredible, unapologetically herself and completely captivating.
every time she stepped into the ring, you couldn’t help but be drawn to her presence. she wasn’t just a wrestler, she was a leader, a champion, owning the ring with every move, every look, making her opponent fear for themselves.
you didn’t think much about it at first, standing there in the crowd - just another fan, waiting for the match to begin.
but when rhea stepped into the ring everything else faded into the background. you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. there was something about the way she carried herself, the way she dominated that space.
and then it happened.
she looked out into the crowd, her eyes scanning the audience and for a split second, your eyes locked. your heart skipped a beat. her intense, confident gaze met yours, and for that moment, it felt like you were the only person in the arena.
a smirk tugged at the corners of rhea’s lips. was it meant for you?
you weren’t sure, but the way she held your gaze that moment made it feel like she was seeing you, really seeing you.
your stomach fluttered and your mind raced, unsure whether you had just imagined it or if there was something more to that look.
before you could think on it too much, the match continued, and she shifted her focus back to what was happening in the ring but the memory of that moment stayed with you, replaying in your mind over and over. could she have noticed you? or was it just a coincidence?
a few days later, as you scrolled through your social media, something caught your eye.
a notification.
you opened it and your heart nearly stopped when you saw who had tagged you in a post.
@rhearipley_wwe.
that rhea ripley.
the rhea ripley.
the post replayed the scene caught by the cameras - you and her looking at each other.
“she has eyes for mami but mami has eyes for her.” - the caption said.
you blinked, uncertain if your eyes were deceiving you. there was a message attached to the post, and you hesitated for a moment before clicking it open.
“hey, i hope you don’t mind the post! i saw you at the show. wanna grab a drink sometime?”
your heart pounded in your chest as you reread the message. this couldn’t be real, could it? was rhea ripley really messaging you? was this some kind of joke? or was it actually happening?
you took a deep breath, your fingers trembling as you typed a response.
“hey! that sounds great. i’d love to.”
you sent the message before you could talk yourself out of it. seconds later, you got the notification - rhea ripley is typing….
you held your breath as the message popped up.
“perfect. i’ll pick you up tomorrow night. don’t be late.”
your heart was racing now. was this really happening? rhea ripley, the woman who had dominated your thoughts since that moment at the arena wanted to meet you, spend time with you.
the woman everyone wanted, wanted you?
————————
the next evening, you were a bundle of nerves. you couldn’t believe this was happening. you had to keep reminding yourself that this wasn’t a dream. when the knock on your door came, you nearly jumped out of your skin. you opened it, and there she was, standing on your doorstep. rhea ripley, looking even more incredible in person.
“hey” she said, her voice deep and confident, with that signature smirk of hers “you ready?”
you could barely form words, but you nodded, not trusting your voice. she chuckled and held out her hand. your pulse quickened as you took it, her touch warm and strong.
the night passed in a blur. you talked, laughed, and even shared a few personal stories. it was easy with her. she wasn’t just the fierce wrestler you’d seen on tv - she was real, and she was interested in you. as the night went on, you found yourself more and more drawn to her, to the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the world.
toward the end of the evening, as the two of you were walking to the car, rhea’s hand brushed against yours, and you felt your cheeks flush. she turned toward you, her expression softening.
“hey” she said, voice quieter now, almost teasing “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you.”
you froze, feeling the weight of her gaze “w-what?” you stuttered, suddenly shy, unsure of where this was going.
rhea smirked, but there was something more vulnerable in her eyes now “you captured my attention from the moment i saw you in the crowd. i couldn’t get you out of my head. you make me go crazy, you know that?”
your heart skipped a beat.
you blinked at her, too stunned to respond at first.
did she really just say that?
“you…” you began, your voice barely a whisper, still processing her words, feeling the heat of your cheeks “you’re… crazy?”
rhea laughed softly, stepping closer, her hand gently touching your arm “in the best way, trust me. i’ve never felt like this about anyone before. you make me want to lose control…i saw you in the crowd and i thought - shit she’s incredibly beautiful - but as we spent the night together i also learned that you’re both gorgeous and smart, talented and sweet…” rhea confessed.
you could barely hold back your smile, the shyness in you overtaking everything. you didn’t know what to say, but just the fact that she was here, that she was saying this to you - it was enough.
rhea’s hand gently cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin “is it crazy that i want more of this? more of getting to know you? more of you?”
your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but nod, a shy smile playing on your lips “no…i want that too.”
rhea leaned in closer, her lips just inches from yours. she paused, searching your face for any sign of hesitation but all she found was your nervous, eager expression. with a quiet chuckle, she closed the distance between you, her lips pressing softly against yours.
your breath hitched at the contact and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. but rhea’s hands were gentle as she guided you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other resting at your waist. she kissed you slowly at first, as if savoring the moment, before deepening it, her lips moving with more urgency.
the kiss was intoxicating. rhea’s presence overwhelmed you in the best way, her warmth and confidence making you forget everything around you. you felt yourself melting into her, your body instinctively responding to hers. you had never felt anything like this before.
when the kiss finally broke you were both breathless, your face flushed with heat. rhea pulled back slightly, still holding you close. her eyes were darker now, filled with desire, but there was tenderness in her touch as she smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear.
“i’ve been waiting for that” she murmured, her voice low and husky “from the moment i saw you tonight…”
you couldn’t help but smile, the shyness creeping back in as you glanced up at her “me too.”
rhea chuckled softly, brushing her thumb over your lips - she still couldn’t get over your shyness “i think this is just the beginning for us.”
you nodded, your heart full as you stared up at her, feeling like you were floating. this was real. and rhea ripley wasn’t going anywhere.
_________________________
likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!
JEALOUSY JEALOUSY | LEE BYUNG-HUN
PAIRING. lee byung-hun x actress!reader
REQUEST. I might have just found my fave blog... May i pretty please with a cherry on top have some lee byunghun with actress!girlfriend!y/n where they watch her show and he gets jealous because of a kiss scene but make it like its some vid for youtube like for GQ maybe and the fans analyzing like the jealousy Its fine if u dont want to tho
A/N. sorry I couldn’t answer directly to your request. btw I know the updates are slow. I’m back in college so I’m really trying to focus! Divider by @v6que !
gq
liked by yourusername and others
gq y/n y/ln and lee byung-hun take a walk down memory lane on our latest GQ&A.
view comments
user12 no way they got them on GQ
byunghunswifey MY HUSBAND LOOKS TOO FINE
reagenxox omw to watch it 🫡
charliee_3.3 the look on his face
sukiwaterhouse @/yourusername look at you go!
iloveyn my favourite actress 💞
yndailynews
liked by missyn and others
yndailynews clips from y/n y/ln and her boyfriend lee byung-hun’s GQ&A video
view comments
user face card never declines
jaime.lan1 did anyone catch the look on his face when they showed her kissing scene?
user7 @/jaime.lan1 FINALLY SOMEONE NOTICED!
maryssblog I didn’t even know he was dating someone
user4 my two favourite actors together
girlblogger the last picture…he looks like he wants to murder someone
yourusername
liked by byunghun0712 and others
yourusername peace
view comments
randomuser u got a possessive man
userr8 PRETTY
ynfanacc DID SHE NOTICE THE LOOK HE GAVE HER??
byunhunwifeyfr I wish I had your man
ynswifeyy WDYM PEACE? THAT LOOK MEANT THE OPPOSITE OF PEACE
yourfriendsuser I hate that u have a man🥲
byunghun0712
liked by yourusername and others
byunhun0712 it doesn't matter...she's mine
view comments
user2 IS HE TALKING ABOUT THE MOVIE!?
ynspookie @/user2 ofc he is
user3 making sure everybody knows that their together 😭
liked by author
ynsfandom she did that movie years agoooo move onnn
hater pretty sure you kissed other people too so….
user8 @/hater I thought it was cute
COMING HOME. †
꒰ . ⋮ minors do not interact .ᐟ ֹ ꒱
༝༚༝༚ synopsis. after two excruciating weeks apart, dean finally comes home. the kids are asleep, and he's desperate to make up for lost time.
ⓘ warning(s). smut | rough sex | mild dominance | biting & marking | bed-breaking sex (literally) | post-hunt reunion | explicit language.
༝༚༝༚ word count. 1.3K
༝༚༝༚ kari notes. the people wanted this, so the people are gonna get it <3 + i actually HATE the way this came out, but fuck it we ball 👁️👁️
you hear the impala roar into the driveway before you see it, the familiar rumble sending a rush of warmth through your chest. two weeks. fourteen long, exhausting days of managing four kids alone, of missing him with a sharp, constant ache that settled deep in your bones.
you've learned to deal with dean's absences over the years, but somehow it never gets easier. especially now, with three daughters—ages eight, five, and three—and a mischievous eight-month-old son who has his daddy's green eyes and stubborn streak.
you're halfway through cleaning up the dinner table, your youngest balanced snugly on your hip, drooling adorably on your shirt, when the front door swings open. dean steps inside, dirt-stained jeans hugging his hips, his faded flannel hanging open over a worn black t-shirt. the sight of him sends your pulse into overdrive.
"hey, sweetheart," dean drawls gently, dropping his duffel by the door. he looks tired—lines etched deeper around his eyes, scruff thicker than usual—but god, he's gorgeous. your heart flips as he steps closer, his eyes softening when your baby boy reaches tiny arms out toward his dad, babbling excitedly.
"hey, buddy," dean murmurs, scooping his son effortlessly into his arms. your heart aches, watching the way dean's face lights up, exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the presence of his child. his lips brush the baby's soft forehead, lingering there as if soaking up every ounce of comfort and affection he can.
"missed you," you whisper, stepping close enough to lean against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of leather, gunpowder, and something uniquely dean winchester. his free arm wraps tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
"missed you too, baby," he whispers hoarsely, his lips pressing softly to your temple. the brush of his stubble sends shivers down your spine, and your fingers fist gently into the fabric of his shirt. "you holdin' up okay?"
you nod against him, savoring the warmth of his strong frame, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. "better now."
the sound of tiny footsteps breaks the moment, and your three daughters come racing into the kitchen screaming excitedly. dean's eyes crinkle at the corners, his mouth breaking into a wide, genuine smile as they swarm him, hugging his legs, giggling when he ruffles their hair, calling each one by their special nickname.
it's pure chaos, loud and messy and beautiful. you step back a little, watching him interact with your children—your chest tightening with an overwhelming surge of love.
the evening passes in a blur of baths and stories and bedtime cuddles. dean insists on handling bedtime, savoring every moment he's missed over the past two weeks.
you watch him from the doorway as he kisses tiny foreheads, tucks blankets gently around tiny shoulders, whispering softly until eyelids flutter closed. your heart swells as you see him in his element, and it makes you fall impossibly more in love with him.
when the last bedroom door finally clicks shut, he turns to you, eyes dark and heavy with a different kind of exhaustion—the kind that only you can soothe. the tension that's been simmering between you since the moment he walked through the door ignites instantly, crackling in the air between you like electricity.
without a word, dean crosses the hallway, his fingers tangling into your hair as he pulls you in, mouth crashing against yours hungrily. your back hits your bedroom door with a soft thud, his broad frame crowding you against it as his tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you roughly, possessively. the kiss is messy, desperate—his teeth catching your lower lip, tugging just enough to make you gasp.
"goddamn, baby," he growls against your mouth, voice thick and gravelly with need. "been goin' fuckin' crazy without you."
your hands slip beneath his shirt, nails scraping lightly over his strong stomach, tracing the familiar curves of muscle and softness. he groans into your mouth, pressing his hips into yours, letting you feel exactly how much he's missed you. your breath hitches as you grind against him, desperate for friction, desperate to feel him fill you again.
"need you," you whisper breathlessly, your lips trailing along his jaw, tasting the salt of his skin. "now."
he doesn't hesitate, pulling you away from the door long enough to shove it open. the second it clicks shut behind you, his hands are everywhere, stripping clothes away roughly, impatiently. your shirt lands somewhere across the room, jeans and underwear quickly following.
you fumble with his flannel, tugging it off his broad muscular shoulders, your fingers trembling slightly as you push his jeans down his hips, freeing his hard length.
he backs you toward the bed, lips never leaving yours, and you're both naked before your knees hit the mattress. he lays you down roughly, climbing over you, his mouth blazing a trail down your neck, across your chest, tongue swirling around your nipples, biting gently until you're arching into him, moaning his name.
"dean," you gasp when his teeth scrape over your sensitive skin, sending pleasure pulsing through your veins. "please, baby—"
he doesn't make you wait, pushing your thighs apart with strong hands, sinking into you in one swift thrust. you both groan simultaneously, overwhelmed by the tight heat, the perfect friction. he sets a brutal pace immediately, hips snapping hard against yours, driving you higher, faster, closer to the edge you've been craving.
"fuck, sweetheart," he grunts, his voice raw, desperate, as he pounds into you. "missed this pussy—missed you—so goddamn much."
you dig your heels into his lower back, urging him deeper, harder, your nails leaving red marks down his back as you cling to him. the bed creaks dangerously beneath you, but neither of you cares. you're too lost in the feeling, in each other, in the messy, desperate heat of making up for lost time.
he sits up suddenly, pulling you with him, never slipping out of you. he spins you around until you're on your knees, gripping the wooden headboard tightly, his strong chest pressed hot against your back. he pounds into you from behind, teeth sinking gently into your shoulder, your neck, marking you as his. you push back against him, matching each thrust, feeling your orgasm building quickly, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snaps.
"oh fuck, dean—" your voice breaks, your body shaking violently beneath him, pleasure washing over you in wave after wave. he growls your name, hips stuttering, his thrusts becoming erratic as your walls squeeze around him, pulling him over the edge with you.
his hand slams down on the headboard as he comes hard, hips jerking, cock pulsing deep inside you. there's a loud crack, wood splintering beneath his grip, but he hardly seems to notice, too caught up in the intensity of his orgasm.
you collapse onto the mattress together, breathing heavily, limbs tangled, hearts pounding in sync. dean's hand slides gently along your back, tracing soft circles over the bite marks he's left behind, soothing your skin as you both slowly come down from your high.
"think you just broke our bed," you tease softly, nuzzling into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
he chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "worth it."
you laugh quietly, your fingers trailing lazily along his chest. "missed you so much, de."
his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer. "i ain't goin' anywhere, baby," he whispers, voice thick and sincere. "promise."
and for the first time in weeks, you finally feel complete again—safe and loved and exactly where you're meant to be.
@ deansbeer is tagging you .ᐟ @titsout4jackles @daylighted @soldiersgirl @bluemerakis @jensenacklesballsack @h8aaz @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @blue-d @stereotypicalbarbie @funkycoloured @fuckedupfate @deanswidow @beausling @bejeweledinterludes @blossomingorchids @tinas111 @0ccvltism @bittersweetfig @deanswifeyy @dollyfiles @cupidzbunny @tallandcunt @kamisobsessed @pieandflannel @faiszt @apocalyqsc @coquitokisses @americanvenom13 @rubyvhs @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @mahi-wayy @maddie0101 ╱ wanna follow the chaos? join my taglist <3
HEY, JUDE ㅤ₊ ㅤ˚ ㅤ✧ ㅤ ﾟ ㅤ. ㅤ☾
☽ㅤdetails, or, dean never expected to have a family of his own, and his expectations hold true when all that becomes of it is a baby who looks identical to you.
☽ㅤincludes, single dad!dean, girl dad!dean, reader exists in mentions, self deprecation, grief, blood mentions, death mentions, i am so sorry
word count: 7.1k
baby girl.
“hey, jude,” he murmurs softly into his baby girl’s ear, cradling the fussing, teary eyed infant to his chest. she was still so little — so fucking little — but he wasn’t sure when being little shifted from something to coo over to something to fuss over. and he doesn’t have much comparison to go off of, over what is too small, not when everything shrinks in the expanse of his biceps.
it is not the first time he wishes you were still around, but instead another tack on the growing list.
he is so fucking useless without you. he really is. and it only hits him now, in the dead of night when his little girl won’t stop crying like something aches or something’s wrong, and he’s completely at a loss on how to fix it.
he couldn’t fix losing you; and now he can’t fix her. he’s all she’s got left, and he’s failing her.
those thoughts are a plague. they fester. they gnaw on his skin and feast on his blood and whittle his bones. and he is so sick, and he is so lost, that he couldn’t find his way to a cure if he tried.
jude is wailing now, and he’s seconds from joining her. he doesn’t know, still, the difference in a baby’s cries. he did not nurse her for nine months in his belly, like you did; the internal guidebook on fatherhood was not automatically installed into him when she was brought out to be cradled by you that very first time. his was a manual installation, and it was still, seven months in, fucking lagging.
“m’sorry, jude,” he whispers into the soft hair gracing the top of her head. it’s the same color as yours. the only thing she inherited from him was his eyes, and he hates looking into them and seeing every failure he’d made so far reflected back at him.
all he can do is rock her, until she stops her fussing or she doesn’t, and then he can switch tactics. he doesn’t think often about the military-sort of childhood that he was raised in, but it comes up every time in times like this, when his methods of defense present themselves in tactics.
the cradling tactic: for when jude wailed like she was grieving, like she’d sobbed so hard in her dreams that it broke into real life. there was no way that little girl remembered your face, but sometimes he thought that she missed your voice, with the way his never seemed to soothe her in times like this.
the food tactic: for when it was clear that the cradling tactic didn’t work. sometimes her lips opened and closed like a fish’s, and he could skip the first step entirely and go to this one. maybe he wasn’t entirely useless as a father, after all, if he subconsciously knew this little tell of hers. he’d never let himself think so kindly of himself for long, though.
the diaper tactic: no explanation needed. this one he could always tell when was necessary. sometimes, it’d linger like the plague in his blood, and then he’d had to dive into,
the bath tactic: which jude hated. god, she fucking hated baths, almost like she could tell that warmth was the thing that took you from the both of them. that’s why sometimes, even when it felt awful, he let her cry while he sat idly in the rocking chair beside her crib. didn’t want to stress her out more with his lack of coherency when it came to what she needed — and that little fact, that he thought it upset her more sometimes when he tried to be the thing to fill the missing, bleeding wound that was you.
in his arms as he rocked her, jude’s little mouth opened and closed. her cries were still ear piercing and raw, but at least he could do something about it now. he nearly sighs in relief the moment that she gives him that little hint, like she can tell, in her infancy, that he was incapable of this on his own.
she’d moved away from bottles long before, and upgraded to the wonderful world of mashed vegetables and fruits. though, she hated new flavors. he thought it was a game, in a way; always making him have the first tiny spoonful of pureed asparagus. he felt like a bodyguard in moments like those, testing if the princess’s food was poisoned before she got a taste.
but it was late, and she didn’t need any of the cereals that they’d been working on, too — though, he really would never have argued with stealing a couple or a couple dozen of those little strawberry banana things.
and she was spoiled, despite all of his worries that he was failing her. she’d get to stay in his arms while she ate, instead of the high chair he should have been adjusting her to.
oh well. add it to the tallied list on how he was fucking up his — your — little girl. he could take it.
“feelin’ midnight snacky, is that it?” he asks, so softly, always so softly like any increase to his volume will shatter her. honestly, he thought that she was the strongest person he’d ever met, and she wasn’t even a year old yet. she could only grow up to impress him — and ruin him, with how she was already turning into a mini you.
she still cried, because she always cried until her problem was fixed in its entirety, but the sobs had broken and given way to sniffles and unintelligible noises that sounded too close to mama for his comfort.
mama, mama, mama. shit— how did he tell her that he missed her, too? how does someone baby-talk down the fact that she was dead, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing left anymore without her?
well, except for jude, of course. and what a stark reminder that is, that she’s all he has left of you.
tonight’s snack was mashed carrots. the last one of that flavor, because it was jude’s favorite. had to be because it was such a stark color, the color of the deepest sunsets, one of the things that you loved the most.
he pops the top with one hand, the other still cradling this tiny thing that was his daughter to his chest. the metal lid clatters to the ground, and he winces, thinking that the noise is only going to startle and break his daughter’s heart more. but to his surprise, as he dips his hand into the drawer of silverware, now mostly full of those baby sized spoons with zoo animals on the handles, jude is silent.
not just silent, but curious. dean knows the curious look, even if he doesn’t know how to differentiate most of her expressions still. it’s because it’s the same as yours used to be. lips parted, eyes wide, darting around. it’s more devastating on jude, though, because she has the longest eyelashes, and the smallest little lips, so small he can hear every breath she draws in as she searches for what captured her attention.
dean smiles to himself. it’s these moments where he doesn’t feel quite so much like a terrible father; when his little girl has stopped wailing, and looks at him for every answer he might have.
maybe by the time she’s grown, he’ll have some of those answers.
toddler.
“hey, jude,” dean snaps his fingers to capture jude’s attention, his expression flat and exasperated at once, “get the remote out of your chompers, alright? don’t know where all it’s been.”
really, he doesn’t know. at one point or another: between the couch cushions, underneath the rocking chair cushion — every damn cushion, really, the dusty floor, the clean floor. hell, it’d probably been in his mouth before, when his hands were too occupied with a beer and a plate. wouldn’t put it past him.
jude is becoming a sassy little thing. she does specifically what he tells her not to, even at her ripe age of four, when she’s just barely beginning to figure out she’s a person.
you didn’t even back talk him this much, when you were around, which leaves the answers for his many internal, baffled questions to be that jude had gotten it from him.
karma always does get its kiss, eventually. its kiss was in the form of a toddler with his attitude, his eyes, and your face.
she looked so much like you now.
her little button nose was filling out in the shape of yours, her eyes were as big as yours, and she was so little compared to him, just like you’d been. she was in the in-between stage of her growing, small chubby limbs that made her whine every night, thumb still in her mouth because he can’t, can’t, bring himself to stop that little habit.
if dean could keep her this little and innocent forever, he would. fuck, he would. it was selfish, to want to preserve this tiny little girl in a box and keep her on his shelves, but the thought of watching her grow into a version of you…
it was easier, now, that a few years had passed. never easy, and never simple, but easier. his feelings were still complex, still bottled up deep within him and ignored, where the oddest things sometimes could send him into a spiral. sam would come, pick up his pieces and keep him from doing something stupid, and the cycle of denial would repeat.
but every day, dean swore he saw more of you in her. if it wasn’t the fact she was a mini you, it was the way she acted. hence the attitude — which, realistically, was all his own, but why would he ever vocalize that out loud?
jude stomps her bare foot on the hardwood, her little face scrunched up with so much volition you’d think he beheaded all of her teddy bears, and she was coming to enact revenge on him for it. “why?”
oh, you used to do that too. that angry why at him instead of just trusting that whatever he said was with good intentions, or to the best of his knowledge, fact.
dean stands in front of her at his towering height, staring down at this knee-height little girl with bows in her hair, and a little sundress that she’d fought and fought him about putting on. it’s a battle of centuries.
jude breaks first. another foot stomp. her hand holding the remote is raising suspiciously slowly back to her mouth.
“juliet.” dean tries to make his voice sound stern and commanding but he can never quite manage it with his little girl. that’s his princess, alright? “don’t make me go get mr. bear bear.”
that used to get her. it used to get her so bad that she’d cry, thinking he was going to send mr. bear bear packing. that’s probably why he has such a hard time scolding jude — because any time he did, she’d start bawling. it had to be a manipulation tactic.
at least he was aware of it, even if he fell for it everytime.
“mr. bear bear isn’t talkin’ t’you.”
dean bristles. “and what does mr. bear bear think i did this time, huh? is he mad i made you brush your teeth?”
it’s ridiculous, standing in the middle of his living room, having a cowboy showdown with his four year old daughter about a stuffed animal named mr. bear bear. but that’s parenthood, he guesses.
her arms cross firmly over her chest. in this moment, and this moment alone, he sees himself in her. he’s standing just like that too. “he says,” she starts, interrupted by a hiccup that discredits all of his arguments, because he’s a goner. already wants to swoop her into his arms and apologize to her. “he says you make things up.”
vague. and true. but how does mr. bear bear know this? frankly, none of his business, if you asked dean.
“what’s he sayin’ i’m lyin’ about?” dean shoots back, his head tilting up in that cocky little sneer that jude loves. good cop, bad cop is her favorite game to play with him, even though her version of a good cop includes smashing her toy cars into his leg to make him confess. it works, though. his bruises prove it.
as if on cue, jude’s giggling up a storm, interrupted only by bursts of her hiccups. “lyin’ about mommy.”
the floor drops out from beneath him. he feels nauseous. he feared this day coming and here it was. the first time she brought you up, too much intelligence in that little brain of hers, to know that it just wasn’t common to not have a mommy alongside your bad cop daddy.
he keeps a brave face, though. bad cops don’t break persona the first time something detrimental gets dropped into their lap. “go bring ‘im out here. lemme give him a talkin’ to, too.”
she sprints off, so steady on her little feet now that it adds to the ache in his chest. she was getting so much bigger, and you weren’t here to see it. maybe you were looking down, watching as her tiny form grew taller and stronger. he could hope, couldn’t he?
jude returns moments later, soft brown teddy bear in her arms. his little bowtie is a mockery of him, if what jude says that he says is true.
in his heart, he knows that all of the things that the bear tells her are her own thoughts, manifesting in a gentler form so that it doesn’t hurt her as badly when they do. it breaks his heart. so little, and she’s already gotten a defense mechanism in place.
dean kneels down to be eye level with jude, gingerly plucking mr. bear bear out of her small fingers. “a certain pretty princess told me you were mad at me, sir,” he says, voice lowered like it was just him and this fucking bear, ear forever wet from jude’s gnawing, even though he’d thought she’d gotten over that fixation. he’ll feel like an idiot for having a serious, talk-it-out conversation later with his daughter’s teddy bear, but for now, her feelings are more important to him. always. “i’ll be honest, bear bear, i have been keeping things from the pretty princess. your feelings are very valid.”
he’s quoting things from his therapist, now. to a teddy bear. they don’t tell you a thing about parenthood before you get into it, but they certainly don’t tell you this.
“i just didn’t want her to think that it was her fault, not at all, about what happened to her mommy. surely you understand. you and i, we keep our pretty princess safe, don’t we?” he even pauses for an answer that won’t come, his eyes flicking over to his little girl, her folded hands in front of her as she patiently waits. she’s so sweet that it kills him. “mama didn’t go away on a business trip, you’re right. mama died, very tragically, while protecting our pretty princess. and it’s not her fault, and not our girl’s, either.”
there’s a little sniffle from behind the bear in his hands, and he looks up to see jude, eyes welled and lip wobbly in that way that makes his heart ache. just like when she was a baby, when her screams shattered his heart to pieces, but worse, because her tears were silent now, like she was trying to soothe it all away herself.
she didn’t have to. that’s why he was there. dean hands her back the bear, and in that same movement, scoops her into his arms in a tight embrace. instantly, she falls apart at the seams, her shoulders shaking as the stuffing pours from the buttons of her eyes.
“she would have loved you,” he whispers into the top of her head, smoothing out the tangly strands with his fingers. you really would have loved her, too. she humbled him — you humbled him. she broke his heart, you broke his heart.
maybe she’d forgive him one day, for letting something happen to you when he promised he wouldn’t, when he swore up and down that you were it for him, that you wouldn’t—
it’s too much. even when dean feels like he’s getting better with this grief thing, he can’t move past it. not when there’s a smaller you attached to his hip, waiting for him to hang the world for her and protect her, too.
he can only hope that he gets it right this time.
child.
“hey! jude!” dean stands out on the sidewalk before the elementary school, seeing jude off on her first day of third grade. in his hands is her little lunchbox, ever forgotten in her excitement.
every single first day, dean cries. he’s not ashamed of it, either. it’s tough seeing his little girl run off into the real world on her own, and being the one to see her off, all on his lonesome.
it wasn’t like the single moms didn’t try to catch his attention, either. they constantly did. it was that he preferred the isolation over the company every time. how could anyone hold a candle to you?
jude glances over her shoulder, her long hair flipping in the process, catching in the wind. he has to bite back a sigh. the braid’s already loose, the strands already spilling out of it, tangling in the wind.
her little feet stomp back toward him, splashing in the remnants of last night’s rain in the concrete,and dean wants to tell her to slow down. wants to tell her to stop time, stay exactly like this. young, small, forever protected by him. just to prove to himself that he could protect something, and that he’d never have to see her hurt.
“thanks, daddy!” she lisps through her wide, toothy grin. she’s got the cutest gap tooth right now from losing one of her front teeth in a burger a few days ago, the pink gums peeking from between her middle teeth making him smile every single time he saw it. she was never embarrassed, or shy, about that smile, either.
her hand is outstretched for the lunchbox. pink and purple and glittery, and one of the most expensive at the store. anything for his jude, though.
dean keeps it back from her, his chin tilting up in mock sternness. “what do we do if people are mean to us?” he asks in a reminder of their rules. he had a couple of them that he never let up on.
“kick their ass,” jude says, her fingers clapping against her palm in a gesture to get her box. “ass. ass?” each attempt comes out more lispy, her face contorting in her irritation. “kick their ass.”
dean cackles, inching the lunchbox slightly closer. “very good, baby girl,” he says with a nod, “now what do we do if someone puts their hand on us?”
“break their fuckin’ fingers,” jude grins, her eyes glimmering. ever since she found out that her dad’s rules had bad words in them, she was as mischievous as ever about saying them.
dean’s eyebrows raise. “how?”
her little hand — so big now, though, it makes his heart clench in his chest — grasps his fingers and pulls back, and once his hand is as bent as her strength can manage, she twists.
dean lets out a nervous chuckle, tugging his hand free from her light grip. “whoa, princess. no breakin’ daddy’s fingers, alright?” he flexes his fingers, reaching out to grab her hand and kiss her tiny knuckles.
she was nowhere near close to hurting him. but who was he to ever crush his little girl’s spirits? he couldn’t. he couldn’t.
jude’s evil grin only widens, though. “maybe someone will try me t’day and i’ll get t’break their fingers!”
“you should not be wishing for that,” dean says, even though his heart swells in the process. jude may have been an identical version of you, but the longer she spent around him, the more parts of him shined through. god, he loved her so much. “last rule?”
jude’s expression softens. her milky green eyes glisten with unshed tears, and this is the part that always ruins him, that brings him to his knees. “hug my daddy goodbye, always.”
“almost forgot this time,” he mumbles, his voice more strained than it should be after having done this four years now. he kneels, holding open his arms, the lunchbox still dangling in his fingers.
she was growing up too fast. getting so independent so fast. jude practically jumps into his arms, his grip tight around her little frame as hers is around his neck.
he doesn’t want to let go. letting go always feels like giving her away to someone else, and he can’t. she’s all that’s left of you, and he’s selfish, and he doesn’t want anyone else to love his little girl as much as he does.
“can i tell you a secret?” she whispers in his ear, and he nods into her hair, taking the liberty to reach up and tug the hairtie out of the ends. it would get lost somewhere in that school if he didn’t now, and the purple ones were her favorite. couldn’t lose them on his watch.
“i tell mommy goodbye, too,” jude says, lifting her head to look dean in the eyes. her look was so earnest, so warm and raw, that dean’s eyes got glassier than they already were.
“yeah?” dean asks, clearing his throat. the last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of his kid. he was a tough guy, took all of the hits that life tried to deliver to her, was covered in bruises and scars all over the skin she loved to cling to. “mommy ever say anything back?”
she nods, picking at a thread on her shirt. “she says she’s always watching.”
how weak did it make him to nearly buckle under that quiet admission? how pathetic was he that any mention of you, even in his daughter’s big imagination, had him clinging to those thoughts, using them as ways to self soothe the aching hole that you left in his soul?
dean reaches up to pinch her cheek between his two fingers, handing her the lunchbox, finally. “go on, pretty princess. don’t want you to be late.”
didn’t want her to see him cry, either. he was clinging to the last shreds of his stability, losing grip by the second.
“bye bye, daddy!” jude hugs him one last time as he stands, clinging to his knee for a second before turning on her heel and sprinting away.
he watches. watches as her little self disappears into the big front doors of lawrence elementary. watches until she’s long gone, and straggling parents running late drop off their kids that sprint away without a goodbye hug, or a promise that their mommy’s always watching them when dean can’t.
dean’s eyes flick up to the sky, like maybe he can see you there in between the clouds. the sun looks a little brighter today. maybe it’s you, seeing jude off, too.
“thanks,” he whispers, nodding once to you. he watches, then, too. for any sign in the sky that you heard him — a twitch in the clouds, a flicker in the sunbeams pouring down on the concrete. but everything is still.
☽ ₊ ㅤ˚ ㅤ✧ ㅤ ﾟ ㅤ. ㅤ☾
“i’m serious, sam,” dean says into the phone, keeping it held to his ear with the press of his shoulder, “it could just be kid stuff, but—”
“...but when is it ever actually just the imagination explanation, yeah,” sam finishes, voice scratchy through the speaker. both of them are silent for a second, dean shoveling fries into his mouth while he sits in the long ass pick-up line outside of the school. “and, you know, jude doesn’t seem like she’d make things up.”
dean almost snorts. he’s talking about the little girl that still puts mr. bear bear at the kitchen table when they eat dinner, still makes dean make him a plate and everything.
but he’s right, about this. jude had stopped asking her prying questions about you the moment dean told her the truth, so it didn’t make sense for her to suddenly tell him this, insisting that her mother talked to her—
“she died like mom did,” sam continues, his voice softer, more sincere. “which could mean—”
“that she’s one of those chosen special kids like you were, yeah, i know.” dean shakes his head. the thought makes his stomach feel like it’s bottoming out. he shoves the fast food bag further into the passenger seat, appetite vanished. “m’not thinkin’ about that right now.”
sam scoffs into the speaker. “you’ll have to. and if you don’t tell her now—”
“do not fucking tell me, sammy,” he says through gritted teeth, moving the phone from his shoulder to properly hold it at his ear, “how to raise my kid.”
“dean.” sam’s sincerity makes dean want to kill him, in this moment. “you can get cute little kid questions now, or you can get resentment later.”
dean’s eyes flick up to the front entrance of the school, to the hundreds of kids piling out of the doors. in the midst is his kid, her tiny feet carrying her quickly to his car. “gotta go, sammy. good talk.”
he hangs up before sammy can get another word in. realistically, he knows sam is right, but that doesn’t make him happy about it. what little kid doesn’t want to have superpowers? and what teenager wants to be outcasted? the choice was clear. just… uncomfortable.
jude throws up the front passenger seat door, tossing her backpack onto the ground with a hard thump. “fun first day?” dean asks, automatically scanning over her. no injuries, hair still in the loose waves from the fallen out braid, dress still in tact, shoes both still on—
“boring.” she sighs, climbing up into the seat with practiced ease. her eyes light up at the greasy bag in her seat. “for me?”
“who else, pretty girl? i don’t see anyone else around.” dean waits until she’s nice and buckled up before he takes the car out of park and starts to — slowly — leave the school zone.
jude already has her fist shoved deeply into the bag, digging around. there’s half a box of fries left, half a burger — he got hungry, alright? it isn’t until her little fingers are shoving two fries in her mouth at once than dean asks it.
“any new updates from mommy?” hurts to say, hurts to think, but he can’t imagine being jude, potentially having a direct hotline to you on the other side, and not ever getting to see you. not knowing how great you were, besides the fact that you were her mommy.
jude shrugs her shoulders. “just a little one.”
dean’s fingers tap idly on the steering wheel. “and? what was it?”
jude’s chewing with her mouth open, half bitten fries hanging out of her hand. “she said, ‘always.’ but i dunno what the heck mommy was talking about.”
dean knew. and maybe the sun was a little brighter now, and maybe the clouds looked a little bit more like you.
teenager.
“hey, jude,” dean sighs, a frown already tugged deeply on his lips at the sight of his daughter standing on the stairs, still dressed in her pajamas.
she’d been sadder lately. wouldn’t talk. wouldn’t open up. he’d pushed a little too hard, and now he was suffering the tail end of the silent treatment. tail end because he was certain that she was going to talk to him, now. even if it wasn’t to let him inside that angsty head of hers.
jude had her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes full of a deep disappointment that no girl her age should know about, let alone replicate. “dad.”
see? he knew she would talk. it was… a very poor start, but a start nonetheless.
“m’sorry that i asked about…” he made a broad, vague gesture with his hand. “you know.”
“about my abilities, or about mom?” she snaps back, her eyebrows raising. one of her arms unwind from herself and the hand leans on the stairs’ railing. “because i have a feeling that you’re only sorry for one thing.”
damn it. dean has to close his eyes and count to ten. he’s had to do this a lot, recently. teenagers were not for the faint of heart, and jude was as sassy as they came, just like you’d been.
god, she looked so much like you. it was more evident now than anything, as she approached the age that you were when you…
“jude,” he starts, his hand moving to his face, scrubbing at it. his face is scruffier than usual, not in the mood to clean it up when his little girl was seething and hurting in the other room. who could do that? who could go about their routine while their daughter suffered? “you know i don’t use you to hear from her, right? you know that?”
jude bristles. another wrong thing to say. he wants to be frustrated, but wasn’t he just like this as a teenager too? expecting everyone to know what he was thinking and what he wanted? “well, you never ask about the others.”
“the others?”
“the others,” she echoes again, like he’s the stupidest guy that’s ever walked this planet. “you never ask about grandma—”
“don’t wanna know about grandma,” he says instantly.
her eyes roll. “don’t ask about grandpa, either.”
“especially don’t wanna know about him.” dean’s figured out, in his own way, at his own pace, that his father’s treatment toward him wasn’t kind. all of the expectations placed on him were not normal, and were entirely neglectful as they were harsh.
it took having his own kid to figure that out, sure, but he did. it should count for something.
“why are you talking to grandma and grandpa, anyways?”
“because they’re telling me things!” she shouts, her lip starting to wobble. dean didn’t mean to break through to her like this, but he did, and he’s thankful, in a way, for the progress. “they’re saying—”
dean waits. he knows better than to approach without warning, has learned just how mean a teenage girl can get if you try and comfort her in the ways that she liked as a kid. he also knows that asking will only push her away. that’s how they’d gotten here, after all.
“they keep saying something bad is going to happen.”
dean blinks in alarm. “what?” he takes a step forward anyways, and he can’t help but reach out now. his hand closes around her wrist lightly, waiting for her to pull back. she doesn’t. that’s how dean knows that she’s serious, that she’s afraid. “what are they saying, princess?”
her free hand lifts to wipe at her eyes, the irises that match his own locking and holding his stare. he can almost see the little girl in them, again; the one that was so curious, had so many questions, that looked at him like he held them in his palms.
“grandma says she’ll be here for me,” she whimpers, shaking her head, “grandpa says to stay strong. mom says…”
dean holds his breath. as much as he hates jude thinking that he uses her to hear from you, each update on what you say sticks in his mind until the next comes. he’s selfish, selfish, selfish.
“mama says she’s so, so sorry.”
dean is floored. it’s all so vague, all of the messages that come through the veil and into jude’s heart are always so vague, like the energy it takes to reach her is too much, and so they try to condense it down, but it’s an unintelligible mess.
he can only think that that means something is going to happen to him. if the ghosts of his past are comforting her, that means that something godawful is in the plans for him.
he tries to keep up a strong appearance, but the thought of abandoning jude, his little girl, makes him want to be sick.
“that’s just ghost speak,” he tries to say lightheartedly, his thumb gently tracing circles on her inner wrist, trying to soothe her worries about his impending death. god, this was the worst update of them yet. he’d thought hearing your promise to watch over her always was hard, but this… “you know how they are. vague, unhelpful, stirrin’ the pot from the other side because they're bored…”
“mama’s never done that to me.” jude is starting to close off now. how come all of his worst traits made it into her, mixed in with all of your best traits? every time he’d come to terms with the fact that the only thing jude got of his was his eyes, something else peeked out, rearing its ugly head.
stubborn. hot-headed. reserved.
he couldn’t bear to see it all reflected back at him in her identical eyes.
dean doesn’t want her to keep pulling away, disappearing into her mind, a mind so much older than it needed to be. jude was only sixteen. there was no reason for her to bear all of this, to wear it so blatantly on her face.
“it’s little glimpses into the future,” he says instead of reassurances that don’t land, “right? you hear them speak to you when they can manage it, and it coincides with the—”
“visions,” jude fills in, nodding. every time sammy came over, they talked about this shared connection they had. it makes dean a little more angry than it should, that sam had this one-up on him, when it came to connecting with his impossibly-reserved daughter. “the visions.”
dean nods along with her, letting go of her wrist finally. “so what was the vision this time?”
dean’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. he doesn’t answer it. sam usually calls a few times after dean’s initial lack of response, and he either picks up if he’s freed before the routine comes to a close, or he just calls back when he can. right now, he wasn’t abandoning his daughter for anything.
the phone stops ringing. jude must have been waiting for it to, before she spoke, because her words are firm and confident. “you were there.”
dean closes his eyes. he expected this, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt still.
“you were there, and you had blood all over you—” her lip is trembling again. his phone is ringing again. “and you were screaming, your voice was nearly gone…”
his mind cuts back to his time in hell, when all he could do was scream as he was tortured relentlessly. every piece added up.
his phone stops for a few seconds, starts up again. dean pulls it out of his pocket to turn it off. “that it?”
jude’s eyes snap back into focus. “that’s it.”
he’s devastated. all sixteen years of jude’s life, he wished that you were here alongside him. now, more than anything, he wished it too. he’d be abandoning your daughter. leaving her to face the real world alone, by herself. he could have handled it — at least better than now — if he knew he’d be leaving jude with you, but—
“we’ll figure it out, okay?” he says softly, and when he pulls jude into his arms, she doesn’t pull away. she buries her face into his chest like she used to when she was smaller, less broken on the inside.
he wished you were here, too, with your ability to stop time. keep him and you and jude in this moment forever, before he was taken away from her.
young adult.
“hey, hey, jude,” dean’s voice trembles, shock and adrenaline at war in his veins. he’d never moved so fast in his life, catching her before she could tumble to the ground.
her body folds on itself anyways, blood staining her chin, pooled in the corners of her lips. her mouth opens and closes, and no words come out, only the sound of gurgles as her throat fills with blood.
her chest is so red that it’s black, shining under the moonlight. there, beneath her shirt, was a gunshot wound, fabric torn open where the collision happened.
this wasn’t supposed to happen. this wasn’t supposed to happen. jude asked for anything, and he gave it to her, even when she was twenty-one now, and a lot of parents would take that as meaning it was time for her to find her own footing.
how could she without trying the things that she wanted? she knew about how he used to hunt. was desperate to see what it was like, just once, at least, before he was stolen away. five years later, he was still kicking strong, and he thought — he thought it would be okay. just a lone vampire on the outskirts of kansas.
the drive had been fun. easy. he let jude drive baby a little, let her pick the music for once, and somehow fell asleep to the lullaby that was metallica. being raised by him had embedded itself into her nature, it seemed.
he didn’t anticipate that he was, maybe, out of practice. maybe a bit too old for this. it was no wonder that his dad was gone for long periods of time on hunts because it took a while to get things right, when your body was slowing and your defenses were weakening.
he hadn’t seen the gun. he hadn’t seen the gun. he—
“jude?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. “jude, baby, c’mon, open your eyes—”
“dad?” her voice is barely even a breath, wet and thick and faint. “dad, what’s… what’s happening?” jude’s mouth is opening and closing again. she coughs, and blood splatters onto his shirt, onto the wetness seeping through hers. “i don’t feel good.” her grip on his hand is loosening. his tightens.
dean’s phone rings in his pocket. sam. has to be sam. no one else ever calls him but sam, anymore, and jude. but jude was here bleeding out. sam, sam, sam, if he could spare a few seconds to answer it—
but his eyes dart away and in that moment, jude’s eyes start to roll back into her head, and he panics. he pulls her tighter to his chest with one arm, letting go of her hand to fumble for his phone. it stops ringing.
“just keep talking, baby girl, c’mon,” he mumbles, and he wants to shake her, he wants to force her eyes open, to force every bit of his life force into her. it was on a time limit anyways, right?
his heart stops. his phone starts ringing again, or maybe it’s just his ears.
grandma says she’ll be here for me.
grandpa says stay strong.
mama says—
dean feels his stomach lurch, his throat full of bile and tight with the growing lump in it. it was never him that was going to die. it was never him.
it took five years for her fate to reach her. fate was so fucking fickle like that; turning your brain into a worried muddle of mess all the while knowing and withholding the exact things that worried you.
he looks down at himself, and he’s covered in blood. and he knows exactly when he’ll start screaming to the point of losing his voice.
“dad, it’s so cold,” jude says through a small sob, tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. “it’s so—”
dean isn’t going to tell her, that she saw her own death five years prior. that this was the moment they’d been dreading, but reversed. tears pool in his eyes and spill over like waterfalls, turning the blood on her face watery and pink.
“it’s okay,” he promises, his voice shaking, tremoring. “it’s okay, baby girl.”
it wasn’t okay. but he’d been keeping secrets and sparing her from the truth for years now, when he could. maybe she’d forgive him for it. but he was not strong enough to let her feel bad for his mistakes this time.
“i’m sorry,” she chokes out, another coughing fit bursting from her blood-slickened mouth. “i’m s’sorry—”
“nothing to apologize for, pretty princess,” he says, and his voice strains through his throat like it’s being cut by shards of glass. “you have always, always been the perfect little girl. even now, look at you. trying to apologize to me, when—”
dean doesn’t finish. his lips pull into a forced, small smile. “do you remember when you were a little girl?”
jude doesn’t react. doesn’t move. each moment between her chest rising and falling is growing longer. “you’d be scared of the shadows in your closet, or of the voices you heard that i didn’t,” he explains anyways, each breath of his own trembling, “and you’d make me sing to you. remember? like my mama — like grandma used to, with me.”
her lips quirk ever so slightly, her eyes distant, foggy. “hey, jude.”
he nods. his grip on her gets tighter, like he can hug the life back into her. but dean can’t. he’s not the son with the abilities, or the dad with the magic or the answers, or you, who could stop time in this moment and call someone while the clock stayed still. he’s just dean, and he’s losing the last piece of you he had left, and the pieces of his daughter that he loved so, so much.
“i don’t want you scared right now,” he whispers, moving her carefully in his arms to cradle her. he used to wish that she’d stop growing, would always stay small enough to fit in his arms. it feels like a sick joke now. “so if you want me to sing, i’ll sing.”
“okay,” jude says, and her eyes lock onto his for a brief second, before they start to fade again.
the words fall from his mouth in shuddering, shaky gasps, his eyes locked on jude’s. jude’s, that are open and unmoving. jude’s, that have always matched his, the one thing that she got from him.
his voice is raw, echoing in the abandoned den, screaming so loud that it would have woke the dead up, if it worked that way. but it didn’t, because jude didn’t move, and the world was silent and buzzing in his ears, or maybe it was his phone ringing again, again, again, and the only thing that played in his head was the song that used to comfort him.
hey jude, don't make it bad. take a sad song and make it better. remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.
tags, @depressionbarbie2023 @jasvtsc @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @cosmicanakin
@beausling @whyyouegg @ostaramoon @ultravi0lence14 @bombarda-babe
i fr don't know who esle to tag the more ppl i tag the more i will have to say sorry to
the girl behind the wheel . . . dean winchester & reader !
summary. the last thing dean expected was for his car to disappear & in its place, you to be left. he also never expected to have to worry, still, about you getting stolen. warnings. men r pigs!! sequel to this ask !
it's not like you asked to be made into a human or anything. dean seemed to operate on that idea, though, that this was all your choice. he looked at you with pure grief in his eyes, and something that seemed much more akin to exasperation than the unwilling reluctance you thought he was beginning to fall into.
"i have to get a new car." he's openly, dramatically, pouting.
you shrug. his jacket has now become your jacket, because shoplifting clothes for you meant snatching the cheap shit in the back of the store that people wouldn't realize were missing until it was too late, which left you in summery clothes in the dead of winter.
"that's all you have to say for yourself?"
dean is looking at you with that quizzical stare he gets, like he expects you to have some sort of answer for why you were like this. you didn't know. you just got here.
"steal one." you look around the parking lot of the little strip mall he'd taxi'ed you both to, and nod toward a big black truck towering above the other cars. "that one."
dean follows the direction of your finger and snorts. "no way in hell. that guy's gonna notice immediately that that thing is missing."
just like how dean noticed that you were missing, when the tides shifted or the moon phased at a certain time, and suddenly you were a girl by a light pole and not a car parked under the streetlight. that was understandable.
dean runs a hand over his face, turning his back to you again in that way that didn't fully seem to indict you, but it didn't really make you feel like an innocent party in this.
you could help. of course you could help. dean wanted a car, that car was the scariest in the area, he couldn't take that one with force, so...
the front windshield has "DEER HUNTIN" sprawled into the glass in an ugly, abrasive font. dean was a hunter. he wore lots of layers, even when he'd be driving in the dead of summer. you just needed to find a guy in lots of layers.
so you disappear, ducking into one of the little businesses in the mall with hunting & fishing goods on the big sign out front. everyone in there sort of looks the same, the whole place smells a little like oil and a lot like dirt and hay, and you think that you've made a poor judgement call until you find him.
big guy, as big as the truck in the parking lot. camouflage hat and jacket. dirt all over his jeans. a t-shirt beneath the jacket that says i like my girls like i like my bucks: big and horny. he's your guy. he's so your guy.
"hi, sir," you say, trying to puff out your chest in that way that dean hates but makes you feel a little bit taller and on his level. the guy looks over at you in a way that dean also does, sometimes, but he's much more obvious about it than dean is. "is that yours?"
you point to the truck in the parking lot.
the guy puffs his chest up, too, and now you really don't know why dean hates it, when it just seems to be a dude thing. "it sure is, pretty thing," he drawls, putting the box of ammo back on the shelf, "you want a ride in it?"
"no thank you." you hold out your hand instead. "can i have the keys?"
he laughs. your face visibly falls, and he laughs a little harder. "won't go for a ride with me but expects me to fork over my keys. i'll be damned. what's your name?"
"baby."
"baby," he doesn't say it like dean does, with awe and reverence and sentiment. he says it like it tastes filthy in his mouth. "tell you what. go on a little ride with me, and i'll let you take it for a spin."
"no thank you." how many times did a girl have to tell a man no? seriously. "i just want the keys."
the door to the shop dings, the echo of the bell ricocheting around the spacious area. "baby?" dean's voice. you are so helpless to the way that you light up at the sound of it. "baby, you better—"
he cuts himself off, his eyes landing directly on you. you can always tell when dean's looking at you. there's something physical and innate in the way his gaze rests like its own sort of blanket over your skin.
the guy behind you nods toward dean. "that your boyfriend?"
"no. that's my driver."
you could not possibly be more clear, but the guy's face twists up. "so why the hell do you need my keys?"
dean is at your side now, a hand on your hip and a grimace on his face. he tends to wear that look a lot around you, now, even though you still catch glimpses of the fondness when he thinks you're not looking.
"she doesn't." dean pulls you a little more into his side, and you grin. he's always so warm. "sorry 'bout that."
"keep your girl leashed, alright?" the guy scoffs, turning back to the shelves full of ammo boxes. "she's tryin' to get into trouble she can't handle."
you could handle a lot of things. you'd been crashed a few times. you'd been long overdue of an oil change. you were pretty sure that dean was conceived in you, which was an entirely other sort of thing you didn't even want to think about. were doing pretty well without thinking on it, thank you. you could handle things, and it wasn't fair that this stranger thought he knew you based on one interaction that you were certain was going just fine.
dean seems to sense that you're about to dig a deeper hole for yourself, and so he starts to tug you away. "yeah, yeah, she's leashed," dean grumbles, his teeth gritted together. he doesn't like the guy either, it seems.
you barely take a step away before dean's turning to you again with that look of unadulterated exasperation. again. "what the hell was all that?"
"you said we couldn't steal it because he'd know." like, did dean just... forget that conversation in a two minute span, or what? "so i went to ask him for the keys."
dean's lips flatten. he's really, seriously trying to keep the blank expression but the twitch of his dimples gives away his amusement. "no."
"yes." you reach into dean's jacket pocket over your shoulders and hold out the keys. "got them, too."
"he gave them over?"
you smile. and that's how you know that dean was yours and you were his, and that even if he was getting premature gray hairs from you, he still adored you. "no. i was just letting him know i was taking it. i wasn't really asking."
dean laughs this time. well and truly laughs, holding the shop's door open for you. "you are somethin' else."
"i'm helping," you correct, looking down at the key fob in your fingers. you press the unlock button, but the truck's headlights don't light up. it sits as idle as ever.
the car next to it, a model close to yours but not quite as well taken care of, beeps in acknowledgement.
you pass the keys over to dean, practically skipping toward the impala in utter glee. the cards always worked in your favor, didn't they? you'd been with the winchesters for three generations, passed down like an heirloom, but this was the one that loved you the most, and now you could finally show it.
"scratch that, baby," dean says as he catches up to you, catching you around the waist to drag you in for a kiss on the temple, "you're a goddamn godsent."
yes. you definitely were.
notes. forgot i wrote the first part to this, and then this came into my head, and it made me giggle so i had to write it. pls enjoy
tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @sunsettsam @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @couturewinx @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra
can u make being lee byung hun’s young non-showbiz gf,, but the oc is like rlly rllly prettyyy ( prolly like alexandra saint mleux she’s so gorg) so there are artists/influencers that are trying to hit on her,, but then lbh posted their pics n like hard launched her n stuff to show that she has a bf ??? 😭🥵🤍
MINE | LEE BYUNG-HUN
PAIRING. lee byung-hun x fem!reader
─────౨ৎ─────
yourusername
liked by kyliejenner and others
yourusername siri play guess by Charli xcx
view comments
user6 yo are u single?
randomuser @/user6 interesting thing to say
ynswifey I would love to call u mine
tom.m107 answer ur dms
elliot_hockey22 god damn
ynandmore why r there so many men here omg
user @/ynandmore Frl get outta here
user39 petition for u to be more active on ig
yourusername
liked by byunghun0712 and 45, 298 others
yourusername gold jewelry is *chefs kiss*
view comments
missynandmore thank you for feeding us more content
userrro barking rn
emma.89t where is your top from?
ynswifey comme back home. the kids miss you
zam_129 4+4
jessw_wch I missed your posts
yourusername @/jessw_wch I missed doing this
nate.trmly 🔥🔥
yourusername
liked by emmachamberlain and 78, 243 others
yourusername turn that shi up
view comments
chase.acheck yo when r u inviting me 😂?
girlworld @/chase.acheck keep dreaming dude
byunghun0712 ❤️
liked by author
leo777.champ anybody know if she’s single?
user1 @/leo777.champ even if she was I don’t think she would date u
trenttkwn you fine asf
girlblogger @/trenttkwn the testosterone in these comments is insane
yourusername
liked by ynfanpage and 69, 539 others
yourusername gateaway car
view comments
nicholasgalitzine 🔥
mel.and.issa queen
jack00s where u from
byunghun0712 @/jack00s she doesn’t want to talk to you
jack00s @/byunghun0712 who tf even r u? acting like you know her
missynyln AHHHH IM GONNA HAVE A HEART ATTACK
user45 what cam do u use???
yourbestfriendsuser kiss me
yourusername @/yourbestfriendsuser come here 💋
byunghun0712
liked by yourusername and 49, 109 others
byunghun0712 never been more thankful and lucky to have you
view comments
user wait what
yourfriendsuser GOD I LOVE YOU BOTH
ynandmore this is news to me
girlblogger @/ynandmore to all of us actually
yourusername IM THE ONE THATS LUCKY
liked by author
nicholasalexanderchavez @/yourusername happy for you, I think
The Gas Station
pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pregnant!Reader
summary: Y/n is in her final trimester of her pregnancy and Rafe is eager to make sure the birth of his first baby goes smoothly, but thanks to Y/n's stubbornness they find themselves stuck in a pretty sticky situation with the last two people they expected.
a/n: So I watched "We Live In Time" yesterday and I loved the movie so much that I wanted to rewrite the childbirth scene from it cause it was my favourite! Rafe is so 'grumpy to everyone else but soft for her' core in this. Ps: I’ve never given birth so this might not be too accurate, don’t kill me
warnings: Spoilers for the 'we live in time' childbirth scene, mentions of contractions, labour, childbirth (pretty visual ig?), mentions of a zoot but no smoking, mentions of alcohol but no drinking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The living room of the Chateau was warm and filled with the low hum of conversation. Sarah was sprawled on the floor, while Kiara leaned back against the couch, discussing the possibilities of the new Cameron baby being a boy or girl. Pope sat at the kitchen table, half-focused on whatever book he had cracked open, pen scribbling against the paper trying to figure out the probability the mathematical way, and Cleo lounged near the window, lazily watching the wind shift the trees outside as they all spoke to one another
Y/n was sitting on the couch opposite Sarah and Kiara, half-listening, half-focused on the cookie in her hand as her other one rubbed over her large, rounded belly. Sarah grinned as she caught Y/n eyeing the cookie.
“What, are my cookies that good?”
Y/n opened her mouth to answer but suddenly sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand instinctively flew to her lower stomach, the cookie forgotten on the side of the couch.
Rafe, who had been leaning against the doorway, taking the time to admire the girl in her last couple of days of pregnancy, immediately straightened. His relaxed expression vanished. She had been persistent that she wanted to come and visit Sarah and the Pogue’s at the chateau, and as much as he protested, knowing the due date of their baby was any day now, she managed to sway him with those pleading eyes of hers and small pout, which he couldn’t seem to say no to.
“What’s wrong?”
His voice softened, but there was a thread of tension running through it as he crossed the room in two quick steps. Y/n didn’t answer right away. She squeezed her eyes shut, shifting to the edge of the sofa and placing both hands on her belly. She took in a slow, shaky breath.
“I… think I’m having contractions.”
The room fell into a sudden, heavy silence as they all looked at eachother.
Sarah blinked. “Wait, what? Like, actual contractions?”
Cleo sat up straighter, eyeing her. “No way sweet thing, maybe you just ate too many of them damn cookies huh?”
“Okay, that’s it. We’re leaving. Right now.”
Rafe’s face paled and he was already patting his pockets for the car keys, panic creeping into his voice as he grabbed the girl’s shoes from next to the door. Pope closed his book slowly, brows furrowed.
“Hold on, how far apart are they? That matters, right?”
Kiara leaned forward, calm but attentive. “Yeah, how bad was that one? Like, on a scale of one to ‘get in the car’?”
Y/n exhaled slowly, leaning her head back. “It wasn’t that bad. Just… caught me off guard. I’m fine.”
“Fine? You just said you’re having contractions!”
Sarah gawked her eyes wide with disbelief. She had been buzzing with excitement ever since she found out she was going to be an aunt. The girl had been planning baby showers and picking out names for months, practically bouncing off the walls with anticipation that her brother was going to be a father, and that he’d changed so much since the couple had found out about their little angel. And now, that Y/n was in labour, and she couldn’t help but feel a mixture of concern and sheer excitement.
“She said ‘think,’” Cleo corrected, smirking. “Key word, Sarah. Could just be gas, ya know?”
Y/n let out a weak laugh. “Thanks for that, Cleo.”
Rafe didn’t laugh. He crouched in front of her, eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress, “Y/n, we should go. The hospital’s all the way in Figure 8, and we’re in the Cut, that’s not a quick drive.”
Y/n shook her head, breathing steadily, she’d noticed how he’d been on edge for the past few weeks, his nerves fraying with every little thing. Rafe cared about her more than he ever thought possible- she was everything to him. The thought of losing her or their baby terrified him to his core, he couldn’t bear the thought of not being there for her, of not protecting the two most important people in his life.
“Rafey, that was the first contraction, my waters not even broken yet. We have time.”
“No, we don’t,” he snapped, then caught himself and softened his tone, letting out a sigh, “I just… I don’t want to risk it, okay?”
Kiara, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression surprised to see the once frat boy asshole so attentive, leaned over to Sarah.
“Is he always this dramatic?”
“Oh yeah, it's become a talent.”
Pope stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Look, if they’re still spaced out, you probably have hours. First babies take their time. But we should keep track.” As he looked around the kitchen drawers for something, cutlery clanged in them as he opened and shut the wooden furniture, finally fishing out an old plastic stopwatch.
Rafe shot him a glare, “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly betting on that.”
Y/n reached for Rafe’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Lets just sit here for a bit more please. If they get worse, we’ll go.”
Rafe stared at her for a long moment, then let out a frustrated breath. “Fine. But if anything changes, we’re out of here. No arguments.”
“No arguments.”
She responded as she smiled in agreement, leaning forward slightly to give the boy a quick peck on the lips. Reluctantly, Rafe sat beside her, shuffling so she rested against his side, his hand protectively resting on her belly, a place it had gotten used to resting on in the past few months. Sarah cleared her throat.
“So… does this mean more cookies, or…?”
Y/n laughed out nodding her head with wide eyes and Cleo snorted at the girl's reaction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The room had grown quieter, but the tension clung to the air as Rafe stood by the window, pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. His free hand raked over his short hair as he listened to the calm, too-casual voice on the other end of the line.
“What do you mean we shouldn’t come in yet?” Rafe snapped, disbelief lacing his voice.
“She’s in labour!”
The nurse on the other end responded evenly, used to anxious fathers. “Sir, unless her contractions are between three to five minutes apart, there’s no point in coming now. First-time labours can take hours, sometimes longer. You’ll be more comfortable at home.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Do you know who I am?” his tone dropped, sharp and cold, “My family practically owns half this island, and you’re telling me to just sit around and wait?”
From the couch, Sarah groaned audibly and rolled her eyes.
“Oh my God.”
She pushed off the armrest and stormed over, snatching the phone from Rafe’s hand before he could say another word and pressed it to her ear,
“Hi, sorry about him,” Sarah said sweetly into the phone, giving Rafe a sharp glare. “We’ll keep an eye on things and call if anything changes. Thanks for your help.”
She hung up and tossed the phone onto the table.
“Are you serious right now?” she snapped. “Pulling the Cameron card on a nurse? What was that supposed to do- magically speed up labor?”
Rafe’s eyes flashed angrily as he looked down to his younger sister, his finger jabbing into his chest as he spoke, “I’m trying to make sure she’s safe, Sarah! We’re stuck in this shithole cause you've,” his raised his finger pointing it to his temple, “put some voodoo spell on her so she doesn't want to leave and no one seems to care!”
Cleo looked over from where she was sitting, flipping her pocket knife, her eyebrows raised, clearly impressed by his sudden bizarre speculation. Sarah crossed her arms.
“Yelling at the hospital won’t fix that. You need to calm down before you stress her out even more.”
Rafe opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of the back door creaking open cut him off. Kiara stepped in, shaking off the light drizzle from outside, a bright blue yoga ball awkwardly tucked under her arm.
“Found it!” she grinned, holding it out like a trophy.
Y/n’s face lit up despite the discomfort. “Oh, thank God.”
Kiara rolled it over to her, and Y/n carefully shifted forward, accepting it gratefully.
“I heard these help,” Kiara said with a small smile.
Y/n slowly eased herself onto the ball, her hands holding onto Kiara’s outstretched ones in support before she sat down on the plastic sphere starting to gently bounce. A relieved sigh slipped from her lips.
“Oh wow… yeah, this is way better.”
Sarah smirked. “Look, see? This is called helping, Rafe.”
Cleo, still lounging by the window, spoke up. “Yeah man, maybe if you threaten the ball next it’ll really speed things up.”
Pope cracked a small smile from his spot at the table at the girl’s words. Rafe, still tense, exhaled sharply and dropped into a chair by the kitchen table, rubbing his hands over his face. His eyes drifted to Y/n, watching her breathe easier with each bounce. As he watched her, he realised he seemed to be more stressed than she was, but was he in the wrong for that? He only wanted to make sure the mother of his child could have the most comfort possible. Without a word, he pushed up from his chair and slowly crossed the room. He crouched down in front of her, eyes locked on her face, his hands resting lightly on her knees.
“Baby… are you sure you want to stay here?”
His voice was softer now, the edge gone, replaced by something fragile. Y/n blinked down at him, her breathing steady. She lifted one hand from her belly and gently cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing along his skin which was still smooth from when he shaved before they left their home.
“Rafey, please relax, yeah?” she murmured, her other hand drifting to rest protectively over her bump. “We’re okay.”
The weight in his chest loosened just a little at the sound of her voice, but it didn’t disappear.
Rafe leaned in just a bit closer. “Okay, but when you start feeling off you tell me, yeah?”
Y/n gave him a playful eye roll, but her smile was soft. She leaned forward, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips once more, she knew he was on edge, but she just wanted peace for the last few hours it was going to be just the two of them.
“Yes, I promise.”
Rafe’s shoulders finally dropped as he let out a quiet breath, grounding himself in her touch. Behind them, Kiara exchanged a look with Sarah and smirked.
“Well, that’s gross.”
Sarah laughed under her breath at her best friend's comments, shaking her head, but there was a warmth in her smile as she watched them. As much as she teased, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of happiness for her brother. It was clear that Y/n had done something to him- something that had changed him for the better, something that made him softer, more present. Sarah could see it in the way he looked at her, how much he cared. It warmed her heart to know her brother had found someone who truly made him happy.
Rafe didn’t hear the girls giggling as his focus was completely on Y/n, “Alright,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along her knee before standing.
“Just… don’t scare me like that again.”
Y/n smiled, leaning back and resuming her gentle bounce on the yoga ball hands circling her bump again.
“No promises.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours had passed the sky outside the windows now dark, the streetlamps having switched on which caused an orange glow around the island, but time seemed to stretch as the intensity of Y/n’s contractions grew. The living room was dim, the rain outside tapping softly on the windows, the air thick with anticipation.
Y/n was on her knees, her body leaning against the couch for support. Her face clearly reflected her discomfort, lips pressed together in effort as she rocked back and forth slowly, trying to breathe through the latest wave of pain. Rafe kneeled beside her, one hand gently rubbing her back, the other resting on her arm. His voice was low, soothing, a steady presence as he spoke to her.
“Is it passing?”
Y/n groaned softly, her breath hitching before she let out a quiet whine, barely audible.
“Yeah… it’s passing.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he kept his hand on her back, massaging in slow circles, his eyes never leaving her face. He looked up to Pope, who was standing near the window, timing her contractions with the stopwatch hanging loosely around his neck.
Pope glanced at the timer, then back at Rafe. “Okay, that’s about ten minutes apart now, but getting closer.”
Rafe’s gaze shifted back to Y/n, his concern deepening. He rubbed her back a little harder, as if that would somehow ease her discomfort, “Sweet girl,” he murmured gently, leaning closer, his breath warm against her ear.
“I think we should get going now, hmm? The hospital’s still a bit of a drive.”
Y/n, in a small haze of pain, didn’t answer immediately. She just rested her head against her arms on the couch, humming out in agreement. Her nod was slow, but definite.
“Mmhm… yeah, let’s go,” she whispered, her voice small and weary.
Rafe exhaled, relief flooding through him but mixing with the urgency that had been building in his chest. He helped her slowly rise, supporting her as she stood, her legs somewhat unsteady beneath her.
“Alright, that's it”
As Rafe helped Y/n slowly stand, Sarah came rushing down the stairs, her face flushed from the hurry. Cleo was right behind her, holding a bag in one hand and a frantic expression on her face.
“Rafe!” Sarah called out, her voice breathless. “We got the bag Y/n left last time.”
She handed it over to Rafe, but before he could take it, Cleo swiped it from her hands with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
“Let the man take her to the car,” Cleo said, “I got this.”
Cleo gave Rafe a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning to Y/n. “You’re good, girl. Just focus on not giving birth in here, aight?”
Y/n let out a soft chuckle, despite the tension in the air. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” she repeated, her voice calm and steady. Rafe shot Cleo a grateful look, still holding Y/n’s arm as she stood by herself, steady on her feet.
“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath, before turning back to Y/n. “Okay, baby, let’s get you to the car. You sure you’re alright to walk?”
Y/n gave him a sideways glance, rolling her eyes a little. “I’m fine, Rafe, really.”
But before they could make it to the door, Kiara popped up, her eyes wide with a mixture of concern and determination. “Wait, wait, don’t leave without me I want to say goodbye!”
Sarah quickly followed behind, carrying a jacket for Y/n, while Pope grabbed his keys, shaking his head in amusement. The group swarmed around Y/n, helping her navigate the small space. It was a chaotic rush of arms and voices as everyone tried to keep the situation under control- except for Y/n, who was walking at a steady pace, looking far calmer than anyone else in the room. It was amusing, watching everyone fuss over her, she couldn't wait till the baby was here and they’d have all their aunts and uncles fussing at their every cry.
“I swear, I’m fine,” she said again, giving Rafe a teasing smile as she walked on her own. “I’ve got this.”
Rafe’s eyes were glued to her, his brow furrowed in concern, but a small smile tugged at his lips as he followed her toward the door.
“Alright, if you say so,” he muttered, his voice low but full of warmth.
The car was already parked outside, the engine running, the group had gathered around the car, each of them offering their well-wishes as Y/n leaned against the car door, not wanting to get in till Rafe came out. He’d gone back in to the bathroom and Sarah had scolded him for being an ‘unprofessional dad-to-be’ which he told her to ‘fuck off’. Sarah called out, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Good luck, Y/n! Let us know when Baby Cameron gets here!”
“You got this,” Kiara added, offering a smile. “Call us if you need anything- I mean we can’t give birth but you know….”
Cleo, arms crossed and leaning against the car, smirked. “Don’t be taking forever, yeah? I wanna meet the little Poguette!”
“Poguette? We don’t know the gender yet” Pope asked as he turned to the girl eyebrows drawn down into a small confused frown
“Don’t worry- auntie Cleo’s got a feeling” She responded with a wide smile as she winked to Y/n causing her to giggle.
“I think you mean Kookette not Poguette”
Rafe spoke up as he appeared back from the house helping the girl into her seat. Y/n, sitting in the car, gave them all a tired but genuine smile, her face a little flushed from the effort. “I’ll do my best. Don’t worry, you’ll all get your chance to meet Baby Cameron soon.”
Rafe was about to close the door when she paused.
“Wait!”
The group froze, and all eyes snapped toward her, panic flashing in their faces for a brief second.
“Is everything okay? Are you—?” Sarah started, her tone suddenly worried.
Y/n looked up at her friends, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. Biting her bottom lip gently before she spoke out,
“Are there any of those cookies left?”
The entire group stared at her for a beat, then burst into laughter, the tension breaking in an instant. Kiara snorted. “Nope, you ate them all, girl, not a crumb left.”
Y/n’s face dropped in exaggerated disappointment. “Aw, man… they were so good.”
Rafe, who had just started to walk around the front of the car, stopped and turned back to her with a grin. “Come on, baby. You’ll get your cookies in the hospital. I promise.”
“Guess that’ll have to do.”
Y/n sighed softly, leaning back into her seat with a deep breath. Kiara leaned in the window, shaking her head but grinning. “You’re gonna eat cookies while in labor…?”
“Hey, it’s what I want.”
Rafe sighed, shaking his head at the girl, but he couldn’t hide the fond smile that crept onto his face as he finally closed the door. He muttered, half to himself, as he walked around to the driver’s side. “We’re getting you to the hospital, cookies or not.”
The group waved them off, still laughing and calling out their goodbyes, as Rafe got in the car. Y/n smiled at the familiar faces outside the window before the car pulled away, heading toward the hospital.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The drive from the Cut to Figure 8 was a blur. Rafe’s focus was entirely on the road, but his eyes kept flicking over to Y/n, every so often. She was gripping the handle on the roof of the car, her knuckles white as the pain of her contractions began to intensify. Rafe’s hand rested on her thigh, his fingers gently squeezing as he glanced at her.
“How we doing baby?”
He asked softly, though he could already see the tightness in her jaw, the way she was trying to breathe through the pain. Y/n groaned lowly, her grip on the car handle tightening as her breath hitched.
“Mmm, not great…”
She muttered, her voice strained. Her back arched slightly as another wave of pain hit, and her hand shifted to rest protectively on her belly. Rafe’s heart ached for her, but he kept his voice steady, trying to keep her calm.
“Breathe, baby. Yeah? Just like we practiced in the classes.”
His voice was gentle, encouraging, though it wasn’t lost on him how much harder it was for her now. Y/n nodded slightly, her eyes squeezing shut as she focused on her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Her whole body rocked with the rhythm, but it didn’t stop the groans slipping out of her.
“That’s it, baby. Good—”
“Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”
Her voice was sharp despite the pain, and Rafe froze for a moment, blinking in surprise at her words but he couldn't help but accept them with a nod. She was the one in labour not him. Y/n’s hand pressed harder against her bump as she groaned, her head resting back against the seat, her body arching slightly in response to the contraction.
She wasn’t having it.
Rafe couldn’t help but smile slightly at her attitude, but it was tender as he spoke, “Okay, okay,” he muttered, his hand still gently on her thigh. “I’m sorry.”
He kept his eyes on the road driving carefully, now that he had precious cargo in his car, but they would flicker occasionally to Y/n in the passenger’s seat. Always watching, always waiting, as they pushed forward toward the hospital. The pain was coming in waves now, each one crashing over her with more intensity than the last. Y/n’s body was tense, and her breathing was shallow, but she still managed to mutter through the strain,
“Sorry… just hurts…”
Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on the road, but Y/n could see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles went white around the wheel.
“You don’t need to apologize to me, baby,” Rafe said softly, his voice tight.
Y/n turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his for a split second. He looked anxious, his focus split between her and the road ahead. The tightness in his posture didn’t escape her, and she could see how much he was trying to hold it together. With a small, reassuring smile, Y/n placed her hand over his, which was still resting on her thigh. The touch was gentle but firm,
“Ready to meet Baby Cameron?”
She mumbled, her voice soft but sincere, trying to ease some of the stress in the car. Rafe’s breath hitched at the mention of their baby, and he glanced down at their hands, a small smile crossing his face. He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing gently across her skin.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m so lucky that you’re the mother of my child Y/n… I love you.”
She squeezed his hand back, her eyes softening as she leaned back against the seat. Her breath was steadier now, a calmness settling in her chest as she gave him a small, exhausted smile.
“I love you, too, Rafey,” she whispered back.
—
The car crawled forward for a few agonizing seconds before the engine came to a halt once more. Rafe slammed his hand against the horn in frustration, the sharp sound echoing through the stillness of the traffic. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, his jaw clenched tight.
“Fuck.”
He muttered under his breath, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of why the cars ahead weren’t moving. Y/n, breath coming in heavy bursts now, groaned quietly beside him, trying to steady herself as another wave of pain rolled through her.
“Rafe…”
“I know, baby, I know,” he spoke out to her, his voice tight with frustration. “No one’s fucking moving.”
She turned her head slowly, her hand resting on her belly as she let out another shaky breath. She could feel the tension radiating off him, could see the way his shoulders were hunched in that familiar way he got when he was stressed.
“Rafe, please… just relax,”
She said softly, though she was struggling to keep her own calm with each passing minute. It was no use because he could barely sit still anymore. Without another word, he threw the door open, slamming it behind him, and stepped out into the stagnant heat of the afternoon. Y/n’s eyes followed him through the windshield as he walked down the line of cars, frustration written in his tense shoulders. The bridge conjoining The Cut to Figure 8 stretched ahead, a long line of unmoving vehicles in both directions, but it seemed like nothing was happening. No one was getting anywhere.
Rafe walked halfway down the bridge, his eyes scanning the cars as he tried to figure out what was going on. He stopped beside a car with a window rolled down, the driver staring out at the traffic in the same defeated way everyone else was. Rafe stepped closer, his voice terse as he addressed the guy.
“What’s going on up there?”
The guy glanced at him, his face creased with annoyance. “Accident upfront and tree fell in the back. Gonna be stuck here for a while, man.”
Rafe let out a low curse, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck.”
He stood there for a second, staring at the endless line of cars, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. They were stuck. Stuck in the one place they couldn’t afford to be, halfway in the middle of nowhere. Taking a deep breath, Rafe turned around and started walking back toward the car. The frustration was palpable in every step, but it didn’t touch his determination. Rafe opened the door to the car, his eyes already scanning the area as he made his way back toward Y/n. But the moment his gaze landed on the seat next to him, his heart skipped a beat.
She wasn’t there.
His mind raced as he blinked, looking around the car in confusion. He slammed the door shut, his breath quickening as he jogged over to the other side of the vehicle, checking the backseat and the floor. Where the hell could she have gone? His pulse started to race- this wasn’t happening.
“Y/n?” he called out, his voice frantic.
He spun around, looking down the bridge, feeling the panic rise in his chest. She couldn’t have just disappeared, she’s literally a nine month pregnant woman, she wasn’t easy to lose. His eyes locked on a figure at the end of the bridge, and his heart dropped into his stomach.
There she was.
Y/n was standing at the far side of the bridge, her body leaning slightly against the wall, one hand resting gently on her bump. She looked serene in a way, her posture relaxed even in the midst of the chaos, but Rafe could see the slight tremor in her shoulders, the way she was swaying lightly from side to side. The air around him seemed to still as he watched her, his thoughts spiraling, but then he broke into a jog, moving toward her with urgency.
“Y/n!”
He called out again, his voice rough. She didn’t seem to hear him at first, or maybe she was just focused on the feeling of her own body, her eyes unfocused as she rubbed her belly in slow, soothing circles, looking down at her hand. Rafe’s steps quickened, and when he reached her side, he gently cupped her arm, his fingers warm against her skin.
“You can’t just run off like that! Are you crazy?”
His voice was sharp, but underneath it, the worry was clear. He wanted to scold her for being out of the car, but the relief flooding him kept him from doing anything but reaching for her. Y/n raised an eyebrow, unbothered by his scolding, as she gently rubbed her belly.
“I just wanted some air, Rafey,” she replied with a calmness that made Rafe’s frustration falter for a second.
“Jesus, woman,” he muttered, shaking his head. His shoulders dropped in exasperation as he sighed. “I—I don’t know what I’d do- what if I lost you huh?”
She smiled at his concern, “I'm nine months pregnant and in labour, I doubt I would’ve gotten very far Rafe.” A soft, reassuring smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, that helped calm some of the nerves still buzzing in his chest.
“C’mon, let’s get you back to the car,”
He said, his voice softer now, his hand gently brushing the hair away from her face as he guided her back, but as they started walking back toward the car, Y/n’s eyes drifted behind him, catching something in the distance. Rafe looked over his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
He asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. Y/n’s gaze lingered on the gas station behind them, her fingers lightly playing with his as she spoke.
“Really want some cookies right now…”
She said, her voice full of that playful lilt. Rafe blinked, taking a moment to process what she was saying before he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Are you serious right now?”
Y/n looked at him with a sweet, innocent expression. “Mmhmm.”
Rafe stared at her for a long moment, torn between disbelief and the need to smile. He glanced at the car, then at the standstill traffic behind him, a long sigh leaving his lips as the realization set in.
“Please?”
Y/n added, her voice soft but pleading, her hand still holding his with that familiar touch which guided his palm to rest it against her baby bump which made it hard for him to say no. Rafe’s lips curled into a reluctant smile.
“C’mon then,” he sighed, shaking his head in mock defeat. “Let’s just be quick, aight?”
And just like that, they veered off toward the gas station, Y/n’s determination to get her cookies almost making Rafe forget about the fact she was in labour, if it wasn’t for her groan every couple of minutes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door of the gas station swung open, the little golden bell above it ringing as soon as they stepped inside, Y/n’s breathing hitched. Rafe was right behind her, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, ready to support her. Yet the moment the door closed behind them, Y/n groaned loudly, the contraction hitting her with full force. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, and her hand instinctively went to her belly. A few people in the gas station glanced over, some in surprise, others in concern, but Rafe barely noticed them as he leaned closer to her, his voice low and calm.
“Let’s grab your cookies and go, baby,” he murmured, his breath brushing against her ear.
Y/n barely registered his words, still trying to push through the pain, her face scrunching in discomfort as she stepped forwards towards the sweet treat aisle. She let out another soft, pained groan as she leaned against the shelf, her hand gripping the cool metal for support.
She scanned the shelves in front of her, her eyes landing on a pack of cookies, double chocolate-chip. They weren’t Sarah’s but she guessed they would have to do. She grabbed one, then another right next to it, her body rocking slightly as she breathed heavily through the contraction.
Rafe stood behind her, watching in a mix of concern and frustration, trying to hold everything together while his brain screamed that they needed to hurry. He sighed quietly, trying to hold his patience as he watched whilst she picked up random things off the shelves- gatorade, crisps… a microwavable hot-dog for one? He furrowed his eyebrows at the girl as she shoved them all into his arms, groaning in distress, was she planning on having a picnic in the hospital?
“Is that good now?”
Rafe asked quietly, glancing at her with a raised brow as he balanced the pile of items in his arms. Y/n didn’t even look up at him. She was bent over slightly, both hands gripping onto the handles of the fridge, her body still rocking gently as the contraction slowly passed. She nodded, the sound of her breath steadying now.
“Mmhmm,”
She mumbled, barely able to focus on anything other than the sharp ache she was still feeling.
“Jesus,”
Rafe muttered under his breath, his frustration mixing with disbelief at the bizarre situation, as he moved toward the counter to pay. He tapped his foot impatiently, his eyes flicking from Y/n to the Rolex on his wrist. The seconds were ticking by, and every minute felt like an eternity. He glanced over his shoulder at the long queue in front of him, a subtle frown on his face. He hated waiting, but he hated even more that they were stuck in this gas station in the first place. Y/n was still by the fridge, her back slightly arched as she leaned against it, trying to breathe through the pain of another contraction. Her groan echoed loudly through the small shop, and Rafe felt his stomach tighten.
“Oh my Gooooooooddddd-”
The people in line ahead of him turned around at the sound, their eyes narrowing as they glanced in the direction Y/n was. Rafe clenched his jaw, his grip on the products in his arms tightening as he fought to keep his composure. Another loud groan broke through the silence, and Rafe’s patience snapped. He shot a look at the guy in front of him who seemed somewhat disturbed by the sound, his teeth gritting as he tried to stay calm but his irritation bubbled over, and he shot at him quickly, his voice sharp.
“She’s pregnant, okay?”
He snapped, his gaze hardening. The man blinked, taken aback by the harshness in Rafe’s voice. The rest of the people in line seemed to take a step back, all of them suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation. Rafe was breathing heavily now, his mind racing as the seconds dragged on, but he couldn’t look away from Y/n. She was still by the fridge, still gripped by the pain of the contractions, but somehow, there was a calmness in her, even in the middle of everything, and she was now once again rocking softly back and forth. He exhaled, trying to push down the anger and frustration bubbling up inside.
The man in front of Rafe raised his hands in surrender, his face showing quick understanding. Without another word, he grabbed his items from the counter and muttered a hurried, “Sorry,” as he quickly walked past Rafe, giving him space. Rafe, barely noticing the man’s retreat, threw the items he was holding down onto the counter with a frustrated sigh. His eyes immediately darted back to Y/n, his head swiveling as he tried to spot her over the shelves. The moment he looked away from the counter, though, a voice interrupted his frantic search.
“Rafe?”
Rafe froze. He knew that voice. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was, but of course, he did anyway. There, standing a few feet away, was John B. He groaned inwardly. How much worse could this get? He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Pogue.” The name slipped from his lips, a reflexive reaction to the guy who always seemed to be around just when Rafe didn’t need him. John B gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly trying to keep the peace, but Rafe could see the faint annoyance in his eyes.
“You need a bag?”
John B asked, trying to be helpful, but Rafe wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
“Uh, yeah,”
Rafe replied absently, barely glancing at John B as he spoke. His focus was entirely on trying to spot Y/n. His hands clenched the card in his hand as he tried to spot her around the shelves, his eyes scanning every inch of the small store. He didn’t even wait for John B to reply as his feet moved instinctively, carrying him away from the counter. He walked quickly down the aisles, his breath shallow as he called out her name, his voice strained with the urgency and stress building inside him.
“Y/n?”
His eyes darted from side to side, but there was no sign of her. He rounded the corner to another aisle, his heart starting to race as panic set in. He called out again, his voice louder this time.
“Y/n?!”
But there was still no response. Rafe felt the irritation crawling up his spine, seriously? Not again.
“Are you kidding me?” he muttered, his words laced with frustration as he threw a glance back at the counter. He felt like the whole world was working against him right now. Rafe’s eyes flicked back to John B, ready to ask if he’d seen Y/n, but then something caught his attention. The door near the counter, with a small blue sign W/C, was just slightly cracked open- it was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. He shot a quick glance at John B, his jaw tightening.
“Put my stuff to the side,”
Rafe said, his tone clipped, he once again didn’t wait for an answer, already moving toward the bathroom door. The women’s, men’s, and disabled toilets were all closed, but Rafe stepped closer to the disabled bathroom, he placed his ear against the door, trying to hear anything over the noise in the gas station.
It was then he heard it- a soft groan, followed by heavy breathing.
A slight whine escaped the other side of the door, and his pulse raced. Without thinking, he knocked gently against it, his voice low but full of urgency.
“Baby?”
A faint voice from within answered, weak but clear.
“Yeah?”
Rafe let out a relieved breath, his forehead resting briefly against the door, relief slowly hitting him. For a moment, he just stood there, collecting himself before he pulled back, his hand still gripping the handle of the door but it didn’t move. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, but he needed to stay calm- for her- well maybe for himself too.
“Are you okay?”
He asked, his voice soft but still edged with concern.There was a pause before her voice came through, strained but almost casual.
“Um…yeah?”
“What do you mean, um?”
Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed at her response. Another groan came from the other side of the door, followed by a sigh.
“Well, I… uh, I thought I needed to use the toilet, but now that I’m in here… I think I need to push.”
“NO!”
Rafe’s eyes widened, and before he could even think, he blurted out the word. His hands raked over his hair, the panic setting in as his mind raced.
“Baby, no- no, don’t push, okay? Please. I need you to open the door.”
He could hear her groaning again, and the sound made his chest tighten, “Y/n, I need you to open the door, okay? So we can go to the hospital. Are you listening to me, baby?”
His voice cracked with desperation as he waited for her response. Rafe took a step back from the door, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to steady his racing thoughts. His mind was spinning in panic, but he was doing his best to keep it together. Another groan came from the other side of the door, louder this time, and Rafe’s chest tightened.
“Rafe, I can’t… I can’t open the door,” her voice cracked, strained. “I need to push.”
His breath hitched, and he placed a hand against the door, his grip tightening. “Okay, okay. It’s okay.” His voice was soft but desperate.
“I’m gonna come in, yeah?”
There was a brief silence before her voice came through again, strained but barely audible.
“Yeah.”
The word was cut off by another loud groan, and the sound sent a jolt of panic through Rafe’s veins. Rafe’s patience snapped. Without a second thought, he barreled back to the counter, his voice urgent as he slammed his palm onto the surface.
“I need the key to the toilets Y/n is stuck in the disabled one.”
His words came out in a rush, and John B didn’t hesitate. His brows furrowed in concern, and he quickly reached under the counter, pulling out multiple sets of keys before he found the right one.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it.”
He gripped them in his hand as he looked at Rafe, he’s never seen the brunette so worried. “Sorry,” John B muttered to the guy on the other side of the counter as he quickly stood up, walking around the register. Rafe was ready to go straight back to Y/n when suddenly, John B called out.
“JJ!”
Rafe froze for a split second. Not him too. He shook his head in disbelief. What had he done to deserve this? He knew he had been a dick to so many people, for so many years, but was this really the punishment he deserved. JJ, the last person Rafe wanted to deal with, sauntered up to the counter with his signature blonde hair and cocky grin, with a zoot tucked behind his ear.
“Sup?” he asked, sounding entirely too carefree for the situation.
“Need you to take over the counter for a bit,”
John B said, his voice tight with urgency. JJ nodded lazily, unconcerned, “Mkay, my man,” he said, easily slipping into the role. John B turned back to Rafe, and the Cameron boy grabbed his arm.
“Let’s go.”
They both moved toward the corridor with all the bathrooms, John B crouched in front of the disabled toilet door, the key in his hand as he started to unlock it. Rafe stood by him, his muscles tense, feeling like he could finally somewhat breathe again now that they were this close. They were about to get Y/n out, and finally going to leave this godforsaken place.
“Don’t worry, man,” John B said, trying to reassure him as he worked the key into the lock. “We’re gonna get her out of there.”
But then, there was a loud snapping sound. Both of them froze.
Rafe’s stomach dropped.
“What? What is it?”
His voice was sharp, fear creeping in. John B hesitated, his face a mixture of guilt and disbelief. “Well… um… the key broke.”
Rafe blinked in stunned silence. “What? Speak up!”
John B looked back at him, the words tumbling out quickly. “The key broke.”
Rafe’s frustration hit a boiling point, his voice cracking with anger as he slammed his hand against the wall angrily.
“What the fuck do you mean, you broke the key?!”
“I’m sorry! It was an accident, alright?” John B’s hands shot up in defense.
Rafe’s eyes went wide. “How the hell do you fuck up opening a door? Are you fucking serious right now!?”
Before John B could answer, they both heard a loud voice from the other side of the room. “Heyyy, what’s going on here? What’s all the yelling for?” Rafe’s head snapped toward the voice. He could feel his blood boil. Of course. It was JJ. Of course it was. John B rolled his eyes.
“Y/n’s stuck in the toilet, and I broke the key-”
Then, a loud, strained groan from the other side of the door cut him off. Y/n’s voice echoed out, desperate and pained.
“Fuuuucckkkk,”
Rafe slammed his hand against the door, his voice softer but filled with worry. “Baby, you okay?” There was a brief pause before she answered.
“Yeah, just… fuuuuuuck…”
“Jesus,” Rafe muttered, running his hands through his hair, trying to keep it together. John B glanced at him.
“What was that?”
Rafe’s breath quickened, his anxiety rising again as he looked down to the door handle of the door, the snapped metal now lodging into the keyhole.
“She’s in labor.”
JJ blinked, processing that. “What the fuck?”
“And now she’s fucking stuck in there… because of you!” Rafe growled, his eyes narrowing in fury. “I swear to god-”
But before Rafe could say anything more, JJ was already moving. He pushed past both of them, walking straight up to the door. Rafe stared at him, scoffing in disbelief. JJ turned to face the door, knuckles knocking against the wood in a rhythmic pattern. He called out, looking toward the door,
“Hey sunshine,”
“JJ?”
“Yeah, yeah,” JJ answered as he pulled his cap off and readjusted his hair, putting it back on backwards. “I need you to take a step away from the door.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
Rafe’s confusion was evident, his brow furrowed. JJ didn’t respond. He kicked the door hard, and the force of it echoed in the space, making Rafe’s heart skip a beat as he realised what the boy was trying to do.
“Wait!”
He called out as he rushed forward, his voice frantic as he called out to Y/n.
“Y/n, I need you to step back from the door, yeah?”
“I just told her that.”
JJ spoke back to the boy, hands out in the air in confusion at his actions. Rafe rolled his eye’s as he spoke back so Y/n couldn’t hear,
“She’s a stubborn pregnant woman, obviously she’s not going to listen to you.”
JJ gave him a look before shrugging his shoulders, “touché.” From the other side, her breath was labored, each inhale shaky. “Ughh… okay,” she responded weakly, and there was a faint sound of movement behind the door.
“Have you done that for me, Y/n?”
Rafe’s voice was strained, as if he was holding onto his patience by a thread. Another soft “yeah” came from her, and he stepped back, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Without saying another word, Rafe squared his shoulders. The frustration of the past few minutes boiled over. He looked at the door one last time and, without hesitation, launched his foot into it with everything he had. The sound of his kick reverberated through the small space, but the door didn’t budge. John B stepped forward, shaking his head in skepticism, but nevertheless he kicked the door next, his hit less forceful than Rafe’s but still forcefull.
Nothing.
JJ followed suit, throwing his foot at the door, his kick full of impatience.
Still nothing.
Rafe watched them, frustration building in his chest. “Get out of my way,” he muttered through gritted teeth. Without another word, he ripped his jacket off in a quick motion, tossing it aside as he stepped forward with sheer determination. This time, he didn’t just kick. He slammed his foot into the door again and again, each strike more powerful than the last, the force of his anger and desperation driving him. Finally, with one last powerful kick, the door swung open, the sound echoing loudly in the small hallways to the toilets.
Rafe rushed in, his breath still heavy from the effort of kicking the door in. His eyes darted across the cramped space until he found Y/n. She was sitting there, slumped against the toilet, arm supporting herself on the sink next to her as she sat leant over, her face flushed with sweat, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
“Sweet girl,” Rafe murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, his fingers trembling slightly.
“Are you okay? C’mon, let’s get you to the hospital, yeah?”
Y/n’s eyes were wide, and her grip tightened around his wrist. “I can’t… I can’t, Rafe,” she gasped, her voice a strained, breathless whimper.
“I need to push, Rafe… I can’t—”
The words trailed off as another wave of contraction hit her, causing her body to tense up. Rafe’s heart dropped in his chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He’d promised her he’d make sure everything was smooth, that she’d be in a safe, controlled place when the baby came. This definitely wasn’t how he’d envisioned the birth of his first child to happen.
“Okay, it’s okay-”
He whispered, his hand brushing the small strands of damp hair away from her flushed, sweaty face. He gave her a soft, reassuring smile, even though inside, panic clawed at him.
“-I’m here now, yeah? C’mon, let’s get you comfortable.”
And as he gently helped her try to shift, he held her gaze, his own filled with worry and tenderness. He wasn’t sure how things would play out from here, but he knew one thing- he was going to make it work.
The moment John B and JJ stepped through the door coming back from locking up the door of the small gas station shop, they froze. Their eyes locked on Y/n, who was still leaning against the sink, her breathing ragged and uneven, sweat dripping down her face. JJ’s eyes widened in realization, his mouth falling open.
“Oh shit,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern.
“This is like for real- she’s in labor… like it’s legit-”
Rafe didn’t even look at them as he snapped into action, the blonde boys rambles falling on deaf ears. His focus was solely on Y/n, his voice low and strained.
“Go get some towels, some water- anything.”
They both stared at him motionless as they took in the scene of the Kook who’d tormented them for so many years, gently help the girl down to a sitting position on the floor.
“NOW!”
He barked out. John B and JJ scrambled out of the bathroom, their feet clattering as they bumped into each other in their rush to get the supplies. They didn’t say anything, just focused on finding whatever they could to help in their panic. Rafe turned back to Y/n, his face softening despite the storm of anxiety in his chest.
“C’mon, let me help you.”
He murmured, his hands gently gripping her arms as he helped her pull down her sweatpants, hands lovingly rubbing against her calves in an attempt to comfort her. Y/n hummed out slightly, her uneasiness palpable, but as another contraction hit, she winced, her face contorting in pain. Rafe’s brows furrowed with concern, his heart aching for her.
“I know, baby, I know. Just breathe. We’re gonna get through this, okay?”
And just as she nodded, another wave of pain hit, and Rafe exhaled in frustration, running a hand over his hair. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, barely able to contain the rush of panic rising inside him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The gas station bathroom looked nothing like it had before. Blankets and towels were scattered across the floor beneath Y/n, cushioning her knees as she rocked back and forth, panting through each wave of pain. Bottles of water and crumpled packaging littered the corners- whatever JJ and John B had managed to grab in their scramble. Y/n’s skin glistened with sweat, strands of hair clinging to her flushed face. She reached up with trembling hands, tugging at her top, desperate to get it off. The sticky fabric clung to her skin, and she let out a frustrated groan.
"Here, baby, let me—" Rafe’s voice cut off as his phone buzzed against his ear, someone's voice being heard from the other side. He was crouched down, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Yeah, okay, yeah—she's on the floor, towels everywhere. No, the hospital’s blocked off! We're stuck. I've just told you this, are you even listening to me!"
His voice cracked, running high with panic. John B sat awkwardly near Y/n’s head, trying to offer some sort of comfort. Her hand suddenly shot out, fingers digging painfully into his arm. His breath hitched, tears stinging his eyes. He muttered, voice shaky,
"Shit- okay, okay, you're okay,"
Y/n barely managed to choke out, "Sorry," between laboured breaths as her nails digged into his skin. John B’s voice squeaked,
"It's fine! Totally fine!"
His face twisted in pain, but he didn’t dare pull away. JJ hovered uselessly in the doorway, wide-eyed and wringing his hands feeling a little awkward with the situation at hand.
“Uh… y’all need anything else? Snacks? Beer? No—okay, cool.”
Rafe paced in a tight circle before crouching behind Y/n again, gripping the phone. The nurse’s voice was brisk but calm as she spoke into his ear,“Can you see the baby’s head, sir?”
Rafe swallowed hard, leaning over for a quick glance. His face was drained of all colour.
“Uh… yeah I can see the head.”
Y/n’s head snapped up. "What?! What do you mean you can see it?!"
Rafe’s eyes were wide, panic rising in his throat as the nurse’s voice cut through the phone, steady and firm. “Listen to me carefully. That means she’s ready to push. You need to place your hand firmly against the baby’s head to guide it out slowly. If it comes too fast, there’s a risk of decapitation.”
Rafe froze. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stared at Y/n, blinking rapidly, his mind spiralling. His brain was screaming at him to move, to do something, but fear was holding him in place, like a heavy weight on his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this. He had no idea what to do, only that he couldn’t screw this up.
“Hello? Sir? Are you still there? Is everything okay?”
He cleared his throat, forcing the words out.
"Yeah—yeah, I’m here."
Rafe squeezed his eyes shut, dragging a shaky hand down his face, his fingers briefly pressing into his eye’s. He needed to keep it together, but every second felt heavier than the last. He sucked in a breath, grounding himself before snapping his head up.
“JJ! Get over here and hold this fucking phone!”
JJ shuffled forward, noticeably hesitant, eyes fixed awkwardly on the wall as he stood beside Rafe, who held the phone out for the boy slightly. However, as the blond boy refused to look down Rafe remained with his hand held out, causing him to look away from Y/n and see the boy still staring straight ahead at the wall. Rafe stared at him, disbelief simmering under his skin.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Bro?”
John B glanced over from where he was crouched by Y/n’s head, frowning. JJ muttered under his breath, barely audible. Rafe’s patience snapped.
“What!?”
“Listen, your girl is literally naked right there, man! I don’t wanna look- it’s disrespectful!”
JJ winced, shoulders tensing. Rafe’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. His fists balled at his sides, knuckles white. Every muscle in his body screamed to just hit him, to shake the stupidity right out of him. He could see himself doing it- just one solid punch. But instead, Rafe forced himself to take a breath, exhaling hard through his nose. He dragged a hand roughly over his face once again, muttering, “Jesus Christ-”
Y/n let out a sharp, pained groan, her voice cracking.
“JJ, I don’t care! Just help him- oh SHIIIIIIT!”
Her scream cut through the room like a knife, yanking everyone’s attention back to reality. JJ’s eyes shot wide.
“Okay! Okay! If you insist-”
He didn’t even get the words out before Rafe shoved the phone- now on speaker- hard into his chest. JJ scrambled to steady it, and as his eyes flicked down, his face drained of colour as he looked at Y/n. The very top of the baby’s head was there.
“Holy shit, Y/n there’s like a fucking baby in your pussy-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, JJ!”
Y/n’s scream was sharp and furious, echoing in the cramped space. JJ jumped, gripping the phone like it might explode.
“Okay! Sorry! Jesus!”
His voice cracked as he lifted the phone so they could hear it if the nurse spoke out. Rafe knelt back down behind Y/n, and he swallowed hard, as he felt the slick warmth of Y/n's skin under his palm, pressing his hand gently but firmly against the top of the baby’s head, just like the nurse had told him. His other hand rubbed slow, steady circles along the curve of her trembling back, grounding her as best he could. His heart was thundering in his chest, but he forced his voice to stay calm, soft- for her.
“Okay, sweet girl,” he murmured, “I need you to listen to me, yeah?”
Y/n’s head lolled against her arm, sweat-damp hair clinging to her flushed face as she let out a shaky breath. His voice firmed, but it was still gentle, coaxing. His hand didn’t stop moving on her back.
“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking good. But I really, really need you to push on the next contraction, alright?”
Her glassy eyes flickered to his, searching, scared. He gave her the smallest, crooked smile despite the panic clawing at him.
“We’re so close, yeah? You’re so strong. Just one big push for me, okay?”
Y/n’s fingers dug into the blankets beneath her, knuckles white. She gave a slight, barely-there nod.
“That’s my girl,” his hand pressed steady against the baby’s head, the other still rubbing soothingly along her back, “Next one, baby. We’re gonna meet our little Cameron. You’ve got this.”
Y/n clenched her jaw, groaning through another push, but Rafe could feel it- nothing was changing. He leaned back slightly, panic creeping into his features, and turned towards the phone in JJ’s grip.
“I—nothing’s happening,” he said quickly, his voice strained, eyes darting from the phone to Y/n’s hunched figure. “What’s going on? Why isn’t the baby moving?”
The nurse’s voice came through, calm but firm. “She’s not pushing hard enough. You need to get the baby out soon, Mr Cameron. The longer the baby stays in the birth canal, the more risk there is of oxygen deprivation.”
Fuck. Rafe’s heart plummeted at the words, and he felt his hand slip slightly against Y/n’s damp skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, his lips parting to respond, but before he could, a faint sound drew his attention.
“Rafe…”
It was John B, his voice hesitant, almost soft. He was kneeling at Y/n’s side, her trembling fingers curled weakly around his forearm.
“Rafe, man… I think you need to talk to her…”
He said quietly, glancing down at the way Y/n’s grip seemed to falter, her breaths shallow and uneven. Rafe swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the sight of her pain and exhaustion. God, she wasn’t even on any painkillers, he didn’t want to imagine how she felt right now. His eyes darted between Y/n and the phone before he scrubbed a hand over his buzzed hair, frustration and fear mixing in his expression. John B slowly rose to his feet, giving Y/n’s hand a small squeeze before letting go. He turned to Rafe who had also risen, his face softer than it usually was when the two of them interacted.
“You heard what she said,” Rafe said slowly, voice tight.
John B met his eyes and gave a small, steady nod. “Yeah. I heard.”
Without warning, Rafe’s hand shot out and fisted the front of John B’s shirt, yanking him in close, nose to nose. His grip was iron, knuckles white.
“You hurt my child…” Rafe’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his blue eyes blazing, “…I’ll kill you. Is that clear, John B?”
John B didn’t flinch, didn’t fight back. He just stared at Rafe, steady and calm. Because for the first time, he wasn’t seeing Rafe Cameron the hotheaded psycho- he was seeing a terrified father on the edge.
“Yeah,” John B said quietly, voice even. “Crystal.”
Rafe’s eyes flicked over his face, searching for any sign of weakness, but all he saw was understanding. He slowly uncurled his fingers, shoving John B back slightly. Without another word, they switched places. John B moved towards the phone, kneeling behind Y/n and Rafe dropped to his knees beside her, his hands instantly reaching for hers. One hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her own holding her hand, while the other gently rubbed along her back in slow, grounding circles.
“Hey, hey, baby, look at me,”
He murmured, his voice softer now, but the cracks of fear still clung to the edges. Y/n barely lifted her head, her body trembling.
“Rafe… I can’t,” she whispered, her voice thin and shaky, “I’m so tired-”
Rafe’s chest tightened, his throat burning. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not like this. Not here in this crappy gas station bathroom.
“I know, sweet girl… I know,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers for a moment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want this for you.”
Y/n shook her head faintly, her grip on his wrist weakening.
“No, baby, listen to me.”
Rafe cupped her face, his thumbs brushing the sweat from her cheeks. His own eyes were glassy now, but his voice steadied. “I need you to be strong for me now, yeah? Just a little longer. You can do this. You’re so close.”
She blinked at him, breath shaky, and he leaned in closer, his nose brushing against hers.
“Please, baby. For me. For our baby.”
Y/n swallowed hard, a tear slipping down her cheek, but she gave him the faintest nod.
“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing her forehead as his thumb came out to wipe her cheek free of the salty water..
“That’s my girl.”
Y/n let out a guttural groan as she pushed with everything she had on her next contraction, her entire body trembling under the effort. Rafe was right beside her, one hand braced on her back, the other still gently cupping her hand, which she gripped ferociously.
“Oh my God- the head’s out!”
John B shouted, voice laced with disbelief and panic. He was kneeld awkwardly, eyes wide as he stared down. JJ was next to him, his knees slipping slightly on the layered towels.
“Holy shit, man, I see it! Okay, okay, you’re so close, Y/n!” His voice was high with adrenaline, but there was something soft in it, too. “Come on, mama, just a little more, you’re about to meet your baby!”
Rafe tightened his grip on Y/n’s shoulder, leaning in close, his breath shaky. “Sweet girl, we’re right there, yeah? One more push. You’ve got this.”
The nurse crackled through the phone still in JJ’s shaky grip, “Support the baby’s head! Careful, slow—don’t let it drop!” JJ scrambled, hands trembling as he carefully cupped the tiny, slick head, his face frozen in panic. “Okay, okay, I got it—I got it! Oh my God, John B, help me!” John B, swallowing his own panic, steadied JJ’s hands, both of them crouched and bracing themselves.
“Y/n, baby, one more. Just one more push,”
Rafe whispered, voice breaking but full of determination. Y/n let out a ragged sob, gripping Rafe’s arm like a lifeline, her face buried into his neck. She drew in a shaking breath and bore down, crying out as her body strained.
“There we go!” John B’s voice cracked with disbelief. “The shoulders are coming!” JJ’s eyes were wide, hands gently guiding the tiny body. Rafe’s hand slid to her damp cheek, brushing her hair back.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
And in the next moment, the baby slipped free into JJ and John B’s waiting hands, their eyes wide with shock and awe. For a moment, the entire room was still. Breathless. Then, the silence shattered. A sharp, piercing wail filled the air—raw, loud, and alive.
The baby was crying.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” the nurse’s voice crackled through the phone, filled with warmth. “That’s exactly what we want to hear, means their airways are clear- congratulations!” the nurse’s voice came through, vibrating with relief.
Y/n’s body sagged with relief, sobs breaking free as she wept, trembling from exhaustion and overwhelming joy. Rafe let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding. His chest tightened, and his eyes, glossed over, locked on Y/n, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Oh, sweet girl…” His voice was raw as he leaned in, cupping her tear-streaked face.
“I’m so proud of you. You hear that?”
He whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, voice breaking. “That’s our baby Y/n, you did that.” He pressed soft, lingering kisses to her forehead, his arms holding her close. Y/n’s breath hitched, tears slipping freely. Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Is it… is it a boy or a girl?”
John B, though still emotional, took the lead as he carefully placed his hands on the baby’s tiny chest, rubbing gently as the nurse instructed to ensure air was circulating properly. His movements instinctual despite the fear and emotions tangled in his chest.
“It’s a girl.”
A fragile, joyful sob escaped Y/n’s lips, her hand flying to her mouth. The nurse’s voice crackled through the phone, her tone calm and clear. “Alright, now I need you to swaddle the baby tightly, make sure she doesn’t get cold.”
JJ moved quickly, wrapping the baby snugly in the towel, his hands surprisingly gentle despite the chaos unfolding around them. The nurse continued as they worked on the little being amongst the towels. “And how’s mom? Make sure she’s covered up too, don’t want her getting cold either.”
John B, standing up from his kneeling position, grabbed a second blanket and draped it over Y/n, making sure it covered her body as he gently rubbed her back. “Good job, Y/n. You’re amazing.” Never in a million years did he think when he got a job at the gas station he would be helping to deliver his brother in law’s baby. Y/n, leaning heavily against Rafe, gave him a small, exhausted smile.
The nurse’s voice came through again, more reassuring this time. “Now, I need you to pass the baby to mum. Be gentle, don’t pull on the umbilical cord. The ambulance is just two minutes away.”
Rafe, still crouched behind Y/n, gently helped her lean back against his chest . His arms were wrapped securely around her, as he supported her with a steady, comforting presence. He gently adjusted her position, making sure her back was firmly against his chest, and spoke softly, his voice laced with concern,
“You okay, baby?”
Y/n hummed softly, her breath shallow as she nodded faintly, exhaustion clouding her features. She leaned back further into him, her body still trembling, but her grip on her blanket was firm. Rafe gave her a soft kiss on the side of her head, his hands gently rubbing her arm in soothing circles. JJ gently cradled the newborn, his hands trembling slightly from the weight of the moment.
“Well done sunshine.”
He said softly, his voice full of emotion as he carefully passed the baby to Y/n. With shaky hands, Y/n cradled the baby to her chest, her breath catching in her throat as she looked down at the sweet, tiny face. Tears welled up in her eyes, the overwhelming joy of finally holding her daughter too much to contain. She let out a shaky sob, her heart swelling with emotion. Rafe leaned in close, his voice soft as he spoke,
“It’s okay, we’ve got her now, yeah?”
He wrapped his arms around Y/n from behind, his chin resting gently on her shoulder, offering her all the reassurance she needed. Y/n barely heard him though, her attention entirely on the little life in her arms. She watched as he ran a trembling finger over the baby’s cheek, the softness of his daughter's skin pulling at his heartstrings.
“She looks just like you, Rafey”
Y/n murmured, her voice full of awe. Rafe let out an emotional laugh, a tear slipping from his eye as he leaned in to kiss Y/n’s forehead, feeling completely overwhelmed by the moment. Y/n turned her head to look at him, and he leaned forward slightly to press his forehead gently against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet, sacred moment. After a moment of silence, he kissed her softly, his lips lingering for just a second. With glossy eyes, he whispered,
“Thank you for giving us our sweet girl.”
Y/n smiled, her heart full as she leaned her head against his, both of them looking down at their peaceful, sleeping baby in her arms. Although baby Cameron was born in a gas station on the cut, in the hands of two Pogues who they didn't always get along with, and not in the prestigious private suite of the hospital they had planned to give birth in originally, they wouldn’t have had it any other way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
— a rafe cameron one shot (1 of 2) part one • part two
✰ rafe and barry were on their way back from handling business when they come across someone stuck on the side of the road — that someone being the richest kook in town’s daughter, y/n.
rating: sfw — cw: very suggestive/graphic language
“i don’t give a fuck what he said,” barry grumbled as he leaned back in his seat, “he’s payin’ by tonight or we’re bustin’ his fuckin’ head in, alright?” rafe nodded dismissively, unaffected by the graphic comment as his blue eyes were lazily focused on the road before them, a singular hand resting on the wheel as he steered the old truck. the following moments were silent, only filled with the soft hum of the engine and low buzz from the radio before something — or someone — caught rafe’s eye.
“oh, shit,” he whispered to himself, gradually lifting his foot from the gas as he peered out the dirty window. barry perked up at his utterance and followed his gaze, his eyes landing on a girl in the near distance sat perched on the curb, a hand in her hair as she held a phone to her ear. beside her was a pearly pink bronco, slightly tilted forward on it’s front, right side — flat tire.
“who the fuck is that? you know ‘er?” barry wondered aloud, his dark eyes flickering between rafe and the girl outside. “nah… i mean, yeah, kinda… that’s—uh, she’s grant mason’s daughter,” rafe mumbled, feeling sudden waves of internal conflict wash over him.
he’d seen her insanely expensive car before, perched in the long winding driveway of the mason’s mansion whenever he’d drive past — it was unmistakably of mason property. he’d also seen her face before on a company advert pamphlet in his fathers office: her mother, father, sister, dog and her — a perfect family.
“mason?” barry began with rafe quickly answering his unspoken question, “yeah, mason manufacturing.” barry laughed, a small smile pulling at his lips leaving his his shiny silver tooth on full display, “aw shit, lil’ kook princess done fucked up her ride.”
rafe bit the inside of his lip in a moment of contemplation, unsure of whether he should slam on the gas or the break. a beat passed as the cogs in his brain began to turn before he let out a defeated sigh, abruptly twisting the wheel and averting the truck onto the opposite side of the road.
“aye, fuck're y'doin’? you’re not about to go play bob the fuckin’ builder, are you?” barry gripped, sitting up in his seat with thick, furrowed brows. “relax,” rafe reasoned in annoyance, “i know what i’m doin’.”
and that, he did — rafe wasn’t one to do favors for people, especially for someone he doesn’t know, but this time was different. he’s learned over time to always keep your friends close and your potential assets closer; the daughter of the grant mason was simply a door he needed opened to fully set foot inside — to give himself and his father an upper hand.
barry scoffed and leaned back in his seat once more, resting an elbow on the passenger door before resting his forehead in his hand. “right — know what y’doin’ like y’always do,” barry muttered dismissively, “jus’ make it quick.”
“could go faster if you helped, y’know,” rafe murmured sarcastically, causing barry to let out an even more sarcastic laugh, saying, “yeah, ain’t shit in that for me, country club — you got it.”
and with that, rafe begrudgingly exited the truck with a light slam of the door, preparing himself to feign the fakest, most well-rounded persona he possibly could in order to make, what would hopefully be, a lasting impression.
the girl on the curb’s head perked up at the sudden noise, her eyes slightly widening at the stranger rapidly approaching. rafe noticed, forcing a smile across his face before speaking. “hey! you alright?” he asked as ‘warmly’ as he could, jogging across the road before stopping a mere few feet away.
“uh, hi — yeah, i’m good, i just— i got a flat,” she explained bashfully with a smile, gesturing to the leaning bronco. it was immediately evident to him that photos simply didn’t do her justice, the sight of her alone unexpectedly making his stomach do a flip, taking him by surprise.
“ah, that sucks,” rafe forcefully sympathized, “y’got a spare, right? i could change it for you.” her face lit up at the proposition, and she quickly mutter a few words into the phone before hanging up and shoving it in her pocket, quickly standing and dusting off the back of her denim shorts.
“would you really?” she beamed, her hopeful eyes glistening as she gazed at him. rafe nodded, his blue ones scanning over her face as he felt a weird stitch of something in his chest. “yeah, it’s no problem — i’ve got some tools in my truck,” he assured, motioning behind him.
“thank you so much,” she breathed out in relief, abruptly holding out a small, manicured hand in his direction, “i’m y/n.” rafe was taken aback by the sudden gesture, reluctantly encasing her palm with his own — her’s was soft, undoubtably the softest he’s ever felt.
“rafe…” he reciprocated before remembering the entire purpose of this interaction, “cameron — rafe cameron.” her brows furrowed, the name tumbling through her mind before realizing it was rather familiar.
“like, cameron development?” she wondered aloud, her hand still absentmindedly resting in his, though rafe was all too aware of it. “uh—yeah, yeah, m’ward cameron’s son,” he muttered, feeling almost awkward at the prolonged contact.
“no way! i’m grant mason’s daughter — our dad’s are friends!” she gasped, and rafe almost scoffed bitterly at the loose, frankly false, title — friends? sure.
“really? small island,” rafe forcibly laughed, internally puking at the sound of his own voice and the cliches he was spewing, and y/n replied with a sweet, “yeah!”
“hey, so, i’mma go get some stuff from my truck so we can get you back on the road, yeah?” he offered, pulling his hand from hers and pointing a thumb behind him. “yeah, okay, thank you again,” she called out as he spun on his heels before briskly crossing the road.
“yo, you trynna hit that or what? what’s with all that chummy shit?” barry snickered as rafe approached the truck, having overheard the entire conversation. “shut up,” rafe groaned, completely unamused as he reached into the bed, fishing around before retrieving a rusty jack and lug wrench in either hand.
“can’t lie, she kinda fine,” barry projected, ensuring rafe could hear him from outside. “she can probably hear you,” the taller man muttered in annoyance. “shit, let her,” barry exclaimed carelessly, “if you don’t tap that, i will.”
“look, can you just—just chill out for like ten minutes? i’m changin’ her fuckin’ tire then we’re goin’, alright?” rafe snapped in agitation, now standing by the car door and of course, the other man only found it comical. “alright — whatever you say, babyboy,” barry mused, feigning surrender with a sly grin before rafe trudged his way back across the road.
“hi,” y/n grinned, her arms crossed lightly over her chest as she ceased absentmindedly twisting her shoe in the dirt. “hey,” rafe reciprocated, tossing the jack onto the concrete with a loud clank, “i’ll get the tire.” y/n nodded, watching as he took the wrench to the back of the car and began twisting at the lugnuts before casually joining him there.
“so, how long have you guys lived here?” she questioned sweetly as she leaned against the bumper, attempting to make conversation as if he wasn’t preoccupied. rafe peered down at her out the corner of his eye, a twinge of annoyance sparking in his chest that was somehow extinguished when he noticed the small smile on her lips as she gazed at him expectantly.
“uh, m’whole life,” he grunted as he twisted at a rather difficult fastener, “you? never seen you ’round before.”
“i’ve only been here a a couple months, actually — we move alot for dad’s work so we’re never really in once place for long,” she explained, distant sadness evident in her tone. “yeah? you likin’ it so far?” rafe asked as he pulled the tire down with ease, finding himself to actually be somewhat interested in the answer.
“uhm—yeah, yeah, it’s nice. i mean, m’always going back home to visit and haven’t been anywhere on the island besides the elementary school,” she explained. “s’that where you were headed?” rafe wondered as he rolled the heavy wheel towards the front of the car, y/n following close behind.
“yeah, i was going to get my sister before the tire busted — was calling the school to let them know i’d be, like, really late,” she sighed. “your dad couldn’t get her?” rafe questioned, admittedly asking a question that may have been a little intrusive. "i— uh, no,” she laughed awkwardly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear as he began to crank the jack, “he’s always so busy.”
“and your mom?” rafe breathed out as he stood to his feet, dusting his hands on his pants before wiping the sweat from his forehead. y/n couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle at his biceps as they flexed with each movement, her eyes flickering up and down the length of his tanned arms in awe.
“she’s— uh, she’s pretty busy, too,” y/n shrugged, her small smile faltering — this piqued rafe’s interest. “yeah? what does she do?” he asked casually, playing off his prying as casual conversation as he began to remove the damaged wheel from the car.
“she used to be an accountant,” y/n murmured, staring off into space down the road, watching as a car drove by. “used to?” rafe chimed in, rolling the busted tire into the grass before beginning to mount the new one.
“yeah, before my sister was born,” she affirmed.
“what’s she doin’ now?”
“she’s retired,” y/n muttered, causing rafe to furrow his brows to himself — retired mother who’s somehow too busy to pick her kid up from school?
“she-uh… she drinks sometimes,” y/n answered quickly, having noticed the expression on his face, “she’s usually too hungover in the mornings to drive… and afternoons.”
hardly a moment passed as rafe was processing her words while simultaneously fastening on lug-nuts before she spoke up again. “i— i’m sorry,” she laughed nervously, squeezing her eyes shut as she mentally kicked herself, “i’m absolutely oversharing.”
“no,” rafe promised casually with a shrug, fastening the last bolt in it’s place, “i asked.” it was a simple statement, though it sent a wave of warmth throughout her chest, the simplicity of reassurance being comforting and seldom.
“what about you?” she asked as he began to lower the car back to the ground, the new tire now in place. “what about me?” rafe rebutted, standing to his feet once more with a huff, the beaming sun beginning to take a toll.
“i— i just mean… what’s your family like?”
“uhh, well, my dad runs a business, and-uh, got a step-mom ‘n two sisters,” rafe explained, though he was never fond of talking about himself or his family.
suddenly, a loud honk sounded out from across the street, causing them both to turn their heads towards the source. “aye, country club, let’s go!” barry called out, rafe’s good deed of the year being noticeably completed and his patience having worn thin.
“whose that?” y/n wondered, a small smile pulling at her lips when rafe sighed in annoyance and ran a hand down his face. “he’s my-uh… friend,” rafe answered, though truthfully, he’s wasn’t sure he’d call him that.
“i think your friend is ready to leave,” she laughed lightly, rafe nodding in agreement as his eyes then found their way to hers, suddenly finding themselves stuck there. she didn’t notice until then just how blue his eyes were, nor did he notice how big and doe-like her’s were. seconds passed that felt like minutes, neither of them in any position to break the eye contact for a reason they couldn’t explain.
inevitably, the horn was honked again and jolted them both from the stalemate, causing rafe to cough before scratching his neck. “uh, so, i’m gonna get going,” he announced, grabbing his tools from their places on the curb, “tire’s all good ‘n i can get rid of the old one if y’want.”
“thank you, rafe — seriously, it means so much,” y/n sighed out, eyes glistening with gratitude and rafe’s stomach did that same, stupid little flip as before when she said his name and he wanted it to fucking stop.
“yeah, no worries,” rafe grinned, though he tried to hide it, actually feeling somewhat good about himself, “you should-uh… probably head out, too, yeah?”
“shit, yeah,” y/n swore, quickly pulling her phone from her pocket and checking the time, “hey, so-uh, my dad’s having a little business dinner type-thing next weekend — food ‘n music and all that if you, maybe, wanted to come?”
rafe froze at the mention as he recalled a conversation with his father from not too long ago. they had spoke about that very event, rafe wanting to accompany his father in order to learn more about the mason’s business, though his wish was denied due to ward only being allowed to bring one guest — his choice being his wife, rose.
“i’m— i’m sorry, you don’t have to, i just figured as like a ‘thank you’ i’d—,” y/n rambled, feeling as though rafe’s lack of response and blank stare was an answer within itself, but he quickly interrupted.
“nah, nah, i’ll—,” he paused, blue eyes flickering across her now hopeful face, his heart doing a little skip at the sight, “yeah, i’ll be there.”
“awesome, yeah, here — put your number in, i’ll text you the details,” she smiled, handing her phone over to who rafe dropped his tools to the ground before accepting it. their hands grazed one another for a moment, somehow feeling different from the first time they touched.
he obliged, quickly typing in the digits and saving the contact before handing it back. “cool, so, i’ll see you then?” she smiled, watching at rafe gathered the tools from the ground once more. “yeah,” rafe nodded, quickly swiping his tongue over his lips before a soft smirk overtook them, “unless i find you on the curb with another flat before then.”
“with my luck,” she laughed, and rafe couldn’t help but let out a soft, genuine, chuckle. “thank you again,” she continued, her tone sincere, and rafe could tell just how genuine it was, giving her a small nod in return, “i’ll see you.”
and with that, she climbed her way into the ridiculously large car, giving rafe one last glance with a smile before disappearing down the corner and around the bend. rafe finished loading everything back into the truck, including the flat wheel that he planned on abandoning in some unfortunate pogues yard, before rejoining barry inside.
“the fuck’re you so happy about?” barry mumbled, loathing the fact that after waiting in a hot truck for ages, rafe comes waltzing in with a grin.
“told’ya i know what i’m doin’.”
personapeters 2025 — all rights reserved • masterlist
Imagine sam, reader, and vinnie have a game night (monopoly) with just sam and reader actually playing while vinnie is just the banker, who gives the wrong amount of money everytime its needed (sam would probably make vinnie give him more money than reader so he can win lol 😭😭😭)
- 💀
PAIRING: teen dad!sam monroe x teen mom!reader
FLUFF ❦
You should’ve known this was a bad, bad idea. Game nights with SAM MONROE are never just game nights. They are true, bloody wars. So when Sam pulled out monopoly, which is already the worst game ever for keeping relationships intact, you should have predicted he'd turn into a dirty cheater
The only saving grace of this situation? Vinnie, your little banker, sat between your and Sam's side, clutching handfuls of Monopoly money in tiny fingers like it were his last life savings (as if he got ever any). But in all of that, he got zero clue what was happening, yet he was still clearly having the time of his life by your and Sam's side.
You gazed blankly into your cards, questioning your next life choices while Sam, kept suspiciously saving tons of money. After Vinnie, with the sweetest, most innocent grin ever, gave sam another monopoly dollar, you narrowed your eyes, finally deciding it was time to speak up for poorer people.. “Why is Vinnie giving you more money than me?”
Sam, not even looking up, shrugged lazily. “Dunno. Maybe he just likes me better.”
You gasped, cards falling on the table. “You are bribing him, aren’t you?”
Sam smirked. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵-𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬. “I would never.” Meanwhile, Vinnie—completely unaware of what was happening around him—just giggled, waving a $500 bill in the air like it was a toy. A very valuable toy to you.
You glanced up from your properties. “Okay, Vinnie" you let out a sigh "I need $200. Can you hand it to me, baby?”
Vinnie’s face scrunched up in thought. Those little brows furrowing, pinky lips twisting to a thoughtful grimace. He stared at the colorful bills in front of him, the baby brain working hard and slow to decide which one he should take. Then, after some time, he grabbed a single $10 bill and slapped it on the board with a proud little squeal.
“Baby, no—this is ten.” You laughed softly, trying to give it back. “I need two hundred.”
Sam, across seated from you, was actually (but not surprisingly) grinning like the absolute asshole that he is. He leaned in, tickling Vinnie's chubby cheek so that the toddler would erupt with giggles “Good job, little man. You’re a natural at banking.”
“He just scammed me.”
Sam shrugged, completely unfazed. “Not his fault you’re bad at capitalism.”
You shot him a glare before turning back to Vinnie. “Okay, sweetheart, can you try again? Two hundred dollars, okay?” you showed him two fingers in hope for some mimic-language understanding
Vinnie, looking absolutely thrilled with his responsibility, clapped his hands and… handed you a pinky fifty-dollar bill and a green one-dollar bill.
Sam burst out laughing. “Holy shit, he’s robbing you blind.”
You sighed, dropping your head onto the table in pathetic defeat. “Vinnie, baby, please.”
Vinnie just babbled, extending his tiny arms up to you with the biggest toothy smile of a proud boy. But then Sam had to destroy the moment and lean over, tapping the table with a smug smirk. “Alright, buddy. Sammy needs $500 for passing Go.” Vinnie nodded very seriously, reaching for the money pile.
And handed Sam a full stack of cash.
Your mouth dropped open. “WHAT THE HELL.”
Sam took it eagerly, throwing some ‹thanks, man› with ruffling Vinnie's curls. With a mischievous smirk, he leaned back with his huge stack of cash, waving them just to tease you. “Damn, I should start bringing Vinnie to Vegas.”
You glared at him. “You told him to do that, didn’t you?”
“I would never corrupt our sweet child like that.”
Vinnie giggled again, completely unaware of the absolute fraud he just committed, at the gaslighting Sam created. You pointed at the baby. “He’s literally helping you commit Monopoly crimes.”
“Sounds like a skill issue on your end.”
You couldn't help yourself anymore, and with a grunt, you grabbed a pillow from the couch and chucked it at him. While Vinnie just clapped his chubby hands, being awfully happy about your batter with Sam.
You deadpanned. “I hope you step on a Lego.”
-
berlinishere liked this · 3 weeks ago -
daithideolishmer18 liked this · 4 weeks ago -
ms-in-somnia liked this · 4 weeks ago -
5sos300865 liked this · 1 month ago -
fmm27 liked this · 1 month ago -
bambi3yes liked this · 1 month ago -
miserysthings liked this · 1 month ago -
bitchykittenconnoisseur liked this · 1 month ago -
ladysparkles78 liked this · 1 month ago -
selencgraphy liked this · 1 month ago -
fangirl-for-too-many-fandoms liked this · 1 month ago -
lunarwingsnerdy liked this · 1 month ago -
owobungacowa liked this · 1 month ago -
toastyghasty liked this · 1 month ago -
l00ny-xoxo liked this · 2 months ago -
x-emxly-x118 liked this · 2 months ago -
sploosh805 liked this · 2 months ago -
readingnerd9999 liked this · 2 months ago -
sillysimpsworld liked this · 2 months ago -
evelcoconut liked this · 2 months ago -
whoreultra liked this · 2 months ago -
formulafun liked this · 2 months ago -
daisydood liked this · 2 months ago -
amonochromefilm liked this · 2 months ago -
writtenbyhollywood reblogged this · 2 months ago -
writtenbyhollywood liked this · 2 months ago
-
cchibi-girl liked this · 2 months ago -
moviequeen0 liked this · 3 months ago -
donniesbabygirl28 liked this · 3 months ago -
justicexjustice liked this · 3 months ago -
chronicalsofamutant liked this · 3 months ago -
obitouchihabackshots liked this · 3 months ago -
marinajeffrey-2005 liked this · 3 months ago -
ralilda liked this · 3 months ago -
fmlariel liked this · 3 months ago -
xmiaacxio liked this · 3 months ago -
sacrosankta liked this · 3 months ago -
naylanae-0308 liked this · 3 months ago
-
noxentra liked this · 3 months ago -
clearthingwerewolf liked this · 3 months ago -
azzy-lia liked this · 3 months ago -
boopsie666 liked this · 3 months ago -
miaa1001 liked this · 3 months ago
-
alexmichan-blog liked this · 3 months ago -
itserickalove liked this · 3 months ago -
easygoing8888 liked this · 3 months ago -
lvmxla liked this · 3 months ago -
gurneetsadhra23 liked this · 3 months ago -
crazedteenwolfgirl liked this · 3 months ago
