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bisexualiteaa · 5 months

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Domestic Serenity

Soft Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Fem reader

Synopsis: You and Cooper return to your settlement you set up, it being the closest thing you could call a home on those harsh days in the sun and from the rad storms. After too many close run it’s lately out in the wastelands, Cooper comes home from the market to appreciate the closest thing you guys have to a post apocalyptic little slice of domestic life and show you how much he cares about you.

CW: Smut MDNI! Slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from the show, oral (fem receiving) dirty talk, established relationship, unprotected sex, p in v, irradiated cream pie, p0rn w/o plot, reader has a southern accent, Cooper being a perv, Cooper makes a few crews jokes and one liners to reader

AN: so I’m relatively new to Fallout lore and such, but the hubby and I finished the Fallout TV series a week or so ago and like most others, Cooper Howard’s got me in a grip tighter than his lasso. 😮‍💨 Please be gentle, I pulled a little from Fallout 4 and the TV series in a meshing that I thought felt right. This is briefly proofread but I’m still new to all things Fallout but I hope I did our cowboy justice and I hope y’all enjoy!

You were doing laundry for the day in your house, or better yet, what you could call a house these days, at the little settlement you set up for you and Cooper to live, and some houses for a good few other people you’d met along the way to make it into a nice small town. There was plenty of food to go around from the growing gardens, fresh, clean water, some electricity to keep the gates protected from raiders and things of the like, but also for some street lights at night. It was like a nice little slice of life before the war, or the closest you could get to it anymore anyway, it was peaceful.

It was a particularly sweltering hot day outside, hotter than usual as the sun beat down on the sand, and your skin when you’d step foot outside for even just a few minutes. “Shew, it’s hotter than hell outside” you exclaim, feeling the rush of the hot air that funneled in when Cooper set foot through the door. You were thankful to have chosen a pair of shorts and a tank top to wear out of your small selection of other clothes when you woke up this morning. “Don’t half mind it. Means I get to watch you pad around the house in them lil’ shorts you got on” Cooper said as he shut the door finally, then dropped his saddlebag and things off at his feet, having just come back from a run to the market to grab the essentials like RadAway, Rad-X, Stimpacks and some other chems and things here and there to keep handy for when you both set back out on your travels. You heard his boots clomp heavily against the floor as he drug himself inside, his eyes traveling your figure as you were washing some clothes in a wash bin, watching you bend over and your ass shake a little when you would scrub hard enough at some stains. He gave a crude whistle at the sight, one you were used to him using as a form of expressing that he liked something, making a small grin stretch to your lips. “Somethin’ tells me you’d make one hell of a sexy housewife” he said, coming behind you and tapping your ass playfully to get you to stand back up. You gave a chuckle before swatting at his hands as you turned to face him, making him only grin wider. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. Although I’d miss wanderin’ the desert with you and all the shit we get up to” you said with a grin, putting the rag you had in hand over your shoulder as he stepped closer. “Like annoyin’ the piss outta me and stealin’ my kills?” He asked playfully, putting his hands gently on your hips to pull you into a kiss. You giggled in response as you put your hands against his chest to keep him close. “You love watchin’ me kill things with that big ol’ gun’a mine” you said in between kisses, making him hum in agreement with you, or maybe it was a groan at the thought because you were right, the sexiest thing to him was seeing you with a gun in hand, cocking it back after taking down raiders, roaches, scorpions, or whatever your target may be, with the confidence you do. He loved the excited “oh yeah!” Or “booyah!” You’d say to yourself afterwards too in celebration before you’d both rummage through whatever it was you downed. “Oh I absolutely do. Like it even better when it ain’t my bounties you’re droppin’ there, lil’ missy” he quipped, making you giggle again as he tapped your hip with his gloved hand before parting from you to let you get back at what you were doing. Also to watch you bend over some more, can’t restrain a dog once it’s loose. “Just be a quicker shot honey bun, then it won’t be a problem!” You joked, twirling the rag that was over your shoulders in your hands to wind it tight before cracking it against his ass, making him turn his head to look at you from over his shoulder all slow and intimidating like. “Oh it’s like that now, is it?” He asked, turning towards you some more, making you flash him a wide, deviant smile, knowing exactly what you did and that you’d likely be paying the consequences for it here in a few seconds. “Maybe it is! Whatchya gon’ do ‘bout it?” You asked with a widening grin the closer he got.

Before he gave you an answer, he picked you up, placing you over his shoulder with ease. You yelped playfully as he did, still sometimes surprised by the strength he carried before laughing as you started to wiggle in his grasp. “Fix that lil attitude of yours ya got goin’ on” he said, tapping his hand against your ass again, making you only laugh more as he started to walk out of the kitchen away from your chores. “Cooper! I was in the middle of somethin’ there, put me down!” You ordered through your relentless giggles as he continued to walk, almost slow at this point to torment you. “No can do sweetheart. Not ‘til you’ve nicened up” he said as he brought you to the bedroom and threw you on the bed but not too harshly. Just enough to see you bounce and hear you laugh. “I was in the middle of laundry! Your shirts’ll get all starchy an’ stiff if I don’t do it a certain way” you said, sitting up some and getting ready to get up but he sat down with you, which stopped you. He gave you a grin as he looked at the way your thighs were squeezed by the legs of your shorts, and how short they were sitting on you. “My shirts ain’t the only thing gettin’ stiff, I can tell ya that much” he said, making you swat at him once more as he gave a raspy laugh at your blush and facial expression in reaction. “You fiend. You ever thinkin’ with that head on your shoulders? Or just the one in your pants?” You asked with a smirk, knowing all too well the answer to that question, not that you minded one bit either. “I think we both know they’re about the same, I ain’t ever seen you complain about it” he said, making you chuckle as he leaned in and pulled you into another soft, loving kiss that you knew was going to lead to something much more. “Not one bit” you replied between kisses as his hands rested on your hips once more, giving you a nice squeeze while also doing what he could to keep you as close as he could get. He always had his hands on you in some way, sometimes in a suggestive way, but most times in a protective manner. He had to show the others and everyone out there in the commonwealth that no one fucks with, or gets between him and his girl. “C’mon take a break, laundry can wait. I ain’t seen you all day” he said, and he always did have a way with words that made you weak. “Only if ya promise me you won’t get mad if your shirts get stiff” you said, making him laugh. “I don’t give two shits about how them shirts feel, I just need you” he replied, making you smile as that happy twinkle came to your eyes, and gosh how they lit up every time you saw him. “Then I suppose the laundry can wait” you said with a soft giggle as he started to climb over top of you as you laid back against the bed again. Your hair fanned out around you against the pillows like a halo, your eyes half lidded as you looked up at him expectantly with those siren eyes he swore turned his mind into a frenzy. You smiled up at him with those pretty white teeth before he kissed you, feeling his hands wander your frame over your tank top and moving downward as your arms looped around him to pull him closer.

Your one hand removed his large hat, placing it off to the side as the kiss grew more heated, your tongues tangling in a fight for dominance with one another, a battle which he won. You moaned into it as one of his hands slipped beneath your tank top, surprisingly free of his gloves as he groped one of your breasts, tweaking your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Let’s get this off’a you” he said, bringing your tank top up and over your head then tossing it to the side to be forgotten until later, trailing his kisses down your neck to your chest that now laid bare and exposed to the air. You were always a sight to behold to him, no matter how many times you had sex, or how many times he’d just seen you naked or even half naked, he considered himself lucky that you chose him. When he looked at you, everything felt right in the world again, even out in desolate wasteland. When you looked at him, you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, like he was your whole world, and he was. “My beautiful lady” he complimented before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, working his tongue and thin cracked lips along it as he toyed with the other in his fingers, being sure to give them both the love they deserved. You moaned as he did, your back keening up off the mattress some at his touch. It had been a while since the last time you two had a chance to have sex, so needless to say you were more than receptive to his touches. You shut your eyes as your head fell back against the pillow, soft moans leaving your throat as he switched treatments, leaving behind nice little hickeys as a reminder of who you belonged to. You bit your lip and casted your gaze down onto him as you felt his lips begin to trail down your chest to your stomach, before he was resting between your legs. “Much as I like these, don’t think you’ll be needin’ ‘em right now” he said, unbuttoning and sliding his fingers into the waistband of your shorts before tugging them down and off from you, tossing them aside as haphazardly as he did with your top. His eyes delighted him when he saw you lying before him in lace, a commodity that’s damn hard to come by these days, making him whistle before making another sound of satisfaction at the sight. “And you were just gonna let this stay hidden? You’re like unwrappin’ a present” he said, making you giggle as he was careful with them as he slid them off you, but tossed them aside all the same. “You’re enough to make a man like me go feral darlin’, ya know that?” He said, making you chuckle once more. “Gettin’ you t’ act a fool is my favorite pass time” you replied, making him chuckle before he placed one of your legs over his shoulder, laying teasing butterfly kisses to your inner thigh that trailed slowly down to your aching cunt.

“Thought I’d pick up some RadAway while I was down at the market today for ya, that way I can give ya what you’ve been wantin’” he said as he sheathed himself fully inside, giving you a moment to breathe and accommodate to his size and the intrusion. You gave a happy little gasp that made him give a dark chuckle in response. “How romantic” you said teasingly but you were truly warmed by it, a bright smile on your face that joined with the blush that came from him already prodding at the apex of your cervix. “Anythin’ for you sweetheart. Besides, be a real shame if this sweet ass a yours looked like mine because of my doin’” he said, making you laugh. “Oh hush you, you’re mighty fine in my book” you said, pulling him into a soft sweet kiss. “For a cowpoke anyway” you added to tease, earning a sharp snap of his hips against yours in retaliation, making a loud moan leave your lips. “Wanna try that again, darlin’?” He asked, making you blush a bit brighter. “Was just kiddin’, shit. But if that’s what I gotta do t’ get ya t’ be rough with me, might just have to get on all them nerves of yours” you responded, making him smirk down at you, god he loved that attitude and humor you always about you, it’s one of the things that kept him going through all this. “If you want rough, all ya gotta do is ask. Fair warning, I don’t play nice when I do” he said, snapping his hips once more to hit deep inside of you, making your back arch up off the mattress once more. “Fuck, don’t want you to play nice. Want you t’ fuck me like you hate me” you said, making him chuckle as he quickly pulled out, making you whine at the loss of contact before you were abruptly rolled onto your stomach and his hand reached into your hair to pull your body into a harsh arch. “That dirty mind and mouth a yours’ll be both our undoin’ sweet cheeks” he said, bullying his way back into your pussy, starting a harsh pace that had your eyes rolling back as his hips slapped against your ass harshly. “You and I both know ya wouldn’t want me any other way” you quipped, making him chuckle as he yanked your hair to pull you back some more, earning a loud moan from you. “Look mighty tasty like this, I could just eat you alive” he said in a low growl, his lips and teeth sinking to your shoulder, leaving a bruise and teeth marks behind, marking and claiming you as his. He felt the way your walls squeezed around him as you whimpered pathetically with his bite, and the way you grew wetter as he did. “Fuck…Cooper” you moaned, making him chuckle as his hands gripped your hips, watching as you moved your hips back and met his thrusts hungrily. “Sure is a pretty sight, seein’ you split open on this cock. Hungry little thing, swallowin’ me the way you do. Tell me who this pretty pussy belongs to” he said, making you grin proudly at his praise. “‘s all yours baby, only for you” you replied as you felt the bed start to rock back and forth and heard it creaking beneath your bodies as he found that spot inside you liked so much. For as hot as it was outside, you two fucked like it was the only way to keep warm. “Damn straight. Fuck…” he groaned, enjoying the sight of your ass jiggling each time his cock entered then reentered you and the sounds you made when it would happen. “So close…please, don’t stop” you begged, knowing full and well he never had any intentions to, but the words flew from your mouth as if they were the only thing you knew to say. You felt one of his hands leave your hip, coming to reach and rub tight circles against your clit, making that coil in the pit of your stomach wind tighter. “Cum for me baby” he said, working you closer and closer to your peak that was just around the corner, all you needed was one last push and he knew it, he could feel it with the way your walls hugged him.

He bit down on your shoulder once more, making you moan as you toppled over the edge. Your walls clenched around him tightly, earning a groan from him as your cunt spasmed and milked him for everything he could give you. Your mouth laid open in a wide O shape as your back arched, keeping him deep inside of you as his release creeped up on him from yours. He let out a deep, feral growl as he came inside of you with his teeth sunk into your perfect skin, missing the feeling of what it was like to empty himself into someone again. You hummed contentedly as you felt him fill you up, a pleasant tingle running through you as he laved over the teeth marks with his tongue. “You alright, sugar? Wasn’t too rough with ya, was I?” He asked by your ear, littering your skin with kisses as one of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your side. You gave a giggle. “You always act like you’re gonna break me” you replied, making him chuckle. “I just might if I ain’t careful, certainly ain’t known for being a softy for others sweetheart” he said, making you chuckle as he pulled out of you slowly, trying his best not to hurt or overstimulate you both, allowing you to turn around and look at him. “Maybe I’d like it if ya did, but no you didn’t go rough on me. Was perfect, as always” you responded flirtatiously but with a sweet smile, making him chuckle dryly once more. “Good, I’ll always take good care of my girl” he replied, leaning down to kiss you softly before grabbing a rag and wetting it to help clean you up. As he came back and spread your legs, he watched his seed leak from you, moving down your thighs. He gave a crude whistle. “Now that’s a sight” he said with a mischievous grin, making you roll your eyes with an entertained smile as he helped clean you up, laying a kiss to your inner thigh. “At least give me a little recovery time, I ain’t got that stamina you got yet” you said, making him laugh as he disposed of the rag and climbed back into bed with you. “And don’t worry, I had my Rad-X for the day. Though I gotta say, that’s a feeling that’s totally worth a little radiation sickness if ya ask me” you said, both of you giving a chuckle as you kissed him softly once more, your hand resting on his chest as you did. “Well, just t’ be safe, I got RadAway. Some for me to keep me from turnin’ feral and rippin’ you to pieces, and some for you for those nights you crave that sweet feelin’” he said, handing you the IV bag of yellow liquid from off the bedside table. “What would I ever do without you?” You asked, hooking it up to the rack and putting the IV in to allow it to take effect. “A whole lotta nothin’ good I imagine. Probably spend a whole lotta nights hoping them dainty little fingers a yours can achieve anything close t’ what I give ya every night” he teased with a grin, making you roll your eyes with a laugh but he wasn’t wrong.

His hand came to yours, pulling it to where your fingers would intertwine with his, something he always did when you used needles and medicines on yourself as a gesture of comfort. He pulled his inhaler and a vile of RadAway from his duster that lay on the floor as you let the bag drip slowly. He took a hit off of his inhaler, giving a contended sigh as he leaned back against the pillows and let it work its way into his system. He looked over to see you, admiring him like he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. He gave you a sweet smile, one pulled deep from his heart as you leaned your head against his shoulder. One that said the three words he’d been struggling to try and tell you after all this time being together, a loving look in his usually dark, haunting gaze. “I love you” he said, making you look up at him in astonishment that he’d finally come around to saying it. You smiled at him, that same sweet smile he saw the first time he ever sent a flirty word your way, the same smile he’d come to absolutely adore seeing stretch to your cute face every time you saw him. “I love you too, Coop” you replied back, easing the tightness in his chest as he awaited your response. He gave you a relieved smile as he kissed your head, slinging his arm around you to pull you into his side and hold you close.

The moment was sweet, quiet save for the sounds of your joined breathing and heartbeats but peacefully so. You both stayed like that for a good while, the bag of RadAway already run down to nearly empty. That peace was disturbed when you realized you still had some chores on your list left to do for the day. “Shit, I still got laundry and shit to do” you said, sighing as you realized it and tipped your head back with a groan, removing your IV and bandaging up your arm, getting ready to get up and go back to it. “Hold it there, little lady” Cooper said, getting up and putting his briefs and pants back on. “I gotchya. You rest that pretty head a yours while I take care of it, ‘kay? Let that stuff work its way in ya” He said, making you look up at him. “You ain’t gotta do that Coop…” you replied, making him shake his head at you. “Shh, shh, shh. Don’t you move a muscle there, pretty lady. I got it” he urged, kissing your head once more before placing his hat back on his head, grabbing his shirt from the floor and throwing his duster over his shoulder. “‘s a good look on you” you said with a half lidded smile, your eyes raking his form as he turned and looked at you, shooting a grin your way. “And that is a good look on you” he replied, tipping his head to gesture at you who still laid in bed naked, hair slightly messy, a few bite marks and hickeys littering your otherwise mostly unblemished skin. You gave a grin and a giggle as he stood there, a calculated look in his eyes as he looked you over, resting himself by his arm along the doorframe. “I think I can live without a couple extra shirts” he said, tossing his shirt across the room without a care for where it landed, dropping his duster along the chair in the room. “What are you…Cooper!” You yelped playfully as he climbed back onto the bed, a hungry look in his eyes as he climbed over top of you. “Chores can wait a day, I need you sugar” he said, leaning down and slotting his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. “I need this” he added genuinely, his tone soft and loving as he pressed his forehead to yours while he held one of your hands in his. “Been enough days out in that shit hole wasteland that got me scared I was gonna lose you, and that’s somethin’ I just can’t have. So I wanna enjoy this, this little slice of paradise we got right now, with you” he said between soft, loving kisses, making you smile as you gave in and kissed him back. Laundry could wait for another day, he was right, times like these were hard to come by. Needless to say, no other chores got done that day, but it was certainly a night neither of you would ever forget.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #fallout x reader #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader

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shelbgrey · 5 months

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Hey Pookie so there is this very sexy man named Mark Sloan and I was wondering if you could write some beautiful Fluffy/Smutty dating Headcanons for him PLZ

Dating Mark Sloan headcanons

Paring: Mark Sloan x Shepherd!Reader

Summary: headcanons about Mark Sloan dating Derek's little sister -SMUT warning!

💚MasterList ML2 💚Dating Mood board

You guys started fake dating... That's how it all started. He wanted to make Addison Jelouse and you just want to get back at her for hurting your brother Derek.

You had 10 rules to this plan:

NO Sex - you

Never break rule #1 - you

Be on Mark's services/work in plastics if needed -Mark

Go on dates at least twice a month to make the act look real - Mark

No kissing or touching - if you have to just kiss forehead/cheek and don't touch anything below the waist - you

No sex with nurses, Mark - it'll blow the cover - you

Be nice to my friends(I don't care if you hate interns) - you

Trust each other - mark

Don't play favorites in the hospital - includes not helping with most surgeries/patients - you

Don't fall in love with each other - you

Derek hates it at first, even during the time you guys were faking it all. “stay away from my sister” Derek snapped at mark.

“too late... We're already together”

Derek and Mark got into a fight... That ended with black eyes, bruises, and Mark needing stitches on his face.

“I'm sorry this happened” you mumbled softly as you stitched his jaw for him. He stared at you with those blue eyes you love so much. “don't worry about it”

“maybe we should stop this whole thing” you suggested, Mark shook his head. “no, we got this. Rule #8, remember?” but really he was already falling so hard for you and he wanted to keep you close as long as possible.

Spoil alert you guys broke rule #10 and fell hard for each other. Well he fell first, but you fell harder. “I want this for real... No more fake shit, I love you”

After that ordeal you figured you owed Derek an explanation. Derek never found out about the fake dating, but you need to tell him where your feeling stand. “you love him, don't you?” Derek asks.

“I do... And I trust him” you say.

“if he hurts you... Cheats on you, I'll kill him” simply Derek said and you guys moved on with your lives.

Once you guys start dating for real he faithful and his heart now belongs to you.

Even Derek gave him credit for that. During the few months of you guys actually dating, deek would keep an eye on him. A hot nurse would walk by and Mark wouldn't even look at her.

You see a different side to Mark. He stops looking at any other woman. He just looks at you.

His sweeter, gentler side is only reserved for you.

Callie is your biggest supporter. Always hyping your relationship up. Mark might go to her for relationship advice. Callie might even be a referee during arguments.

Callie is definitely your best friend. You, Mark, and her the hospital's main trio.

Double dates with Callie and Arizona or Derek and Meredith.

He needs physical contact all the time. Rather it be cuddling on bed or on the couch or holding hands in the hospital.

He's a big cuddler. Sometimes he'll just wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest without saying anything.

He's so flirty with you. No matter how many years you've been together, he still thinks you're the sexiest, most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Like I said, he flirts with you so much. Some times he'll come up behind you while your working and whispere suggestive comment in your ear or grab your ass.

“stop it! We're at work” you quietly scolded him after his gabered your ass. “I can't help it... You have a nice ass”

You steal his leather jacket all the time, even though it looks big on you he thinks it's hot as hell on you. Now and days the only time he sees that jacket is if your wearing it.

Dirty jokes all the time. If you hear something remotely dirty you'll whisper, “that's what she said”

If he's had a hard day, he either needs one of two things. A rough fuck or he needs to curl up beside you and cuddle.

The way he kisses you makes your heart race. He holds your face in his hands and you honestly feel like you and him are the only things that matter in the world.

But he is a rough kisser, but mostly he's a passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

He's soft with you when it comes to holding you and give affection. He's so gentle and delicate and you can tell through the way he brushes your hair from your face or the way he nuzzles his face into your neck that he just absolutely adores you.

Your is Angel and he feels so unworthy of you. He's so lucky to have you in his life and he doesn't want to screw it up.

Mark's not the jelouse type and neither are you. Dispite his man-whore past you both have a lot of trust in your relationship, but if you be-friend Jackson I think Mark would get jelouse.

Mark hates the way Jackson looks at you, Mark knows he likes you. But your completely oblivious to it because all you see is Mark.

Doggie parents at the beginning of your relationship. You brought home a rotwiler puppy home without him knowing one time.

That dog is your protector rather or not Mark is there or not. He also gets jealous of Mark and will nuzzle his way between you too if your hugging or kissing.

Sometimes you guys will get home so late from the hospital you'll just want to set on the couch and watch TV because your both sleep deprived.

You guys really don't know why or how you got into it, but you found a Chanel that shows re-runs of American Ninja Warrior and old WWE matches. You guys just stated watching them all the time.

He calls you Angel

You guys play wrestle all the time. Sometimes he'll just let you win because he loves seeing you being so happy about.

He steals the covers all the time and if you get cold you'll cuddle closer to him to get warm. He's relized this, so he'll intentionally steal the covers just to have extra cuddle time.

You get upset if he makes the interns that are on his service get him coffee or get his dry cleaning. “they aren't your servants, Mark” you say, taking the money back from the intern.

If you want Mark to do that stuff himself, you have to threaten to do it yourself. “I'll get it, I'm going that way anyway” you say and mark will quickly stop you. “no, no, I'll do it... You don't have to do that crap for me”

You guys don't fight often, but if you do it's usually a couple of days of the silent treatment. Both of you are too stubborn to say sorry or admit your wrong too.

Watching old Universal monster movies, your favorite is The Bride of Frankenstein. You even got him to dress up at the two monsters with you on Halloween one time.

If your sick he'll drop everything and take care of you, he doesn't care if he catches whatever you have he wants you comfortable and cared for.

His apartment getting the 'girlfriend touch', everything is just cleaner and more organized when you start living with him. “where's my belt?” Mark asked looking all over the bedroom floor where it used to be.

“in your dresser where it's supposed to be... And if I step on it one more time it's going in the trash”

✨Passenger princess✨

If you have a Stanley or a water bottle, whatever you drink out of, Mark will probably be drinking out of it too. You guys kiss and have sex all the time, so he doesn't care if he drinks after you.

NSFW headcanons:

He’s an expert at foreplay. He’ll spend as much time as he can trying to get you hot and bothered or worked up.

He has a tendency to grip the headboard when he's close to cumming.

He has this mischievous kind of charm to him and he uses it to his advantage when it comes to getting your attention. He knows all your ticks and can easily get your riled up.

Mark loves bitting your neck just to hear you moan. When you finally give in to him, he'll lay you down on the couch or bed and start pealing your clothes off to reveal your chest.

He's definitely the dominant person in bed and your not complaining, he'll get rough and pound hard enough were the bed starts rocking.

The sex maybe rough, but Mark isn't not big on insults. He refuses to degrade you and will only use sweet words.

If you’re struggling to take him in or taking long to adjust, he’ll whisper reassurances that you’re doing a good job while rubbing his hands on your back and thighs.

He prefers missionary, growling in your ear while his hands grip yours above your head.

Mark also loves watching your face while you bounce up and down his dick. He loves the expressions you make when he thrusts up into you when you least expect it.

Mark just likes to lay back and just watch you ride him, he loves the feeling of your thighs and ass in his hands.

He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

He loves the sounds you make. The moaning, the begging, everything.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

Bondeg kink, handcuffs, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.

There's also a tone of jealous sex. If he sees Alex shamelessly flirting with you expected to be tied to bed as fucks your brains out. If he sees Jackson touch you in a way thats reserved only for him you’re pinned against the wall.

There has been a couple of times Derek has walked in on you while you both are getting it on in one of the on-call rooms, it's safe to day Derek has lernd to knock.

“Mark, he literally saw it” you gasped from under mark.

He kissed your neck. “I was too busy to notice”

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.

#Mark Sloan headcanons #Mark Sloan x reader #Mark Sloan imagines #Greys anatomy #Mark Sloan smut #Smut headcanons #greys anatomy headcanons #For my pookie #Mark Sloan

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

Text

On school picture day, Steve always gets the kids ready. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t want to, it’s that he kind of hates making them dress up for a photo when 99% of the time, they’re just kids.

Except Steve had to go to a training conference for guidance counselors this week and picture day is happening whether they like it or not.

Their oldest, Jules, can do everything herself now. Prefers it, actually. She’s been extremely independent since she turned 10 a few months ago and neither of them try to stop her.

But their twins are only six, and James and Connor are like tornadoes who interrupted a category five hurricane and wore their most stained clothes while doing it.

“Let’s at least brush your hair,” Eddie suggested, already mentally preparing for the arguments that would cause. “Just for the picture and then you can mess it up however you want.”

“But daddy lets us wear it crazy!” Connor lies.

“And he lets us take off our shirts!” James lied even more.

“You guys don’t even know how to lie right,” Jules said as she finished braiding her own hair.

“We don’t lie!” They said in unison.

Eddie used to think the twins talking and doing things at the same time was just coincidence, but now he knows it has to be some kind of evolutionary benefit to outsmart the parents.

“Let’s call daddy then and ask,” Eddie said, immediately being met with silence. “Oh, can we not? If he lets you do that stuff, then it shouldn’t be a problem right?”

The twins shake their heads.

“Great!” Eddie pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and pretends to dial Steve. Steve’s not gonna answer, so he just sends a quick text to let him know it’s fine and to let it ring to voicemail. He holds the phone up to his ear as it rings twice and then goes to voicemail. “Hey sweetheart. You know how it’s picture day? Mhm. Well the twins told me you usually let them just go without brushing their hair or even wearing a shirt! I thought that sounded silly. So you don’t?”

“Wait! Okay we lied a little!” Connor yelled, suddenly panicking at being caught.

“And maybe a lot!” James added, already trying to climb Eddie’s side so he could reach for the phone.

“I’ll go get them ready, love you, bye!” Eddie rushed out and hung up so he could hold James safely. “I think you think I’m a fool.”

“No dad, you just let us be crazy,” James said.

“So does your daddy. Just not on picture day. You know the rules. We do this for him, right? We get nice and handsome and we smile for the camera so we can hang the pictures on the fridge.” Eddie glanced at last year’s school photos, resisting the urge to cry at how big they’d all gotten so quickly. James was missing three teeth now, Connor seemingly lost a ton of his baby fat early, and Jules had started wearing earrings. “He likes seeing your faces on the fridge.”

“But can’t we just wear our regular clothes?” Connor begged from his other side.

Eddie looked down at what they were wearing. It wasn’t that bad. No stains, at least. And no holes. That was rare for them.

“You can wear these clothes if you let me make your hair look nice,” Eddie bargained.

“Daddy’s gonna kill you,” Jules said with her arms crossed.

“He loves me too much. Plus who else would do the dishes every night? He can’t kill me!” Eddie joked, tickling James before setting him down on the floor. “To the bathroom, my princes! Make haste!”

They ran for the bathroom quickly, nearly tripping over each other in the process.

Eddie’s phone vibrated in his hand with a text from Steve that just said ‘if they don’t brush their hair for pictures, Santa won’t come.’

Eddie texted back quickly: so cruel. as his most sexiest elf, I wouldn’t pass over their house.

Steve sent a ‘🙄’ and then a ‘😘’.

Eddie pocketed his phone and went to help the boys with their hair.

When they got the pictures back a month later, Steve shook his head, but couldn’t quite hide the fond smile.

James and Connor both forgot to give normal smiles into the camera.

But their hair looked almost perfect.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #drabble #steddie dads

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fatecantstopme · 8 months

Text

Take Your Time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x wife!reader

Summary: What happens after you lose the love of your life?

Warnings: character death, a lot of talk about death, grieving, childbirth, single parenting, cursing, use of pet names, mentions of smut/implied smut.

A/N: This is insanely long and some parts are painfully sad, but it's a beautiful story of love and family that persists even beyond the grave. There's a lot of POV switching between Dean and reader. I hope you love it as much as I do.

“The two of you are like rabbits,” Sam groaned. “I swear you could hear it outside the bunker.”

Dean laughed heartily. “It’s not my fault she’s so damn hot.”

You blushed and buried your face in your hands. “Sorry, Sammy. We’ll try to keep it down.”

“I’ve lost the ability to pretend I didn’t hear you two.”

You laughed. “What can I say? He’s good at what he does.”

“Ughhhh,” Sam groaned as he left the kitchen.

You leaned into Dean with a smile. “Maybe we should try to keep it down, for Sam’s sake.”

Dean seemed to contemplate it for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, babe. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve some enjoyment—celebration, even. We beat Chuck, Jack’s in charge, there seems to be less monsters running around…and somehow we’re still alive to see it.”

“I suppose you’ve got a point.”

“Plus,” Dean leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “my wife is the sexiest woman on earth. How can I possibly resist the temptation?”

You laughed warmly and playfully smacked his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

He grinned. “But you love me.”

You smiled as you leaned up to kiss him. “Very much.”

**********

“It’s kinda nice to be on a regular old monster hunt,” Dean said with a smile.

“Is it weird that I’ve missed this?” you asked.

“Definitely not. I’ve missed it too,” Sam responded.

“Vampires,” Dean mumbled. “I do love killing vampires.”

You chuckled lightly and rolled your eyes.

The three of you grabbed your machetes and headed towards the barn. You knew this was where the vamps were bedding down, but you weren’t sure how many of them were there.

Dean shot you a grin before busting in the barn door, shocking several vampires into action. Dean let out a weird holler of excitement and dove into the fray. You and Sam exchanged glances before jumping in.

Everything was going well. It was a pretty easy hunt, to be honest. You’d just beheaded the last one when you heard Sam yell your name from behind you.

You could hear the terror in his voice and when you spun around, you came face to face with your greatest fear.

“Dean!” You screamed as you ran across the barn. You grabbed his face when you reached him, tears already streaming down both of your faces. “No…” you whispered.

He coughed and wheezed softly. You could see the piece of metal sticking out of his chest and you knew he was dying. You’d always known the life was dangerous—that any of you could die young, but things were finally good. You thought you’d actually get to grow old together.

Sam stood beside you, just as devastated as you were. “Dean, please…”

“It’s okay Sammy. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

You inhaled sharply, tears blurring your vision. “Please don’t go,” you begged. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so damn sorry,” he whispered. “But you’re gonna be okay—you’re gonna be fine.”

You shook your head rapidly.

“Yes you are, sweetheart. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re gonna mourn, but you’re gonna keep going. You’re not the kind of woman to ever give up, so don’t start now.”

You stared at him, letting his words wash over you, knowing they would be some of his last.

“Take care of each other,” Dean said to both of you.

“We will,” Sam responded, emotion clouding his voice.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

You whimpered softly before standing on your toes to kiss him gently. “I love you too, Dean. Always.”

He smiled, but you could see the light fading from his eyes. “One more thing, baby.”

“Yes?”

“‘Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it a while.’”

You let out a breathy chuckle. He would never admit it, but The Princess Bride was one of his favorite movies. He’d always loved that line in particular and he’d said it to you on your wedding day instead of “till death do us part”.

“Wait for me,” you whispered, caressing his cheek affectionately.

He reached out a hand and brushed the tears from your cheek. “Take your time,” he said so softly you almost didn’t hear.

You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes. You didn’t want to see the moment he died—you couldn’t bear it. When his hand slipped from your face and you heard Sam let out a pained sob, you knew he was gone.

You finally looked up, and the tears began to fall in earnest. You’d never felt a pain like this before—not even when he’d died in the past. This time was different. This time was final. Dean was dead—and a large piece of your heart went with him.

**********

Dean’s POV:

I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to get my bearings. I was surprised by how bright it was--I was pretty certain it had been night only moments ago.

"Hey Dean," a familiar voice said from behind me.

I spun around with a smile on my face and immediately embraced the man in front of me. "Bobby!"

Bobby returned my hug. "It's good to see you, kid."

Seeing Bobby made me realize where I was and the smiled slipped from my face.

He patted me gently on the shoulder. "Yeah, it's tough at first."

"(Y/N/N) and Sammy..." I whispered. "I left them."

Bobby nodded sadly. "I know, kid, I know. It's gonna hurt for a while, but they're both tough people. They'll be okay."

Tears blurred my vision at the thought of my wife and little brother mourning my death. I hated the idea of leaving them all alone, especially (Y/N). I knew Sammy would be okay--he always was. But (Y/N)? I'd made her a promise--I promised her forever. Then I went and got myself killed...leaving her to put the pieces of her life back together--a life we were supposed to share.

"I'm worried about (Y/N/N)," I whispered. "I can't stand the idea of her being alone. And the not knowing how she is? That might kill me--figuratively, I guess."

"I know the feeling, but I do have some good news for you. Things are obviously different up here, thanks entirely to Jack."

Bobby gestured to a building off in the distance and I realized it was the Roadhouse.

"A lot of us hang out here together--Ellen, Jo, Ash, Charlie, Pamela," Bobby said. "Also, we now have a new option--the ability to check in on the people we left behind. It's how I knew you'd be coming here."

"Wait--I can check in on (Y/N)? And Sam? Like I can see them?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, anytime you want. The only thing is, time moves differently up here, so you'll probably only catch glimpses of their lives over time."

"I'll take anything at this point. How do I do it?"

"You just picture the person clearly in your mind and you'll be able to see and hear what's happening in their lives at that moment. Plus, if they call out to you--like a prayer--you'll hear them."

"So all I have to do is picture (Y/N/N) and I'll see her?"

Bobby nodded. "Just remember, you're not gonna see the moment you left...it's probably been a couple weeks at this point."

I nodded. "I wanna see her."

Bobby patted my shoulder again. "Take your time. I'll be in the Roadhouse. Come on in when you're done--I'm sure there's a few people who wanna see you."

"Thanks, Bobby."

I watched him walk away for a few moments before taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. I pictured my wife's beautiful face in my mind with everything I had. Within moments, I was transported to a room I knew very well--our bedroom in the bunker.

(Y/N) was laying on our bed, wearing her favorite flannel of mine, and clutching a pillow close to her chest. I could tell she'd been crying for some time and it broke my heart.

There was a knock at the door and Sam's voice called out to her, asking if she was okay.

"I'm alright, Sammy," she answered softly.

"Do you want dinner?"

She sniffled softly. "I'm not really hungry, but thank you."

I heard Sam sigh quietly. "Okay, let me know if you change your mind."

I turned my attention back to (Y/N) just as she rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do this without you," she whispered. "I thought we'd have more time."

I could feel the tears stinging my own eyes as I watched her cry softly.

"You promised me, Dean. You promised me forever," she whimpered. "I shouldn't be angry with you--it's not like you left me on purpose. But I can't help it, Dean. I'm so angry, and bitter, and heartbroken, and so...alone."

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she finished talking, her words cutting into me like a knife.

"I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered, wishing like hell she could hear me. I just wanted to hold her in my arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. I needed everything to be okay--I needed her to be okay.

She sighed quietly, bringing my attention back to her. "I just love you so much, Dean, and I--I miss you." She inhaled deeply before continuing. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I want you to know I'll be okay. It'll take some time, and I'll never stop missing you, but I will be okay."

I didn't realize how badly I'd needed to hear her say those words. My heart still ached, but her words helped heal it just a little. "I love you so much, beautiful--always."

She smiled up at the ceiling as if she'd heard me, but I knew that was impossible. She pressed her hand to her lips and blew a kiss towards the ceiling.

I smiled as I blew one back. She'd always blown me kisses when I was alive and I was glad she was continuing the habit.

I watched her curl back up on her side and sigh softly as she pulled the pillow close to her. I stayed just long enough for her to fall asleep before closing my eyes and returning to heaven.

**********

"SAM!" you screamed loudly. "SAMMY!"

You heard his loud footsteps echoing down the bunker hallway as he raced towards you. He appeared in your doorway slightly out of breath and more than a little terrified.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked breathlessly.

Your hands were shaking as you held up the item in your hand.

Sam looked at it in confusion. As you watched, you saw the realization dawn on him and he gasped.

"Wait, (Y/N)--are you--are you pregnant?"

You nodded as tears ran down your cheeks. "This is the third one I've taken...they all came up positive."

"Oh my god," Sam mumbled. "You're gonna have a baby."

You stared at him in mild terror. "I'm gonna have a baby," you confirmed.

Sam stared at you, clearly unsure what he should do. After a few moments, he grabbed you and held you tightly. You leaned into his hug, more grateful than ever to have him in your life.

"We should take you to see a doctor. I'm sure Eileen would come too."

You nodded against his chest, the tears on your cheeks wiping off on his shirt.

"We're gonna help you, (Y/N). You won't be going through this alone. I promise."

You stepped back and offered him a small smile. "Thank you, Sammy."

**********

Dean's POV:

It had been a couple days since I'd last checked on (Y/N), so I decided to take a little time to myself to pay her a visit.

I closed my eyes, envisioning (Y/N/N)'s face clearly in my mind. When I opened my eyes again, I saw (Y/N) sitting in the bunker library, reading a book.

Her back was to me, so I moved closer to see over her shoulder, trying to see what she was reading. I expected it to be one of the novels she was always reading, but this appeared to be one of those self-help books. She wasn't the type of person to read self-help books, so I was pretty surprised.

Before I could move around to see her from the front, Sam came into the room carrying an absurd amount of food. I looked at the food on one of the plates and even I had to admit it looked gross. Some sort of burger, but with what appeared to be greek yogurt on it...and mustard?

Sam sat the plate down in front of (Y/N) and she clapped her hands in delight. "Looks delicious!"

Sam looked at her with a slightly grossed-out look on his face and chuckled lightly. "I felt disgusting making it and I don't think I can watch you eat it," he teased.

She laughed and took a big bite of the sandwich, a groan of pleasure slipping from her lips. "Oh my god, that's so good."

Sam laughed heartily. "These pregnancy cravings are nasty."

She giggled, but I missed her response because I was too focused on what Sam had just said...pregnancy cravings? I looked at the book (Y/N) had sat on the table beside her and saw the title "Parenting 101".

I finally got a good look at my wife and noticed her round belly and I nearly passed out--if I could even pass out. I thought I was about to hyperventilate and my shock must have pushed me out of my trance--sending me straight back to heaven.

I nearly ran--okay, I did run--all the way to the Roadhouse, bursting in the door, out of breath and panicky.

"Hey easy there, kiddo," Ellen said as she stepped forward to check on me.

"(Y/N)'s pregnant," I practically yelled, shocking every person in the room.

Bobby looked up at me from the beer he was drinking with a look of shock on his face. Ellen had been patting my back, but now she was frozen in place.

"Is it--I mean, could it be yours?" Ellen asked gently.

"I--I don't know," I mumbled. "I have no idea how long I've been dead."

"Ash!" Ellen yelled.

The man in question appeared almost instantly. "Yo!"

"How long has Dean been dead?"

"Uhhh...hold on." Ash started typing away on his laptop. Two minutes later he answered, "A little over six months."

Bobby had gotten up from his seat and came over to help Ellen escort me to a chair. "Have a seat, son. Just breathe."

"Looks like you're gonna be a father," Ellen said gently.

"I'm--how--I--" words were not coming to me easily. I didn't know how to feel or what to think--all I knew was my wife was pregnant and I wasn't there to support her.

The more I thought about it, the sadder I became. I wouldn't be there for the birth, wouldn't get to hold (Y/N)'s hand through it all...I would never meet my child. My wife was all alone, doomed to the life of a single parent all because I was careless enough to die too soon.

"At least she has Sam," I whispered lowly.

Ellen was rubbing comforting circles on my back and Bobby squeezed my shoulder.

"I need to talk to her," I said suddenly. "How can I talk to her?"

Bobby shook his head. "You can't, Dean. I'm sorry, but that's just not possible."

Tears stung my eyes and I stood up abruptly. "I think I just need to be alone," I mumbled.

I could feel several pairs of eyes on my back as I left the Roadhouse and began to mindlessly wander, unsure of where I was going, but certain there was a destination.

**********

"You can do it, (Y/N). Just breathe," Sam said calmly.

"You tell me to breathe one more time, Winchester, and I'll kill you," you hissed.

Eileen looked up at Sam with a small smirk. "I think she's serious," she said.

Sam quickly signed 'I'm just trying to help.'

Eileen chuckled. 'Why don't you go get something to eat. I think that would be helpful.'

You let out a groan of pain and Sam's eyes widened. "Okay...I'll go do that."

Eileen shook her head and moved forward to grab your hand. "Men," she mumbled.

You laughed lightly before another contraction hit you. "Fuck," you groaned.

The nurse gently patted your leg. "You're doing great, sweetheart. Just keep breathing."

You squeezed the hell out of Eileen's hand, which got her attention. "Labor is hell--don't have kids."

She laughed. "I'm sure Sam will want one or two, especially after meeting his niece."

"Adopt," you ground out as another contraction hit you.

She gently brushed the hair out of your eyes, wiping the sweat off your forehead in the same motion.

You were beyond grateful for the two of them, even if you couldn't express it in that moment.

"Dean, you son of a bitch," you growled. "This is all your fault!"

You didn't mean it of course, it was more a heat of the moment thing. You missed him terribly and the pain of his absence had never been greater.

**********

Dean's POV:

In the middle of my walk, I heard someone scream my name. I paused, listening for any other sound.

"This is all your fault!"

I knew immediately it was (Y/N)'s voice and I went to her without a second thought.

I was shocked to find myself standing in a hospital room, my beautiful wife lying on the bed, clearly in pain. I stepped farther into the room when I heard (Y/N/N) whimper softly. Eileen was on the other side of the bed, squeezing her hand and gently brushing her hair back to calm her.

I was desperate to grab her hand, to tell her everything would be okay. She wasn't wrong--I was the one who got her pregnant, but I couldn't be there to help her through the birth of our child. It broke my heart to see her in such pain, especially knowing there was nothing I could do about it.

"Okay, sweetheart, it's time to push again," the nurse said softly.

(Y/N) let out a low grunt of pain as she leaned forward to push with all her strength. Eileen continued holding her hand and I watched her face tighten in discomfort as (Y/N) squeezed it.

Even though I knew she couldn't hear me, I started talking to her. "I'm right here, baby," I said softly. "You're doing so well, sweetheart."

Sam suddenly came into the room, looking concerned, but also a little terrified. "How you doin' (Y/N/N)?"

She shot daggers at my little brother and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Obviously not great, Samuel," she growled.

Eileen chuckled and gestured to Sam to go back out in the hallway. "We'll call you in when the baby comes."

Given the fact that Sam's face was a little green, I had to agree it was best for him to be out in the hall.

My attention was drawn back to (Y/N) when she let out a soft cry of pain.

"You're doing so great, (Y/N)," the nurse said. "Keep pushing, honey."

She continued pushing and even though she was clearly in a lot of pain and discomfort, I couldn't help but think she was so beautiful and powerful in that moment. I'd never seen a stronger woman in all my life.

"She's crowning!" the doctor called. "Give me a really good push."

(Y/N) groaned in pain as she pushed, cutting the circulation off in Eileen's hand with the strength of her squeeze.

"That's it, one more!"

(Y/N) let out one more agonized groan before collapsing back against the mattress. As soon as she did, I heard the loud crying of a newborn baby--our newborn baby.

"You did so well, honey," the nurse said. "So, so, well. I'll clean her up and let you hold her, okay?"

(Y/N) nodded with a weak smile, eyes meeting Eileen's moist ones. 'You did amazing,' she signed.

"Thank you," (Y/N) whispered.

The nurse brought a little bundle over and handed it to my wife. "Here's your mama."

(Y/N)'s arms wrapped around the sweet bundle, holding her close to her chest. "Hi, little one," she murmured sweetly. "Welcome to the world."

I leaned over to get a good view of my daughter. "Good job, mama," I whispered.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered.

I couldn't help but agree, she was perfect.

"What are we gonna name this sweet girl?" the nurse asked.

(Y/N) looked up with tearful eyes. "Charlie," she answered. "Her name is Charlie."

Tears filled my eyes, emotion overwhelming me. (Y/N) had loved Charlie has much as I did, so I shouldn't have been surprised that she'd want to honor her memory like this.

"That's a lovely name. Do you want to give little Charlie a middle name?"

At that moment, Sam came back in the room, a teary smile warming his features. He entered the room fully and came to the side of the bed to get a better view of his niece.

(Y/N) looked up at him and smiled. "MaryEllen," she answered. "Charlie MaryEllen Winchester."

Sam choked back tears as he leaned forward to place a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead and then to Charlie's. "I think that's a perfect name."

She smiled. "Me too."

The nurse smiled as she wrote down the name on the form in her hands. "Okay, sweetie, did you want to put a name down for the father?"

(Y/N)'s face dropped slowly and it made my heart ache. "Yes. His name was Dean--Dean Winchester."

The nurse nodded and jotted it down on her form. "I'll go file this and be back in a few minutes."

Tears were streaming down (Y/N)'s cheeks as she stared at our little girl. "I wish Dean was here," she mumbled.

Sam and Eileen exchanged sad looks. "I know, (Y/N/N)," Sam said gently. "So do I."

"I'm right here, baby," I whispered. "I'm always right here."

"She's perfect, isn't she?" (Y/N) said softly, changing the subject.

"She really is," Eileen confirmed.

I wanted to stay, but I couldn't bear to see my daughter and not hold her. It was making my chest ache in an unimaginable way.

I was about to make my exit when (Y/N) cast a glance to the ceiling and whispered, "I love you, Dean." She blew me a kiss and I couldn't help but smile.

"I love you both, baby. So damn much," I murmured before closing my eyes and returning to heaven.

**********

"Do babies ever sleep?" you grumbled as you stumbled into the kitchen after a very long and sleepless night.

Sam looked up from his coffee with a small smile. "She will eventually," he answered. When you shot him a glare, he slid his coffee towards you. "You need this more than I do."

Your expression softened. "Thanks." You took a sip, sighing gratefully as you sat at the table.

"Eileen with Charlie?"

You nodded. "She's so good with her."

Sam smiled. "I know."

You took a deep breath before saying something you'd been thinking for a while. "I think it's time for me to move out."

"What?" Sam asked in shock.

"The bunker's no place to raise a baby, Sam. I think it's time I find somewhere else to live."

He looked sad, but he nodded his head in understanding. "As much as I hate for you to leave, I understand why you need to."

You smiled tearfully. "Everywhere I look, I see Dean. His memory is infused in these walls and I love it, but it hurts--it hurts in a way I can't explain. Charlie and I need a fresh start--a real home."

Sam got up and gave you a warm hug. "Just don't go too far, okay? We need you both in our lives."

"I actually talked to Donna last week...she asked me to move in with her."

"That would be great! I'd feel better if you weren't alone, so I love the idea of you staying with Donna."

"It would just be for a little while, until I figure out what we should do for our future."

"You know I'll support you, (Y/N), in whatever you choose to do."

"I know, Sammy. You're the best uncle Charlie could ever have."

**********

Dean's POV:

When I arrived back in heaven, I found myself in a place I didn't recognize. I guess I'd kept walking mindlessly while I was checking in on (Y/N)...if that's even possible.

"Hello Dean," a familiar voice said behind me.

I turned around in surprise. "Jack?"

Jack smiled at me. "It's good to see you, Dean."

I returned the smile. "It's good to see you too."

"I heard you wanted to talk to me."

"I...I did?"

"Rather, you wanted to talk to (Y/N), which is something you would need to discuss with me."

"Bobby said it's not possible."

"He's correct. That's not something that has ever been done, but I suppose this is a special circumstance."

"It is?"

"You've saved the world selflessly so many times it's truly hard to keep track. Both (Y/N) and your brother have done so as well. As such, I believe you are owed something in return."

"I thought my reward was getting into heaven."

Jack smiled. "Perhaps initially, but this would be a reward specifically from me."

"Are you saying I could talk to (Y/N)? I mean, really talk to her?"

Jack nodded. "It would be a one-time thing, but it would allow you to properly say goodbye to her--and to Sam. Plus, I think you deserve the opportunity to meet your daughter."

"How long would I have?"

"I can give you an hour."

I nodded eagerly. "Please."

Jack smiled and reached out his hand, putting two fingers to my forehead.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in a very familiar place. I looked around the bedroom (Y/N) and I had shared in the years since we'd discovered the bunker and I couldn't help but smile.

(Y/N) was curled up on the bed, reading a book, and she hadn't noticed me yet. I cleared my throat, getting her attention, and nearly ended up with a knife embedded in my chest as she threw it across the room with shocking accuracy.

"Woah! Baby, take it easy! It's me!"

She grabbed another knife from the bedside table and held it out in front of her. "Who the hell are you?" she growled.

"It's me, sweetheart."

"That's impossible. We burned your body."

"I know you did--listen, baby, I don't have much time. Jack sent me."

She paused, knife lowering slightly. "Jack sent you?"

I nodded. "Run whatever tests you need, babe, but it's me. It's really me."

She took a step towards me, then moved with surprising speed, tossing holy water at my face and pressing the silver knife against my skin.

"Dean?" she whimpered softly, dropping the knife to the floor.

"It's me, beautiful."

She said my name again before slamming her lips against mine in a hungry kiss. I kissed her back and my arms wrapped around her to pull her closer. I couldn't even express how much I'd missed this feeling.

When she broke the kiss, I saw tears in her eyes and I knew the look on her face was reflected on mine.

"I missed you so much," she whispered.

"I missed you too."

"How is this possible?"

"Jack sent me down here to say a proper goodbye--he said I deserved it."

She smiled and caressed my face. "How long do we have?"

"He gave me an hour."

She nodded. "Then we have no time to waste."

She pulled me even closer to her, kissing me with more passion than before. I knew what she wanted by the way she held me, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it just as much.

I pulled her down onto the bed with me, ridding both of us of our clothes as quickly as possible. I held her close to me as we made love, not wanting to forget a single moment.

She whispered my name against my skin as she came around me, repeating the sound as she came down from her high. She held me tightly as I found my release, my teeth nipping at her pulse point to stay quiet.

We laid there quietly in each other's arms for a few minutes, but we both knew we didn't have a lot of time. I sighed softly as I dragged myself out of the bed to grab a washcloth to clean her up before we tugged our clothes back on.

Suddenly, (Y/N) seemed to realize something and yelled, "Oh my god! Oh my god, you don't know."

"Know what, sweetheart?"

"I--you--we...do you wanna meet your daughter?" she whispered.

I smiled warmly. "Little Charlie? I'd love to meet her."

Surprise lit up her pretty face. "You--you know?"

"Another gift from Jack--everyone in heaven is able to check in on the people they love down here. So I've been keeping an eye on you and Sam."

Tears filled her eyes again, and she couldn't formulate a verbal response. Instead she wrapped me in another hug and placed a soft kiss to my lips.

"I hear you when you talk to me too, ya know."

"You do?"

"I do. Anytime you call out to me, I can hear it."

She smiled warmly. "You have no idea how happy that makes me, Dean."

"I can tell you it makes me incredibly happy."

She took a deep breath and shook her head, as if to shake off the intense emotions she was feeling. She turned away from me, walking over to the crib behind her. She reached in and scooped up our daughter before walking over to me.

"Do you wanna hold her, baby?"

I nodded, emotion clouding my vision. "I'd love to."

She slipped Charlie into my arms and I fell in love instantly. I didn't know I could feel this way about someone. I held my baby girl close to my chest and stared at her beautiful, peaceful sleeping face.

"She's so perfect, (Y/N/N)."

"She really is," she whispered as she leaned against my shoulder. "I'm so happy to get to have this moment with you."

I looked over at her with a soft smile. "Me too, sweetheart."

Charlie opened her eyes at the sound of our voices and made a cute little cooing sound that warmed my heart instantly. She reached one of her little hands up towards my face and I moved my hand towards her. She wrapped her fingers around one of mine and cooed again.

"Hi, princess," I whispered. "Aren't you just the most beautiful girl?"

(Y/N/N) chuckled softly and kissed my shoulder.

"You're gonna look just like your mama. I can tell. Hopefully you get her brain too."

"And your daddy's bravery and loyalty."

I smiled at her and she returned my expression. "Oh and her name? Perfect."

"You like it?"

"Yeah, baby. I love it."

"I wanted to honor your best friend and the two women who helped make you the incredible man you are."

I leaned down to her and kissed her again. "I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Dean."

We spent several more minutes in silence together, just looking at our beautiful baby--the baby we created together.

"We should go wake Sam," (Y/N) said softly.

"He'd kill me if I didn't see him too."

"He might kill me too," she teased.

She went to the door and gestured for me to follow. I followed her down the hall to Sam's room and waited as she knocked.

"(Y/N/N)? You okay?" Sam asked as he opened the door.

"I have a surprise." She stepped to the side to allow me to come into the doorway.

Sam's jaw dropped in shock. (Y/N) reached out and pulled Charlie from my arms and addressed Sam. "It's really him, Sammy."

"Dean?"

I nodded and my little brother practically tackled me in a hug.

(Y/N) smiled at the scene in front of her. She'd never expected to get another chance to say goodbye to me and she knew Sam needed this as much as she did.

"How are you here?" Sam asked as he finally let me go.

"A little favor from Jack--just for an hour. I'm here to say goodbye properly and to meet my baby girl."

Sam seemed to remember (Y/N) and Charlie's presence and he turned his attention to them. "I don't know what to say."

"I don't think any of us do," she said gently.

"That's not entirely accurate," I said softly. "I'd been thinking about what I would say if I could talk to you both."

I turned my attention to Sam first. "Sammy, I just want you to be happy. I want you to live a good, full life--the kind of life you always dreamed of. You deserve to be happy and I really couldn't ask for anything more than that."

As I finished addressing Sam, I heard Jack's voice from behind me. "Dean? It's time."

I turned to him and pleaded softly, "Just a couple more minutes to say goodbye to (Y/N)...please."

Jack nodded and took a step back to allow me to finish.

"Dean?" (Y/N) whispered.

"Your turn," I said gently as I reached for Charlie, pulling her into my arms with a smile. "Now you better be a good girl, you hear me? You treat your mama with honor and respect. You have no idea how lucky you are to have her as your mother, but I hope someday you realize it...and I hope you know just how much I love you. I'll always watch over you, little one. I promise." I placed a gentle kiss to her little forehead and she stirred happily. "Sammy, can you hold your niece for me?"

Sam nodded and took Charlie from my arms, too emotional to say anything else. He just clapped me on the shoulder and nodded--it was all I needed to understand what he couldn't say.

"Your turn, baby," I whispered as I took a step towards my wife.

"I'm not ready," she whimpered.

"Me neither, sweetheart, but here it goes." I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close to me. She looked up at me with teary eyes and I took a deep breath before continuing. "You are the light of my life and I am so honored to have been loved by you all these years. I would do anything to be able to stay with you, but we both know that's not in the cards for us. That doesn't mean I won't be with you...I'll always be with you, sweetheart, even if it's only in your memories and your heart."

She sniffled and tried to smile a little. I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before continuing.

"I want you to keep living, (Y/N). I need you to keep going--to fight for the life you and our daughter deserve. I'm so proud of everything you and I have accomplished together and I can't wait to see what amazing things you do with the rest of your life. I love you, baby, and I'll never stop."

She closed her eyes and nodded, tears slipping past her lids. She opened them back up and stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to mine. "I'll love you forever, Dean Winchester," she whispered against my lips.

I kissed her deeply, pouring everything I had into the kiss. I needed her to know exactly how much I loved her and how badly I would miss her.

After what felt like both eternity and not nearly long enough, we separated. "I've gotta go, beautiful," I whispered.

"I know," she whispered back.

I kissed her lips again, then her forehead, before pulling away from her. I smiled at my brother, who returned the expression in kind. I touched my daughter's cheek and turned away before I lost the nerve to walk to Jack's side.

"Jack?" (Y/N) called.

Jack's attention went to her and he smiled gently.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, (Y/N)."

"Keep him out of trouble," she said lightly with a small smile.

Jack chuckled softly. "I don't think even I can do that."

I turned back to look at my family one last time and I couldn't help but go back to give (Y/N) one last kiss. "Goodbye my love," I murmured.

"I'll see you later, Dean," she said gently. "This isn't forever."

I held her close and kissed the top of her head. "Take your time, baby. Take your time."

I pulled away from her and walked away, refusing to look back--knowing if I did, it would break my heart. I looked at Jack and said softly, "I'm ready."

He nodded and touched my forehead just as he had before. When I opened my eyes again, I couldn't help but smile as I stood outside of the Roadhouse. I knew I would never be whole as long as (Y/N) and I were apart, but I felt so much better knowing she was safe, happy, and loved...that she would never give up, that she would keep living.

**********

Almost three years had passed since you'd said goodbye to Dean. It had been an eventful time--and a deeply emotional three years. You couldn't begin to express how much you missed him, but it comforted you to know he was okay and could check in on you whenever he liked.

You'd moved into Donna's house and you would be forever grateful for her compassion, kindness, and friendship--and for her help with Charlie. Raising a child on your own wasn't easy, but you were blessed with a chosen family who would never let you down.

On this particular night, you were curled up in bed, staring at the ceiling as you so often did. You spoke to Dean, telling him how much you missed him and updating him on Charlie's life.

"I can't believe she's already three," you murmured. "She has your eyes, you know--the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen."

You sighed. "There are moments...moments when she looks up at me and I swear I'm looking into your eyes. I just have this feeling she's going to be so much like you, even if she looks more like me."

You chuckled before continuing. "I hope she's strong and brave like you, and also kind and loyal like you. I hope she loves as passionately as you did and I hope she never has to wonder her worth--or how much we love her."

You'd just finished speaking when you heard a soft whimper at your door a second before it opened. Charlie stepped through it, eyes teary.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?"

"I had a bad dream," she whispered.

You pulled the blankets back and invited her into your bed. The little girl curled up against you with her head on your shoulder. You rubbed her back soothingly and asked her what she'd dreamed about.

"A monster," she whispered fearfully.

**********

Dean's POV:

I'd been listening to (Y/N) talk to me when Charlie suddenly appeared in the room, telling her mother she'd had a nightmare. I watched as (Y/N) invited her to come sleep in her bed and ask her what she'd dreamed about.

"A monster," she'd whispered.

"A monster?" (Y/N) asked. "What kind of monster, baby?"

"He was big and hairy and he had claws and red eyes and he was really scary," Charlie rambled. "He came out of my closet and tried to hurt me."

I watched (Y/N) pull her a little closer, holding her tighter than before. She kissed the top of Charlie's head and promised her she was safe.

"No monster is going to hurt you, little one," she reassured our daughter. "Do you know why?"

Charlie looked up at her, bright green eyes filled with fear as she shook her head.

(Y/N) smiled at her warmly. "Because you're a Winchester. And do you know what monsters fear the most, sweetheart?"

Charlie again shook her head.

"Winchesters," (Y/N) whispered. "Your daddy and your Uncle Sammy made sure of that. No monster would dare try to hurt you."

"Really?" she asked in a small voice.

"Really," (Y/N) confirmed. "Besides, I'm here to protect you and so is your Aunt Donna. I will always keep you safe, Charlie. Always."

Charlie seemed pleased by this, a little smile appearing on her face. "You promise?"

(Y/N) smiled and kissed her on the head. "I promise, little one."

Charlie nestled in closer to her mother and sighed contentedly. (Y/N) stroked her hair and began to sing softly, the sound more soothing than anything she'd said thus far.

I watched my beautiful wife comforting our daughter in a way my father had never comforted us when we were afraid. (Y/N) made Charlie feel safe and protected and I knew she would defend her with her life--just as I would have done.

I stayed long enough to hear (Y/N) sing all the words to 'Let It Be', her favorite Beatles song. It reminded me of when I was young and my mother sang her favorite, 'Hey Jude'.

I wished I was there for them both--to comfort and protect the way a father and a husband should. But I knew the people I had left behind would always be there for my girls, and that had to be enough.

By the time (Y/N) finished singing, Charlie had fallen asleep. She looked so peaceful it warmed my heart. (Y/N) smiled up at the ceiling and blew a kiss my way--her way of closing the conversation.

I returned to heaven, pleased with the knowledge the people I loved most were safe and happy. I couldn't ask for anything more.

**********

"Charlie MaryEllen Winchester!" you yelled as your daughter ran across the backyard of Sam and Eileen's house.

You heard her contagious giggle and you shook your head. "This child..." you mumbled as Sam came up beside you.

"She's a lot like her dad."

"So is yours," you teased as you nodded towards little Dean as he chased Charlie throughout the yard.

"I feel like naming him after Dean should have been a warning."

You laughed. "He's got great parents, so I wouldn't worry about him."

Sam slung an arm around you and tugged you into his side. "Charlie's got a pretty great mom too."

You smiled up at him and laid your head against him. "I can't believe she's six."

"Neither can I," Sam admitted. "And Dean's three? When the hell did that happen?"

"No idea."

"Kids!" Eileen called from the doorway. "Dinner!" The kids ran into the house and Eileen gestured at the two of you. "That means you too!"

You laughed. "How does she put up with us?"

"She's a saint."

"Amen."

After dinner, the five of you gathered in the living room to play board games. Halfway through a game of Monopoly, Charlie looked up at you and asked for a story.

"You always tell the best stories, mama."

You smiled. "Okay, munchkin. What kind of story do you want?"

"Can you tell one about daddy?"

Emotion clouded your face for a moment before you smiled at your daughter again. You looked into her beautiful green eyes and hummed softly. "I think I can come up with something."

"So does that mean we're done with Monopoly?" Sam asked hopefully.

"I think so," you chuckled.

"Thank god." He turned to little Dean. "Auntie (Y/N) is gonna tell a story about your Uncle Dean."

"Uncie Dean!" he squealed happily.

You laughed warmly and gestured for both kids to come sit in front of you. You closed your eyes for a moment, mentally calling out to your husband in the hopes he would check in and see this moment.

"How 'bout the time daddy gave me an impromptu birthday party?"

Sam laughed loudly. "I love that story."

You smiled. "Me too." Your expression changed as you reminisced, but the warmth never left your eyes.

"It was my 25th birthday and your daddy wanted to celebrate what he deemed was a big milestone..."

**********

Dean's POV:

I heard (Y/N) call my name, so I told Charlie, Jo, and Pamela that I had to forfeit our game of pool. "It's (Y/N/N)," I said with a shrug.

"Awww," all three of them said in a teasing tone.

I waved them off as I went outside to visit my wife. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the whole family sitting in Sam and Eileen's living room.

My daughter and my nephew were sitting on the floor watching (Y/N) with wide eyes. Even Sam and Eileen were paying close attention. (Y/N) appeared to be telling some kind of story and she was signing it as well to make sure Eileen could keep up.

I entered the room fully and heard (Y/N) telling a story--a story about me.

"We weren't exactly big on celebrating birthdays in our line of work, but Dean got it into his head that today was important and needed to be celebrated. I have no idea what the heck he was thinking, since we were living out of motels at the time, but he decided he wanted to have a birthday party for me."

"He didn't say a word to me about it," she continued, "but he did tell his brother." She threw a pointed look in Sam's direction and he shrugged innocently. "We had just started dating...I think it had only been a few months, actually."

"It was six months," Sam cut in at the same time I whispered, "Six."

(Y/N) laughed. "Okay, six months. Anyway, we didn't have any cases on the horizon--no where else we needed to be, so your father thought it would be a good idea to have a celebration. He bought a cake, balloons, streamers--the whole nine yards."

"He sent the two of us out to pick up dinner so he could decorate the little motel room," Sam added.

"When we returned, the entire room was covered in decorations and he was standing in the middle of the room holding a bundle of lilies--my favorite flower."

She sighed happily at the memory and I had a feeling she could picture it as well as I could.

"He even said 'surprise!' when we came into the room. I remember it being a really heartwarming moment for me. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd celebrated a birthday and here was this man I'd only been with for a short time going all out to celebrate me."

"Your's was the only birthday I can remember him making a fuss over," Sam commented. "That's when I knew how much he cared about you."

She chuckled lightly. "Oddly enough, I still wasn't sure why he'd picked me, and I had no clue how deeply he cared for me...but I can pinpoint the exact moment I knew I loved him."

Both kids leaned forward, especially Charlie, who seemed to be hanging on to her mother's every word. Even Sam looked like he was unaware of this part of the story.

"We'd had dinner, and Dean forced Sam to sing me happy birthday--which was hilarious, I might add--and then he brought out the cake. It wasn't a store-bought cake like I'd expected. It was a homemade cake--yellow cake with chocolate icing, my absolute favorite. I was beyond shocked, especially since we didn't have an oven."

She grinned as she continued. "When I asked him where he got it, he admitted that the day before he'd gone to the store to get the supplies he needed and then he uh--well, he broke into a bakery to use their oven to bake me a cake for my birthday. It was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for me...and silly as it might sound, that was the exact moment I knew I was in love with him."

"Daddy broke into a bakery?" Charlie asked.

(Y/N) laughed. "Yes, he did, but it was a special circumstance. Don't commit crimes, kids."

Sam laughed and I could tell he was thinking about all the illegal shit we'd done in our lives--all kinds of things we wouldn't want either of our children to do.

"I want someone to break into a bakery to make me a cake," my daughter mumbled.

All the adults in the room laughed, myself included.

"Baby, I'd break into a bakery for you any day," (Y/N) teased warmly. She reached out and scooped Charlie up and pulled her onto her lap. She squeezed her tightly before tickling her stomach lightly to emphasize her words.

I watched the sweet moment for a little while longer before the ache of not being with them became unbearable. I blew my wife a kiss I knew she couldn't see and one for my daughter as well. "I love you both," I whispered before returning to my rightful place.

**********

"Moooooom!" Charlie moaned. "It's Sunday! You can't do things on Sunday."

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "You wouldn't have to do anything today if you'd done your homework yesterday, like I told you to."

She grumbled and sighed. "I hate homework."

"You sound like your dad," you teased lightly.

Charlie seemed to brighten at the comment, as she often did when she was compared to her dad. "Can't we do our Sunday dance party first?" she pleaded.

You sighed, giving her a look you'd often used on Dean. It clearly said 'You aggravate the hell out of me, but I love you endlessly'. Charlie knew what it meant as well as Dean had, so she knew she'd won.

"Fine," you mumbled, throwing your hands up.

"I'll pick the first song!" Charlie yelled as she jumped out of her chair and ran towards the stereo.

You'd bought an old stereo that could play cassette tapes as a kind of homage to Dean. After all, you had all of the albums he'd loved on cassette.

"This one!" Charlie exclaimed, pressing play on the machine.

The intro to 'You Shook Me All Night Long' by AC/DC started playing and you couldn't help but laugh. It was probably your fault she loved classic rock so much, but she really seemed to thrive on it the same way Dean had.

You watched your daughter start dancing around the living room to one of her favorite songs. At nine years old, she had no idea what the song was really about--but she sang those lyrics with all her might.

She grabbed your hand and dragged you into the dance with her. The two of you danced around the living room, singing along to song after song until you were both out of breath.

You'd started 'Sunday Dance Party' back when Charlie was just a baby. You'd dance around with her in your arms, singing along to songs that spoke to your soul--and songs Dean had loved with all his heart. The tradition had continued on for nine years now--and you hoped it would never end.

"Okay," you gasped breathlessly as the last song came to an end. "How 'bout a slower song to wind down?

Charlie nodded her agreement and started digging through the albums. "Mom, where's the Bob Seger one?"

Your heart clenched for a moment, remembering how you'd taken the album to your room to listen to it when you were having a particularly rough night. "One sec, baby. Let me grab it."

You went to your room and retrieved the tape, delivering it to your daughter who looked confused.

"Why was it in your room?"

"I wanted to listen to it earlier this week. It's--well it's a special album."

Charlie looked at you quizzically.

"It was one of your dad's favorites. He always said Bob Seger was the greatest lyricist of all time..." You closed your eyes, picturing Dean's face as he sang along to 'Night Moves'. "I can still hear him singing along."

Charlie looked sad and she reached out to grab your hand. "Do you wanna listen to someone else?"

You smiled and wiped the stray tear that had fallen on your cheek. "No, baby. Pick a Bob Seger song."

Charlie gave you a lopsided smile that so resembled one of Dean's and your heart tightened. She selected a song and to your surprise, Dean's favorite Bob Seger song started to play.

"Night Moves," you whispered.

"I really like this one," Charlie admitted.

You took her hands and started to sway to the music. "It was your dad's favorite."

Charlie beamed at that--clearly pleased with the correlation. It was another song she knew every word to, but had no idea what it was about. It made you smile, hearing her sing along.

When the song came to an end, Charlie looked up at you. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

"What was dad's all-time favorite song?"

You exhaled slowly as you thought about it. "He had two--'Ramble On' and 'Traveling Riverside Blue'."

"Led Zeppelin."

You grinned. "Very good. Your dad would be proud."

She smiled. "What's yours?"

Your expression changed, the smile falling from your face. "If you'd asked me before I met your dad, my answer would have been different. But now? It's an REO Speedwagon song from the '80s. It's called 'Can't Fight This Feeling'."

"I...I don't think I know that one."

"That's probably because I haven't played it in a very long time--you were probably four the last time I listened to it."

"Why?"

"It was too hard to listen to it," you admitted. "The night Dean--your dad--asked me out, we went to a karaoke bar. He decided he wanted to sing a song and he chose 'Can't Fight This Feeling'. He dedicated it to me and it became our song. When he asked me to marry him, that song was playing in the background and it was the song we danced to at our wedding."

"So it reminds you of dad."

You nodded. "More than any other song ever could."

"Could we...could we listen to it?" she asked softly. A pained expression crossed your face and she immediately backtracked. "We don't have to."

"No, no, it's okay. We can listen to it. It's probably way past time I listen to it again."

You went into your room and dug out the old REO Speedwagon album, bringing it out to the living room and placing it in the cassette player. You pressed play and as the intro started, your chest tightened again.

Charlie listened intently as the song played and you swayed along to it, the lyrics slipping from your lips softly. For a moment, you swore you could feel Dean standing behind you with his arms wrapped around you, swaying with you. You closed your eyes and heard his voice in your mind, singing softly just for you to hear.

**********

"What am I supposed to do with her?" you grumbled, head in your hands as you sat across the table from Jody.

Your friend laughed softly. "She's a teenager now, (Y/N). She's probably gonna be a bit of a pain in the ass for a while."

You groaned. "You raised teenage girls. How did you do it?"

Jody smiled. "It wasn't easy, let me tell you, but my girls are good girls now and I'm thankful for it. It's probably gonna be a little harder for you, though--Charlie takes after her father in a lot of ways."

"Oh you mean like his stubborn, pig-headedness? Or his sarcasm and biting humor?"

Jody laughed. "Yeah all of that is true--but she also takes after him in a lot of the good ways too. She's just as deeply emotional as him, but she doesn't know how to express it or understand it yet."

You sighed. "You're not wrong. Dean never really learned how to express it, but he didn't exactly have a normal childhood. I'm just hoping I can help her--that is if I don't kill her for mouthing off all the damn time."

**********

Dean's POV:

I was surprised to see (Y/N) sitting at Jody's dining table, the older woman sitting across from her. (Y/N) looked stressed and I felt the strong urge to comfort her, even though I knew I couldn't.

"You're not gonna kill her," Jody assured my wife.

"I just might if she tells me I'm ruining her life one more time."

"Uh-oh. I've heard that one before. What's she think you're doing?"

"I told her she can't hunt."

"Well yeah, she's 13."

(Y/N) shook her head. "Ever. I told her she could never hunt."

Jody looked sad, but unsurprised. "Ahh..and she didn't take that well."

"No," (Y/N) said firmly. "No, she did not."

I was more than a little surprised (Y/N) had told Charlie she couldn't hunt. I mean, I didn't want her to hunt either, but it wasn't like (Y/N) to try and make life decisions for someone else.

"Did you tell her why?" Jody asked.

"I tried, but she was too angry to hear me," (Y/N) whispered. "I can't lose her, Jody--she's all I have."

Jody reached out and squeezed her hand. "She's not all you have, honey, but I get what you're saying. She's your daughter and you don't want that life for her."

"She's all I have left of Dean," she whispered so softly, Jody had to lean in to hear her.

"Oh honey," Jody said gently as she got up to give my wife a hug. She cried into Jody's shoulder and I suddenly felt like I was intruding on a very private moment I wasn't meant to see. I was about to go back to heaven when I heard (Y/N) speak again.

"Do you think I should tell her everything?"

Jody sighed as she thought about it. "Do you think she's ready to know the truth?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted. "But I can't help but feel that if she only knew, she wouldn't want that life for herself...and maybe she would understand why I don't either."

I wasn't entirely sure what (Y/N) was referring to. I assumed she meant the general horror that was our lives--and all the pain and loss that went with it.

"Talk to Sam," Jody suggested. "See what he thinks."

(Y/N) nodded her agreement and I decided to stay with her until she spoke to Sam...I had a feeling I would want to know what happened next.

**********

"Hey Sammy," you said softly as he opened the door.

"Here to get Charlie?" he asked.

You nodded, but grabbed his arm to keep him from turning around to get her. "I...I wanted to talk to you first."

"Sure, (Y/N/N). You okay?"

You shook your head. "Did she mention how much she hates me?"

Sam sighed and guided you to his office, just off the front door. "She mentioned something about it, yeah."

"I told her she couldn't be a hunter."

"I'm surprised she'd even want to be, given how much death and pain it caused all of us."

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

Sam raised his eyebrows, but remained quiet, waiting for you to continue.

"I didn't tell her the whole story," you admitted. "About Dean's death."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't want her to know how awful it really was, so I told her he died instantly--painlessly."

Sam sighed softly. "(Y/N)..."

"I know! I know...I shouldn't have lied to her. But the truth is so much worse and I didn't want those images in her mind. I didn't want her to know how he suffered, how we watched him die knowing we couldn't save him."

A soft gasp behind you alerted you to the presence of another person. You spun around just in time to see your daughter peeking around the corner, a look of horror on her face. As soon as you made eye contact, Charlie raced away from you, running up the stairs and locking herself in the guest bedroom.

"Charlie!" you called as you ran after her, Sam close on your heels.

You knocked on the door and begged her to open it--to let you explain, but she refused.

"Baby, please just open the door," you begged.

Sam touched your arm and gestured something you didn't quite understand. He repeated the gesture and a look of comprehension spread across your face. You nodded and he left quickly to grab what he needed.

When he returned, he had his lock picking tools in his hand and he began to pick the bedroom door lock. When it clicked, signaling it was now unlocked, he stepped back and allowed you to enter.

**********

Dean's POV:

I was shocked by the events that had led to this moment, but at the same time, I didn't really blame my wife for lying to Charlie. In all honesty, I had done the same thing about a million times in my life--all under the guise of protection.

As (Y/N) stepped into the room, I followed her, eyes darting around the space, trying to find my daughter. I finally noticed her, curled up on the floor on the other side of the bed, back against the wall and knees pulled up to her chest.

(Y/N) clearly saw her too because she made her way over there, dropping to her knees in front of Charlie. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she whispered.

"You lied to me," Charlie seethed.

I saw (Y/N)'s eyes flutter closed for a moment, tears beginning to form. "You're right," she admitted softly. "I lied to you. Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I can't change it. If you'll let me, I'd like to explain why...and tell you the truth."

"How do I know you won't lie again?"

"I guess you'll just have to trust me."

Charlie finally made eye contact with her mother and my heart nearly broke at the hurt look on her face. She'd been crying pretty hard and her eyes were red and puffy. She looked conflicted, but finally reached out a hand and her mother grabbed it, pulling her to her feet.

(Y/N) and Charlie sat on the bed in silence for a moment before (Y/N) began to speak. "When you were little and you'd ask me where your dad was, it always hurt me to answer you. When you were born, I was still in mourning, and I never really dealt with his death until you were a few months old."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "Our lives were complicated in a way I could never fully describe to you. Your father always believed he would die young--I was just too naive to agree. His death broke me in ways I'm embarrassed to admit. He was my everything, Charlie, and for a while, I wished I could trade places with him."

She sighed, tears falling freely now. "But then I found out I was pregnant and I had to shift my whole mindset. My life became about taking care of you--protecting you--and nothing else mattered. I may not have always gone about it in the right way, but I never intended to hurt you."

Charlie sniffled a little and turned to face (Y/N) as she continued talking.

"The things this family has done--the lives we've saved, has earned us a bit of special treatment. I know I've told you a lot of things about monsters and demons and angels--all of those things were true. Heaven and Hell really do exist, and your dad really is in heaven."

She closed her eyes, thinking back to many years prior. "When you were a baby, your dad was given a gift by god. He was able to return to earth for one short hour to say goodbye to me and Uncle Sammy--and to meet you."

Charlie's eyes widened in shock. "He met me?"

(Y/N) nodded. "Yeah, baby, he did. He held you in his arms and told you how perfect you were--and how he wanted your life to be beautiful and amazing; sentiments I also share. It wasn't until that moment I really started to heal--to properly grieve."

"But what about his death?" Charlie whispered. "I heard you say it was awful and he suffered."

I watched agony flash across my wife's face and I wanted so badly to hold her--to take away the pain. Just like I wanted to shield Charlie from the memory (Y/N) was about to share.

"We've lost a lot of people in this life, Charlie. More people than I'd care to admit. The three incredible women you're named after all died as a direct result of hunting--of the life we chose. There were so many others that we loved deeply and lost painfully. Your dad was no different."

"The main parts of the story are true. We were hunting vampires--me, your dad, and your Uncle Sam. Everything seemed fine...it was a shocking cut and dry, easy hunt, but it turned into the worst night of my life. I heard your uncle scream my name and I just knew...I almost didn't turn around."

She sniffed softly and exhaled shakily. The painful memory was not one she had ever wanted to relive. "Your dad had been thrown by a vampire, like so many times before. I didn't even think anything of it, but when I turned around, I saw--" she cleared her throat, "I saw his feet dangling slightly, up against a post, with a piece of metal sticking out of his chest."

Charlie gasped and renewed tears sprang from her eyes.

(Y/N) didn't stop...once she'd begun, she couldn't stop. "I knew without him saying a word that he was dying--this was it. Your uncle and I had to stand there and watch him slowly fade away. I heard him take his last breath, taking a piece of my soul with him. It was hell, Charlie."

Charlie was crying harder as her mother turned to her, her own tears staining her cheeks. (Y/N) reached for her and Charlie dove into the comfort of her arms.

"I'm sorry, mama," she cried.

(Y/N) tightened her grip. "It's alright baby."

The two stayed like that for a long time, not separating until their tears had dried.

When Charlie sat up and wiped her face, she seemed almost sheepish.

(Y/N) turned to her with a sad smile. "So you see, that's why I don't want you to be a hunter. It's not that I think you couldn't do it or a desire to control you--I just don't wanna lose you."

Charlie nodded. "I'm sorry I freaked out on you," she whispered.

"It's okay, baby. I'm not mad."

I couldn't even begin to express the various emotions I was feeling in that moment. I was proud of my wife and heartbroken for her and Charlie. I missed them both terribly and I knew they felt the same. The ache in my chest was a constant reminder of the distance between us--and I didn't know if I could take much more of it.

********

"Well, baby," you said, looking at the ceiling. "Our little girl turns 16 today...and it scares the hell out of me."

You sighed and dragged yourself out of bed, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

"She's got a boyfriend, you know," you continued. "I think I scared him a little bit when he came over last weekend to meet me. You'd be proud."

You brushed your teeth, humming quietly as you did.

"His name is Zack--he seems nice enough. I'm not too worried about her. She's a tough girl and knows how to fight, thanks to her mama."

You sighed as you ran a brush through your hair.

"I just can't believe she's two years away from adulthood. It blows my mind," you admitted softly. "It's days like today that I miss you more than ever. I wish you were here Dean, and I love so much."

You blew a kiss towards the ceiling before finishing getting ready.

When you went downstairs, Charlie was already at the table eating a bowl of cereal.

"My, my, you're up early," you teased.

"It's not every day a girl turns 16, mom," she teased in return.

"16...god that makes me feel old."

"You are old."

You threw a dish towel at her and she giggled as she blocked it. "Little shit," you mumbled.

"Fry cry from when you used to call me 'little one'."

You smiled. "You were so cute back then."

"What? Am I hideous now?"

You laughed and squeezed her in a tight hug. "You're the most beautiful girl I know."

You kissed her cheek and she groaned. "Gross, mom."

You laughed. "You know, someday you're gonna miss this. Soon, you'll be going off to college and leaving me in the dust. You'll get married and move away and one day you'll wake up and think 'man I wanna hug my mom'."

Charlie rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She paused for a moment, her face sobering slightly. "Hey mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you date?"

You nearly choked on your coffee. "Pardon?"

"Why don't you ever date? You're pretty and smart--I know there's a lot of hot, single dads at school who would love to take you out."

"As much as I appreciate that darling, I'm not interested in dating."

"Why not?"

You sat your mug down. "Why the sudden interest in my dating life?"

"Because I'm going to college soon, mom--and I don't want you to be alone," she admitted softly.

You sighed. "Oh sweetheart. You don't need to worry about me, I'll be just fine. Besides, I'm not alone--not really."

"I don't mean friends mom, I mean someone to love you."

"To be honest with you, Charlie, I've thought about it...but I know, in my heart, no one will ever compare to your dad. No one could ever love me the way he did, nor could I ever love someone as much as I love him. So I don't mind being alone--I know for a fact I will see your dad again. That's a gift most people will never have."

"I want a love like that," Charlie said quietly.

You smiled. "I hope you will someday, baby. I really do."

She smiled and nodded, looking down at the last of her cereal. "It's kind of nice knowing heaven is real--like not just having faith, but knowing."

You glanced up, a small smile on your face. "Yeah it is, sweetheart. Yeah it is."

**********

"Mama," Charlie whimpered as she practically barged through your front door and straight into your arms.

"What's wrong baby? What happened?"

"Steven broke up with me," she cried.

"Oh sweetheart," you said gently. "Come on in and sit down. Let me make you some chamomile tea."

Charlie sniffled and nodded, coming into the house and sitting down at the kitchen island to watch you as you prepared her tea.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?"

"He said I wasn't good enough for him--that he's going places and I'll just 'hold him back'."

You closed your eyes and your grip tightened on the tea kettle in your hand. You felt the strong urge to go find this kid and smack him around a little, but you knew that wouldn't solve anything. It certainly wouldn't fix your daughter's broken heart. For the first time, you were glad Dean wasn't here--you knew he would have beaten the shit outta the kid for hurting his baby girl.

"He's obviously an idiot--and an asshole, for that matter."

Charlie sniffled again. "But I love him."

You sighed softly, turning around to face her. "I know, sweetie. But I also know he's not the right man for you."

"How do you know?"

"He would have never said those things to you if he was. If he loved you and I mean truly loved you, you would be his priority."

Charlie nodded, but still looked horribly sad. You finished making her tea and sat the cup down in front of her with a soft smile.

"You're gonna be okay, baby. It's going to hurt for a while--and that's alright--it's okay to feel. But you're going to dust yourself off and keep going."

"What if I never find anyone?" she whispered.

"You're 19, Charlie," you said gently. "You've got so much time. I was 31 when I married your father."

She looked up at you with sad eyes. "I wanna find a love like you and daddy."

You inhaled deeply. "That's all I've ever wanted for you, sweetheart--and I know your dad would want the same thing. I'm sure it's hard to not have relationship role models in your parents, but at least you know how we feel about each other."

Charlie shook her head qucikly. "You guys are my relationship role models. Just because dad isn't here, doesn't mean I don't look up to him and you. I've heard stories about how much he loved you my entire life--from everyone, Uncle Sam, Aunt Donna, Aunt Eileen, Aunt Jody, Claire, Alex...everyone. And I've seen how much you love him...even now. It's been 19 years since he died and your love hasn't diminished."

Tears filled your eyes. You were glad she knew how much her parents loved each other, even if she never saw them together.

You came around the island and took Charlie's hand, guiding her to the couch in the living room. She sat down beside you and you held her close, letting her cry softly into your chest.

"Let me tell you something, sweetheart. Someday, you're going to meet someone who makes you laugh, holds you when you cry, supports all of your goals and ambitions, and loves you for who you are. They'll treat you right, respect you, and fight for you even when it's difficult."

You kissed the top of her head and continued, "I hope that person makes you feel amazing--like you're the only woman in the world to them. I want you to be loved fully--by someone who sees your value, your worth. And I hope you love them with the same kind of endless passion."

Charlie sniffed and held you a little tighter.

"I love your dad with everything I have--he's the other half of my soul. He loved me infinitely more than I deserved and I am incredibly honored to have experienced that kind of love. All I want is for you to experience a love like that--a love that lasts forever...death be damned."

**********

Dean's POV:

I listened to my daughter cry over her first broken heart and I watched my wife comfort her in a way only someone as amazing as she is could do.

I listened to Charlie say her mother and I were her role models--that she hoped to find a love like ours one day.

I cried as I listened to my wife tell our daughter her hopes for the future--and the love she hoped Charlie would experience. I cried even harder as (Y/N) tells her the kind of love we shared--the kind that lasts even in death.

I can't help but share the same hope as my wife--echo the same prayers for her future. She deserves the world, and that includes a love story for the ages.

I watch, with tears in my eyes, as my wife glances up at the ceiling and mouths 'I love you' before blowing a kiss. This time, I whisper the words back and blow a kiss to her, hoping somehow she can sense it.

**********

"He's just such a great guy," Charlie gushed.

You looked over at Sam, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Does he treat you right?" he asked.

Charlie nodded eagerly. "He's so good to me. He's always respectful and sweet--I...I think I love him."

Your eyes widened and you gave Sam a pointed look.

"Why don't you bring him by for dinner on Saturday?" Sam suggested.

"That would be great!" She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thanks Uncle Sam!"

She rushed out the door, giddy in the way only new love could be.

"So you're gonna research the hell outta him, right?" you asked.

"Obviously," Sam agreed.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Sam had completed his research and to your happy surprise, there didn't seem to be anything concerning in this guy's past. Of course, you took precautions, as you so often did with Charlie's friends and boyfriends. You needed to make sure she was safe.

Sam had laid out the silver dinnerware and you'd blessed all the water in the house, just in case. You could never be too careful--you were still Winchesters after all.

When Charlie and her boyfriend, Paul, arrived, you were surprised by how gentlemanly he was. He'd brought you flowers, which you thought was a very sweet gesture, especially since they were lilies--your favorite.

"That's so sweet of you, Paul," you said warmly. "Lilies are my favorite."

He smiled. "I asked Charlie what your favorite was so I could get you something you would like."

You were surprised by the thoughtfulness of the gesture, but it gave you a very positive feeling in your chest. A feeling you could see reflected in your daughter's eyes.

The more you talked with him and the more information you got, the more you liked him. He was genuinely kind and caring, and you could see how much he cared for Charlie.

He made her laugh, he made her smile, and he was gently affectionate with her in a way that reminded you of Dean. In fact, there was a lot about him that made you think of Dean...and that made you extremely happy for your daughter.

Eileen, Charlie, and Paul were sitting in the living room after dinner, while you and Sam cleared the table and did dishes. You'd had to practically force Paul to go sit down. He was very insistent on helping you. Normally, you would have happily taken his help, but you really wanted to talk to Sam alone.

"So what do you think?" you asked softly.

"He doesn't seem to be any kind of monster," Sam mumbled. "And he treats Charlie well."

"I like him," you admitted. "He, uhh--he reminds me of Dean."

"Really?" Sam asked in surprise.

"The way he looks at Charlie...the way he makes her laugh and smile...the way she looks at him. All of it reminds me of my relationship with Dean. It's what I've always wanted for her."

Sam smiled. "You must really like him to compare him to Dean."

You chuckled. "You're not wrong. I'm happy for her, but I'm not trying to marry her off yet."

Sam laughed. "I know you're not, don't worry."

Later that night, Charlie asked you what you thought of Paul and you repeated what you'd told Sam earlier.

"He reminds you of dad?" Charlie whispered.

You nodded. "I liked him very much."

"So do I, mom."

You pulled her close, hugging her tightly. "I'm happy for you baby."

"Thanks...I'm glad you approve."

"So does your Uncle Sam, for the record."

"That actually makes me feel really good," Charlie admitted. "It's almost as good as having a seal of approval from dad."

You smiled. "I know your dad would like him too, sweetheart. He makes you happy and that's all we've ever wanted for you."

**********

"Today's the day," you whispered, looking at the framed picture of your husband. "Our baby girl is getting married."

It had been two years since you'd first met Paul and the longer you knew him, the more you liked him. He was the right match for Charlie and you couldn't even begin to describe how happy you were for her. She deserved to be loved by a good man--to experience a love as powerful as her parents have.

You couldn't believe they were getting married today. It was the next step in your daughter's life and it brought you so much joy, and perhaps a little sadness. It was the end of an era. Your little girl was about to start a new life with the man she loved...and it made you miss your other half.

You'd always known today would be difficult. Dean wouldn't be there to walk his daughter down the aisle and it broke your heart, but that didn't mean he couldn't be present. You had a framed picture of him with you at Charlie's suggestion--a way to keep his memory with you on this special day.

His picture was wonderful, but you craved his presence--his soul. You wanted to feel like he was with you, and you knew he'd want to witness the events of the day.

"Hey baby," you said to the ceiling. "I really need you here, Dean."

You waited a few moments in silence, hoping he had heard you.

**********

Dean's POV:

I was lounging in a chair in the Roadhouse, listening to Charlie and Ash have a heated debate about some nerdy computer thing I couldn't possibly understand. Just listening to them made me smile--it felt good to be surrounded by so many people I'd loved and lost.

I took a slow drink of my whiskey and chuckled softly at their antics. I made eye contact with Ellen over the tops of their heads and she had a similar expression on her face.

"I really need you here, Dean."

I heard (Y/N)'s voice in my mind and knew I needed to go to her immediately. She didn't sound distressed, but I could tell she needed me by the tone of her voice.

I stood up and crossed the room towards the bar where Ellen was standing. "I need to go check on (Y/N/N)."

Ellen nodded. "Use the backroom. I'll keep everyone out."

"Thanks, Ellen."

I went into the backroom and sat down. I closed my eyes and pictured the sweetest face in the world--my beloved (Y/N). When I opened my eyes, I was in a place I didn't recognize, looking at a woman I knew to be my wife--even if she didn't quite look like the woman I always pictured.

She was older than even the last time I saw her, but she was no less beautiful. Her curves were softer, her hair was graying, and the lines on her face were deeper. None of that mattered to me, she still stole my heart with just a glance.

She was wearing a long silky robe, which only increased my confusion. We were in a strange place, and she wasn't wearing proper clothes.

"Well, handsome, I think I've given you enough time," she said softly. "You're probably wondering where we are..." she gestured around. "Today is a very special day...it's Charlie's wedding day."

I gasped--I hadn't realized enough time had passed for her to have met a man worthy of marriage...hell, I didn't even know who she was marrying.

"I don't know if you've met Paul yet, but he's a wonderful man, Dean--and he's so good to Charlie. You would really like him, I just know it. He even reminds me of you," she said softly. "He loves her the way you love me. It's what we've always wanted for her."

I couldn't believe my daughter was getting married, but if her soon-to-be-husband was as great as (Y/N) described, then I was beyond happy for her. I wasn't going to miss a single moment of this day, no matter how long it took.

"I've gotta get my dress on and go check on (Y/N). Feel free to go find her--I'll be there soon."

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to stay for that...she was still my wife, after all, but it felt creepy to watch her change. Instead, I went to find my daughter.

It didn't take me long to find her and when I did, my heart clenched in my chest. She looked so much like her mother it was almost frightening, the only difference was her eyes.

I had no idea how old she was, but I would have guessed she was around 28--if only based on how her mother had looked at that age. She had long, beautiful hair that was styled in some fancy wedding do. A woman was finishing her makeup and there were other girls in the room with her chatting away as they got ready.

I didn't want to see something I couldn't unsee, so I decided to go back to (Y/N)'s room until the ceremony began.

**********

You smoothed your dress and took a deep breath before entering the bridal suite to check on your daughter. She was just preparing to put on her dress when you entered.

You inhaled sharply and tears stung your eyes as you took in her beautiful face--she almost seemed to sparkle. "You look beautiful, baby," you whispered.

"Thanks mom. I was wondering where you were--I almost sent one of the girls to come get you."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

You crossed the room and hugged her tightly. You helped her into her dress, zipping up the back and looking in the mirror with her.

"How are you feeling?" you asked.

"Nervous," she admitted.

"Don't be. You're marrying a great man. You have nothing to be nervous about."

"Were you nervous on your wedding day?"

You chuckled lightly. "Not even a little."

"Really?"

"Really," you confirmed. "I knew I wanted to marry your father and I knew he would be waiting at the end of the aisle for me--nothing else mattered."

Charlie smiled and you saw some of her nerves fall away. "I wish daddy was here right now," she whispered.

"He is, sweetheart--I know it."

"How do you know?"

"I told him I needed him. He would never ignore that call."

Charlie smiled tearily and you waved your hand in front of her face to dry the tears.

"Don't mess up your makeup, sweetie."

She laughed and you placed a soft kiss to her cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks mom," she murmured.

"You ready?"

She nodded. "I'm ready."

"Then let's go."

**********

Dean's POV:

I waited patiently outside of the bridal suite for my wife and daughter to emerge. I was rendered absolutely speechless when I caught a glimpse of Charlie--she looked even more beautiful than before. Even better, she looked so incredibly happy.

I followed the bridal party as they moved towards the main hall where the ceremony was taking place. I watched as everyone began to line up and I started to wonder who would be walking Charlie down the aisle.

As I had this thought, my brother appeared with something in his hand. He looked older too, of course, but he still looked like my little brother to me.

"I think you forgot something," Sam said to (Y/N) as he handed her what appeared to be a picture frame.

She took it with a teary expression and hugged him tightly. "Thanks, Sammy."

He kissed the top of her head before embracing Charlie. "You look beautiful, Charlie."

"Thanks, Uncle Sam."

"Alright, I've gotta go sit down. Your mother will kill me if I'm late." He addressed his words to a tall young man I quickly recognized as my namesake, Sam's son, Dean.

"Better go fast, the procession is about to start," (Y/N) teased.

I'd assumed Sam would be walking Charlie down the aisle, but now I was truly confused. Perhaps (Y/N/N) was going to do it.

The doors opened and the music poured out as the wedding party began the long walk down the aisle. Before long, the only people who remained were my wife and my daughter.

"You ready, sweetheart?" (Y/N) asked.

Charlie nodded. She took the picture frame from her mother and breathed deeply. She kissed her hand and then placed it on the picture with a small smile. I looked at the picture and surprise lit up my face. It was a picture of me...

She handed it back to her mother with a smile.

"In a way, he's still walking you down the aisle," (Y/N) whispered softly.

"It's perfect," Charlie affirmed.

The wedding march began and (Y/N) squeezed Charlie's arm gently. The two of them began the walk down the aisle and I followed behind them, proud to be there for this powerful moment.

This was the proudest moment of my life--or I guess afterlife. My daughter was happy, my wife was happy--I couldn't have asked for anything better.

**********

"You didn't say it would be this awful," Charlie accused you.

You chuckled lightly. "Of course I did, but you didn't want to listen."

Charlie groaned as a contraction hit her.

You looked up at Paul, who looked slightly terrified. "You alright there, Paul?" you asked gently.

"I feel a little anxious, that's all," he reassured you.

You smiled, thinking back to the day you gave birth to Charlie. Sam's face had looked very similar to the way Paul looked right now.

Much like you, Charlie was tough as nails, and you knew she would make it through childbirth just as you had. "You're doing great, honey," you murmured.

She moaned in pain, squeezing both your hand and Paul's. You winced slightly, but let her keep squeezing. You soothed her gently, brushing her hair back from her face, much like Eileen had done for you 30 years prior.

You almost couldn't believe it had been that long. It was hard to believe how fast the time had gone by, but part of you still felt as though time was too slow. You wanted as much time with your daughter as possible, but your desire to be reunited with Dean was almost as strong. Love was complicated that way.

Charlie's nails biting into your skin roused you from your thoughts and you focused back on your daughter, trying to help her through one of the most incredible--and painful--moments of her life.

Ultimately, Charlie was in labor for a grand total of 14 hours before giving birth to a very healthy baby girl. You watched proudly as she held her newborn daughter in her arms and whispered to her much like you'd done to Charlie when she was born.

"You did so well, sweetheart," you said softly as you stroked Charlie's hair.

She looked up at you with those piercing green eyes of hers--emotion filling every part of her face. "She's so perfect."

You smiled, remembering the past as if it were yesterday. "Just like her mama," you murmured.

Tears filled Charlie's eyes and you kissed her forehead gently. You were just as emotional as she was, but you did your best to hide it. You didn't want to burden her with your emotions.

"Do you have a name picked out?" you asked.

Charlie nodded. "Lillian, after Paul's mother."

You knew Paul's mother had passed away a few years prior, so you thought the sentiment was especially sweet. "Lillian is a good name."

"Her middle name is Deanna...in honor of dad."

You inhaled sharply, surprised by how a simple name stirred up so much emotion. "He would love that, baby. In fact, Deanna is your great grandmother's name. Your grandmother named her children after her parents, Deanna and Samuel...Dean and Sam."

"I never knew that," Charlie whispered.

"I guess I never really thought about it until now."

Charlie looked up at Paul. "What about her last name?"

Charlie had chosen to keep her last name when she got married. She loved the name and the history that came along with it--plus she wanted to honor her dad, a sentiment you appreciated.

"I think we should hyphenate it," Paul answered.

"Lillian Deanna Winchester-Riley," Charlie said slowly. "I like that."

Paul smiled. "I like it too."

You smiled at the young couple and your sweet granddaughter, enjoying the moment as long as you could. There was so much you wanted to say, but now wasn't the time. You wanted this day to be nothing but happiness and love--Charlie deserved it.

**********

Dean's POV:

It had been several days since I'd last heard from (Y/N) and I was beginning to worry. Usually she talked to me pretty often, even if it was only for a few minutes at a time.

I couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong, so I decided to check in on her--just in case.

When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find myself in a large doctor's office. I looked around the expansive room filled with several large comfortable reclining chairs, confusion flooding my mind. I didn't see (Y/N), but I did notice several people sitting back in their chairs, hooked up to IVs and monitors, and I had a feeling this wasn't a good place.

I began to walk down the rows of chairs, examining every face I came across. It didn't take me long to figure out this was a cancer treatment facility and these patients were likely receiving chemotherapy.

At the end of one of the rows, I saw a middle-aged woman sitting alone, reading a novel. My instincts told me to go to her and as I got closer, I realized I knew the (y/e/c) eyes as well as I knew my own.

"(Y/N)," I whispered as I sunk to my knees in front of her. She looked so much older than the last time I'd seen her, but I knew without a doubt that was due to her illness. She was wearing a pretty bandana on her head to hide her lack of hair and she looked painfully thin.

It broke my heart to see her like this--and it made me angry. Out of all the people in the world, (Y/N) deserved this the least. She was a hero, for god's sake. She'd saved the world as many times as I had, and she was a genuinely good person. She didn't deserve to suffer like this.

"Hey Miss (Y/N)," a woman's voice said from behind me. "How are you feeling?"

(Y/N) looked up at the young woman and smiled. "I'm alright, Cynthia, all things considered."

Cynthia nodded, a sad smile on her face. "Any nausea?"

(Y/N) shook her head. "I guess I'm used to it."

"Alright, well let me know if you need anything. You've got another hour left and then your daughter will be here to pick you up."

(Y/N) nodded and I watched the nurse walk away. When I turned my attention back to (Y/N), I could tell she felt terrible. The chemo was killing her as much as the cancer--she was becoming a shell of the woman I loved so dearly.

I almost couldn't stand to see her like this--the urge to run was one I had to suppress. (Y/N) needed me now more than ever and I would be damned if I left her side for more than a moment. She might not know I was there, but I hoped my presence would somehow comfort her.

I pressed my lips to her forehead in a soft kiss she couldn't feel and I whispered how much I loved her. As much as I wanted to be with her again, I needed her to survive--Charlie needed her more than me right now, so I couldn't be selfish. I would have done anything to make her healthy, but this was one problem I couldn't solve.

**********

You weren't exactly surprised when you'd been diagnosed with cancer three years prior, shortly before the birth of your first grandchild. You didn't tell Charlie until after Lillian was born...you hadn't wanted to worry her.

Chemo had been hell--maybe not quite as bad as what Dean had described hell to be like, but close enough. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy. You'd spent an entire year going to treatment after treatment, seeing doctor after doctor, and feeling like death the entire time.

You'd lost more than your hair...you'd lost your happiness and your spark--you'd lost yourself. Even now, two years in remission, you still didn't quite feel like your old self. You weren't sure you ever would be...life had simply thrown too many obstacles at you, and you were bound to break at some point.

The two constants in your life during your illness had been Charlie and Sam. You weren't surprised by either one's presence and you appreciated the love and care--even when they were a bit overbearing.

Now that you were healthy again, Charlie had been focusing more on her husband and two children--having just given birth to her second child.

You couldn't fault her for it, after all you'd told her you were completely fine. The only person who saw through you was Sam, but then again, he always had.

"Speak of the devil," you murmured softly as Sam walked into the living room.

"Were you talking about me?" Sam teased lightly.

"Technically, I was thinking about you."

"Okay, good. That's less concerning. For a moment, I thought you'd been talking to yourself."

"I tend to keep those conversations internal."

"You tend to keep everything internal," he admonished as he sat down beside you.

You sighed, hating how right he was.

"So come on. How are you really feeling?"

"Honestly, Sammy, I'm okay. I'm neither good, nor bad...I just am."

Sam exhaled deeply and nodded. "Has therapy helped at all?"

You shook your head. "I can't really explain what I'm feeling to a therapist, ya know? They wouldn't understand--hell, they'd probably think I was nuts."

Sam raised his eyebrows knowingly. "It's Dean again, isn't it?"

Tears filled your eyes. "I miss him now more than I ever have before--with the exception of the weeks after he first died. I can't explain it, but somehow almost dying has made me want to let go...to be with him again."

"I can't even begin to understand how you're feeling," Sam admitted. "But that doesn't mean I won't be here to listen and do what I can to help you. I don't want you to die anytime soon, but I know how it feels to welcome death with open arms."

You laid your head on his shoulder. "It's almost as if cancer took the joy out of life. I thought for sure I'd feel it again when I got better, but it's just not there. I don't want to die, but I'm tired, Sam--I'm so incredibly tired."

He knew what you meant without you having to explain yourself further. He simply wrapped his arms around you and held you close, allowing you to cry against his chest. He would have done anything for you, but he knew this time you were beyond his saving.

**********

It was your annual visit to your oncologist and Charlie had decided to come with you. You'd been in remission for five years now, but you had a feeling of dread you couldn't describe.

Charlie must have sensed it because she demanded to come with you to your appointment. You felt a bit like an invalid, having your daughter come with you, but you knew she was doing it out of love and concern.

"How have you been feeling lately, (Y/N)?" your doctor asked.

"A bit tired, but otherwise okay," you answered.

The doctor nodded, a sad look on her face. It was a look you knew well--you'd seen it before. "Just tell me," you inisisted.

Both Charlie and the doctor looked surprised, but the doctor was the first to recover. "I'm afraid your scans aren't looking good."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath--both knowing and fearing her next words.

"It looks like the cancer is back...and it's spread."

You sighed heavily, but didn't cry--you'd already accepted the inevitability of death and you weren't surprised it was arriving sooner than you'd expected.

Charlie, on the other hand, was devastated. You heard her gasp out a soft sob, so you turned your attention to her, wrapping your arms around her to comfort her.

"How long?" you asked the doctor softly.

"With chemo and maybe some radiation, a year, maybe a year and a half."

Charlie's soft crying intensified, prompting you to hold onto her a little tighter.

"And without treatment?"

"Wait, mom--no," Charlie said quickly.

Your eyes locked on to the doctor's gray ones and she exhaled softly. "A few weeks--two months at most."

Charlie looked up at you, bright green eyes begging you for something you knew you couldn't give.

You smiled sadly, tears of your own filling your eyes. "I can't do it again, baby--I just can't. I don't want to live the last bit of my life suffering like I did with the last round. I'm 70 years old--I've lived my life, and I'm ready to let go."

Charlie sniffled. "But I'm not ready."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. We're never ready for the people we love to leave us. I don't want to leave you, but I can't stay forever."

"How am I supposed to live without you?" she whispered.

You smiled. "Luckily, you have a loving family who will support you through this. Losing someone is never easy, but you'll get through it, sweetheart. I'll be going to join your dad, so we'll both be watching over you."

She seemed to find some comfort in this, but you could still see the pain she was feeling. It broke your heart to leave her, but it was time. You were ready to go home--to Dean, who had always been your home.

**********

Telling Sam you were going to die had been one of the hardest things you'd ever had to do. He hated the idea of losing you almost as much as Charlie did, but he understood why you couldn't go through treatment again.

You'd done the rounds--saying goodbye to all the people you loved who still remained on earth. You would miss them terribly, but you knew this wasn't goodbye--you'd see them all again someday.

For the last week, you'd been in hospice. The end was coming soon and you were ready, even if your daughter wasn't. You were on enough pain medication to take down an elephant, but you managed to stay awake long enough to talk when you had visitors.

Today was one of those days. You'd already said your goodbyes to everyone else you loved, but Charlie was the one you knew would be the hardest. You'd tried to prepare her for this moment, but you knew it wasn't easy for her. You wanted to reassure her everything was going to be alright--she was going to be okay.

"I wanted to talk to you, sweetie," you said softly, interrupting your daughter's story.

"Sure, mom," she murmured, taking your hand. "What is it?"

"I'm ready to go," you whispered. "But I can't leave until you let me go."

Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm not ready."

"Yes you are. You're the strongest person I know and you've got a loving husband who will help you through this." You squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Besides, you know where I'm going...how many people can say that?"

She nodded, sniffling softly. "Not many."

"Exactly. But you know. You know heaven is real. You know that all the people we love are there waiting for us. You know I'll always be with you--that I'll be checking in on you any chance I get. That knowledge is a gift, Charlie...the greatest gift I could possibly give you."

She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing your words to sink in. She hated letting you go, but she knew you were right. It hurt her to see you in pain and she could tell you needed to go.

"I will always love you, Charlie. Always. You're the best parts of me--and your dad. I've been honored to be your mother, to watch you grow up, to see the amazing woman you've become. I'm so proud of you in every way a mother can be proud of her daughter. You will always be my little girl--and I will never ever leave your heart."

Charlie laid her head on your chest, letting the tears fall in earnest. "I know how much you love me, mom, and I'm so thankful that I've had all these years with you. I love you so much and I'll miss you always. But I know it's time for you to move on...and you're right, I'll be okay. So it's okay...you can let go now. Go be with dad...where you belong."

Those words warmed your dying heart. They were what you needed to hear--what you needed Charlie to say. This was it. The last few moments of your life on earth. For many people, this moment would spark fear, but for you it was a welcome relief. As you'd told your daughter, you knew where you were going--you were going home.

**********

When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to find yourself in an open field. The sun was shining brightly and birds were singing softly. For a moment, you were lost--unsure of where you were or how you got there.

You looked down at your hands, surprised to see how soft and smooth they were. You'd become accustomed to the wrinkles of old age, but it appeared those were gone.

"Hello, (Y/N)," said a familiar voice from behind you.

You turned around and greeted the young man with a smile. "Jack!"

You hugged him without thinking--something you'd always done when you'd both been on earth. You supposed thinking of him as a 'young man' wasn't quite accurate anymore, but that's how you'd probably always see him.

Jack returned your embrace with a gentle smile. "Welcome to heaven."

You let go of him and nodded. "I, uhh, I think I'm a little younger than I was when I died." You held your hands up as evidence.

Jack nodded. "You are the same age you were when Dean passed away. I thought you would appreciate that."

You blinked away tears and nodded quickly. "Thank you," you whispered. You were about to ask where Dean was when Jack nodded towards a building in the distance.

"He's in there."

You glanced towards the building, eyes narrowing to read the signage above the door. A warm smile graced your face as you realized it was Harvelle's Roadhouse--the very place you'd met Dean.

You turned back to Jack to thank him, but he'd disappeared. You murmured another thank you to him, knowing he would hear you. He was god, after all.

You walked the relatively short distance to the Roadhouse, stopping outside the door to take a deep breath. It might not have been all that long for Dean, but for you it had been 38 years.

You knew you were more than ready to see him, so you pulled the door open and stepped inside. It felt exactly like stepping into the past--like being embraced by a favorite memory.

**********

Dean's POV:

I heard the doors open, but I didn't think much of it. People were always coming and going from the Roadhouse. It was a popular establishment, even in heaven.

I didn't even think anything when I heard Ellen greeting someone happily. I was too engrossed in the old western show I was watching on the TV above the bar.

It wasn't until I heard Bobby say "(Y/N)" that I started to pay attention--the spell finally broken. I looked around, trying to figure out why he'd said her name, when I made eye contact with the most beautiful (y/e/c) eyes I'd ever seen. I would know those eyes anywhere.

I jumped out of my seat and took a few steps in her direction, whispering her name like I was afraid she would disappear if I said it too loud.

She smiled at me--a warm, loving expression I'd missed more than I could express. "Hi, Dean."

Hearing her voice pushed me into action. I moved towards her at the same time she moved towards me--meeting in the middle in an embrace I'd craved for longer than I'd care to admit.

Neither of us spoke, we didn't need to. Just feeling her in my arms again was better than any words she could have said.

She looked up at me, affection warming her features, and I couldn't help but stare. She was so beautiful it hurt--if I hadn't already been dead, I would have passed out from lack of oxygen. I couldn't breathe as I looked at her--hell, I didn't even want to blink.

She reached up and touched my face, and I leaned into her caress. I'd missed the feeling of her gentle hands and I reveled in the feeling now.

She gently tugged on my head, pulling me down towards her. She stood up on her toes so she could press her lips against mine in a kiss more passionate than any we'd ever shared.

**********

Seeing Dean for the first time in almost 40 years was a shocking experience. He was just as handsome as you remembered, perhaps even more so.

You knew just by the way he looked at you that his love hadn't diminished in any way--just as yours hadn't.

Your embrace was wonderful, but it wasn't until your lips met his that you really felt the powerful emotions coursing through you. You had no desire to ever stop kissing him and you had a feeling he felt the same way.

You poured all your love for him into the kiss, and you could feel how much he loved you in return. It was more passionate--more powerful--than any kiss you'd ever shared with him on earth. You weren't sure if it was a heaven thing or simply because you'd been apart for so long.

When you finally separated, he looked at you with adoring eyes, hands still holding you firmly against him. You had a feeling he was afraid to let you go--a sentiment you shared.

He seemed to remember there were lots of witnesses around, which only made him more protective of you.

"Do you wanna see where I live?" he whispered quietly.

"Of course."

He addressed the room without taking his eyes off you. "I'm sure we'd all love to catch up and reminisce, but it'll have to wait. My beautiful wife and I have some catching up of our own to do."

You heard some knowing chuckles, which neither of you acknowledged. Instead, you allowed him to lead you out of the building and onto a gently sloping trail.

At the end of the trail sat a lovely little house, complete with a white picket fence--the kind of storybook ending neither of you had gotten in life.

Dean led you into the house and you instantly fell in love with it. There was just something about it that felt like home. Perhaps it was the man standing beside you, a hopeful look on his handsome face.

"Do you like it?"

"It's perfect," you said honestly.

He seemed to relax again, a small smirk dancing on his lips. "Wanna see the bedroom?"

You grinned. "I'd love to."

He led you down the hall to the bedroom. To your surprise, the room looked identical to the bedroom you'd shared at the bunker. You didn't expect such a simple thing to make you so emotional, but you couldn't help the tears that sprang to your eyes.

"Are you okay?" he murmured.

You nodded. "I just didn't realize how much I missed this room."

He smiled. "It's the only place that ever felt like home."

You shook your head. "Anywhere with you felt like home to me."

He turned to you suddenly, pressing his body against yours as he pulled you in for another heated kiss. His desire for you was evident in his actions and you had to admit, you wanted him just as badly.

"I'm glad you took your time," he admitted.

You pulled back, a little surprised at his words.

"Not because I didn't wanna be with you, baby. You know that," he reassured you. "I just wanted you to live a beautiful, full life."

You smiled warmly. "I did, Dean. I really did...but I never stopped missing you."

"I know," he admitted. "I was there for a lot of it."

"I always hoped you were."

He smiled at you again, before leaning down to place soft kisses to any piece of exposed skin he could.

"I have something I wanna try," he whispered against your skin.

"Mhmm?" you hummed softly.

"I wanna see if there's a limit to the number of times I can make you cum...it is heaven after all," he murmured huskily.

You gasped. "Dean!"

"Only if you want to..."

"Take me to bed, Mr. Winchester," you whispered. "I think we've both waited long enough."

"Anything for you, Mrs. Winchester...but don't rush me. Now it's my turn to take my time."

You giggled as he tossed you onto the bed, lips never far from each other's skin. You made love more times than either of you could count, trying to make up for all the lost time. Neither of you kept track of the number of times you fell apart in each other's arms...all that mattered was the love that still sparked between you, a love that even death could never diminish.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean Winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x wife!reader #dean winchester x wife reader

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bikiniarmorbattledamage · 5 months

Text

So, naturally we had to, now the game is actually out, bingo the CENSORED outfit in Stellar Blade. Credit to HarryNinetyFour for showing all seventy-four outfits, and Kotaku for this article where they propose that Eve is at her sexiest when she's got more on.

Okay... maybe not that but...

Seriously, if you're playing to fap - this game has you covered. But it also has a few really interesting, covering outfits that seem to reflect fantasies of fashion and comfort.

The only thing that's really not present is any sort of actual military like BDUs or combat jumpsuits. That's kinda weird, even Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain let you put BDUs on Quiet.

And that bit is weird is, based on what I've seen people who've been playing the game saying - there is really a story about her being a soldier and fighting for a cause there. But you'd never know that based on the ongoing outrage.

The outrage is weird and sad

So as you can probably guess, the continuing riot of "censorship" here is pretty absurd. It's got to the point where they even bullied the Stellar Blade's X/Twitter account to un-repost the Kotaku article that praises the game.

But here's the thing, in all the years I've had to deal with brodudes doing this kind of nonsense in various online platforms etc, I have never seen one that is happy.

YouTuber Moon Channel did a two part (1, 2) series on a different drama in South Korea involving a Gacha game that dared not to be pointlessly horny, but here's the general take away.

English speaking brodudes in this situation are imagining that Stellar Blade is some sort of iconic work coming from the anti-woke wonderland where everyone is happy. The reality is:

South Korea has a deeply hierarchical society which essentially tells young people they are to obey and not to speak up

The economy and nepotism is such that unless you are born into a rich family, your employment prospects are downright depressing

Many young men in South Korea develop a lot of resentment toward women primarily because they are told that in order to enter a (heterosexual) relationship they will need to demonstrate they have the ability to be a great provider, and then are denied those opportunities by the economy and nepotism

On top of all this, the government takes a "we know whats best for you" approach to the extent that not only is porn banned but you will be expected to supply your identity information if you want to look up basic sexual educational materials

They would find it to be an absolute nightmare realm.

The reality is that in the "woke" world that brodudes fear, we'd probably see a lot more eroticism in art, including games, and it'd be of the more focused, sincere variety rather than that directed by creepy marketing guy.

All we really need to do is accept each other as people, appreciate each other's humanity and boundaries. Then we can both enjoy a sexy paradise, but also unite and deal with the assholes who keep oppressing us economically and socially.

Wouldn't that be nice?

-wincenworks

#stellar blade #eve #female armor bingo #bikini armor #science fiction #video games #commentary #image #Bikini Armor Battle Damage #BikiniArmorBattleDamage #BABD

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Note

Not sure if you’d be into this butttt with the little cabin that Din just received - could we get like a glimpse of domestic life with din, reader, grogu, annndd maybe another kid or a kid on the way? Smut is welcome! But also it doesn’t have to have it

Ok hope you like the idea love you bye 😂

The Cabin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

rating: F (one mildly steamy line of dialogue but besides that just some domestic fluff)

wc: <1k

din masterlist

The days of sneaking glimpses of The Mandalorian when he’d come to the school you taught at to drop off and pick his son up were long gone by now, but standing on the porch of Din’s cabin that he insisted was now your cabin, you couldn’t help but stare.

Din was in the yard, sparring with Grogu to keep his apprentice’s skills sharp.

There wasn’t even a sliver of skin exposed, and yet he still looked like the sexiest man you’d ever seen. It was in the way he moved, the way he taught, the way he spoke to his child like every child wanted to be spoken to. He was just so…competent. A competent fighter, though he preferred to keep that side of himself far from you. A competent father, his devotion to Grogu running as deeply as his devotion to his Creed, perhaps even deeper. And Maker knows you can’t forget his competency as a lover—his skillful hands, his neediness, his attentiveness, his desire to make you feel good, it all made you feel drunk with adoration and lust.

“That’s enough for the day,” he announced through labored breathing, the child’s use of the force making the fight nearly fair. “You did good, kid.”

“You both did well,” you added from the porch, watching as Grogu leapt across the lawn towards you until you were bending down to pick him up. “Especially you.”

“He’s getting good,” Din said, meeting the two of you on the porch. “He’s a better fighter than most adults.”

“Well, he’s your son, after all,” you replied, looking into the black of Din’s visor. Din tilted his helmet at you, something you’d slowly learned to read as a smile, and reached to pinch your chin with his gloved hand. “Lunch is ready. You must be starving, little guy.” Grogu chirped and cooed in confirmation, his wide eyed look of excitement never failing to bring a smile to your face. Looking to Din, you lifted your hand to scratch his chin from beneath his helmet. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” he replied, low and husky.

“I’m talking about food,” you laughed and turned around to walk into the house with Grogu on your hip. Din let out the slightest of chuckles and followed you inside, the door closing behind him.

“Food sounds nice too, cyar’ika.”

Later on in the evening, you found yourself sitting beside Din on the bench in front of the cabin, the lid of his helmet lifted as he sipped on a drink. Your head rested on his shoulder, his armor off, and watched Grogu chase a frog around the yard.

“How’s the little one treating you today?” Din asked, his voice unmodulated and clearer than normal. You smiled down at your just-now swelling stomach and ran a hand over it.

“Treating me okay,” you answered. “Likes to kick when you talk.”

“Really?” he huffed a chuckle. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“I think it is,” you looked at him with a smile. “They’re just excited to meet their dad.”

“I’m excited to meet them, too,” he replied, soft and sincere, as though he were on the verge of tears. Turning back to face his child as he used the force to freeze the frog he’d been playing with and hover it back into his waiting hands, Din let out another chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, smiling.

“I just never…” He paused, looking back to you before closing the lid of his helmet, his voice becoming modulated again. “Just never thought I’d have all this.”

•

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tippenstoepens · 2 months

Text

Prettiest Girl in the Room

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Wordcount: 1.2k

You couldn’t hold it against Joe. As an adult woman, you knew better by now. Kisses don’t come with strings attached and just because a person kisses you, doesn’t mean they want to spend the rest of their life with you - especially if that kiss happened while both parties were drunk.

Which Joe made pretty apparent when he didn’t call you the morning after your kiss. Or the three mornings after that. Or the three months after that. All you had heard from Joe was his reaction notifications from the cast group chat when someone would send a Twitter meme made of the show. Everyone fancied one of Jackson’s character screaming “Well, you can shove your ham up your ass!”

“Joekeery loved an image”

That’s all you got.

You went about your life the way you always did between gigs: waitressing during the week, babysitting your friends’ kids on weekends, and sending out the odd self-tape in hopes your career wasn’t over before it had even begun. It was a nice, simple life. Not every actor was fortunate enough to afford a roof over their head in New York City, no matter how many doubles they worked. You consider yourself spoiled rotten every day. What could possibly be missing?

You didn’t date. That was probably part of the problem. That’s what made Joe’s silence ache so deeply. You wondered if it would change anything if he knew that the most action you had gotten in months before the kiss was getting catcalled in the streets. A simple kiss meant the world to celibate, touch starved women like you.

Maybe you should be the one to call him… And maybe you should crawl on your knees begging him to pay you a modicum of attention with “DESPERATE” written on your forehead in red Sharpie just to put the icing on the idiot cake.

He popped into your mind way more often than he was welcome. At the grocery store when one of the songs he always played in the makeup trailer started harassing you over the intercom. In your kitchen when you removed fish bones from your salmon. In bed when you were trying to… Well, that’s no one’s business.

“Guess who has two thumbs and just got renewed for a second season,” the director bubbled in the group chat.

“Oh, I love this game,” David texted. “This show. Our show got greenlit.”

It was time to shake it off. Not just for the sake of the show, but for your own sake. It wasn’t healthy to dwell so much on the past.

On the first day back from hiatus, the producers and director had the cast sit for a table read of the first few scripts they had written. As Joe’s TV wife, you’d expect to be sitting next to him considering most of your scenes were together. Maybe you should talk to Joe and clear the air before the table read started. Yes. That’s the mature thing to do.

You arrived twenty-five minutes early - which is on-the-dot on time in the acting world. Joe wasn’t there when you arrived. Or ten minutes after you did. Or five minutes after that.The anticipation of Joe’s arrival was turning your stomach into knots. He was usually punctual. Surely, he wasn’t tardy because of you.

“Any word from Joe?” The director mumbled to his assistant.

“Haven’t heard from him,” they replied.

You began to worry. Was he skipping out on the table read because he didn’t want to see you? Had his avoidance of you gone that far? He’d have to get over it eventually. He had a contract to fulfill. Just as you began your descent into a catastrophizing spiral, the clock struck eleven and Joe jogged into the room - beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “So sorry,” he panted. “Traffic was terrible.”

“It’s okay, we wouldn’t get started without our golden boy,” David teased. “I hear he’s up for sexiest man alive this year.”

Joe blew a short raspberry in response.

“Alright, alright, let’s get right into it, shall we? From the top of episode one.” The director chirped, no doubt relieved that he didn’t have to read Joe’s lines for him. “Interior. The Henderson bedroom. John and Jane Henderson lie in bed, covered only by their silk bed sheets. They’re snuggled up together. Post-coitus is implied.”

Say sike right now. You had never done a scene like this with Joe before. Never! The Henderson’s didn’t even have a scene like this in their honeymoon episode.

Of course this would be the first scene on the first day back after your first time seeing Joe after your first kiss. It was fan service. Every girl, guy, and person wanted to see more of Joe’s skin these days. But why did you have to be dragged into it?

You turned to look Joe in the eyes as you would have at any other table reading. Normal. This is normal. Business as usual. But it didn’t feel as easy as it was before. At first, you struggled to make eye contact and when you finally did, the intensity of his gaze made you blush a bit. Only a bit. The show must go on.

“That was amazing, sweetheart,” he scooped the line off the page and met your gaze again.

God, the script writing was really going downhill this season, huh?

You sighed contently as the script dictated. “You’re tellin’ me!”

The whole cast chuckled.

The rest of the table read went on without a single hitch. After the ice was broken, things weren’t nearly as awkward as you dreaded they would be. The cast went through the entire table read five times before the lunch break. The first thing you did with your free time was approach Joe.

“You didn’t call.”

“Neither did you."

Fair, but not really because Joe was the one with a booming career and Joe was the one everyone tuned in to the show for and Joe was the one with most of the power in this dynamic and Joe was the one who initiated the kiss and infinitely many other reasons that he was to blame came to mind before you finally came to the conclusion that you didn’t call Joe because you were afraid of the possibility of rejection. What if you followed up only to find out that he wasn’t interested in you? Your low-self esteem convinced you that reaching out to a person like Joe was asking for embarrassment.

“So what now?” The rough exterior melted, revealing the vulnerable little girl inside that just wanted a boy to like her back.

“Well, that’s up to you,” he shrugged.

Not necessarily the answer you wanted. You just stared him down until he said more things.

“If it was just a drunken kiss, I understand. We’ll never speak of it again. We’ll keep things professional.”

“And if it wasn’t?” You murmured while making sure to avoid eye contact lest you be made a fool of for saying that.

“If it wasn’t… I’d like you to have dinner with me," he blushed. "Some time. If you… I dunno if you have free time- Well, of course you have free time, but I meant- If you want to have dinner,” he stammered and stuttered.

“I’d love to.”

Joe sighed in relief. “Great. Do you like Italian?” He smiled a bashful, closed lipped smile and it made the corners of his big, brown eyes crinkle.

“I love Italian.”

“I know a spot in the lower east side near Ludlow. Friday at eight? I’ll pick you up if you like.” God, his eyes.

The submissive in you wished he would stop worrying about what you like and make you do what he liked. The romantic in you found his sheepishness so charming.

“I’d like that,” you beamed.

Taglist: @thefrontofmymind, @bejeweled13swiftie

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #a quiet place day one #eric aqpdo #hoard #hoard film #jq #eddie munson #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fandom #joseph quinn rpf #fluff

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

Text

the weekend | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | fwb, sm*t, angst

⇢ WC: 13.8k

⇢ WARNINGS: alright boyz strap in bc it's a doozy lmao, protected s*x, multiple org*sms (m & f), or*l s*x (m receiving), face f*ck, f*ngering, rough s*x, face slapping, sp*nking, exh*bitionism, sir k*nk, t*tty f*ck, t*tty sucking (duh), body piercings (n*pples), age gap (reader is 23 and jk is like 30), infid*lity (reader is the other woman), ch*king, overst*mulation, sp*tting, man handling, finger s*cking, d*m jk, brief mentions of past add*ction, implied passing of a bby (mainly subtext w no details given), maybe unrequited love, maybe not (EVIL CACKLE), some dark thoughts discussed (nothing too graphic or detailed), fighting n yelling n crying yikes, all of these characters are v flawed (except for yul duh), cute bby moments!!, oc is v immature n naive n contradicts herself a lot, she maybe has a thing for older guys bc of that, some bl*od (just a scrape on the knee but ik bl*od can be triggering), this relationship is extremely toxic and not meant to be desired!!!, one homage to trixie mattel lmao

⇢ SUMMARY: every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

⇢ NOTES: so after months and months of planning this fic (i literally posted the teaser in JANUARY UM??), it's finally here. i think this is my fav thing i've written thus far and i worked v hard on this! would love to know ur thoughts, feedback is always appreciated!! ty @/taegularities for betaing!! (for whatever reason, this fic refuses to show up in tags n it sucks n nothing i do fixes it so i shall leave it be lol)

You can't tell what’s louder—the crunch of dewy, end-of-summer grass pricking the soft skin of your thighs like angry thorns, or the cracking of bones as your body thumps to the ground from your bedroom window.

“Ah-” the whine is quickly stifled by a sharp hiss as you remember your dad’s sleeping figure is just behind the wall next to you. “Ouch,” you whimper, praying that the crash hasn’t reached his watchful ears. Carefully, you climb to your feet, brushing the dirt off your bare legs. You spot a fresh crimson scrape on your knee.

Fucking great.

Finally, after days of longing and waiting, the weekend has arrived. Today, in particular, is a fantastic day. You were trying to look sexy, and blood isn't exactly the sexiest accessory. Bringing your wrist up to your nose, you inhale the candy-scented liquid you had doused yourself in before leaving.

Perfume still in check, thank fuck.

Goosebumps form on your skin as you take long, dutiful strides, cool night mist gliding through the thin material of your long silk shirt. You’ve committed this path to memory—out the window, usually in a more graceful manner, through the neighbor’s yard, and then straight down the sidewalk to the black Mercedes Benz waiting for you at the end of the road.

If you hadn’t done this a million and one times already, you might’ve missed the vehicle, so dark that it blends into the night seamlessly. You can’t help but wonder if that’s his goal entirely.

Still, the excitement of it all makes you walk a little faster.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you smile as you slide into his black leather passenger seat, leaning over the center console to give his cheek a gentle peck. Maybe you’ve overstepped a boundary and muddied the lines in the sand of your… relationship, but you can’t help yourself. Seeing Jungkook was always a treat, one you looked forward to every Friday night for the past five months.

“Hi,” he says impassively, eyes darting over your figure. A loose strand of hair dangles in front of his eyes, teasing you. “You’re wearing makeup?”

“Oh, um…” You’re at a loss for words; surprised he noticed such a slight change in your appearance. Although his perceptiveness was something you noted shortly after you began working for him, you can’t help but feel flustered. “Yeah, I… wanted to look nice tonight. Totally busted my ass climbing out the window,” you laugh.

“Did you get hurt?” His straight brows furrow slightly, silver piercing reflecting the moonlight.

“Just a scratch.” You lift your leg to show him the red mark on your knee. “Didn’t break anything, though, so that’s a plus.”

Wordlessly, Jungkook reaches over, popping open the glove compartment before you and pulling out the first aid kit he keeps there for emergencies. The scent of clean linen wafts over you from his daily cologne. His scent. Only his. You try your best to subdue the possessive smirk forming. “You should be more careful.”

“I’m okay.”

“Be more careful,” he commands, peering up at you with an icy gaze. “Got it?”

Whether it’s the seven-year age gap between the two of you or the tone of his voice, you know better than to argue. “Yes,” you wince as he rubs Neosporin onto the open wound. “Besides, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if my dad wasn’t so… overprotective.”

“Well,” he continues, sticking a pink Baby Shark bandaid to your skin before putting the box back, “as a father, I understand.”

“Yul is two, though,” you laugh, “I’m in my twenties.”

“Being in your early twenties hardly makes you an adult,” he mutters. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The need to protect your children always stays the same.”

“Poor Bunny,” you pout jokingly as you click your seatbelt on. “She’s going to be just like me when she’s older. Sneaking out of a window to see a boy because her daddy is a big grizzly bear.”

The comment has his nose twitching in irritation. “I’m done with this conversation, __.”

You freeze. Have you struck a nerve?

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you peep. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop.” His voice is flat, but your heart thumps. “It’s fine.”

All the excitement you feel suddenly morphs into an uncomfortable ache as you slump into your seat. It’s different than it was last weekend, positioned much closer to the dashboard than you would ever put it. There’s a claustrophobic sting in your chest as you realize someone else has been in this very spot.

You know they have, and you know who.

The deafening sound of the bulky silver band on his finger, tapping against the steering wheel as he begins driving to the hotel you frequent, is a sick reminder.

You swear there’s even a musky floral scent lingering in the air. Deeper and more mature than yours. It could be paranoia, or guilt, making you imagine things. Still, you hope your perfume finds its way into every fiber of his leather seats.

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks, interrupting any rational thought or doubt, luring you back into the vicious cycle.

“A bit stressful,” you sigh. “I applied for school today.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, pretty sure I messed up on the financial aid paperwork, though. It was super confusing; I didn’t understand any of it.”

“You should’ve brought it over. I could’ve helped you.”

Jungkook does have a master’s degree in finance. He could’ve been your Rosetta Stone, helping you decipher convoluted questions about taxes and deductions. However, you weren’t sure how he would’ve reacted to you pulling out your laptop post-sex, asking for assistance on something completely unrelated to your normal routine. “That’s not the type of thing we usually do when we’re together,” you shrug, “you know?”

Your response has him shifting in his spot, pierced bottom lip curling inwards like the words made him queasy. He was the one who encouraged you to go back to school in the first place. “I wouldn’t have minded,” Jungkook mumbles before quickly redirecting the dialogue, something he does whenever he’s frustrated or uncomfortable. “So, what’s the special occasion?”

“Huh?”

“What’s got you all dolled up?”

Oh, right. That special occasion. The one you’ve been anticipating since you were made aware of its existence.

“Happy three years sober!” You announce with a cheesy smile, throwing your arms up eagerly.

“Ah,” he huffs in recognition. His eyes are fixed on the road, but there’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. Success. It takes everything in you not to physically rejoice. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“What do you mean?” You ask with a pout. “How could I forget?”

“I don’t know.” Just like that, the flicker of happiness wisps away like a flame in the wind as his expression turns emotionless and stoic again. “It’s not really a big deal.”

You frown. Must he always be so… cold?

‘It’s okay to smile; you deserve it,’ is what you want to tell him. It's not your place, though. You opt for: “It’s a huge deal, Jungkook,” instead. Reaching over, you gently tuck the stray strand of hair behind his decorated ear.

A somber aura hangs around him like a dark, dreary rain cloud, and in moments like this, when it’s so visible, you just… need to touch him.

It’s stupid to think that you’re the special one; that you’ll be the girl to turn the rain into a rainbow and save him from himself, but you can’t refrain from trying.

“Did you celebrate?”

He shakes his head. “Went to work.”

You can tell from his outfit—a sleek black blazer resting neatly on top of an even darker button-up and tie. His long hair is slicked back, but gravity, and his ten-hour long shift took their toll, making the strands hang slack, short undercut peaking through. He looks so incredibly sexy. Maybe, you can comfort him in the only way you know how…

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo: 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you splurged on just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so is being with a man like Jungkook. When you finally get to have him the way you want, you’re incapable of rationality.

One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied…

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips. “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek in your hand and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear.

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in. His strong hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared, and his jaw is clenched painfully tight. He’s pissed.

You know you should apologize, or be a little shaken up, but the blinking of the turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted.

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple.

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth in. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically—his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug—but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel the entire life he’s built for himself.

Jungkook is an intelligent man, though. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a façade, and everything’s already been undone.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings.

The contact image would typically make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen makes you sick to your stomach.

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling you to shut up, before answering.

“Yes, Seulgi?”

“Your daughter would like to speak to you.”

Her voice makes you want to curl into yourself. Whenever you talk to Seulgi regarding Yul, you’re able to compartmentalize and detach that part of yourself from this one. The one that’s sleeping with her husband. Hearing her in this compromised setting makes you feel absolutely repulsive.

After some rustling and tiny sniffles, Yul answers. “Da-” She only manages a syllable before breaking into a cry-induced coughing fit. You cringe, poor Bunny. “Daddy!”

“What’s wrong with my baby?”

You don’t mean to giggle, especially when the little girl you’ve grown to love so much is clearly distressed, but the intimidating, grumpy, tattooed businessman beside you, talking in full-on pout, tickles your brain just right.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone!” Yul screeches in the most anguished, high-pitched tone.

“Bunny…” With the way his hands scrub down his face, you can tell the tears on the other end are physically affecting him. “Take a deep breath, please.”

There’s a shaky inhale, and a sad whine of an exhale as she tries to steady her respirations.

“Thank you, good job,” he affirms. “Yul, daddy is…” Dark pupils flicker over to you, his face scowled to match. He eyes you like you’re an annoying stain on his leather seat. A dirty little secret that’s keeping him from his daughter. The gesture sends a dagger through your chest. Usually, Jungkook tells his wife he’s working overtime, but he can’t bring himself to lie to his only daughter. “Busy.”

“B-B-But.” The wails have simmered down to a blubber. “Scared.”

“You have mommy, though, don’t you?” He counters exasperatedly, cogs turning at maximum speed to conjure up a solution. “And Ruru?”

Yul is a persistent girl. You’ve seen the two-and-a-half-year-old deadpan Jungkook with a ‘you can have them, then,’ when he tried to convince her that vegetables were delicious and totally not an abomination to tastebuds. “Jeon Ruru is scared, too.”

After a few months of dedication and trust building, Yul finally initiated you into her inner circle of squishmallows, all of which shared the surname, Jeon, followed by whatever random title her baby brain bestowed them. Jeon Ruru, a glass of strawberry milk, was her favorite. You coo in remembrance.

“What about Ado?” Jungkook suggests, exhausting all his options.

“Ado?” She peeps curiously, and you can almost see her doe eyes scanning the room for her runner-up, an avocado squishmallow you gifted her. “Ado’s sleepin’.”

“Can you go get him?”

There’s a long pause of contemplation before the pitter-patter of tiny feet on wood fills the speakers. “Jeon Ado!” She calls out, voice becoming distant as she runs to her bedroom, “daddy wantsa’ talk to you!” You make out a quiet ‘I’ll tuck you in’ when Seulgi helps her to bed. “Okay,” Yul huffs, breathless from her scurry down the long corridor, “he’s here.”

“Jeon Ado.” You rarely see this side of him, and it takes all of your strength to suppress the smile that’s creeping up. “Can you keep Yul safe while I’m away?” He even leans forward a bit, turning his ear towards the speaker as if he’s actually waiting for the stuffed avocado to answer, subconsciously playing along with his daughter despite being miles apart. The scene puts your overwhelmingly sweet perfume to shame. “Uh, Yul, he said yes. So can you sleep in your big girl bed tonight?”

Reluctantly, Yul grumbles in agreement.

“Alright baby, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Again, she answers with a little grunt and a yawn.

“I love you.”

“Love youuu!” She extends the vowel for emphasis.

“I love you more.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sleepy girl simply responds ‘yep,’ not even attempting to argue. He glances at you, this time with a wholesome smile, eyes warm with burning stars. It’s moments like this that keep you hooked, you think. Like always, the feeling is short-lived. When Seulgi mumbles a sweet goodnight to her daughter, their daughter, you’re reminded that you shouldn’t even be observing this domestic interaction.

“You know,” the man begins, turning his attention to his wife, “if you had given her a warm bottle, she would’ve gone down without a hitch.”

“Jungkook, she’s too old for a bottle.” And just like that, the fire between them ignites. You’ve never actually witnessed the pair fighting, only felt the uncomfortable heat between them in passing. “And she’s too old to be co-sleeping. She never had an issue sleeping alone beforehand.”

“Alright,” he asserts, “if Yul’s okay, then we’re done here.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” Despite his warning, she continues. “Getting her used to sleeping with you and then not being here?”

There were many things about having a daughter that Jungkook wasn’t prepared for.

It’s not that he didn’t do his research, and Yul certainly wasn’t an accident. He had wanted her more than anything. Especially after the…

Incident.

A baby-sized hole was left in Jungkook’s chest. Every day, it grew bigger and bigger until, eventually, that bitter emptiness would’ve swallowed him alive.

Jungkook needed Yul.

Still, there were certain things that parenting books and videos hadn’t warned him about, like the worry in his stomach whenever his daughter refuses her lunch, or the ache in his heart when he drops her off at daycare and she watches him leave through the window with a sad wave and tears rolling down her cheeks as if he’s just abandoned her forever. As if he or his wife aren’t going to pick her up in a mere four hours like they do every Tuesday and Thursday. His readings haven’t prepared him for the even stronger ache that consumes his entire body whenever he leaves for work too early and comes home too late, with barely any time to spend with his favorite person in the world.

Before Yul was even born, Jungkook and Seulgi had decided that co-sleeping was out of the question. Their room was for them, and he stood firm on that principle for a while. However, as time passed, their room became Seulgi’s, and the empty bedroom downstairs became his.

Jungkook couldn’t stand that room.

One night, after a particularly grueling shift, Jungkook trudges up the stairs for a late shower. Without finance talk or Yul’s babbles, he’s left to his own thoughts. Usually, under the scalding water, he wondered how his life turned out this way, or more so, why? This time, Jungkook wonders if there is even a reason to keep going at all.

He catches his reflection while brushing his teeth. His eyes are dark, cold, distant. Those same eyes belong to his daughter, but all he sees when looking into hers is love, innocence, and everything good in life.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for him.

Taking a detour to Yul’s room, Jungkook does his best to quietly tip-toe around squishmallows and discarded markers. Underneath the pink blanket is a little ball of fluffy black hair. She’s got her thumb in her mouth—a bad habit he and Seulgi had been trying to nip in the bud—with her chubby cheeks squished against her pillow. There were few things he hated more than waking her up, especially when she was sleeping so peacefully, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop himself.

Tiny, confused cries fill the room as Jungkook scoops her up.

“Shh,” he hushes, smoothing his palm over her onesie-clad back. “It’s just me.”

“Da- ddy?” Immediately, she relaxes at the familiar sound of his voice, words slurred as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with a little fist before peering up at him with big marble eyes.

“How was daycare, Bunny?”

“Scared,” she whimpers, slumping into his chest for comfort. “Scaredy cat.”

“Scaredy cat?” Jungkook repeats, trying to make sense of the phrase. “Who’s a scaredy cat?”

“Jeon Yul.”

Typically, Jungkook finds it adorable when Yul refers to herself in the third person. The way she says it this time makes him frown. “Jeon Yul is not a scaredy cat. Jeon Yul is a baby, that’s all.” Realizing that she’d probably heard the unfavorable title at daycare, his chest tightens. With a heavy sigh, he rests his chin on top of her round head, swaying back and forth. Her hair smells like green apples from her baby soap. “Why were you scared, sweetheart?”

“No color…”

On his lunch break, Seulgi informed him that she was picking Yul up early. In an attempt to encourage her to engage with other children, the teacher took away Yul’s crayons, sending her into a full-blown tantrum. Jungkook knew his daughter well, a spitting image of him in every capacity. The crayons weren’t the problem; it was that crippling shyness that made her afraid of socializing with nearly anyone other than you and her parents.

Her back ripples with tiny hiccups as she recounts the events. Jungkook decides it’s best to change the subject, not wanting to upset his two-year-old anymore—especially this late at night.

“Guess what?”

Yul grunts an inquisitive noise.

“Daddy got you Baby Shark coloring books.”

Her wispy bedhead bounces as she glances side to side, inspecting her room for any sign of new Pinkfong merchandise. Jungkook was genuinely amazed at her ability to keep track of it all, considering how much he and his wife loved to spoil her rotten. However, the word ‘rotten’ doesn’t even come close to describing his baby. “Where?”

“In my car,” he laughs, slicking her choppy bangs out of her eyes. “We’ll color tomorrow., okay?”

“I like Baby Shark,” Yul says, completely ignoring his question. The teeniest, tiniest, most precious yawn slips out, two little front teeth on full display before her lips smack together sleepily. Truly living up to her nickname.

“I know you do.” He’s still rocking her gently, buying some time before she falls back into sleep’s arms and out of his. “I missed you so much today.”

“Why?”

As of late, ‘why’ seems to be Yul’s favorite word.

Why is the sky blue?

Why do vegetables taste yucky?

Why is daddy’s nose so big?

He’d be lying if he said that last, brutally honest question hadn’t caught him off guard when she first uttered it on his hip at the grocery store.

“Because I love you.” It’s the most effortless sentence he’s ever spoken. The most natural feeling he’s ever felt.

“Why?”

“Because,” his eye roll is disconnected from his growing smile, “you’re so cute!” If they weren’t enclosed by the four pink walls of Yul’s bedroom, Jungkook would be embarrassed at the squeakiness of his usual monotone voice. Leaning down, Jungkook blows a raspberry against her doughy cheek, a tried and true method of making her laugh. “Do you want to sleep in my room?”

It’s against his better judgment and the ground rules he had agreed to, but he just… really needs to spend time with her tonight. The small nod against his chest seals the deal. Before he gets to the door, Yul stops him with an exaggerated gasp.

“Daddy, Ruru!”

“Ruru?”

She grunts, frustrated at her father’s confusion, frantically pointing at her partner in crime, the strawberry milk squishmallow lying neatly underneath her comforter. Just how she left it.

“Yul,” Jungkook starts, taking a few steps backward and bending at the waist, allowing her to take the oversized stuffie into her arms. “Isn’t this Mimi?” As far as Jungkook knows, the pink milk carton with a face had always been Mimi; a name Yul had dubbed it since he brought it home a couple months back.

“Ruru,” she states affirmatively.

And ever since then, Yul’s been a co-sleeper.

Jungkook prided himself on knowing his daughter like the back of his tattooed hand. Whether it’s a sixth sense, some innate father’s instinct that the parenting videos mentioned, or his own attention to detail, he could read her like a book. However, sharing a bed with the tiny human taught him something he had been blissfully unaware of:

Yul sleeps wild.

More often than not, Jungkook was awoken by a tiny foot kicking his back, or by his own reflexes as he was somehow pushed to the very corner of the bed by his twenty-pound baby. There were even a few times when a harsh tug on his hair acted as an alarm clock. When he turned around to confront the culprit, however, she was fast asleep, arm slung over one of the many squishmallows that had worked their way into his room.

Having her with him was worth all bald spots and bruises, though. It’s bad, he knows it, and night by night, Yul becomes more attached. Getting her acclimated to daycare had been hell, to say the least. He knows co-sleeping has possibly made her more reluctant to socialize than she already was.

Still, Jungkook can’t help but wonder who’s more dependent on the other. When he thinks about it, undoubtedly, the answer is him. Because as long as he wakes up to a little foot in his back, a fist in his hair, and the smell of green apple baby soap, he has a reason to keep going.

“Don’t you think she deserves better?”

Her sharp words swipe through the air like a blade. Even you feel the cut, cautiously eyeing Jungkook. You can’t read his expression, but something about it makes you rub a comforting hand over his shoulder. He doesn’t react to your touch at all.

There’s a sullen pause before he finally answers. “I think Yul deserves everything.”

“Right… Goodnight, Jungkook.” She hangs up before he has the chance to respond. Seulgi always struck you as a level-headed person, albeit a bit aloof, but never unfair or cruel. You assume she’s just being spiteful, because anyone who knows Jungkook would never question his dedication to his daughter. That ugly, bitter, jealous side of you thinks maybe she just doesn’t know him the way you do.

“Are you okay?” You whisper as if approaching a wounded animal, ready to attack.

“On Fridays,” he starts, eyes shamefully dropping to his fidgeting hands. “Yul spends the day with my parents.”

His incessant need to defend his parenting makes your heart ache. “Hey, I-”

“She’s usually asleep by the time I leave work.”

“Kook,” you interrupt his rambling. “You don’t have to explain; I understand... I think you’re an amazing father.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook looks you directly in the eyes. His are glassy and gentle now, but the fingers that hook into your lace bra, right between the cups, are rough and abrasive. “C’mere,” he gruffs, pulling you over the center console until you’re uncomfortably sandwiched between his solid chest and the steering wheel. There’s no effort to make room for you; he doesn’t slide his seat back. He doesn’t compromise any of his space for you. You accept it, steadying yourself on his shoulders with a grunt.

Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when angry? Something he can break without consequence? The sound of thread ripping and buttons popping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world.

“You wore this for me?” A fingertip lightly traces the petite swell of your breasts, barely bulging over the frilly black cups of your push-up. The sensation sets your skin ablaze.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “I wanted today to be special.”

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your morals and beliefs, crumble to pieces. Against your better judgment, you’re still here.

Yearning. Trying. Fighting.

You swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel.

The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him.

“I care about you,” you say truthfully, “a lot.”

The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, glowing bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils.

“You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. The baby fat of your cheeks mushes together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?”

The tone of his voice has your heart fluttering and your stomach churning with thick hot desire. Gripping his wrist with both hands, you moan out a ‘yes,’ unconsciously grinding down onto his slack-covered bulge. He’s barely touched you yet and your cunt is leaking, making a mess of your itty bitty thong and his work suit.

“Right, of course.” With the same hand holding you, Jungkook taps his index finger against your glossy pout, “open.” Just barely parting your lips, you let the thick digit slide between them. Immediately, he presses down against your tongue, trying to coax a gag out of you. “What if I want to fuck this pretty little mouth until you cry? How does that sound? Would you like that?”

Inhaling deeply, you nod. That sounds absolutely perfect.

“I don’t know if you can handle it, though,” he lulls, retracting his finger before plunging it back in, all the up to his inked knuckle. You squint in defiance. He’s teasing, but you can’t fight the tinge of anger in your chest. If there’s one thing you can do, it’s suck a mean dick. Looking him directly in the eyes, you swirl your tongue against his palm with ease, not choking once. You feel his cock twitch against the supple flesh of your inner thigh.

Unamused by your antics, Jungkook yanks his hand back angrily, making a string of saliva drip down your chin. Maybe a full face of makeup wasn’t the best idea. “Get in the backseat,” he orders huskily, wiping the damp skin on his blazer. Biting back a smirk, you climb off his lap and wriggle over the center console. You situate yourself on the cool leather, laying down and assuming face-fuck position.

The yellow glow of headlights swims across the ceiling as a passing car drifts down the misty highway. This is the first time in five months that you and Jungkook are out in the open, blissfully oblivious to the possibility of getting caught. It’s childish, but you hope someone sees. For a moment in time—in a wandering eye’s glimpse of reality—you’re his and he's yours.

“Couldn’t wait until we got to the hotel, huh?” Jungkook huffs when he opens the door. Giddily, you lean your head back over the edge of the seat, coming face to face with the tent in his pants. His hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt, desperate to bury himself inside of you. His favorite escape. “Well, since you want to act like a fucking whore-” his pants fall to his knees with a clang when he unbuttons them, “-I’ll treat you like one.”

“Please,” you whimper, noting the wet spot on his gray Calvin Kleins. Reaching up, you lightly drag your nails across it, teasingly pinching the head of his cock before he tugs his boxers down. A big greedy smile spreads across your face as his semi springs out.

The sight makes your lips part. It’s so pretty. Something about how the moonlight catches the glowy pink tip, peeking out from under his foreskin. The light accentuates every ridge and vein on his girthy shaft. So yummy it has you drooling-

Jungkook’s right. You’re a complete and utter whore.

“Is this what you wanted?” He peers down at you over his prominent nose, one hand clutching the roof of his Mercedes. The other wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a few languid pumps, getting himself fully erect for you. Teasingly, he taps the head against your plump lips. Unable to resist, you press a sweet peck and a kitten lick to his silky frenulum. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles, raising his delicious cock just beyond your reach. “You know better than that. Ask for permission.”

“Wanna suck it,” you pout, squirming impatiently. “Please?”

Suddenly, his heavy cock slaps your cheek with a wet thud.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl.” The praise is contradicted by another light smack to your face, this time with an open palm. Taking the hint, you open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out in anticipation. Jungkook watches you intently with furrowed brows and a slack jaw as he feeds you the first few inches. As soon as the salty flavor of his arousal hits your tastebuds, you moan obnoxiously, back arching off the leather beneath you.

He starts slowly, using your breathing to guide his movements—pausing on the exhales and giving you a bit more on the inhales. He does this until the entirety of his length is shoved down your warm, wet mouth.

The hem of his black dress shirt flows over you, obstructing his view. He places it between his teeth with an annoyed groan, wanting to watch the swell in your neck as you swallow him like a snake. “You take it so well,” he grunts over the material, “the best I’ve ever had.”

Tears clinging to your lashes finally lose grip, trickling down your skin until they get lost in the thick, dark swoops of your dangling hair. For once, you mean something more to him than she does. It’s insignificant and shameful, but at least it's something.

“Are you okay, __?” Jungkook asks, sensing the shift as your soul splays before him like your half-naked body. Stepping back, he gives you some reprieve.

With red eyes and drool bubbling at the corners of your lips, you moan out an implied ‘yes.’ His confession has you on cloud nine.

“Do you remember the sign?”

Again, you hum.

“Can you show me?”

Lazily, you tap his outer thigh three times, a hard ‘stop’ symbol you had agreed upon months ago while hanging off the edge of a hotel bed, preparing for Jungkook to fuck your mouth for the very first time.

“Good girl,” he says before rutting his entire length into you again. He’s so deep that the soft skin of his scrotum nudges against the tip of your nose, and the dense patch of trimmed hair on his pubic bone tickles your chin. Reaching down, Jungkook grips your neck, reveling in the feeling of it stretching against his palm as he moves in and out steadily.

Eventually, he hunches over, hands wandering down and holding your temples for better leverage. Despite the harsh digs of his hips, his delicate fingers brush away a few strands of hair stuck to your damp cheeks. The sweet gesture makes you whimper around him in pure ecstasy, moving your head to meet his thrusts for extra stimulation, circling your flat tongue around the base.

The whistles of the midnight breeze and the murmur of passing cars fade, and all you hear is Jungkook. The melodic, venomous praises pouring out of him poison your mind with optimism. He takes one last plunge, so powerful it sends you sliding back against the seat. To steady yourself, you grip his legs, attempting to ease your triggered gag reflex. He holds you there, cock stuffed to the brim as he slams a hand against the black steel of his car, shirt falling from his teeth as he moans ardently. You gasp when he finally pulls out, leaking tip still connected to you by a bridge of spit and precum.

“Why-” Cough. “Why did you stop?”

Your question is met with only the sound of rustling fabric and the chime of his hanging belt buckle as he removes his suit jacket and throws it into the passenger seat. Grabbing you by the band of your lingerie, Jungkook hauls your frame closer.

He snaps your taut bra strap against your shoulder with a single finger. “Take this off.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter, still trying to catch your breath as you sit up at the waist and unclip your bra. A shiver runs down your spine as the cool night air licks your exposed chest. This time when you lie down, you’re positioned under his spread legs. He stands over you with such authority and dominance. The underside view of his hard cock looks absolutely menacing.

“These,” Jungkook’s large palms grab at your tits, jiggling them, “I wanna fuck ‘em.”

“There isn’t anything for you to fuck,” you giggle.

After years of insecurity, and crying over vengeful comments from dumb boys you had broken things off with, you finally came to terms with your appearance. Your tits are small, and that’s okay. Plus, the cute little nipple piercings you had gotten a while back were definitely a confidence booster. There wasn’t an ounce of self-hatred in your comment.

Jungkook doesn’t take it that way, though.

“Shut up.” With a huff, he steps back and hunches, reaching down to deliver a harsh swat to your cheek. It was a little rougher than usual, and you wince upon impact. Instantly, he soothes the skin with a gentle pet. “Your tits are… perfect.”

Perfect? Your cheeks and aching pussy heat up at the compliment.

Squeezing your chest, Jungkook brushes his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He pays extra attention to the silver barbells, decorated with little sparkly peaches at the ends. “These are new,” he notes, tugging on the jewelry. You let out a breathy moan, legs clenching together, inner thighs embarrassingly wet. “Sheesh,” he laughs, “someone’s sensitive.”

“Yeah… keep going.”

“I like them. They’re cute on you.”

Throughout your acquaintances, Jungkook was rarely this vocal. Maybe some praise sprinkled in here and there, but seldom anything substantial. Tonight, however, he’s been dishing out sweet talk like candy. You can’t pinpoint precisely what, but something’s changed.

Whatever it is, it fills you with awful, wishful hope.

Jungkook shuffles closer, teasing the teat of your pierced bud with his sticky tip. The dreamy sensation has your eyes rolling back into your skull. A glob of spit drops between the valley of your breasts before he spreads the wetness over your skin with his shaft. He has to use a death grip to force your tits into a soft plushness, perfect for him to slot himself into. Again, you feel that fucking ring embedding itself into your skin like a nasty tick.

Cautiously, he guides his pulsing cock between your constrained breasts. A beautiful symphony of groans lulls out as he throws his head back in pleasure, long locks dancing along his clammy neck.

“You like that?” You hum, taunting him. “Tell me how it feels.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, eyes trained on your tits pillowing around him, focusing on the dewy sheen of your nipples and chest as his oozing cock spills onto your skin. “It feels-” his hips stutter, “-so fucking good.”

The way his teeth snarl around the hushed curse makes you smile, eyes closing as you relish in his pleasure. Maybe you’re too horny, or perhaps the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is making you crazy, but you wish you could live in this moment forever. Wallowing in the darkness, frozen in time with him. Yeah, you think, that would be wonderful.

“You can touch yourself,” he comments, spotting your clenched legs, desperate for some pressure.

“S’okay,” you mumble, reaching around to caress his balls. His thighs tremble a bit against your arms. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Can you-” he grunts, stomach clenching as he begins to feel that familiar pooling in the base of his thick shaft. “Hold them for me. I’ll take care of you after, just- let me cum.”

Obliging, you replace his hands with your own, squishing your tits together for him. The visual of you lying under him, complacent and willing, sends him spiraling. A guttural roar echoes throughout the empty road as he speeds up. “Tighter,” he orders; you listen. The saliva and precum are beginning to rub off, making the friction of his chaotic thrusts sting your skin. He notices, letting another string of spit fall from his mouth onto your flesh. “Be good and take it. I’m almost there.”

By now, Jungkook should know you’d endure any pain to be with him.

The darkest parts of your brain tell you he’s well aware of that fact.

After a few more humps and lulled words of encouragement, he’s bursting at the seams. Just before he blows, Jungkook steps back, tight fist jerking himself frantically as he spills his seed onto your chest. Your eyes dart from his angry cock to his fucked out expressions. The moonlight shines behind him like a glowing aura as he finishes with a scrunched nose and his tongue between his teeth. He looks angelic. You moan under him, flinching when a stray spurt lands on your chin.

Fucked out and dazed, he laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as his chest heaves. Collecting the liquid with his finger, he brings it to your giggling lips. The taste makes you hum as you lazily begin rubbing his cum all over your tits.

“Really?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re already starting?”

“Starting what?” You pout, batting your lashes at him and circling your nipple lightly with the tip of your nail, trying your best to look oblivious and innocent. Well, as innocent as you possibly can while literally covered in sperm.

“Don’t play dumb. You know what you’re doing.”

See, in many ways, Jungkook is different from any other guy you’ve been with prior. For one, you didn’t meet via horny messages on Tinder at 1 a.m. For two, he’s older, meaning he’s much more intelligent and much more experienced. After years and years of honing in on his craft, he just knows how to fuck. Jungkook is one of the rare few penis-havers in the world who can orgasm back to back; no refractory period necessary. Truly a hidden gem.

To put it simply, the man is a fucking faucet—one that you can turn off and on whenever you want.

As if on cue, Jungkook twirls his inked finger, indicating for you to turn around. The other hand squeezes his cock just below the crown to cut off circulation, keeping himself erect. With that, your white converses are planted flat onto the sparse grass as you bend over the back seat, leaning your weight on your elbows.

It's like whiplash when Jungkook's aggressive persona drops, and he's running his hands all over your body. Up your thighs, over your back, down your arms. He blooms petal-soft kisses on your bare shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Can I go in like this? Or do you need some foreplay?”

“This is fine,” you murmur, jarred by his sudden tenderness. “Perfect, actually.”

With a hushed ‘alright,’ Jungkook reaches over you to rummage through the pocket of his discarded blazer. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as he pulls out a square foil packet. Condoms were an unwavering constant in your weekend escapades. Jungkook always wears condoms. Normally, that would be a great thing; however, in this situation, it’s like a stab to the heart…

Because if he’s adamant about using protection with you, then that means he’s still sleeping with her, doesn’t it? And it’s not like you can even ask or scold him about it. She’s his wife, after all. You’re the outsider.

Jungkook hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them aside. Your glistening folds are on full display, waiting to get pounded mercilessly right on the side of the road. He shoves three digits into your mouth, letting your drool on them a bit before pressing them to your wet cunt. Opening your folds with his index and ring fingers, he lightly dips the middle inside you. He collects some arousal and spreads it to your clit in feathery flicking motions. You cry out, feeling the shocks of a blossoming orgasm.

“Already dripping, I see.” You can practically hear his cocky, satisfied grin as he stands straight and rolls the condom down his length. “Always so sensitive.”

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, “I always get like this with you.”

“I know you do.” Pulling a cheek to the side, Jungkook cards his sheathed tip through your entrance, making sure to nudge under your clitoral hood with every swipe. Lewd wet sounds ring in your ears as he tortures your hole relentlessly.

“Kook,” you huff, reaching back to dig your manicured, almond-shaped nails into his skin. “Just put it in!”

Suddenly, Jungkook slams your torso onto the leather. In one swift motion, he’s catching your wrists, pinning them both to your lower back with a single hand.

“I’ll give you what you want just-” releasing the back of your neck, he spanks you so hard you recoil, “be patient.”

Despite his words, you wait no longer than a minute before he’s guiding his dreamy member right where you want it. Jungkook always gives in quickly. How could he not when you’re ass up, face down, and practically begging? As he sinks into you, and you feel that familiar burn from the initial stretch, your eyes roll back, mouth opening around a silent scream.

Usually, Jungkook likes to overwhelm you with his entire length all at once. There’s some hesitation this time as he slides in only halfway before stopping. Too much hesitation for your liking. You’re confident he’s testing you. Your assumption is verified when he speaks in that annoying, condescending voice.

“If you want it so bad, come get it.”

“You’re so,” breaking free from his grasp, you press your palms into the seat and lift yourself up with a grumble, “infuriating.”

He hums halfheartedly, head dropping to watch you work yourself onto him. Only a single stroke in, and he can already see you coating him in a shiny, milky dew. “So fucking wet…”

“Can’t help it,” you peep, taking him to the hilt and circling your hips, trying to savor the feeling. You’re no stranger to his cock; how good it makes you feel. You spend every Friday night bathing in that pleasure, forgoing parties and hangouts with your best friends for a romp in the five-star hotel sheets with Jungkook. Still, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to commit his touch to memory. Perhaps, despite your denial, you recognize that this is temporary. Deep down, you know that someday, all you’ll have left of him is a tragic echo. “I love the way you make me feel.”

“Me too,” he gasps, guiding your movements as his fingers dig into your hips. Clearly interpreting your admission differently than you had meant it. “Your pussy’s like heaven.”

High on praise and drunk on the sounds you’re coaxing out of him, you whine, dragging your cunt up every inch of his throbbing length before slamming back. Hopefully, the dense forest behind you is enough to insulate the pornographic wails ripping through you. Even if someone somewhere hears, you can’t bring yourself to give a damn. Not when heady pleasure and adrenaline course through your veins like blood.

Just when you’re about to collapse, arms giving out underneath you, Jungkook grabs you by the neck and holds you flush against his toned chest. “Don’t you run,” he chuckles. The low baritone rumble goes straight to your clit. His warm breath gusts over your skin, contrasting the chilly night air. “Don’t give up on me.”

He’s pounding into you now, choking you tighter than he ever has, but he pecks you so delicately. Lips barely ghosting over the shell of your ear. So gentle and tender. As tears stream down your cheeks for the second time tonight, you can’t help but feel there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“What’s wrong?” He smirks, tilting your face, wanting you to look him in the eye as you fall apart. The visual nearly makes you combust. His stringy hair is sticking to his cheeks, flushed from exertion. Even the tattoos littering the expanse of his neck are splotched pink and red. Twisting in his hold, you grab a fistful of his damp waves, fingers tickling his short undercut. “What do you want, baby?”

“Cum…”

“You wanna cum?”

“Please, please, please.” Weak whimpers punch out of you in tandem with his brutal thrusts.

“What do you say?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl,” he rewards you with a smack to your sensitive clit, “you can cum. I’ve got you.”

And with his permission, you’re cumming. Your legs shake violently as you’re overcome with blinding, electric gratification. If it wasn’t for Jungkook’s strong arms supporting you, you would’ve toppled face-first into the seat. He fucks you through the height of your orgasm; hips never ceasing, even when everything becomes so intense and sensitive that your body instinctively tries to push him away. He watches your face intently, reading your expressions to ensure he’s milked every last drop of your orgasm before he lets you fall onto the leather.

Even in your hazy state, you catch the breathy string of curses, a telltale sign of his own impending orgasm. “Fuck!” He groans, removing the condom to paint your ass and lower back in hot, white ropes.

It’s funny, really.

He refuses to cum with you or inside you, something so intimate and special, but he has no qualms cumming on you. It’s almost like he’s marking you, burning himself into your flesh. Consuming a piece of you every time your bodies come together as one.

And all the while, his mind is somewhere else as his body swallows you alive.

“Look at you,” Jungkook laughs, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, rubbing his semen into your skin the same way you had earlier. “I’ve made a mess out of you.”

That’s true in more ways than one…

Lost in post-nut clarity, your brain barely registers Jungkook maneuvering you both into the car. Closing the door behind him, he moves you onto his lap, your back pressed against his sweaty button-up. Peering down, you see his slacks and boxers still around his ankles, black dress shoes poking out underneath. You’re in only a thong and sneakers, and your makeup is definitely melted. The two of you must look like the biggest sluts ever.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook mutters, noticing your delirious giggles.

“Oh, nothing,” you hum, leaning into him. Habitually, he wraps both of his inked arms around your middle. You despise how incredibly natural and serendipitous it feels, almost like you’re meant to be in them.

God __, get your head out of the clouds and return to Earth.

Life isn’t a romance novel, and you’re not a child anymore. You shouldn’t see the world as quartz-colored and magical. The man is seven years older than you. He has a wife and child. Logistically, it could never, ever work…

But if soulmates exist as they do in the books, you wish on every falling star that Jungkook is yours.

“What are you thinking about?” You coo softly, turning your head to stare into the abyss of his infinite eyes.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he can’t resist lowering his sinful hand to your most private area, cupping your sex unabashedly. “I want more.”

“You always want more.”

“So do you,” he laughs, pointing out the way you grind into his touch. Nuzzling into your shoulder, he nips your skin and then soothes his tongue over it like an insincere apology. “Just one more time, okay?”

You nod, head leaning back on his shoulder as you succumb to his skilled fingers, rubbing your clit in tight circles. Jungkook pauses in contemplation before popping his glistening fingers into his mouth. When the taste hits his tongue, his face contorts. He even moans dreamily like you’re the most delicious dessert he’s experienced. The scene has your own brows furrowing, lips parting at just how hot and bothered he’s got you.

Sensually, he trails the wet pads down, ghosting over a nipple, teasing you on their treacherous journey to your waiting core. He slides them in your wet cunt seamlessly, curling right into your g-spot. They move in a dip and wave that drives you wild, a wet suction noise sounding in the enclosed space. Turned on by your purrs and mewls, Jungkook subtly ruts against you, his plumping cock sliding between your cheeks.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?” He tuts patronizingly. “Gonna cum around my fingers, sweetheart?”

“No…”

“No?”

“Wanna cum with you…”

He stops, realizing what you’re alluding to, before pulling his fingers out and tapping your clit gently. “There’s another condom in my pocket. Can you hand it to me?”

“We don’t need it.”

“Yes, we do. Don’t be foolish.”

“... I’m on the pill,” you suggest hesitantly. Once again, you’re nothing but stupid and irresponsible when it comes to Jungkook. You just want to be with him, that’s all.

“__,” he starts, voice shadowed with sternness, “give me the condom.”

Realizing he won’t budge, you do as he asks and fish it from his blazer, watching idly as he goes through all the steps—stroking himself to full mass, rolling on a barrier, and then positioning you between his spread legs as he guides you down onto his length with a hand on your hip.

Cyclical.

Like clockwork, your jaw drops, eyes screwing shut as you let him invade your space and infiltrate your mind. You don’t believe the two of you have ever tried this position before, but it feels so fucking good. His cock is so deep you can feel it in your fucking stomach. It’s obvious from his groaning and the aggressive spank he gives you that the unexplored angle is affecting him too.

Outside, light rain begins chiming against the steel roof of his car as you take the first shallow rise of your hips.

Scratch everything you’ve said about this not being a romance novel.

Distracted by the calming sound, you thoroughly miscalculate how much space you have in his sleek Mercedes Benz and bonk your head on the ceiling.

“Ow,” you wince with an embarrassed giggle.

Hissing at the impact, Jungkook clutches your head, massaging the area gently. “Are you okay?” His voice is muffled, and you can tell he’s trying his best not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” You shout playfully, slapping his knee.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Chuckling, he moves your hair and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. “You’re cute, that's all.”

Cute? You swoon.

“Alright baby, keep going. Don’t stop,” Jungkook orders, the heel of his calloused palms pushing at your ass, encouraging you to bounce on his needy cock. A fucked-out sigh escapes him, head falling back for a split second before it jerks back up again, not wanting to miss the view of your perky cheeks rippling as they collide with his solid pelvis. “This position is so sexy.” Overwhelmed, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He chokes you for a moment, plays with your tits, swats them, grabs your hips, and then finally settles on your clit, flicking it like a light switch.

“Jungkook!” You wail, knees knocking together as you brace yourself. Men you’ve dated in the past struggled to get you off. Sure, they made you feel good, but they couldn’t quite bring you to the edge. It only ever took Jungkook a matter of minutes to have you whimpering and shaking, begging for release. “I can’t take so much! I can’t!”

Ignoring your pleas, Jungkook pilots your right arm around his shoulder, sending you flush against his frame once more. Dipping his head, he sucks the closest nipple into his mouth. Caught off guard, you’re so overstimulated that your hips come to a grinding halt.

“Move,” he commands with his lips sealed around your piercing, sending dizzying vibrations to your sensitive bud.

“I can’t,” you whimper, back arching off his chest as you try to calm all five tingling senses.

“Yes, you can.”

“No…”

Jeon Jungkook was never one to take no for an answer.

Scooting further down the seat, his large hands clasp behind your knees. He lifts your legs until the heels of your white sneakers are on either side of the driver’s headrest. In this new position, he’s able to pound up into you freely, relentlessly beating into clenching walls. Hitting every single delicious spot inside of you. “Jungkook, please!”

“Please, what?” Honestly, you have no clue what you’re begging for. All you know is that his mushroom tip rigorously stimulating your g-spot is going to have you gushing at any moment. His guttural, sensual groaning does nothing to slow your approaching orgasm. “You want more?”

As if you weren’t already gasping for air, Jungkook raises your legs to your head, knees locked onto his inner elbows. His fingers intertwine behind your neck, thumbs pressing into the base of your throat as he folds you in half.

A full fucking nelson.

“Watch me fuck it.” With a stern grip, he forces your gaze to his thick shaft, sliding in and out of your sopping cunt. Your vision is watery, but you can clearly see just how turned on you are, creamy juices coating his entire shaft. “Open it, baby. Watch what I do to you.”

Reaching both hands under your thighs, you spread your lips, getting a better look at him completely destroying you.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” Jungkook grunts, speech slurred as his arousal lulls him into a delirious, catatonic state. “Tell me what you see, baby.”

“So pretty, Kook.” You’re simply playing into his dirty talk, but the sight of your bodies connecting, becoming one, is profoundly gorgeous. “So wet…”

“Yeah? Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

That sends him into a frenzy, thrusts becoming so punctuated and violent that his cock accidentally slips out.

“Put it back in, put it back in!” You chant, frantically shoving his length into you. The yelp you chortle out is accompanied by the sound of your hand smacking against the foggy car window as your climax engulfs you. “I love it!”

“I love yo-”

He quickly cuts himself off, but everything stops when the sentence fragment hits the air.

Is your brain playing sick, twisted jokes on you… or was he really just about to say he loved you?

Before you can even process what’s happening, your biological responses take over, sending through the most earth-shattering, world-bending, mind-boggling orgasm you’ve ever had. Everything goes blank. Your eyes cloud with splotches and stars. Your ears ring with static and white noise, blurring the sound of Jungkook cumming underneath you, and the pouring rain outside, splashing against concrete.

This time, he doesn’t pull out, just works through both of your orgasms with gentle ruts and vulnerable whimpers.

After you’ve both calmed down and your heaves have diminished to a slow, even pattern, he pulls out, crumpling the used condom into a loose napkin he found in the center console. Still on his lap and in his arms, you watch intently as Jungkook leans his head back, eyes closing as he inhales deeply. To you, he looks almost… peaceful.

The moon trickles in through the thin streams on the window, reflecting on his face like stained glass—something that was once so clear and pure now jaded with somber shades of blue. Sad, but still beautiful, you think.

Delicately, you trace a finger over the black ink decorating his skin. You sit silently for a while, basking in the comfortable aura, simply enjoying one another’s company, before you finally speak.

“Why this?” You peep, pointing to the dainty letters at the base of his neck.

“It’s my daughter’s name.” He counters playfully, the faintest hint of a smile on his pierced lips.

“Well, duh, I know that,” you roll your eyes with a giggle, “but why here?”

“Yul is like air to me.”

Humming in contemplation, you continue your journey over the endless swirls and loops. During sex, the first three buttons of his shirt popped open, exposing the canvas of his chest. You feel a thick, dark cloud loom over you when you reach a certain tattoo, the one that’s plagued your mind ever since you first saw it.

Another name is engraved right above his heart in the same delicate font as Yul’s:

Seol.

“Yul, please. Enough.” If Jungkook had a dollar for every time he's said that in the last twenty-two minutes, he’d be nearly as rich as his boss, sitting directly in front of him on a very important Zoom call. “Daddy is working.”

Jumping at the sudden inflection of his voice, the little girl on his lap pulls her tiny hand away. For the most part, Yul was well-behaved. However, working from home proved to be an obstacle that he and his clingy toddler have yet to overcome.

She’s interrupted his meeting three times already. First, cutting off his proposal with the Baby Shark theme song, blaring from her Pinkfong tablet that he’d forgotten to mute. Second, peeking above his desk with her space buns and doe eyes to show his colleagues the latest addition to her squishmallow collection. The last straw was when she squeezed his nose.

With watery eyes and warbled lips, Yul blinks at Jungkook, heartbroken and confused as to why he didn’t make that funny noise she loves so much. Quickly, her gaze averts to her chunky legs, swinging aimlessly as she attempts to hold back the tears.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jungkook sighs, tacking on an apology before turning his screen off. “Bunny,” he lifts her chin with his index finger, another palm flat on her protruding tummy, “please, don’t cry. You’re not in trouble. Daddy just-”

The ring of a doorbell interrupts him.

“__?” Jungkook questions, baby at his hip as he stands in the doorway before you. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp. You weren’t expecting to see him.

Usually, you spoke to Seulgi. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook in passing, sparing quick greetings before he’s out the door. It worked in your favor, really, because for whatever reason, you felt extremely awkward around him.

Almost like that gross nervousness you get when you’re around someone you find so incredibly attractive it makes you uncomfortable…

Maybe it’s because he’s covered in tattoos and piercings. Maybe it’s because he’s a dad. Your group of fellow horny twenty-something-year-old friends have told you mythical stories and fantasies about older men. Freshly turned thirty-year-old men. Men like Jungkook. Dilfs. Something about that potent dad nut… Like, you know it works.

It’s inappropriate; you know it is. You’ve always tried your best to ignore the feral thoughts.

Today seems to be putting your mental strength to the test because Jungkook is dressed in baggy gray sweats, long dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. A few loose strands dangle devilishly in front of his eyes, taunting you.

“I-It’s 10… I’m supposed to be babysitting.”

“I’m working from home today. My wife didn’t tell you?”

With wide eyes and hot cheeks, you shake your head. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” you stutter, stepping back and preparing to make a mad dash to your hand-me-down Honda Civic. “I’ll just… be on my way then.”

“Actually.” An icy grip on your wrist stops you. “I could use some help. This one-” he nods his head towards Yul, stuck to him like velcro, “-is being a bit needy today.”

One look at her turns your flustered gape into a smile. The past month with her has been more difficult than you’d imagined. Yul was incredibly sweet and intuitive, but unbearably shy. Building a relationship with the girl was challenging, but you were determined to overcome it. “No way,” you frown animatedly, tickling her leg with the tip of your finger, “Yul would never.”

A giggle or two had been the goal. Instead, she buries her face into her father’s shoulder.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jungkook orders, noticing the defeated slump in your shoulders. “She’s always like this with new people.”

Seulgi had warned you that Yul would take a while to come around. Hopefully, it’ll happen organically. But for now, a little gift or two wouldn’t hurt your efforts, you supposed last night while running errands. Reaching into your purse, you pull out a bottle of non-toxic, baby-friendly nail polish. “Yul, look what I have!”

“Wow,” Jungkook plays along, gently nudging her head out of his neck. “Bunny, look!”

He calls her Bunny?

You’re in for it now.

Plump fingers wrap around the plastic, taking it out of your own with an awe-stricken stare. She holds it up right in front of Jungkook’s nose. “Pink.”

“Mhm, that’s right,” he confirms, pecking her temple. “Now, Daddy has to get back to work. Can you stay with __ for a bit?”

She looks at him, then at you, then at him again, then back at you, and finally, landing on the nail polish, giving her father a reluctant nod. You knew it would come in handy. Despite her agreeance, Yul still stretches the neck of his shirt with her tiny fists as she’s transferred into your arms.

Somehow, you managed to survive that painfully awkward encounter…

Only to be thrown into another one immediately after.

See, you’ve always known Yul was a daddy’s girl. On good days, the toddler would grab you by the hand and guide you around the house, giving you a tour of everything that belonged to her father. His shoes at the door. His coat on the hook. Even taking you into the bathroom to show you his shampoo bottle. But that fact was never more apparent than now, as Yul stands in the middle of the living room on the verge of tears.

“Daddy?”

“He’s working, sweetheart. Remember?” You coo on your knees in front of her. You’re quick to redirect her. “I like your shoes.”

The sniffles stop as she glances down at her white sneakers. “Mine…” she takes a hesitant step back, mistaking your compliment as an attempt to swindle her out of them.

“That’s right,” you laugh, “they’re so pretty, just like you.”

She blinks at you for a moment, and then begins stomping her little foot: heel first. When she’s finally able to kick off her left shoe, she bends all the way over, pressing her palms flat against the hardwood floor. It’s the most uncoordinated way you’ve ever seen anyone pick something up.

Without warning, Yul throws the shoe across the room. Well, that had been her intention, you assume. She had cocked her arm back too far and released too early, making it land behind her.

Oh no, she hates you.

With an excited grunt and a bounce, Yul points to the sneaker—its clear sole sparkling pink and purple.

“Oh,” you sigh in relief. “They light up?”

“Yesh.” Plopping right onto her butt, she takes the other one off, repeating the process. “Like this!” Her arms stretch out and she clenches her two little front teeth, executing the most stellar charade of a light you’ve ever seen.

It’s a small breakthrough, but you’ll take it.

Then you paint her nails, just like you said you would. She’s as patient as a toddler could be, but her tiny toe keeps curling under the tickle of the brush, making pink polish bleed outside of the lines.

“My goodness,” you groan, admiring the messy, albeit adorable, result. “You’re so cute! Wait until your dad sees you.”

Yul shrieks wildly, smacking both hands over her mouth as she hobbles to her feet. You watch with confused giggles as the milk-drunk baby stumbles down the corridor. You figure out where she's going too late.

Yul stands on her tippy toes, jumping to click open the door to Jungkook’s office with a loud creak.

“Yul!” You whisper-shout. “Don’t-”

“Daddy!” She calls, stepping a single foot into the room, showing off the fresh paint job. “So cute!”

Literally, your only job today was to keep Yul preoccupied while Jungkook worked, and you failed. Your breath catches in your throat, awaiting his response.

“So pretty,” he gasps, “now go play, baby. I’m almost done.”

A relieved exhale flies past your lips.

Something you’ve picked up on from years of babysitting is that little girls aren’t allowed to compliment themselves. They’re always told it’s rude or conceited. Jungkook does neither, and you find that so refreshing.

“Close the door, please,” he orders before she runs away, “gently.” Yul does her very best to shut the door quietly and then sprints back to you.

The next few hours go smoothly. You discovered that the green-hating toddler has an affinity for avocados after giving her a bite of your toast. “Mmm!” She had hummed, looking at you with wide eyes. With a full belly and squishmallow in hand, Yul went out like a light for her afternoon nap, giving you time to catch up on some reading.

“How was she?” You didn’t even hear him come out of his office, so the deep voice makes you jump, eyes tracking the sound. He’s leaning against a kitchen counter, one tattooed hand stuffed in his pocket and the other wrapped around a water bottle. It’s a thick one too, and his fingers still touch.

“Better,” you cough, “she’s sleeping now.”

He hums halfheartedly, dark irises boring into you as he takes a sip. Without Yul to soften the edges, Jungkook is… intimidating, to say the least. “What are you reading?”

“The Catcher in the Rye…” you peep, quickly closing it. “I know, it’s kinda lame.”

“No, not lame at all. Anyone who thinks that is lying to themselves… or is just being a contrarian.” He leans his elbows against the dark granite island, fingers crossing as he stares at you. You’re sitting idle across the room, but his presence looms over you. He has this way of making you feel like he’s in your head, listening to everything you’re thinking.

You pray he’s not. If he is, you'll definitely be fired.

“I can’t tell which one you are yet.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but the ‘yet’ makes you come clean, shifting in your spot on the leather couch. “... Both.”

“Right,” he smirks, tongue fiddling with his lip ring, almost like he’s taunting you. “That’s one of my favorite books, actually. I relate to it in many ways.”

Your fingers dance across the red cover, concealing hundreds of pages of isolation, emptiness, and the heavy dread of passing time. What an awful thing to relate to. Sometimes, when you get too engrossed in the text, glimmers of yourself bleed within the lines too.

“You’re an English major, right?”

“Oh, um, I’m not in school at the moment… I just read for fun.”

“Well, you have an Associate’s degree.” Him knowing that information about you makes you think he asked the previous question with the intention of baiting you into this conversation. “Why not get your Bachelor’s?”

“I don’t know. It’s… complicated.”

Why is he interrogating you? What does he want? For you to confess that the fear of becoming a full-fledged adult makes you not want to go back to college?

“Life is complicated. You’d be ridiculous to not go back.” The audacity should make you mad, but he speaks with so much authority that you’re dumbfounded. His head tilts, eyes squinting as they shift to the ceiling, debating something. His tongue clicks when he finally makes his decision. “Follow me; I have something I want to show you.”

With the curl of two thick fingers, Jungkook calls you to follow him down the hallway. You blink for a moment, gushing at the suggestive motion of his hand. Shaking your head at the evil, intrusive thought, you rise to your feet.

Just like a child, you have to skip to catch up to his long strides. Your gaze trails along white walls; there are pictures of him and Yul, Yul and Seulgi, but not a single one of them all together.

Now that you think about it, any affection you’ve ever seen in the household was reserved for Yul and Yul only. Seems like trouble in paradise…

You shouldn’t speculate.

The heavy wooden door creaks as Jungkook holds it open for you. You’re not sure what you expected his room to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. The rest of the house is pretty modern, consisting of sleek blacks, whites, and woods. Countertops designed with icy swirled marble. Everything has this cold, impersonal vibe, but this room is the total opposite. The walls are baby blue, decorated top to bottom with dreamy clouds. You spot a chubby yellow star peeking out from underneath one of them, adorned with a hand-painted smiley face. On his nightstand, there’s a pastel purple foldable record player. Standing behind it is a single vinyl: Beautiful Boy by John Lennon.

“Since you like to read,” Jungkook coughs, turning your attention to a sleek bookcase, stuffed to the brim with hundreds of titles you’ve never even heard of. “I figured you’d appreciate my collection.”

“Yeah, it’s…” The words trail off as you step forward. On a whim, your finger extends, tracing the delicate spine of a well-loved book. A low chuckle brings you back to reality; you peep, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you yank your hand away. “It’s… really cool.”

“You can borrow something if you’d like. Does anything catch your eye?” Plopping down onto the computer chair, Jungkook rummages through his desk drawer and pulls out a tiny black case. You didn’t even know he wore glasses, and when he nudges them comfily onto the bridge of his nose, you nearly melt. As if he could get any more attractive.

“N-No,” you stutter as he wheels closer. Even though you’re towering over him, you still feel so small in his presence. You pray to God he can’t sense how incredibly nervous he makes you. “Not really.”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know,” he hums, low and sly. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No!” You peep in shock. Is the man a fucking mindreader?

“Right.” Jungkook peers over the rim of his lenses, dark eyes glimmering in the whimsical glow of the room. “So __, what do you want to be?”

“A teacher,” you say, playing with your fingers.

“My wife wanted to be a teacher, too.” He shoots you the softest, gentlest smile. “She ended up doing business instead.”

“Why?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You don’t mean to pry, but this is the first time you’ve ever actually talked to him in a meaningful way. Something about him intrigues you, like a puzzle you’re determined to find all the pieces to.

“Ah, well,” he sighs, inked fingers scratching at the back of his neck. “We figured it’d be best for our family if we both pursued more lucrative career paths. I switched my major from English to finance.” You light up at the confession, the similarity putting you at ease. “I’m sorry if I was abrasive earlier,” he frowns, “I settled down young and had to sacrifice a lot, so I encourage you to go for something that fulfills you.” With his elbows on his knees, he leans closer to you. “I think you’d be a fantastic teacher. You take care of my daughter well.”

“Thank you,” you peep, cheeks heating up at the compliment. “I mean… you didn’t have Yul that young.” He tried to comfort you, so it’s only fair you do the same, right? “I think your late twenties are a great time to have children.”

Almost immediately, his face drops, eyes glazing over with something so raw. So… longing. You’ve never seen anything like it before. The corners of his nose twitch before he composes himself. “Yeah, I suppose they are.” His pink tongue toys with his lip ring, swiftly changing the subject. “You seem surprised.”

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting all this.”

“Expecting what?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh clumsily, “books.” You mentally curse yourself as soon as the answer comes out. Really, __? Books?

“What?” He starts, raising a brow at you. “You thought I couldn’t read?”

Thankfully, Jungkook takes your comment playfully.

“Maybe,” you respond in the same lighthearted manner, feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence, “I also didn’t expect your room to look like a little boy’s room.”

All of the cheerfulness in the air evaporates as Jungkook glares at you with a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. Cleary irate. You’ve triggered a landmine.

“Jungkook, I’m-”

“Stop talking.” He raises a hand, cutting you off before you finish the sentence. Turning his back to you, he wheels over to his desk. “You can leave. You’re done for the day.”

Looking back, you know why he was so upset that day. You had put the puzzle pieces together a while ago. You’re unsure of the details, and asking for them feels wrong. Silence feels wrong, too, though. Until now, you’ve never dared to speak up.

You have no idea how to navigate something of this magnitude, but you just want him to know that you’re here. That you’re trying.

Cautiously, with your hand still on the tattoo, you whisper: “He must’ve been so beautiful, Jungkook…”

The thumb that had been drawing soft shapes into your side comes to an eerie pause as he freezes under you. When you look at him, your heart shatters. His chin is caved in with little dents, eyes glazed over with so much emotion. You’ve never seen a human being look so broken.

“Get off me.”

You frown at the shift in his demeanor. “Why?”

Remaining tight-lipped, Jungkook physically removes you from his lap, dumping you onto the seat next to him.

“Why can’t we ever talk about anything serious?”

He remains quiet as he slides his underwear up, not sparing you a single glance. When he speaks, his tone is painfully detached. “Like what?”

“Like what you said,” you answer curtly.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Shaking his head with a cynical chuckle, he begins buttoning his pants, pretending you don’t exist. Like you’re not right beside him, falling to pieces.

Your eyes dart to the ceiling, lashes fluttering rapidly as you mull over what to say next. You guess now would be an appropriate time to ask him what you’ve wanted for weeks. Blinking does nothing to combat your unshed tears when you realize that his answer has the potential to destroy everything you’ve been dreaming about. Everything you’ve hoped for. “When are you going to leave her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, Jungkook!” Shaking your head furiously, you feel the first hints of anger in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “I’m not! I see the way you look at me!”

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Huh?” Finally, he’s paying attention to you, just not in the way you hoped. His face is beet red as he leans closer. “Don’t tell me you actually thought we were going to end up together, __. Seriously? You’re my babysitter! You’re seven years younger than me! This isn’t some fucking fairytale; it’s life! There’s no such thing as happily-ever-afters—grow up and stop acting like a damn child!”

“No, Jungkook,” you croak, fully sobbing as you push an angry finger into his chest. “You’re the one who’s acting childish! I may not be the most mature person, but at least I know how to accept love!”

“So let’s say I divorce my wife, then what? Huh?” He seethes. “I get partial custody? I only see Yul on weekends? Every other week? She grows up in a broken home? I refuse to ruin my daughter’s life like that.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes shifting to the car floor, the air fresher on his mirror, the window. Anywhere but him. The way Jungkook explains your make-believe future together is nothing how you envisioned it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s just a fucking asshole. Neither thought process eases the pain.

“But you’re okay with ruining mine?”

For a moment, his features soften, and you see a glimmer of guilt wash over him. It fizzles out just as fast as it came. “You’re being dramatic.” Jungkook steps outside, tucking his shirt into his pants. “Get dressed.”

With jittery hands and blurry eyes, you grab your discarded lace bra, the one you had bought just for tonight, and slide it on your shoulders. When you pick your shirt up, you see that it’s ripped and tattered. Completely destroyed.

“Here,” Jungkook mumbles, tossing you his blazer as he watches you in the rearview.

Once you’re dressed, you awkwardly slide into the passenger seat. The scent of his cologne makes your head pound and your stomach flip.

“I want to go home.”

His lips part, preparing to persuade you otherwise. The hotel room he booked is ready and waiting, just as it is every Friday. He decides against it, simply murmuring an ‘okay’ before putting the keys in the ignition and starting the engine.

“Do you want to get something to eat before I drop you off?”

You just want your dad.

“I just want to go home.”

Other than the whoosh of splashing puddles and your soft sniffles, the ride to your house is painfully silent. Leaning your head against the window, you watch the moon. For miles and miles, it never changes. It’s stagnant, frozen in time, surrounded by nothing but endless blackness.

“Stop crying! I can’t stand it anymore!” Jungkook shouts, hitting the steering wheel with his open palm, finally growing uncomfortable from your non-stop tears. The sudden outburst makes you flinch. Sighing heavily, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Just… stop crying, please.”

You sink further into your seat, curling your lips into your mouth to suppress a sob.

“I’m not worth your tears, __.”

You feel nothing but relief when he finally turns onto your street, stopping all the way at the end, concealed by the night and the shadows of overhanging trees.

“Am I picking you up next Friday?” He asks just before you leave.

With raw cheeks and a scowl, you slam the door in his face.

Your feet are so heavy that the sidewalk sinks under you like quicksand. No matter how many steps you take, the comfort of your house seems out of reach. Too far gone. Confusion weighs on your shoulders. You should feel proud, empowered even, but that voice in the back of your mind smothers any sense of relief.

Deep down, you know this isn’t going to be the last weekend you spend with Jungkook.

#bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook angst #btshoneyhive

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