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queen-of-deans-booty · 2 months

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Don't Fight It

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: angst, gun violence, murder, fluff

Request by @jessicalynnann: Dean standing by a window and he is a multi millionaire mob boss… any ways. Standing by the window with a glass of whiskey waiting for the reader who he keeps denying his feelings for…. Any ways her best friend calls says that someone is bothering the reader and won’t leave them alone. Well he rushes down and saves the reader after he finds her in the alley almost being attacked and then he confesses everything 😂☺️

Summary: You work for not only a successful businessman but also a man who does less than legal things in his spare time. He hopes to never have to bring you into that side of his life but when your ex makes an appearance, he has no choice but to use his deadly skills to get you out of trouble alive.

Square Filled: “it’s not an addiction. it’s a coping mechanism.” (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Never in your professional career have you ever been late except for today. Your car didn’t want to start this morning so you had to jumpstart it using a portable charger you had lying around from the last time your brother was staying with you. He claims he forgot it but you know he left it there intentionally. He’s always looking out for you whether you want him to or not.

You walk into work clutching your purse and water cup to your chest as you make your way to your desk. Due to the darkness coming from underneath your boss’ door, you assume he’s not in right now. Thank God. You don’t have to confront him after being late. You quickly get settled in and immediately pull up your emails to see what kind of day you’re going to have today.

As the personal assistant to the CEO of Winchester Industries, you always have a lot on your plate. There is seldom any time for yourself at work which is a good thing because that means the day goes by faster. You admire Dean for what he does and the impact he has made not only on the town you live in but in towns across America. He is involved with environmental technologies, medical devices, and the telecommunications sector. He cares so much about the environment that he develops equipment that helps farmers, medical devices mostly for animals, and strengthens the telecommunication sector across America.

He had an idea one day and decided to do something about it instead of waiting for someone else to do it. Now, he’s one of the richest men in the country because of it.

Speaking of the devil, when Dean walks out of the elevator, you’re already halfway through your emails.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he drawls.

“Good morning, Dean.”

“Hey, did you happen to get the contracts for--”

“Already on your desk.”

“What about the proposal for--”

“Already done, waiting for your seal of approval. I also have reached out to Phoenix Zoo and set up a Zoom meeting at ten since their medical equipment broke for their gorilla.”

Dean leans against your desk with a sexy smirk on his face. What you wouldn’t give to see that smirk behind closed doors. If you put aside the fact that you’re his personal assistant, there is one reason why you shouldn’t fall for a man like Dean Winchester. He’s a successful CEO but you know he’s involved with shady shit on the side. You’re not sure what his deal is but you know it isn’t legal. You turn a blind eye to the many times he’s come into work with bloodstains on his stark white shirt.

Maybe you should run. Any sane, logical person would but you’ve never been the one to listen to that side of you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Cry, maybe. This business would crumble without me.”

“Don’t I know it,” he chuckles.

“So, I have two interviews coming in today, both for the marketing department, Dalton Martinez wants to schedule a meeting with you, and--”

“How about this,” he cuts you off, “you take care of the interviews today and I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Okay.”

He walks into his office and you can’t help but watch him leave. He’s such a good-looking man that it’s hard not to fall for his charm. You tried asking what he does in his free time when you saw his bloody shirt for the first time but he refused to talk about it. You haven’t asked him about it since even though you want to.

The two interviews come and go and now you’re stuck at your desk replying to emails, drafting up contracts for Dean, and planning his next work trip. Right when the clock strikes twelve, Dean comes out of his office without his jacket on. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and you vermouth waters at the sight of his white shirt stretching across his broad chest.

“Hey, are you busy for lunch?”

“No.”

“Want to have lunch with me? I’ll be stuck in this office all day.”

“Sure,” you smile. You log out of your computer and grab your lunch bag from the fridge you have underneath your desk. You pass by one of the other ladies on the floor and she tsks when you approach her desk. “What?”

“Be careful not to get involved with him.”

“I’m not. It’s just lunch.”

You walk into Dean’s office who is standing by this floor-length windows with a glass of whiskey in hand.

“Don’t tell me that glass is your lunch.”

“No.” He walks over to his desk, reaches into the mini-fridge, and pulls out a meatball sandwich he made before coming to work. “So, tell me about your day.”

You eye the glass of whiskey on his desk. “Maybe we should talk about your day. Addiction can ruin someone’s life.”

“It’s not an addiction. It’s a coping mechanism.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather talk about you. Any plans this weekend?”

“I might need something stronger than water if I’m going to talk about that,” you chuckle.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

You get up and pour yourself a strong drink before downing it in one go. That will be a mistake later but you don’t care. You pour yourself another glass before sitting back down across from him.

“Let me know if this is unprofessional but I haven’t had a date in two years. In the last relationship I was in, he tried to have me killed. I come from very old money but I like to work hard for what I have instead of using what my family gives me every week.”

“I understand,” Dean nods, leaning back in his chair as he listens intently.

“When my ex-boyfriend found out about my money, he wanted it. He wanted to be rich and powerful, but I realized that all he ever wanted from me was money. I was done giving it to him so I broke things off which is when he tried to kill me. I tried to move on but he’s always there to ruin things for me. I kind of gave up on romance and having friends. So, the answer to your question is no, I don’t have any plans this weekend. He won’t let me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Like I’m going to tell you that,” you scoff. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re into some shady shit. I might not know what you do in your free time but I know it’s not legal.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle him, but it’d be really nice if I could just wake up one day and feel free.”

Dean leans forward and rubs his hands together. All he can think about is your life in danger and the mere thought sends him into a rage.

“Listen to me. I want you to call me any time of the day and I will help you if you need it.” You nod. “I need you to promise me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Cherry is my safe word.”

You immediately choke on your water and almost spit it out on the ground. You cough as you try to regain your composure while Dean watches with an amused look.

“Excuse me?” you cough.

“When someone I know is in danger, they tell me cherry and I know to drop everything for them. That includes you, too.”

“I don’t think I’ll need it,” you clear your throat, “but I promise to use it if I do.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly and without issue. Dean has been working hard to get everything done before his work trip to Europe, and you’re working hard to make sure he has everything he needs. He asked you to come but you haven’t given him an answer yet. A whole trip with Dean by yourself? That’s a mistake waiting to happen but it would be nice to go to Europe for a week.

Every day for the remainder of the week, you and Dean have lunch in his office and talk about anything and everything. If you didn’t know him as your boss, you two would have made such great friends… maybe something more. He’s leaving for Europe on Monday so you have at least three days to give him an answer on if you’re going or not. Everything will be paid for so all you have to do is show up at the airport at four in the morning if you want to go.

Maybe…

Friday comes around and you’re staying a bit later than normal to finalize everything he needs for his trip. It’s past eight when you finally get done and you shut your computer down for the weekend. Dean is still in his office when you leave, and you head to the carport where your car is. You’re looking at your phone and not paying attention when someone steps in your way. You stop feeling a set of eyes on you and you look up to see your ex-boyfriend at the entrance of the carport.

“Hey, Y/N, long time no see,” he grins.

You immediately turn and head back to work when you see two of his friends blocking that way. The only way you’re going to get out of this is to use the alleyway next to the building. If you can cut through it, you’ll be on the other side of the carport where your car is. You might be able to make it if you’re quick. Elijah must know what you’re going to do because he starts walking over to you. You jump into action and sprint into the alley with your phone clutched in your hand.

Cherry! Cherry! CHERRY!

You almost run into Elijah because you’re texting Dean, and you nearly fall on your ass while stumbling away from him.

“Why are you running from me? I just want to talk.”

You look behind you and see his two friends right blocking the only other way out of the alley. You turn back to Elijah and notice something black glinting in his hands. He has a gun. Your heart starts to race but you force yourself to keep a clear head.

“What do you want, Elijah? I made myself clear the last time I saw you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Please leave.”

“I will when you give what you owe me.”

“What I owe you?”

“You know the trouble you caused the day you left me? You know me pretty well so you know I don’t tolerate bratty behavior. I think two million dollars will make me forget how you left me. Right, boys?”

One of his friends steps to your back and you freeze in fear when you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Look at her, Eli, she looks like she’s about to cry,” he grins.

“She’s always been a crybaby.”

“I don’t have what you’re asking. Just leave me alone.” His friend grabs your hand and yanks your head back. “You son of a bitch!”

“Give me what I want and I’ll get out of your hair,” Elijah says and steps closer to you.

“Until you need your next fix, huh? Bite me,” you growl.

His friend lets your hair go and steps back to allow Elijah to deal with you.

“Leave her alone.”

All four of you look at the entrance of the alley to see Dean standing there with a deadly look on his face. He came. He got your message and he’s here. You’re scared that Elijah is going to hurt him even though Dean doesn’t seem the type to be scared of a gun.

“Beat it, old man,” Elijah growls.

“I don’t think you heard me,” Dean chuckles. “Get. Away. From. Her.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” Elijah waves his gun around and you stiffen in fear. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with so just leave before you get put into a body bag.”

“It’s you who will leave in a body bag. Not me.”

Dean takes out a gun from his suit jacket and points it at Elijah. Your ex panics and jumps behind you to use you as a shield, and he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your head.

“Yeah? What about now?”

“Dean,” you whimper in fear.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m very good at what I do.”

“Get back! I’ll shoot her!” Elijah yells. “She’ll be dead and it’ll be because of you!”

Dean aims his gun at Elijah and pulls the trigger. The shot causes both of his friends to scatter knowing you’re not worth the trouble. Blood sprays on your neck just as you scream in terror. Elijah’s grip on you loosens and he falls back onto the ground. You’re about to fall yourself but Dean is quick to catch you. You’re shaking like a leaf in his arms, and he uses the sleeves of his white shirt to wipe the blood off your neck.

“You’re safe, sweetheart.” You look around frantically, having not heard him. “You’re in shock right now but you’re safe. I didn’t shoot you.”

“What?” you ask and finally look at him.

“I didn't shoot you. You’re safe. He will never bother you again.” You try to look at your ex on the ground behind you but Dean grabs the sides of your face to stop you from doing so. “I told you, I’m very good at my job.” You put your head on his chest and cry, and he smooths down your hair. “Do you live alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Not tonight, you won’t. You’ll stay with me.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Thank you,” you say as Dean is bringing you back to his office.

“You don’t ever have to thank me. I will always be here if you need me.”

Yeah, falling for him is inevitable. It’s going to happen whether you want it to or not so may as well run with it instead of fight it.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst

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hoedamn-eron · 8 months

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baby, please - part 21

It's time.

Warnings: Long, (looooong) chapter. Labour (all labour is different for each person!). Hospitals, doctors. Medical jargon again, I researched as much as I could and from what I remember from my own birth experience, but may be inaccurate (I am from the UK, so it will probably be different than the US). A little angsty, but it's fine. Reader calls her friends 'guys' but it's used in a group setting. Not proofread at all, because it was huge, so there will be mistakes. Some swearing. Word count: 5,414 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 20 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 22

Apologies again that this is 1 whole day late!

You’d been…busy.

You had needed to keep your mind off of Santiago, because if not, you would just sit and cry all day (which made you feel extra pathetic, and you were not pathetic). So you had dived headfirst into finishing decorating, and unpacking, your house, and getting it ready for your babies.

And even though you had taken some paid PTO to get a head start on your maternity leave, you’d found yourself checking your emails (again, just for something to do). You’d somehow managed to get involved in some feedback for the most recent marketing launch, signing off on some final designs and helping out the team with some final bits and pieces.

Your friends (and one surprising day, Emily) have turned up at your house under the guise of helping you out with the house and shower you and your babies with more gifts.

But you know they were there to check on you and make sure you hadn’t had a breakdown.

So yes…you’d been busy. And you should probably start taking it easy, since you’ve started cramping for a few days. Although now they’re starting to hurt.

Jennifer and Dr Montgomery had both said that you were carrying two babies that were very quickly going to run out of room, and with your placenta issue, you were bound to feel aches and pains, so it wasn’t abnormal. Uncomfortable, yes, but not unusual. You just needed to relax, and you will. Eventually, but today wasn’t the day, because your new mirror had just been delivered and you’d roped your friends into helping you lug it up your stairs.

“Why did you get one so big?” Beth asked, huffing as she and Courtney took a break just outside the nursery.

“It was cute,” you say. “And the frame is nice. It adds to the blank wall in my bedroom.”

“It’s not a hanging mirror, is it?” Courtney asked, just as out of breath as Beth.

You shake your head. “No, it’s a standing mirror, it leans.”

“Oh good, I was debating having to call Andy.”

“Do you guys want takeout?” Gabrielle asked, suddenly appearing behind you all. She was looking at her phone, typing away. “I’ve managed to convince Matthew to watch the kids a little longer.”

“Sure,” you reply.

“Let’s just get this mirror in here first,” said Beth, before counting down again for her and Courtney to heave the mirror into your bedroom.

After a few more choice words thrown at each other, and the mirror finally in place in your bedroom (not smashed to smithereens, no matter how many times Beth threatened to demolish it), you all decide on Chinese for takeout. Once the food arrives, you settle at your dining table, dividing the food between the four of you.

You wince again as another twinge in your abdomen causes another wave of pain flows through you. You take a few deep breathes until it passes, and you turn back to your food. Your friends haven’t noticed, their conversation flowing as if nothing had happened.

Until Courtney asked how you were doing.

You shrug, digging around your food. “So-so.”

“Have you heard nothing from him? At all?” Beth asks.

You shake your head, not looking up from pushing your food around with your fork. “Nope. I don’t really think I want to, either.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence before Gabrielle bites her lip, then clears her throat lightly. “I uh…I heard from Ben that he’s leaving for South America in a few days.”

You look up at her, not sure how to feel, or what to say. You settle on an, “Oh.”

“Ben didn’t say where, he was messaging to check up on you, mostly,” Gabrielle says.

You shake your head, suddenly not feeling so hungry. You place your food on the table. “He can do what he wants, he made it perfectly clear what he wanted out of this.”

“I’m sorry this has happened to you,” said Beth, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze.

You give her a sad smile. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” replied Courtney firmly. “It was a shitty thing for him to do to you.”

You give her a small grin. “I mean, yeah, it was a shitty thing, but he’s entitled to his own opinion. I’m not going to force him to do something he doesn’t want to.”

Your friends go quiet at they merely stare at you, mixture of sadness and anger on their faces. You feel a warmth flow through you at your friends. You appreciated them so much, how protective they were of you, how you know that you wouldn’t be truly alone in this, that they were your chosen family, and they were your chosen family for a reason.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, giving Beth’s hand a squeeze back before pulling away. “Really. I’ll be the best mom these babies deserve.”

“And they’ll have the best aunties,” said Gabrielle, giving you a smile.

“She’s right,” said Courtney, pointing at Gabrielle then at yourself, giving you a look.

“We know what you’re like, and we don’t want you to think that you’re bothering us if you ask for help,” said Beth. “Or call us if you just need to have a talk. Or a meltdown. Or anything.”

“And one of us will take you to the hospital next week,” said Courtney firmly. “Don’t you worry about it.”

“And we’ll be there with you when your babies come into the world,” said Gabrielle.

Beth nodded in agreement. You sucked in your lips as you felt the tears flood your eyes, and you nod, looking down. You hear the shuffle of chairs and then you’re suddenly surrounded by a warm hug from your friends, and you grip onto them tightly, the warm feeling of love and companionship continuing to flow through you.

You give a small laugh before pushing them away. “Come on, you guys. You know everything is making me cry nowadays, don’t become another reason.”

They adhere to you eventually, and you continue to eat your takeout together. They offer to help clean up, but you usher them out the door, since it was getting late, and they had to leave you alone at some point. With a few good-natured grumbles, your friends eventually leave, with promises to check up on you again tomorrow. You roll your eyes but wave at them from your front door as they drive away.

You go into your house and close the door behind you, sighing as you lean against it. You stroke your bump, smiling at the swift kick you receive to the palm of your hand. It’s as if they knew exactly where you were. You make your way to your kitchen-dining room, and clear up the takeout containers, putting the leftovers in the fridge. You wash the plates, and when you put the last plate in your draining board, you let out a sharp gasp as another cramp hits you.

You lean against the counter, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

“Okay,” you say after the pain subsides. You rub at your bump, feeling how tense it was. “I hear you. I’ll take it easy. I’ll go to bed.”

You check again that your windows and doors are locked before you turn your lights off and make your way upstairs. You walk into your bedroom and into your en suite bathroom, before washing your face and brushing your teeth. You change into your comfiest pyjamas and settle into your bed, sighing in bliss at the feeling of the fresh sheets you’d placed on that afternoon. You stroke at your bump again, wishing your twins a goodnight, before you turn off the bedside light.

You’re exhausted, and the last week was catching up with you. It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep.

However, you wake up suddenly, groaning in pain, not feeling at all rested. You immediately curl in on yourself, your hands wrapping around your bump as the pain spreads through to your back. You try and breathe through it, but you find yourself gritting your teeth and cursing loudly. You shake your head, tears filling your eyes and threatening to spill over.

You couldn’t ignore the pains now, you needed to go to the hospital. You wait a few moments, the pain calming again as you slowly sit up, trying to gather your thoughts. You take a look at your phone, seeing that it was nearly 4am. You stand, a little wobbly on your feet, and turn on your lamp. You make your way to your bathroom again, throwing some cold water onto your face.

You look at yourself in the mirror as you pat your face dry with a hand towel. You look a little flushed. And...your bump has dropped. It's definitely dropped.

Holy shit. Maybe they weren’t just cramps from overdoing it.

You practically run to your phone as you call the hospital, then asking to be put through to labour and delivery.

“Hi, yes,” you say as a man picks up, and you quickly introduce yourself. “I’m...I’ve been booked in for a C-section next week but...but I think I've started labour.”

You let him know how Dr Montgomery had diagnosed you with placenta previa, and how for the past few days you’d been feeling tightenings, and that the cramps had gotten worse. You were advised to come in as soon as possible. You swallow back the urge to burst into tears as you thank the man over the phone before you hang up. You stare at your phone for a moment, your breathing a little strained as you try to process what was happening.

You might be in labour. Your babies might be here in the next day.

You feel sick. What do you do now? Were you even ready for this?

You mentally slap yourself. It’s a bit too late for that. You have to be ready!

You take a few steadying breaths, before making a note of the time you woke up as you make your way back into the bathroom. You make yourself look somewhat presentable and you go to change into some comfortable, all the while keeping an eye on the time in case another contraction (because they must be contractions) comes along.

You’d already packed your hospital bags in preparation for next week and you thank whatever Gods are looking down on you for having them ready for now.

You call a cab and wait patiently (or impatiently) for it to arrive. You can’t call your friends now, it’s far too early in the morning, and you’ve been relying on them for a while, no matter how many times they tell you that they’re happy to help. You'll update them once you’re in the hospital and settled in.

You go over your things one final time, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything as your Uber turns up. After explaining to your driver, he helps you with your hospital bags as you climb into the car, another contraction (because really, that’s what they are, you have to accept it now) overcomes you. You check the time on your phone as you breathe through it.

Fifteen minutes had passed since your last contraction.

That was a very short amount of time.

You time it as your driver pulls away, making the journey to the hospital. It wasn’t a long contraction, around thirty seconds, so you make a note of it for when you arrived at the hospital (which, by the speed you were going at, won’t take too long – the driver must be scared you’ll give birth in the back of your car).

You make it to the hospital, where the driver very kindly takes you and your bags to check in, where a nurse quickly prompts you into a wheelchair. You thank your driver again before he leaves, fully intending to give him a great tip.

You rattle off your timings for contractions to the nurse pushing your wheelchair, where she said she would make a note of it on your chart for Dr Montgomery. You thanked her, before she brought you to your room, getting you all set up.

After being examined by more doctors, and meeting the labour team, you were informed that it might be best to settle you in for monitoring and have Dr Montgomery talk you through the next steps. You were settled into your room and strapped up to all sorts of machines when Dr Montgomery came in, a clipboard in her hand. She grins at you from your place in the bed. “Couldn’t wait until next week, huh?”

You give a laugh. “Well, I could, but my kids had other ideas.”

“Well, you’re all checked out, and we think it’s best that we move your C-section forward, so we can see if we can organise one for you today. Since you’re not at 37 weeks, your babies may need to stay in the NICU for a few days, but we’ll monitor them, see how they do.” She looks at your chart before glancing around the room. “Santiago not joining us?”

You tense at her question, before awkwardly clearing your throat. “Uh…no. No, he won’t be.” You give a light shrug. “It didn’t work out…for him.”

“Oh,” said Dr Montgomery, before she gives you a sympathetic smile. “Well, these things happen. You won’t be the first single mother to come here, I can assure you.”

You feel a pain in your chest, and your throat close up as tears flood your eyes. You don’t know what to say, so you nod at her.

After she checks over your monitors, she tells you that she’ll go and get you booked in for your C-section as soon as possible, and gives you some drugs to slow down your contractions, in case she couldn’t get you sorted for another day. She gives you some words of encouragement and recommended you try and get some more sleep before she leaves your room.

There was a fat chance of you getting back to sleep after all of this.

You had packed a book that you had had for well over a year that you had every intention to read. There was no time like the present, since most of your time now would be taken up by two newborns.

And you eventually need to tell your friends that you were, in face, in labour.

You grab your phone, sending a quick message to your group chat. They wouldn’t see it until they woke up anyway, and it’s barely 5:30am.

Hey all. Just to let you all know, I’m in the hospital. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine! My C-section may be moved forward for today because the twins decided that it was time to make an appearance.

C: WHAT C: OMG C: WHAT

Your eyes widen as Courtney’s messages come flooding in.

Why are you awake!?

C: THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT C: ARE YOU OKAY? C: I AM SO EXCITED C: DO YOU NEED ME THERE? C: I don’t care what you say I’m coming anyway.

You laugh at her, telling her that she really didn’t need to, but she was already on the way. You send her your room details, before settling down to read your book, reading Courtney’s updates as she sends them over to you. You’re about half an hour into your book when Courtney shows up, bursting into your room, breathless, with her own overnight bag in her hands.

“How fast did you drive?” you ask her, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I slowed down for speed cameras,” she replied. Immediately making her way over to you and checking you over. “How are you? Are you okay? Are you in any pain?”

“They’ve given me some drugs to slow down my labour,” you reply. “Contractions are less painful now, and a little more spaced, so it’s definitely done the job.”

“Have you…have you contacted…”

You give her a look. “No, I haven’t.”

Courtney nods. “And your parents?”

You snort. “Same story.”

She gives another nod, more firm. “Okay. Just you and me then.”

It was nice, to have Courtney around. She took a few selfies with you and sent them into the group chat, and when Beth and Gabrielle finally saw the messages. You were immediately bombarded with questions of your wellbeing, when your C-section was planned for (that was still to be confirmed, but Dr Montgomery had been checking in with you throughout the day and your labour hadn’t progressed much further), and that they could be with you if you needed it.

But you were fine. Your nerves had settled, you were now even excited to meet your babies. Everything was running smoothly, and Dr Montgomery was due back in the hour to let you know if your C-section was happening tonight. You are a warrior, a fighter, and nothing will break your spirit. Whatever the outcome, you know that you will face it with courage and grace, for you are a woman, fierce and resilient, ready to conquer whatever lies ahead.

Courtney had stepped out to call Andy about half an hour ago, and was going to grab some food from the cafeteria. You had almost finished your book when the door to your room opened.

“Did you get lost coming back?” you joked, not looking up from your book.

With no answer, your brow furrows. You look up with the intention of asking Courtney if everything was okay, but your breathing stopped as you looked into the soulful and intense eyes of Santiago Garcia.

You slowly close your book, letting it fall to the bed. You had to be dreaming. You’ve fallen asleep reading your book, there was no way he was here. Not after your conversation last week, where he told you he didn’t want to be a dad, that he had no intention of being involved, how meeting you was practically a mistake.

“Hi,” he says, almost breathlessly.

You don’t know how to respond. Your mouth suddenly feels dry. You're sitting there, in the sterile scent of the hospital room, looking at the reason you’d been so damn miserable this last week. Your heart pounds like a drum against your ribcage, each beat echoing the anticipation that fills the room. Your hands, all of a sudden clammy and trembling, clutch onto the medical standard bed sheets draped over you.

The minutes stretch into eternity as you stare at him, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Fear and rapid anger grip you like a vice, squeezing your chest with each passing second.

Finally, you ask, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Santiago holds his hands up in surrender. “I know, I’m an asshole and you probably don’t want me here – “

“Damn right I don’t want you here,” you snap at him, eyes glowering. “I’m in the right mind to call security!”

“I know, I know,” he hurriedly says, taking a step towards the bed. “Just please, please, hear me out for a second.”

“I heard you out last week and you told me – “

“I know what I said last week,” Santiago said quickly, finally lowering his hands. “And…I was an idiot. I am an idiot.”

“How did you even know I was here?” you demanded.

“Benny told me,” Santiago replied.

You don’t ask how Benny knew (because honestly, you had a clue, and you’ll be having some choice words with a certain someone). You merely stare at him before shaking your head at him. “If you’ve come to tell me you’re leaving for South America, I already know, you didn’t – “

“I cancelled it,” he said, giving you an intense stare. “I needed to be here. With you.”

“No, no, you don’t,” you reply, already shaking your head. “I have Courtney, Courtney’s here with me.”

He flinches at your words, the guilt flickering across his features like a shadow. “I couldn't live with the regret of not being there for you, for them,” he says. “Knowing you were going through this...I couldn't stay away. I have to be here.”

You don’t say anything, merely stare at him and let him continue.

“I know I said I didn't want to be involved,” he begins, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. "But...I made a mistake. I got scared, scared of messing up, of not being enough for them and for you and I thought…I thought leaving would fix it, but it hasn’t.”

“You’ve realised this now?” you ask him, tears in your eyes. “You…you left me alone, and worried about the future with my kids, and we had an amazing few months together…”

Santiago shakes his head at you, tears in his own eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I can't change the past. But I'm here now, and I want to make things right. I want to be here for you, for our kids.”

You study him for a moment, still gripping the hospital sheets tightly. The tears start to fall as the moments stretch into a long silence, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You try to push away the thoughts of what could go wrong, but they linger, hovering at the edges of your consciousness like unwanted guests.

“Just because you cancel your trip – “ you cut yourself off, before you finally let out a sob, looking at him. “I don't know if I can forgive you.”

His shoulders deflate as he slowly nods at you. “I understand, corazón, I do, but please...let me be here for you now. Let me make things right. I miss you,” he says.

You open your mouth to reply but you’re interrupted by Courtney, making her way in with a brown paper bag.

“The line was huge at the cafeteria, so I went to Walmart down the street…” she goes quiet as her gaze lands on Santiago, before her jaw sets and her eyes harden. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came to apologise – “

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t need it,” Courtney snaps. “She’s fine. She’s been fine without you, and she can raise these kids herself. She doesn’t need you.”

Santiago turns to look back at you, but you can’t find the words to say. You want to believe him, to let go of the hurt and anger that have consumed you for the past week. But the wounds run deep, carved into the very fabric of your being. You meet his gaze, searching for any trace of sincerity amidst the turmoil of emotions that swirls between you.

He takes your silence as a rejection. He gives a sad sigh before nodding. “Okay. I understand.”

Courtney steps out of the way, motioning to the door.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers to you, his voice barely audible. “I was wrong. I’ll go. But I just want you know that I’ll be there for you, and for them, whenever you need. I’ll come to every doctor’s appointment and every school play, or sports game, and I’ll take them overnight whenever you need. I’ll help out with anything. Okay? I want to be their dad.” he gives you a look of longing and love before he turns to leave.

As you watch him leave your life again, you feel the panic overtake you. Your breathing quickens as you follow him with wide eyes. And in that moment, you realise that despite everything, despite the pain and the hurt, a part of you still longs for the connection you once shared. And your children deserve to have a father, whether you’re together or not. “Wait, wait!”

Santiago pauses, just as he gets to the door and looks back at you, his eyes wide. Even Courtney was looking at you with confusion.

“You can stay,” you say, nodding quickly. “I want you to stay. But we’re going to have a damn long talk after this.”

Santi’s shoulders sag again, this time in relief. He quickly makes his way over to you, and you throw the covers from you and swing your legs over the bed. With a quick order from him to not even think about getting out of the bed, he envelopes you in his arms. You feel a sense of warmth and security envelope you, all that matters is the connection between the two of you.

Your arms wrap around each other, pulling each other in tightly, as if trying to bridge the gap of all the time you've been apart. You can feel his heartbeat against yours, a steady rhythm that reassures you that he is real, he is here. In that moment, all your worries melt away, and you are left with nothing but the simple joy of being together again.

Courtney clears her throat awkwardly, causing the two of you to pull apart. “I can go home, if you need me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you say. “I have a feeling that Beth and Gabs might show up and I need you to keep them tethered.”

“Good news!” Dr Montgomery called as she walked into the room, faltering slightly before smiling widely at the sight of Santi. “Good to see you, Santiago, I’m glad you could join us. I was just about to let you all know that your C-section will be in an hour.”

Your heart skips a beat as you look at her. “I’m sorry, I think I just blacked out for a second. Did you say an hour?”

She smiles at you again as she nods. “Yes. In one hour, you two will be parents.”

You look at Santi, who was looking at you with an equally nervous look on his face. You bite your lip before smiling and looking back at Dr Montgomery. “Okay. One hour.”

“Santiago, we’ll get you scrubbed up just before you all go in,” said Dr Montgomery, checking your chart and noting your current heart rate and the babies’. “Will you be staying?” she asks Courtney.

You answer before Courtney could get a word in. “Yes, she will be. She might be with some other friends of ours though, in the waiting room.”

“The guys are here, actually, I better tell them to wait up,” said Santi. He looks back to you. “I’ll come back.”

You nod at him as he leaves. Courtney watches him and turns to you as the door clothes. “Are you sure about this?”

You take a breath before sighing. “Yes. I am. If not for me, then for our kids. We don’t have to be together as long as he’s there for them.”

“And if he decides again that he doesn’t want to be their dad?”

You want to snap at her, to tell her to have some faith, but she was right, it might be a possibility. What if he does change his mind when the twins get here, when they’re out in the big wide world, and need all the protection they could get? What if in a few years he does find a girlfriend who wants a family with him, and he prioritises them over your kids?

You shake your head. You can’t think that now. Santi’s a good man. He doesn’t make the same mistake twice. “I trust him.” You say to Courtney.

Courtney gives a sigh before nodding. “Okay. And I trust you.”

You nod before looking back to Dr Montgomery, giving a nervous smile. “So, what now?”

You’re prepped for surgery, Courtney on the phone with Beth as she keeps her and Georgia in the loop. Gabrielle had to stay at home with the kids, but planned to FaceTime when Beth finally made it to the hospital.

“Traffic is horrendous,” Beth snapped down the phone.

You faintly heard Georgia screaming in general at the traffic, causing you to laugh. They had time, it was fine. And Santi was pacing your hospital room, on the phone with one of his sisters. You could hear here reprimanding him about something or other in Spanish, and you grinned in amusement.

In no time at all, you were being wheeled out of your room, Courtney giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, wishing you good luck, and that she will be in the waiting room with Beth and Georgia (and from what Santi said, Frankie, Benny, and Will too).

You nod at her and give her a teary smile and you and Santi are led into the theatre. You take a deep breath, looking around at the doctors and at Santi, who was already staring at you, giving you a gentle smile. You give him a small laugh. “The scrubs suit you; you should study to be a doctor.”

“Can’t stand for long hours with my bad knees,” he teases back.

You give a small laugh before you turn to look at him. “Dr Mongomery said they might need to go to the NICU for monitoring.”

Santi inhales sharply for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Do you have an overnight bag?” you ask him, eyes wide with concern. “It’s an hour back home, I don’t want you going back and forth all the time.”

“I do have a bag,” he says, grinning. “I left it in my car.”

You freeze, your eyes widening at you look at him. “In your car?”

“In my car,” he replied, giving you a pointed look. “Went to a dealership this afternoon.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him. “Really?”

“I still have my truck,” he said, giving a small laugh. “Might give it to Benny. His truck is always breaking down and he relies on Will to take him everywhere.”

You could cry. You were crying. You were ugly sobbing as you laugh at yourself. “Couldn’t truly part with it?”

“At least it’ll be going to good hands,” said Santi as you’re finally brought to your operating room.

Dr Montgomery explains to you the procedure, and the risks it may come with as the other surgeons set up the partition and prep you for surgery. You nod along with Dr Montgomery, and you’re thankful when Santi places his own hand into your shaking one. You grip him tightly as Dr Montgomery smiles at you.

“You’re in good hands. The best hands,” she says, before she disappears to prepare herself.

You take a shaky breath before looking at Santi. He takes a seat and sits by your head as you hear the doctors talk about your epidural. He leans down and starts stroking your hair.

“Everything’ll be okay,” he said, the repetitive movements of his hand soothing you.

You nod at him, trying to calm your thundering heart. You don’t take your eyes from Santi’s as he squeezes your hand, smiling at you. You give him a nervous smile back. Santi lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, trying to calm your nerves.

You think back to yourself not even a year ago, finding out you were pregnant by a complete stranger, and going through the journey together; through the ups and downs of accepting the pregnancy, and having to rearrange your lives to begin this new chapter, and dealing with the loss scare, and Santi’s uncertainty. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how much you love him, how happy you were that he was here, now.

You open your mouth to tell him, but you’re interrupted by Dr Montgomery.

“Are you ready?” she asks from over the screen.

You pause for a moment, just staring at Santi who gives your hand another reassuring squeeze. You take a deep breath and sigh it out before looking away from him and staring up at the ceiling. You give a nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Then let’s get started,” Dr Montgomery replies, smiling before disappearing behind the partition.

It was an odd feeling, having the doctors rummage around in you. You tried to focus on anything; the feeling of Santi’s hand in yours, what Dr Montgomery was saying to her team, but the blood rushing in your ears drowned out anything and everything around you. You bite your lip, feeling your chin quiver with unshed tears and your grip on Santi’s hand tightens, threatening to never let go.

Your eyes flutter closed at you concentrate on your breathing…

Until your eyes snap open at the sudden, high-pitched sound of a baby crying fills the room.

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader #santiago garcia x f!reader

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