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cruzrogue · 3 years

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Broken

Ch1 (an olicity AU story.)

It’s a cloudy miserable noon with a chance of rain. So far today nothing has gone her way. Finding herself grabbing another coffee because the first one was full of grinds. The only perk of her job is endless bagels and mediocre coffee.

Her sigh remnants through the small breakroom. Mumbling to herself, “You’d think a multi-billion-dollar company could afford better coffee.”

The only other occupant in the room snorts, “They wouldn’t make so much money if they gave their slaves… I mean employees premium coffee.”

“I Guess.” Placing enough sugar and cream in her cup. She deserves this. Especially being free from a call she finished up where a Queen Consolidated employee who seemed to be locked out of their computer had such a terrible attitude.

She had dreams. Aspirations. They all vanished when her boyfriend was lost somewhere in the Northern China Sea.

“It looks like it is going to rain hard soon.”

“I hate rain.” Her eyes move from the small tv showing a weather update to the overhead windows. The sky is getting darker by the second.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned it was a rainy night when you and your boyfriend got into a fight. He left and never returned.”

Felicity stares at him. She’s never told anyone the full story.

“Yea, something like that.”

Her life has changed dramatically in the last few years. To be clear. It’s been five years since her heart was ripped out from her chest.

“What a deadbeat.” Her coworker keeps going, “Wasn’t he the father of your three kiddos?”

“I better get back to my cube.” Pointing to her work area, “See you around Cooper.” She doesn’t wait for his own goodbye as she hightails it out of there.

Single moms aren’t his thing. It doesn’t stop Cooper from checking out her nice legs. She’s one of those MILFs he’d wouldn’t mind one night with. No strings attached kind of way. Too bad she’s pegged down with three kids.

As the breakroom is now void of anyone viewing the broadcast. Headlines appear. Oliver Queen has been found. After his five-years of being considered dead. He will be coming home. To reunite with his family.

Moira Queen face appears on screen, “It is a miracle with that of my young daughter’s prayers were answered.” She appears to hold back tears of joy. The camera than pans to the man by her side. Under his picture the viewers are reminded about his amnesia. How his bodyguard pulled him out of the turbulent water to a life raft.

Robert Queen has a few words, “My son is alive. After all these years of mourning. There is nothing worse than waking up not remembering anything that transpired. It has been my greatest failure as a father. I get a second chance. My boy is alive.”

The station airs a few more minutes of a recap of the Queen tragedy before the headline repeats its saying, ‘Oliver Queen has been found… Alive!’

As the hard rain begins to pellet against the building.

Felicity’s glancing at a photo of her three munchkins. Oliver was such a hands-on dad. Their first pregnancy was accidental. Their second was totally planned. Their third, well… she was alone for that one. His voyage with his father resulted in his death.

Life has a funny way of working out.

What does it matter that she was a prodigy child? At fourteen she was admitted to M.I.T. Her brain revered. Still is. It’s just… She doesn’t have passion to continue with her once upon a time active goal.

Losing Oliver was a knife to her zeal to conquer the technical world. Without his support she’s withered away in a gloomy existence. Somehow pushing forward due to motherhood. Seeing a piece of him in each of their children.

All it took was an eighteen-year-old boy to break her full academic resolve. She fell in love at first sight. It took awhile to become lovers because of her age. It didn’t stop them from spending each free moment together. Learning, appreciating, falling deeper, and the respect was always there. That when their bodies shared a special dance that carried them forward to wanting a life to be forever bound.

The most bizarre thing in all this. His parents didn’t approve of his affiliation with a minor back during their college years. They kept their relationship a secret. With the quarrel that led to Oliver giving her some space she felt to guilty to approach his family. They just lost their son.

Even though her babies are a joyful creation. If Oliver’s parents didn’t accept her in the past. She doesn’t ever want an eternal battle of custody. Powerful people have ways to win against dreamers like her.

To many people it is unfathomable that she’d keep the lineage of her children hidden. Maybe one day. When her kids are old enough to understand. For now, it is a secret that she carries.

It takes her stomach to growl to even leave her post. Maybe a bagel will suffice until quitting time. Moving past some coworkers who seem to be gathered around animatedly gossiping. It takes a name to stop her in her tracks.

“What?”

“You haven’t heard?”

She shakes her head no, “Heard what?”

“The boss man’s son has returned.”

“What?” She shakes her head. Why is this conversation not making any sense to her, “Who?”

A name yet to be supplied but a few coworkers point to the breakroom.

“It’s all over the news.”

Felicity doesn’t wait. Hearing Oliver’s name once was enough to have her in a daze. She makes it to the room and any hunger she had seems to be forgotten. Her eyes scanning the headlines. Her world is spun upside down or is it right side up? It doesn’t take long as her head spins all the new information. Her Oliver is alive.

“He’s alive!” She can’t contain how much hearing this is just so overwhelming, “He’s coming home.” Hearing some voices agree that he is coming back to Starling City. She would find it amusing if the voices didn’t drown away as a dizziness overtakes her. Falling. Falling upon the carpeted floor. Not hearing the same voices sounding panicked.

“Felicity?”

Her name again said out loud. To be answered by a moan.

“Ms. Smoak?”

Felicity doesn’t want to open her eyes. It’s a harsh light waiting for her. Squinting she tries to cooperate with the voice.

“Welcome back. You had us all worried.”

“I’m okay.”

“There is an ambulance on the way.”

“No. No need.” Is mumbled out. “I’ll be okay.”

“Ms. Smoak, it is policy to make sure you are alright. I’ll give you some forms and they’ll need to be filled out before you can return to work.”

“Okay.” Is softly spoken. Felicity feels lightheaded. She just hallucinated that her boyfriend is alive. Maybe it purgatory. Even though she doesn’t believe in purgatory. It is the hellish state to want him back so bad. Their last words said of anger. She’s already exhausted every nightmare trying to make things right.

“Alright then. They’re here. Please remain seated I’m just going to handle their arrival.”

The woman leaves Felicity alone in what seems to be an examination room. Afraid to pass out again she remains seated. This has never happened before. Fainting by wanting something so bad. Crying her eyes out. Crying to the point of exhaustion. Now that is something she knows of well.

How will she explain to the medical professional she passed out thinking the love of her life miraculously came back to her. Just out of the blue she’s so overemotional. Thinking about a man for the longest time. Didn’t believe was gone. How cruel is her mind? That when she finally admits he is never coming back. She’d have an episode.

Across the city at Starling General. Oliver Queen is being checked out. His family insistent that he have a medical professional make sure he is truly fine. The media is playing that he has been found and is awaiting extradition out of the US Embassy in China. The truth of the matter is he was found days ago. He silently made it back states side early this morning. He has yet to see his parents. Glad to know his father is alright.

He is anxious.

What he wants... no what he needs is to know of his children. Know how Felicity is? Five years is a long time. The fear that has taken so many dreaded nights. Did he lose her? Their last words to each other harsh.

Is their another raising his children? His parents unaware of their grandchildren. His mind going all over the place. On the trip before that horrifying night. Oliver told his dad about his granddaughters. Of how he felt about another little one on the way. He was ecstatic.

At first, he kept his relationship from his parents because they weren’t keen on him courting a minor. They wouldn’t believe him if he were to say they never consummated their love until she was ready. He understood the ramifications society holds. Yet, age between them was just numbers. It’s not like he was a party boy like his high school self.

Meeting the blued eyed prodigy. He was quickly under her spell.

He regrets that he kept his growing family a secret. His love for Felicity should have never been under wraps. The moment they graduated from their prestigious schools. He should have pushed. Should have fallen on one knee and asked her to be his bride. Should have not listened to her newest reasons that she wanted to succeed without his family’s help.

Understanding that his father and a few of the crew made it out alive. He was pushed out on the wreckage further away. That when the storm calmed, he was already halfway to purgatory. His father’s amnesia keeping both sides of his family from connecting.

His thoughts are on his kids. Two he helped name. One he wonders if he has another sweet daughter or a little boy. Are they healthy? Doing well? His little Maple she’d be about seven of age. Ava would be five. His youngest almost four.

His youngest. Every thought that comes about is agonizing.

Felicity didn’t have him to lean on. Which means she either was alone or another somebody took his place. It guts him to even picture his young children calling someone else daddy.

Five years. Five years in turmoil.

He’s back. He’ll find his family. No matter what. He’ll apologize to Felicity over and over until she knows those angry words were of a silly man being hurt.

Now he waits. Looking out of a hospital window. Waiting for familiar voices to come and claim their lost child. He needs this as much as they will. To be home. To be among those he loves. He missed so much. So much time lost.

He can feel the yearning come tenfold as a familiar voice is heard behind the hospital door of his room.

#Broken #olicity #oliver queen #felicity smoak

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hopeless-lovex0 · 4 years

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I HAVE A DREAM (PART 18)

( San Ending )

Kim Hongjoong Fanfic

Warning: Angst. Cheating. Heartbreak. Cursing. Fluff.

Alas we are on the Finale of I Have A Dream!!! I honestly loved writing this story so much and I’m incredibly happy and thankful that people actually took time to read it so this final chapter goes out to everyone who has liked, shared or read in general I Have A Dream ❤️ Without further ado I hope you guys enjoy the option of choosing your own ending, I hope you guys enjoyed I Have A Dream. With much love Lizzie x 🥰❤️

Taking care of a 3 week old baby was sure a hard task, the loud wails of the little one resonating around the dimly lit apartment. Y/N was glad that Youngji decided to stay over at his friends house, or else she knew he would have a hard time falling asleep with Jongho making so much noise. It's not that Youngji minded, if anything he would be the first one up in the middle of the night feeding Jongho if Y/N was too tired, he would also help change him if Y/N was busy with something else.

Y/N was extremely grateful for her brother, Youngji always cuddling Jongho the best he could, also taking great care of Y/N when she felt like the constant hours of sleep she lost where taking a tool on her body. Youngji loved his sister very much, he also loved his nephew Jongho as well, but even he felt like he was doing so little to help her.

So he took matter into his own hands and requested help from someone he knew would never think about saying no, especially when it came to his sister and the recent family addition. San was more than willing to help Y/N around the apartment, constantly dotting over her and Jongho if they ever needed something. He didn't seem to mind either, helping Y/N with Jongho with a big smile on his face, Youngji swears he even heard San whispers Dad of the year to himself while he was carefully changing Jongho's dirty onesie.

Y/N felt like they were doing too much, the guys constantly following right behind her, eager to help and it made her feel like she was taking advantage of San's sweet nature and her brother's overprotective actions. She wanted to learn and grow as a mother by herself, but now more than ever did she miss the extra pair of hands helping lull Jongho to sleep.

The circular clock hanging over the kitchen entrance read 2:47 AM, Jongho first started crying around 12. It was nearing the third hour and Y/N had only managed to subside his desperate cries just a little. She had tried everything she could think of, he wasn't hungry as he rejected being breastfed, he also didn't need a diaper change as Y/N had checked more than 3 times.

Y/N could slowly feel herself crack as the minutes ticked by, swaying her body and humming under her breath to help Jongho sleep but he just kept on crying. " Please baby... Just go to sleep! I dont know what's wrong.." Y/N whispered to Jongho, feeling tears well up in her sunken eyes as she struggled to help her baby calm down.

The sudden knock on the door snapped her attention from her crying new born, anxiety shooting off the roof when she thinks about her brother's neighbors coming over and complaining about the noise. Walking up to the door with a crying baby in her arms, Y/N begins to give herself a little pep talk, fully preparing herself to see her brother's angry bald neighbor in his pijamas screaming at her for the noise.

Opening the door, she expected the bald neighbor to start complaining but to her surprised a panting, what appered to be a freshly showered San was hunched right in front of her at 3 in the morning. Y/N gaped at him as he quickly stood straight and walked into the apartment, closing the door behind him then turning back towards Y/N, greeting her with a sheepish smile.

" Wha.. What are you doing here..?" Y/N questions, standing there with a dumbstruck look on her face. " Youngji texted me saying that you might be having some trouble putting Jongho to sleep so I decided to come and help." San explains, as if its the most simple thing in the world for him to appear in the middle of the night, especially when he was an idol. " Why do you say that so casually?! Won't you get in trouble with the manager? What about your schedule for tomorrow! You need to go back!" She begins to panic, causing Jongho's cries to grow in volume again.

San then takes a moment to actually study Y/N closely, her pijamas wrinkled as if she got out of bed in a rush, face pale and eyes sucken with dark bags under them to show the lack of sleep she has been getting. Walking up to her, he gently takes Jongho out of Y/N's arms and then takes one of her hands, leading them towards Y/N's room where Jongho's crib is placed. Y/N can't help but gasp out in surprise, the moment Jongho was taken from her arms and placed on San's muscular ones Jongho loud cries had gone down from loud wailing to quiet whimpers.

" How did you...?" She begins to question before her voice dies off, Jongho now completely quiet as he continues to snuggle in San's arms. " I don't know how you do that." She sighs out, throwing herself on her bed and letting San deal with Jongho as he seems to be doing better than her.

" Do what? Get him to quiet down?" He questions, Y/N humming back at him in response. " I really don't know.. Maybe we formed a bond the minute he was born." He smugly says, causing Y/N to snort out in annoyence. " I'm his mother and I can't even get him to sleep, what kind of mother can't even put her baby to sleep." Y/N whispers out, face twisted in a frown when she talks about her lack of knowledge on her own flesh and blood.

San seems to notice her negative attitude towards herself, sitting himself down by Y/N's head, bringing his hand up and flicking her forehead. Y/N jumps up, bringing her hands up and wincing in pain as she begins to rub the red spot appering on her skin. " What was that for!!!" Y/N harshly whispers at him, glaring at him for his sudden action. " You don't give yourself enough credit." San tells her, Y/N saying huh in confusion.

" There's so many things that you do for this little guy. He finds so much comfort in you and you don’t seem to notice just how much you do for him. You're not a bad mother just because you can't seem to get him to sleep, it'll happen once in a while." San finishes off, patting Y/N's head as she listens to San compliment her. " How do you know what to say too! Like I swear it's like we've been together for years." Y/N whines out, causing San to blush at her words though she doesn't seem to notice as her eyes begin to drop.

" Go to sleep idiot, I can tell Jongho has been keeping you up and it's not healthy to deprive yourself of sleep." He says, getting up from the bed and pulling the covers off so that Y/N can slip in easier. " What about you? I can't just leave you to deal with Jongho all by yourself." Y/N slurs out, already feeling herself falling into a deep sleep.

" I'll wait till he's completely asleep, and then head out. Don't worry, I don't mind taking care of him at all." He says, although he doesn't think Y/N caught all of it as she seems to be out like light before he's able to finish talking. Shaking his head, he lets out a chuckle and turns his attention to Jongho currently knocked out on his chest. " You and your mommy are just alike huh? But still.. I wouldn't have it any other way." He whispers to Jongho, placing a small kiss on the baby's peach fuzz head.

Walking up to the crib next to the bed, he carefully places Jongho inside it then waits a couple minutes in case he suddenly wakes up crying. Once he knows that Jongho is not going to wake up, he walks towards Y/N and makes sure that she is comfortably tucked in. He softly tucks away some hairs behind her ear, showing her content expression, he feels his stomach burst with billions of butterflies. A loving smile appears on his face without him noticing, leaning down and placing a kiss on her forehead. " You are a great mother, but on the day's where everyhting doens't seem to work out.. I'll be there to pick you up." He whispers out, staring at Y/N for a couple more seconds before finally walkingout the room and towards the entrance, making usre that the door is properly locked he leaves the apartment with a happy smile on his face.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Loud screaming coming from the hallway outside of San's and Yunho's room wakes him up, an annoyed expression coming upon his face when he realizes that it's Wooyoung and Mingi that are screaming their lungs out. Turning over his bed, he squints his eyes against the sunlight pouring in through the windows of his room. He can't really tell what time it is, so he decides to check his phone, the device laying on the floor next to his bed.

Grabbing the fully charged phone, he notices a message from his manager on their group chat, Hongjoong and Seonghwa having answered for the rest of the guys. No practice today, day off. Please, if you plan to go out wear face masks. Don't burn the dorm down and don't kill each other. We need everyone present for schedule. It reads, the rest of the guys apperantly already knowing from how loud they are at 8 in the morning.

Letting out a groan, San begins to wiggle himself out the bed before finally feeling his body drop on the cold wood floor. The covers that dropped on top of his body helping him feel some warmth as the bitter cold of the floor seeps into his pijama covered body. He stays on the floor for a couple minutes, listening to all the ruckus going on behind the bedroom door, occasionaly hearing Yeosang’s soft spoken voice and Seonghwa's scolding coming from further in the dorm towards the kitchen area.

Finally after what seems like an eternity, San reaches into the drawer next to his bed and begins to take out an outfit for the day, not sure if he should go for classy or more casual. He thinks about the various options he has to choose from, what's the point of dressing classy if I'm not doing anything big today. He thinks, moving aside various pairs of jeans and instead taking out a pair of joggers, along with a random t-shirt.

Standing up, he walks up Yunho's side of the room and takes his hat hanging from a hook connected to the wall. Quickly getting dressed, he walks up to the door and throws it open, standing face to face with Wooyoung and Mingi as they seem to stop their fighting. " Seonghwa-Hyung send us to wake you up but since you are already up then we should tell you that he plans on giving Yunho your breakfast if you don't hurry up." Mingi says, pushing Wooyoung's face away when the dancer begins to tickle the friendly giant.

Knowing that Seonghwa doesn't bluff, San pushes through them and runs towards the kitchen screaming Yunho's name as he sees the other giant taking small pieces from San's food. Running up to the middle island, he quickly snatches the bowl of food away from Yunho's prying hands, glaring at him when he notices that he was almost halfway done with the bowl. Grumbling under his breath, he begins to eat what is left of his food, missing the look of amusement Seonghwa is giving him, his lean but built body leaning against the kitchen countertop.

" What are you doing today?" Seonghwa asks San as he continues to wolf down his food, scrunching up his face in disgust from the way San seems to swallow his food all at once. San stays quiet for a couple seconds, giving Seonghwa's questions some thought. Where should I go today? Maybe I can go to the mall with some of the guys? But I want to see Y/N and Jongho again.. Last night was way to short, and I didn't even get to play with Jongho. San thinks to himself, so many things he could do today or how many hours of sleep he could finally get, all of them sounding amazing, but in the end it all comes down to one thing (or in his case 2 people).

" I'm gonna hang out with Y/N today." He says, struggling to get the words out with all the food stuffed inside his mouth. " Swallow your food before you choke, and didn't you see Y/N last night when we got out of pratice?" Seonghwa asks him, turning around and beginning to wash the mountain of dishes they used to make eachother breakfast that morning. Getting up from his chair, San scarffs down the last of his food before putting the plate in the sink, giving Seonghwa a sheepish smile when the older male gives him a nasty glare. " Barely, Jongho was up all night apperently and she couldn't put him to sleep, so I helped her and then a couple minutes after she fell asleep so I didn't really get to talk to her." Explains San, taking a glass cup from the cabinet over his head and filling it with the last bit of orange juice some of the guys left out.

" Poor Y/N, I can tell she's having a hard time adjusting to being a mother, but I'm glad you and Youngji are doing your best to help her." Yunho butts in, walking up to San and taking his glass from him, Seonghwa hums in agreement. " Yeah I agree with you. So If you are visiting Y/N, Don't forget to wear a face mask so people don’t recognize you and tell Y/N that we'll all visit her soon when we have another day off." Seonghwa says, taking the empty glass from Yunho and washing it before they decide to leave it there throughout the rest of the day.

Giving Seonghwa a thumbs up, San runs to his shared room and throws the door open, yelping in surprise when he notices Wooyoung chilling on his bed. " Hey Sannie! What are you doing today? I wanted to buy some new shoes but I don't want to go alone." Wooyoung says, taking one of San's plushies and hugging it close to himself as he watches San take out a pair of socks and shoving them on his feet. " Hey Woo, I actually have plans already. I'm gonna go see Y/N and Jongho since it was way too late last night and they were both tired." San tells him, walking over to his bed and grabbing his bookbag where his wallet and dorm keys are stashed away.

" That's cool, I'll probably ask Yeosang to come with me instead. Also I see you are climbing up the ladder slowly, but surely am I right." Wooyoung teases, giggling to himself as he sees the deadpan look San give him in return. " You deserve to get your phone thrown out the window for saying that." San mumbles out, busying himself with other things as he tries to ignore Wooyoung’s loud squeaky laugh.

" I'm just joking around! Plus what I said was true. I see that you are trying your hardest to get her to like you, and no offense with how much you are doing for her, it'll be pretty bogus if she doesn't choose you in the end." Wooyoung tells him, causing San to stop in his tracks and sigh out. " Whoever she chooses in the end, either way it won't stop me from loving her and doing whatever I can to get her to realize that I can treat her so much better." San finishes off, walking back to the door and exiting with a small wave directed to his loud but nonetheless amazing friend.

He hears Wooyoung yell out a goodbye, snickering to himself when he hears the oldest of the dorm scream at him to shut up. As he walks up to the main entrance he feels the piercing gaze of someone in the living room, chills crepping up his spine when the feeling of being stared at doesn't go away. Turning towards the living room entryway he scans his eyes around the area, his sharp eyes landing on Ateez's leader. The male staring at San with an unreadable expression on his face, fidgeting in his seat as if he is ready to jump off the couch any minute.

Deciding to ignore him, San walks up to the shoe rack and grabs his worn out adidas shoes, slipping them on without a hassle before grabbing his jacket and slipping it on. Digging in his pockets he takes out a black face mask and slips it on, arm reaching towards the handle before a very distraught voice screams out his name causing him to stop in his tracks. Turning around, the last thing he expects to see is a shaking Hongjoong deeply bowing his head to him, face practically almost touching the floor from how deeply he is bowing.

San stares at him in shock, turning towards the rest of the guys as they seemed to gone quiet the moment Hongjoong screamed San's name. He gives them a confused look, the guys shrugging their shoulders letting him know that they also don't know what's going on. " Uhhh... What are you doing?" Questions San, yelping out when Hongjoong suddenly stands back up rapidly. " Please take good care of them." Hongjoong's voice resonates throughout the dorm, everyone else quiet as they watch the scene in front of them.

San is about to question him, but instead gets cut off by Hongjoong's trembling voice. " Y/N and Jongho. I know my chance with Y/N ended when I decided to cheat, so I ask you to please take care of them for me. Jongho needs a good father to raise him, and Y/N needs a good man who will love her better than I could. That man is you." Hongjoong finishes off, harshly wiping away tears from his face as he holds intense eye contact with San. Walking up to him, San pulls Hongjoong in for a hug surprising not only the male currently being forced in a hug but the rest of the guys watching them from the living room and the hallway.

" Y/N already sees you as Jongho's father so don't give me all the credit. I will take good care of them, so you don't need to worry." San says, pulling away from him and patting him on the shoulder, Hongjoong giving him a small smile in thanks. Again turning around, he makes his way over to the door and opens it, yelling out a goodbye to the rest of the guys.

The walk to Youngji's apartment doesn't last that long, and before he knows it, he is standing in front of the same door he was standing in front of just last night. Knocking on it, he waits a couple minutes before the door creaks open, Y/N standing on the other side of it seemingly more awake than last night. They greet each other warmly, Y/N fully opening the door to let the idol in and then quickly closing it so that none of Youngji's neighbors come out of their apartments and try sneaking a look into her brothers.

" Where's Youngji? I noticed he wasn't here last night as well." San questions, walking up to the Jongho's cradling bouncer and picking him up, the new born snuggling onto his warm chest without a fuss. " He stayed at a friends house last night since he got out work late and he didn't want to risk waking Jongho up but as you can tell from last night, he wasn't exactly sleeping." Y/N answers back from her room, voice sounding muffled due to her room being all the way down the hall. She comes back dressed in a pair of black leggings and a loose maroon blouse, cooing to herself when she sees Jongho snuggling San's chest.

They both stand together in silence, Y/N drinking water from a glass cup while staring at San and her baby, San staring at Jongho with a loving look. Sensing her staring, San lifts up his head and stares right back at Y/N causing her to squeak in embarassment. She turns her head away, blushing bright red when she hears San let out a deep chuckle causing Jongho to wake up from his little nap. Y/N prepares herself for the loud cries of her baby to pierce the quiet setting of the apartment but instead stares in awe when she notices that he instead stares at San in wonder.

San makes faces at the baby, causing him to let out little giggles in amusement. Y/N can help but silently swoon at the sight in front of her, she can't help but think that San would make a great father someday. With that thought, her mind begins to drift to various other scenarios of which include San with his own child or better yet, Jongho calling him dad. She thinks back to that day in the hospital when Hongjoong called her out on her feelings for San, and she won't lie that what he said isn't true because it is. Ever since that day when Y/N found San on the dirt road with a sprained ankle, she began to develop feelings for the dimpled man.

All those times he would help her carry bags, bodies brushing against each other causing Y/N's heart rate to spike. She blamed it all on the pregnancy hormones but after her talk with Hongjoong she finally got some time to sit down and think, I really do like him. She is afraid though, the thought of being in a relationship scares her. What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he decides to leave me for someone better? I can't even begin to imagine the pain I would feel if that were to happen again, and now I have a child. I can't be weak! I have to be strong for my baby. She thinks, turning her body away from the scene in front of her so that San won't be able to see her unhappy expression.

San seemed to sense her sudden attitude change, puts Jongho back on his bouncer then walks up to Y/N taking her soft hands in his own. " What's wrong?" He asks her, grabbing her chin and turning her face towards his so that she'll look at him instead. Knowing that she can't lie to save her life, she decided to fess up sighing out when she thinks about what he'll say to her.

" Do you... Do you think I could ever get back in a relationship with someone? Like do you think someone would be willing to date a single mother?" She questions, keeping her eyes down so that he won't see the doubt swimming in her eyes. " Who wouldn't want to be in a relationship with you? You are so amazing Y/N and you fail to see that, If someone doesn't want to be with you because you have an adorable, incredible baby then it's their loss!" San tells her, making sure to keep eye contact with her so she knows that he's telling the truth.

They stare into each others eyes for what seems like an eternity, both of them flushing in embarressment when they notice just how close their faces were. " You once told me you had a dream to have a family of your own. A loving husband and two kids that you could spoil the heck out of. Don't let that dream leave your mind just because Hongjoong cheated on you, It was his mistake not yours. Anyone would be lucky to have you.. I would be lucky to have you.." San whispers out the last bit, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he rubs the back of his neck in nervousness.

He whips his head towards Y/N when her hears her let out a gasp, knowing that she probably heard what he said last. Y/N feels her head start to spin, body warming up when she replays San's words in her head, Don't let Hongjoong's actions affect your future Y/N! It's now or never! Y/N thinks to herself, fist curling up causing her knuckles to turn white.

" I.... I LIKE YOU SAN..." Y/N says, walking away right after so that if San rejects her she won't be able to see it. She failed to see the blush covering San's entire face, his ears and cheeks burning up from the shock and disbelief he was experiencing in that moment. He feels the way his heart is rapidly racing and he hopes that Y/N isn't able to hear how loud it is, but as he turns around he sees that she's distractic herself with Jongho, checking his diaper in case he needed to be changed even thought she had chaged him an hour ago.

He studies her for a couple seconds to see if what she said is true, and from the way she's acting extremely shy he can at least begin to think that YN might like him back. He begins to laugh quietly to himself, Y/N staring at him with wide eyes as his laughing progressively grows louder. Scurrying over to Y/N he pullls her in for a hug, Y/N having to steady herself as she's pratically lifted off the floor.

She feels San's big grin from where he shoved his face between her neck, letting out various giggles as he swings Y/N around making sure that he doesn't hurt her or Jongho by accident. " Do you mean it..?" He whispers out, placing Y/N back down on the ground and putting his hands on her waist as he waits for her to answer him. " I.. I do., I found out a couple days after I left the hospital. I was just to scared to tell you." She says, keeping eye contact with him as best as she can without getting flustered. " You don't have to be scared.. I won't ever hurt you or Jongho, I'll get the guys to beat me up if I ever do." San laughs out, reaching forwards and tucking some hairs behind Y/N's ear as he continues to gaze lovingly at her. " So does this mean you'll give me a chance..?" He continues, nervously playing with her hair as she looks between him and Jongho napping a couple feet away.

She remains quiet for a couple seconds before a smile begins to appear on her face, growing wider and wider as her grip around San grows tighter. ".. Yes.." She whispers out, bringing San in for a small kiss, pulling away when they hear Jongho begin to whine from the lack of attention. They both giggle out, San reaching down and placing another short kiss on Y/N's soft lips before pulling away and attending to his baby.

1 year and a couple months later....

San wakes to a sudden disturbance on the bed, quiet giggling following the sudden movements coming from the right side of the bed, where Y/N usually sleeps. Pulling the covers away from his face, he peeks his eyes over the side of the bed, spotting a small toddler trying to jump on the bed. Throwing the covers away from him, he quickly reaches his arms over and picks up the squealing toddler, throwing himself back into the warm bed with a giggling boy in his arms.

" Where's mommy?" San asks Jongho as he begins to tickle the squirming toddler, Jongho pointing at the hallway leading up to the main area of the apartment. Getting up from the bed, he scoops Jongho into his arms and exits the main room, making faces at Jongho as he walks towards the kitchen where Y/N is currently making breakfast. Putting Jongho down, the toddler runs up to his toys spraddled all over the living room floor. He walks up to an oblivious Y/N, swaying to a tune she's humming as she continues to cook some eggs and pancakes for breakfast.

He snakes his hands on her waist, pulling her up to his body as he gives her exposed shoulder a kiss. He feels Y/N jump and then shudder, the feeling of his lips on her exposed skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. Turning around Y/N slips her arms over his neck, hugging San close to her as he begins to pepper her face with kisses, they both turn their attention to Jongho when he screams out at them. Jongho runs up to San and begins to jump up and down, pounting his lips from the lack of attention he is getting.

Pulling away from Y/N, San leans down and picks up a whining Jongho, attacking him with kisses as well. Jongho begins to giggle again, throwing his hands up and pushing San's face away from his. " No daddy!" The toddler screams out, San's heart swelling with love when he hears Jongho call him dad. " Let's eat breakfast buddy." San tells him, walking up to the dining chair and placing Jongho in it.

He walks up to one of the cabinets and takes out two ceramic plates and a colorful plactic plate for Jongho, walking up to the stove and placing the food on the plates. He watches as Y/N fills up two glasses with orange juice, then filling Jongho's sippy cup with warm milk, the toddler greedily sipping from it. Both adults sit down to eat as well, San keeping close watch on Y/N as she begins to eat slowly. " Do you think it's a stomach bug? We did eat sushi the other day and I swear it tasted funny." San tells her, worried for his girlfriend who has been throwing up for the past week.

" Actually I know what it is." Y/N mumbles out, picking at her food as San looks at her in confusion. " Why don't you go check the drawer next to our bed. I have something for you in there." She tells him, watching as San hesitantly gets up and makes him way back to their shared bedroom. Y/N busy's herself with cleaning the food all over Jongho's face before hearing a shout come from their bedroom.

Thundering footsteps run back to the kitchen, San popping out from the corner holding 4 sticks in his hand. His face shows pure shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish, Jongho pointing at him and giggling in amusement. " Are you playing with me?!" San asks her, walking up to her and shoving the sticks on her face, she gives him a small smile and shakes her head. " I have an appointment next week to make sure, but no I'm not playing with you." Y/N tells him, taking the pregnancy tests from his hands and placing them on the kitchen counter.

" You're pregnant.." San breathes out, pulling Y/N towards him and placing one of his hands on her flat belly. Y/N nods at him, San finally letting his excitement show as he practically starts to jump around the kitchen. He hears Y/N and Jongho giggling together and he immediately turns towards the toddler and picks him up, spinning him around with him while telling him " You're gonna be a big brother Jongho! You're gonna have a brother or a sister." San excitedly tells him, Jongho cheering out even though he doesn't know what going on.

Walking up to Y/N he pulls her for a hug, Jongho stuck in the middle enjoying the hug both parents are giving him.

" Thank you.. Thank you for making me a father again, I love you." San whispers out, pulling in Y/N for a kiss placing a kiss on Jongho's head when he whines out. Y/N giggles to herself, giving Jongho a kiss as well then pulling San in for another.

" I love you.. I love our little family." She tells him, tearing up when she thinks about having another baby with San. San beams at her in return, content with life as he thinks to himself.

She had a dream to have a family of her own, A loving husband and two kids that she can spoils to no ends, and even though we are not married yet, I plan on making her mine forever soon. He thinks back to the velvet box carefully hidden under all his clothes. He can't wait to marry this girl, and live together in their own little house.

Their own little family...

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #kpop angst #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #I Have A Dream

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riverchester · 6 years

Text

Desperate Times - Desperate Measures

Prologue / Chapter 1

also read on ao3

Summary: He does everything to not think of the night that got him into this. No, he won’t think of a mop of dark hair or piercing blue eyes. He won’t think of a gravelly voice or the clinking of glasses. And most definitely, he won’t think of that intoxicating smell or the feeling of his Baby’s leather backseat under his sweaty palms.When Dean Winchester breaks the one rule he swore to never break, he has to bear consequences he never wanted to deal with, and needs to get creative to solve the problem.

Rating: Explicit No Warnings Category: M/M Fandom: Supernatural Relationship: Castiel / Dean Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; One Night Stands; Angst; Fluff; Mpreg; Language: English

Dean stares into the sink. His arms tremble under his weight and his breathe comes out harsh and uneven, but he still stares. As if staring could magically erase this stupid second line. If he’d believe in god, he’d be looking up now, screaming, asking why the hell this is happening to him. Or maybe he’d pray. Maybe he’d plead for a damn miracle. But then again, Dean’s not a religious man, so instead he looks up into the face of the only person responsible for the shit he’s in right now.

His skin looks pale in the mirror. It could be the light, dazzling in the windowless restroom, but Dean knows it isn’t just the light that makes him look like a ghost. It’s his damn screwed-up life. He stares at his reflection for what feels like an eternity, taking in all those hateful features. The hair that doesn’t only look like it hasn’t been washed in days, the skin he’d love nothing better than to scratch from his face right now, and the eyes he can see getting wet.

Dean’s body tenses when he screams at his own face and punches the mirror. He wants to break it, wants to see his reflection shatter into a billion pieces, but it isn’t even glass that his fist hits. It’s just a mirror foil on a wooden board, and the pain shoots through him like a bullet.

At first it feels good, the sharpness and throbbing erase all thoughts for a moment, but of course it doesn’t last. Of course, Dean ends up with an aching hand and still no solution to his problem.

He grabs the pregnancy test and throws it across the room where it hits the ground. Trembling, Dean collapses against the wall and slowly sinks down until he’s curled up next to the trash can, his arms clasping his knees.

Stupid. I’m so fucking stupid.

Resting his forehead on his knees, he closes his eyes. He wants to cry. If there’d ever been a situation where Dean Winchester would’ve allowed himself to cry, it’d be now. But he can’t, the tears won’t come. So instead, he focuses on his breathing and concentrates on the throbbing in his possibly broken hand. He does everything to not think of the night that got him into this. No, he won’t think of a mop of dark hair or piercing blue eyes. He won’t think of a gravelly voice or the clinking of glasses. And most definitely, he won’t think of that intoxicating smell or the feeling of his Baby’s leather backseat under his sweaty palms.

I’m so fucking stupid.

Two weeks earlier

It's a good spot. Away from the hustle and bustle, a bit in the shadow, but still with a good view over the room. Dean watches people gathering in groups around the tables, loudly talking and laughing. He watches some others alone at the bar, flirting with the extremely hot barkeeper, who flutters her eyelashes in return. Dean snorts and shakes his head. Those newbies, only recently escaped from their sheltered homes, have no clue that she's playing them like a fiddle. And instead of music, she brings out tip after tip. This could turn into a great night for making money.

Downing the rest of his drink, Dean stands up and makes his way over to a group that drew his attention a while ago. The three young men caught his eye right away when they entered the bar. Tall, loud, overconfident. Alpha was practically written on their foreheads. The tallest of them, a guy using way too much styling gel and obviously the leader of their little group, made it especially easy to be labeled this night's victim No.1. Dean named him "small-size". With how loudly and detailed the guy bragged about all the chicks he pretends to have banged on a trip through Europe, he definitely has something to compensate for.

So, when small-size and his two friends approach the pool table, Dean takes the chance.

"Hey, can I join in?" he asks, heartily patting one of them on the back.

The trio turns to him, not even trying to hide their scoff about his ragged appearance, and start laughing. "Eh, sorry, I think we're fine," small-size answers.

"Oh, come on," Dean says, this time louder and more slurred, "Just one game." He rummages through his pockets and slams a crumpled bill on the edge of the pool table. "Fifty bucks, classic eight-ball. Whatcha say?”

But despite this – in his opinion – very convincing demonstration, the three guys still eye him warily and exchange glances.

Damn, I guess I've got to bring in the big guns

"Come on," he tries again, leaning closer to small-size, "don’t think you can handle playing against an omega?" Dean lays his arm around the guy’s shoulders while he slurs, making sure the alpha is close enough to scent him. It takes a moment, in which the tall man stares right back into Dean’s eyes and his nostrils twitch, but eventually, he can see the guy's expression shift. Bingo. Playing the omega card always works.

Dean usually puts a lot of effort into hiding his secondary gender. Scent neutralizing soap lets him pass as a Beta easily, and thanks to suppressants from the blackmarket, he hasn't been in heat in over two years. They're expensive as fuck, and probably full of shit that'll kill him sooner or later, but as long as they work, he doesn't care.

"Grab yourself a cue." Small-size says, grinning in this disgustingly superior way. God, Dean hates this overconfident alpha-demeanor and he would love nothing more than to punch the guy. But he's got to earn money, so he plays his part.

"You serious, Brad?" one of the other two proles asks.

Dean has to hold back a laugh. Of course his name is Brad.

He sets up the balls, takes the break shot and starts playing this idiot. Like ninety-nine percent of the freshmen jocks he usually cleans out, Brad isn’t bad at pool, but definitely not even half as good as he thinks he is. The trap is set up and he walks right into it.

This first game is always nearly as much fun as winning in the end, when Dean can see the poor idiot’s ego boost with every shot. Over the years he kind of perfectionated this part. Failing without being too obvious. Turns out, Dean can be a damn good actor if he wants to be.

"Fuck," Dean yells when the eight sinks into the pocket, "okay, you win."

Brad calls out triumphantly and high fives his buddies before grabbing for the hundred dollars.

"Whoa, stop," Dean shouts, effectively stopping the alpha dead in his track, "come on, I call return game." He dramatically digs into every of his jeans' and jacket's pockets, pulling out another crumpled bill. "All or nothing."

The alpha and his friends look down at the additional fifty bucks and start laughing. "Why are male omegas just so damn stupid?"

“Hey, you wanna talk or play?”

Brad winks and pulls his wallet out again, but before he has a chance to place down his money, someone clearing their throat catches his and Dean’s attention. The interrupter is a dark-haired guy, maybe an inch or two smaller than himself, with insanely blue eyes, confidently looking between the two of them.

Dean chuckles. Who would ever consider wearing a suit in a college bar?

“You want anything?” Brad asks the guy.

“Do you find it acceptable to take advantage of a drunken omega?” Mr. Dark-hair answers.

Dean can’t believe this guy’s nerve. “Excuse me?” he starts, but this suited up alpha apparently isn’t finished yet and continues without as much as looking at Dean.

“I watched this game for quite some time now and I came to the conclusion that you unfairly play on this man. You should never have agreed to a game with a drunken person, even less with someone from the weaker sex. I’m afraid I can’t let you continue this.”

He might have admired the guys bravery to go against three bigger alphas, but in this moment, Dean is nothing but pissed off. “What the hell?” he yells and shoves the guy away. “Mind your own business!”

Obviously startled, Mr. Dark-hair takes a step back, but keeps his posture. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a fair game.”

Shut the fuck up! Dean starts getting angry. If this guy doesn’t stop interrupting, he might ruin this whole evening. And Dean needs the money.

“Who cares? I wanna have fun and I don’t need a baby sitter.” He locks eyes with the man and breathes heavily.

After a moment, Dean hears Brad laughing to his right. “Whatcha say to that guys? Looks like we have a real feisty omega here.” The alpha turns to the dark-haired guy and straightens to show off his full height. “I’d say it’s time for you to back off now. Go and find someone else to lecture.”

Dean sighs in relief when the guy takes one last glance at him but then finally turns around. That was close.

“Come on, you set up,” Brad says, “One game, but only ‘cause I like you.” He winks and Dean has the urge to puke.

The alpha puts his money down and adds another fifty-dollar bill. “I’m a generous man.”

Thank god this guy’s ego is as huge as the Chrysler building.

Sometimes, Dean wishes he could record this. The moment when people like Brad realize it’s not going to be an easy game. When they start to make an effort, and especially when they catch on with the inevitable fact of losing. Against an omega. Confusion, disbelief, anger; he’s seen it all, and he basks in it. Unfortunately, Dean basks in the victory too much at times and forgets that his counterpart is an alpha, a group of people not exactly known for handling it well to lose.

“Ha! Pay up, sucker!” Dean immediately grabs the money and puts it in his back pocket, all the while keeping his eyes on Brad and his buddies. Their shocked expressions are just too good to look away.

He is about to place the cue back on the rack, when both of his wrists are being grabbed tightly. Dean saw this coming, but the immense strength of three angry alphas is still too much. His head knocks against the wall, effectively making his ears ring and his vision blur.

“Who do you think you are, huh?” Brad hisses, closer than Dean would’ve liked.

Shit, I should’ve been more careful.

“Come on, Brad. Don’t be a bad loser. I bet your daddy gives you your money back,” he huffs. It doesn’t come out half as confidently as he intended.

The grip around his wrists tightens, shooting a nagging pain up his arms. Brad’s reek fills the air and Dean has to cough. This isn’t good.

He expects the first punch to go to his face and already closes his eyes, but it goes to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. Dean doubles over, feeling his muscles close up. He doesn’t even have time to take a shaky breath before the pain of a second punch shoots through him. And there it is, right on the jaw.

Shit, this won’t help with making money the next days.

His instinct screams at him to fight back, his mind does too, but Dean is trapped, hurting, and he can do nothing but wait for the third punch.

Which doesn’t come.

“Let him go,” says a strong, deep voice. Dean opens his eyes again and watches the dark-haired alpha from earlier coming his way with long, determined steps. Well, he’s kind of glad to see this guy now.

Brad and his fellows of dickheads actually loosen their grip on Dean’s arms, who slumps to the ground and watches the whole scenery from below. He wishes the guy good luck and hopes he can somehow escape in the upcoming turmoil.

“I already told you once to mind your own – ” Brad didn’t see the fist coming that quite effectively stopped his speech, but in his defense, neither did Dean.

Ooh, right on the button. He has to admit that he’d never thought this suited-up guy had the guts or the strength to pull a stunt like that. But the gratification of seeing Brad’s bleeding nose doesn’t last for long. The bouncer clears out the trouble within minutes, seizing all of them by the collar and throwing them out. For a moment, Dean thinks Brad and his friends might try to go on at him again, so he broads his stance, but the three alphas seem to have enough and drive off in a ridiculous sports car.

Just then does Dean realize how cold it is. He freezes in his light Henley. And with the adrenaline slowly fading from his body, the pain in his arms, his stomach and jaw become more prominent.

“Shit,” he sighs while collapsing against the brick wall of the bar. His leather jacket isn’t warm enough to shield him from the ice-cold wind. He breathes in and rests his head on the wall, closing his eyes. This was not planned, not at all. With a swift grasp into his back pocket, he makes sure that the money is still save there, then starts to laugh. Not planned, but highly profitable.

“Are you cold?”

Dean opens his eyes again and looks at two shining blue orbs staring at him through the dim light of the street lamp. The dark-haired guy presses one hand to his chest while the other holds a coat in Dean’s direction. Seriously? What’s the matter with this guy? He shakes his head, but keeps his glance focused.

They stay like this for another moment, before a gust of wind makes Dean shiver. He clasps his arms around his upper body, searching for any way to keep warm, but the movement makes him flinch in pain. He needs to get to his car. He probably has a hoody somewhere that doesn’t reek yet.

“Here, take at least this.” The alpha carefully throws a soft scarf around Dean’s neck. It’s still warm from body heat and Dean indulges in the comfort. He should say thank you. Not only for the scarf, but also for saving him from Brad and the others. He knows he should, but on the other hand, he didn’t ask for help, he didn’t ask this weird guy to bust in and behave like a damn knight in shining armor.

“Thanks, but I’m gonna go now,” he murmurs barely audible, hands the comforter back and turns around to follow a dark alley to where he parked his baby. After a few steps, he notices that he’s still not alone and turns around. “What’s your problem?”

The dark-haired guy stops dead in his track and stares at Dean for a long moment before he answers. “You shouldn’t walk around alone at this time.”

“Says who?” Really, who does this guy think he is?

“It’s not safe outside for an unmated omega. Especially not at night.”

Dean is really starting to see red. “You follow me because I’m an omega? Fuck off.”

But the guy doesn’t leave him alone. Dean tries for one last time, or he will punch the hell out of him. “What is your plan, huh?” he says and steps closer, using the one or two inches separating them in height to look down at the alpha, “Are you some sort of morals enforcer? Keeping an eye on the ‘weak’ ones? Because you as an alpha are so much better than the rest of the world?”

He can see the other man swallow, noticeably impressed by Dean’s demonstration. “Let me tell you one thing: I didn’t need a savior in there, and I don’t need a watchdog out here, capisce?” With that he steps back.

“I just wanted to make sure these guys don’t take advantage of you. You were apparently drunk and easily manipulable.”

Dean laughs out loud. “Are you serious? It was me who played those guys! It’s called hustling pool!”

The guy looks confused. “You… you acted like you’re drunk? To win money?”

“Oh my god,” Dean shakes his head, “seriously, how naïve are you? You sure you shouldn’t be at home with mommy by now?”

Mr. Dark-hair just tilts his head to the side.

“I can’t believe this,” Dean mutters. “But you know what? I don’t care. Just leave me alone. Or maybe I should write it down for you?” He flinches, the yelling strains his already aching jaw.

“You’re hurt,” the guy says and steps forward to cup Dean’s jaw carefully.

“What the hell, dude?”

“Sorry,” he apologizes and backs away. “You should probably cool this.”

“Yeah, you don’t look exactly peachy yourself,” Dean answers and points to the guy’s hand.

“Yes, that was unfortunate, but necessary.”

“This is unbelievable. Walking around in a suit in a college bar, interrupting people playing pool, because you find it necessary to act as a guardian for random omegas, or what? What kind of guy are you?”

“My name is Castiel. I’m a law student.” He offers his hand.

Dean cracks up with laughter. Can this evening get more bizarre? “You’re definitely a guy who takes things to literal.” But he still takes the hand to shake it. Castiel flinches at the contact. “Okay, you should ice that too. Nice right hook by the way.”

“Ehm, thank you?” Castiel answers.

Dean sighs. He needs to get rid of this guy, but he also need to get back to his car as soon as possible. “Come on, I’ve got an ice pack in my cooler.”

He doesn’t like this, not at all. This guy is an alpha and Dean hates alphas. Castiel is also a bit creepy, with all the staring and the trench coat and everything, but he also kind of helped Dean in an emergency, so it would be fair to at least let him cool his injured hand for a bit. If it comes to the worst, Dean thinks he could still overpower him with the crowbar in his trunk.

They walk side by side for the remaining minute or two that it takes them to reach the little shed where his Impala is parked. Dean opens the trunk and pulls out two ice packets from the cooler.

“Here,” he says when offering one to Castiel.

“Thank you.”

For a few minutes they just stand there, leaning against the car and cooling their wounds. Dean drinks another beer and uses it to down some pain killers that hopefully haven’t expired yet.

“You do that often?” Castiel asks after a while.

“Do what often?”

“Hustling pool, getting into fights.”

Dean snorts when taking a sip. “Yes, and more often than I like to.”

“You’re not a student.”

“I’m not.”

They fall back into silence until their ice packs warm up and begin to soften. Dean puts them away and tentatively touches his jaw. It still hurts like a bitch and will be black and blue for days, but he’d had worse. “You okay?” he asks Castiel, who flexes his right hand.

“Yes, it doesn’t seem like something is broken.”

“Well, good then. If you don’t mind stepping back, I’m gonna get out of here now.” Dean searches his pockets for his car keys, when he realizes that Castiel hasn’t moved a bit. “Anything else?”

The man stares yet again for a moment before he answers, his eyes not leaving Dean’s. “I think you shouldn’t continue ‘hustling pool’. You’re apparently not very good at it, if these men figured it out that fast.”

Did he just used air quotes? And why the hell am I still talking to him?

“Boy, you really have no verbal filter at all, do you?” Castiel tilts his head at that again and Dean’s starting to get annoyed. “Just for your information, it would’ve all turned out good if you didn’t came waltzing in trying to “save” me.”

“Oh, so you say that it was my fault that these alphas beat you up?”

“Ehm, in a way, yes,” Dean says. He is turned to Castiel again, who has his back against the car. “It put me off my stride. I could’ve concentrated more on being careful with them if you hadn’t interrupted.”

Castiel snorts. Did he really do that just now? “I think it’s because you try to come across tougher than you are. You seem to be very focused on fighting against your natural instinct, against your omega personality.”

That’s it. Dean sees red, grabs Castiel and shoves him hard against the wall. Their heads are so close now that he can feel Castiel’s breath against his face. “So that’s what you are, huh? Some bigoted son of a bitch with a stick far up your ass. You probably think that alphas should rule the world, that omegas are nothing but baby machines and should stay at home to obey their mates. Is that what you think? Do you walk around and search for omegas who don’t follow your outdated rules?”

Dean can see the anger in Castiel’s eyes, he can feel the rapid pulse under his fingertips, where the alpha’s wrist is trapped. And he can smell it. In fact, it’s the first time that Dean takes the time to take in the other man’s scent. He can smell irritation, rage probably, but also something else.

“I just wanted to help,” Castiel rasps in this deep gravelly voice, “I do have traditional views on gender roles, but I will not let you insult me. I don’t think omegas are worth less, I simply got taught that an alpha should always help an omega in distress. And that is what I did.”

They are still close, very close to be honest. At some point, Dean must’ve stepped that last inch forward and pressed his body against Castiel’s. To show dominance, to show strength. “Then why are you still here? You saved your omega in distress.” He doesn’t have to speak loudly, they can probably hear each other’s whispers by now. Castiel doesn’t answer, just swallows and nervously twitches with his lips. He breathes heavily, and Dean finally understands what is going on, finally recognizes the smell. Castiel is aroused.

“Oh, so that’s your plan? You thought that you’re gonna save an omega and then what? I would show my gratitude by letting you fuck me?”

Castiel shakes his head vigorously, but his lust-blown eyes give it away. “You thought that following me down this dark alley would help?”

Dean starts having fun with this. He can feel the alpha squirm, tremble even, like he’s holding back with all strength. Time to torture him a bit more. “Do you like my scent? Do I make you hard?” He gets his answer when he presses one thigh against Castiel’s crotch. “Oh, I do,” he grins.

The alpha gets beet red and hesitantly opens his mouth again. “No, I… I didn’t mean to… I just… I never met someone like you and I…”

Dean smiles. He rubs his face against Castiel’s and laughs at the ragged sigh it evokes from the alpha. It’s a risky game. Dean knows well that alphas can develop immense strength when they get teased or irritated, which could end up with Castiel simply taking what he wants. But so far, it’s just too much fun to see him twist with the attempt to hold back. The power Dean feels right now is intoxicating and he doesn’t intend on letting go just yet. “You never met an omega who speaks for themselves? Someone who fights back against the big bad alpha? Is it fascinating to be pressed into a wall by someone the society considers as weak?”

Castiel nods and tries to free his hands, but Dean holds them in place. “I never met a male omega,” the alpha brings out after a few breaths.

“Oh, so that’s the thing here. Your family doesn’t only have outdated view for alphas and omegas, they’re homophobic too.” With a mischievous grin, Dean whispers into the man’s ear. “Tell me Castiel, do mommy and daddy know that their little boy likes dick? Do they know that you’d like to feel stubble against your face?” He emphasizes his speech with rubbing his jaw against Castiel’s and intensifying the pressure of his thigh on the man’s crotch. “Do they know you want strong muscles instead of soft curves?”

“No,” the alpha says, barely more than a shaky breath.

He’s about to snap any minute now, Dean can see it. And for a short moment, he thinks about giving into it, riding this poor bastard into oblivion. He has to admit that the alpha’s scent doesn’t even disgust him, quite the opposite actually. At some point, he started burying his nose in the other man’s neck, deeply breathing in. But this is wrong, so absolutely wrong. Dean doesn’t sleep with alphas, that’s his number one rule. He had his fun, tortured this guy a bit and demonstrated power, but that’s it. Or so he thinks.

Before Dean can as much as step an inch away, Castiel kisses him hard. It’s sloppy, clashing teeth and everything. The alpha acts like he suffocates and Dean’s mouth is the only source of oxygen around. To his utter surprise, Dean doesn’t recoil. He should stop this, should shove the alpha away and get into his car, but he doesn’t. No, he even opens his mouth to let Castiel in and the rest is just a huge mixup of moaning, grasping hands, and lots of saliva.

Dean’s mind keeps struggling with the whole story. His mouth gasps when Castiel sucks a hickey behind his ear, but in his head he screams “No!”. His arms circle the alphas surprisingly strong torso and his hands clutch at the man’s back muscles, but his brain want’s him to stop. Dean is inwardly reluctant until they somehow manage to get into the backseat of his car and he straddles Castiel’s hips. Their combined smell fogs around them in the closed space and time seems to slow down.

Fuck it! What’s a rule without an exception?

They claw at each other’s clothes, desperate to get them out of the way as soon as possible. With the first contact of their naked chests, there’s no going back. Dean tries to be quick with opening Castiel’s fly, but the alpha doesn’t seem to be on the same page right now. He starts kissing Dean’s neck again, soft and lingering, and makes his way down with his mouth to nibble and lick at skin. Dean feels tingly everywhere; his whole body is like under electricity.

This is not how it’s supposed to be, this should be angry sex, not sweet, not gentle. Deep down inside, Dean struggles against it, but it also feels so good. He arches his back and rests his head on the backrest of the front seats. Just one moment. Closing his eyes, Dean concentrates on feeling. Sweat and heat under his fingertips, the throbbing of his heart, and the chill when Castiel blows over his skin. It all builds up to an experience so new and so frightening, that Dean puts a stop to it. Opening his eyes, he leans forward and pats the alphas hands away. “Stay still,” he orders and Castiel complies, noticeably holding his breath.

Dean makes quick work of the other man’s pants, shoving them down his thighs just enough to have access to what he wants now. His own jeans are way more complicated to get rid of, but this is the backseat of an American muscle car, not some modern subcompact, and once again, Dean is grateful for his Baby.

His boxer briefs are already soaked with slick when he tears them down. God, when did I become so needy? But there is no time to think about this now. Maybe there is, but Dean doesn’t want to. He swiftly positions himself over Castiel sinks down. The alpha moans and pants, but Dean doesn’t pay attention. He closes his eyes and blocks out that he’s riding an alpha at a brutal pace and that he loves it.

The Impala fills up with fog, a mixture of their combined breathing and sweat. Dean just goes at it with all he has, still not opening his eyes. But he can feel his orgasm building up and his rhythm starts to falter. Castiel seems to notice it because suddenly, a hand closes around his dick and starts stroking. Dean almost jumps up at the feeling and quickly bats the other man’s hand away. No, this is too much for him, so he replaces the alphas hand with his own.

They chase their releases and Dean almost thinks he found it when a sensation explodes inside of him that has him screaming. It takes him a second to realize that it was Castiel, who came and who is now buried deep inside of him. With his knot.

For one moment, Dean wants to get up and separate them forcefully, but out of instinct, he knows that wouldn’t do any good. They’re bound together for some time now, so he does the only useful thing now and speeds up his strokes. His orgasm shoots through him like a bullet and only after he comes down from the high, Dean opens his eyes.

The sight lets him swallow. Castiel looks done, completely wrecked with tousled hair, dripping with sweat and his head thrown back. They stay like this for a few moments, but eventually the alpha says in his sexy gravely voice, “So, what’s your name?”

Dean turns up the heat in his car. Fortunately, the diner’s wifi is strong enough to cover the parking lot, so he can do this in private. He never thought he’d have to search for an abortion clinic anyway. The pregnancy test lies on the passenger seat, like a punishment for not sticking to his rules. Right next to his package of birth control pills. If he’ll ever see the guy again who sold him those placebos, he’s going to say thank you with his fists.

Scrolling through the FAQ and information page of the nearest clinic makes his heart sink. What the fuck?!

He opens the next page. Luckily, he’s in Chicago and not in the middle of nowhere, so there is more than one option. The result, however, is the same. No, no, no, this can’t be true.

But it is, and Dean actually shouldn’t be surprised. With how conservative and outdated the opinion of an omega’s role is in this country, he should’ve known that getting rid of a baby wouldn’t be easy. But that he needs a statement of agreement from “his alpha” is just insane. He’s not mated, so that means that his father is officially still responsible for him in this case. That’s not an option. Not for all the money in the world would he ever go back to this bastard, let alone ask him to sign this shit. No, there has to be another way.

Dean spends three days getting the address. Of course there is an unofficial way of getting an abortion, because people like making money with the distress of omegas. The neighborhood is dubious, the building even more, but what else can he do? With the hope of finally solving this problem, Dean enters the so-called doctor’s office.

His hopes get shattered quickly, when a skinny woman explains the procedure and casually mentions the price.

“Ehm, sorry, did you just say five grands?” he asks bewildered.

“Yes,” the woman answers, keeping a straight face.

“As in… five thousand dollars?”

“Yes.”

Dean slumps into the faux leather chair and sighs. “I don’t have five thousand dollars. I would need months do get that much money. If I’m lucky.”

The skinny woman closes the file in front of her and puts it away. “Well, I fear I’ve got to ask you to leave in that case.”

“But, you don’t understand,” Dean starts, desperate, “this thing has to disappear, I can’t be pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, if you don’t have the money, we can’t help you.”

The room around him starts to swim, his knees get weak and then he’s falling, crashing down onto the wooden floor. His head hurts and his ears ring, there’s not one muscle in his whole body that doesn’t tremble now. He notices that someone pulls him up, some bulky guy in a black hoody, but Dean doesn’t really react. It’s like his legs just follow the movement of being dragged out of the building, until he collapses against a brick wall outside, vomiting.

That’s how Dean finds himself, again, in a dirty bathroom of some edge of town diner. And this time he’s crying. He’s crying because he was stupid and careless and dump, and now he has a problem he can’t solve. For a long time, he just sits in the corner of this room, the guy coming in to take a piss somewhere in between doesn’t even care.

What should I do? What should I do? “What should I do,” he asks himself through the sobbing.

On his way out, he swipes the burger and fries that wait on the counter to be picked up by a waitress. Back in the Impala, he curls up on the front seat and turns up the heater. Maybe he can just fall asleep and when he wakes up again, it was all just a bad dream. Searching through the glove box for some booze to help with the process of falling asleep, his eyes land on a piece of paper. He unfolds it.

Thank you for the night, Dean (is that what people say in a situation like this?). Call me if you need anything. Castiel.

Under the neat handwriting is a phone number. Dean remembers Castiel giving him the paper, but he never even unfolded it, blocking out the night of their meeting.

This creepy, nerdy, sexy alpha, with his hair and his eyes and his voice. For a long time, their night together seemed just like a foggy dream, but now Dean has to bear the consequences.

“Why me?” he shouts against the roof of his car.

A thought strikes him. This guy seemed fancy, with the suit and the vocabulary and everything. A law student. Maybe…

Maybe this Castiel has five grands lying around.

#supernatural #fanfiction #a/b/o dynamics #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #angst #fluff #mpreg #one night stand #desperate times - desperate measures

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anneedmonds · 5 years

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Life Update: Ted Turns Two/Eighty

Ted is two today, which means that I must have entered some sort of space-time vortex since giving birth to him because I can genuinely say, without a hint of over-exaggeration, that it seems like only last month when I bought him home from the hospital.

I can still remember the argument that was happening in the hospital reception when I arrived to book in for my c-section, I can still feel the sting of the Clexane injections I was given post-operation. (The anti-clotting Clexane injections were, for me, one of the worst parts of c-section recovery. Self-administering injections when you’re also trying to work out how to breastfeed a hard-gummed, furiously hungry newborn is just no fun.)

But here we are, two years down the line, and young Master Ted can say “bum bum”, “poo poo” and quite a few other useful words and phrases. To me he still looks just like a baby – still has the fine, wispy hair, the round face, the funny little walk – but to everyone else I’m pretty sure he would be classified as a Proper Little Boy.

I mean he puts his feet up on the footstool to relax, for goodness’ sake. When he’s pacing he jams his hands in his pockets, he strokes his chin when he’s thinking; he’s one step away from smoking a pipe and wearing a monocle. He’s two going on eighty!

And I don’t like the idea of being without babies. Being a “person with babies”, or “a person with very small children” has been something of a comfort blanket for the past few years. It’s allowed me an excuse for always being completely exhausted, for never going out, for cancelling things and limiting my travel and taking long afternoon naps. What’s my excuse now? I’m still knackered (perhaps more so), I still shudder at the idea of going out out and spending time away from home becomes less appealing as the months pass, not more.

It’s a funny old thing, watching kids grow – a privilege, a joy, a source of great amusement and a definite constant reminder of good fortune. (I mean, two kids when you thought you’d have none; what could be a luckier win?) But at the same time there’s a sadness when each stage passes, there’s a sort of low-key panic when a familiar little quirk or habit suddenly ceases to exist and is lost forever in a jumble of confused memories and discoloured bottle teats. When you realise that they won’t ever cling to you like a monkey again when you climb the stairs, when it dawns on you one morning that someday you won’t need to pour their cereal or butter their toast. Nobody really wants an eternal (highly-dependent) infant but at the same time, it’s nice to be needed. To be put on that pedestal that makes you provider, protector and educator – a kind of demigod.

I’m convinced now that parenthood is mainly just enduring the constant swing from one emotional extreme to the other, multiple times a day, and then wondering whether everyone else is experiencing the same thing. In the space of five minutes I can feel pure, unadulterated elation, wondering how life could possibly get any better and thanking the stars for my good fortune and the next I can be completely flying off the handle, dealing with two consecutive screaming breakdowns, thinking about how the time I had my wisdom tooth sawn in half, filed down to the root and then sewn back under my gum flap was actually less painful than dealing with a particularly difficult bedtime session.

Babies are hard enough, but add in the calculated whining and moaning of a three year old on a mission to win the Battle Of Wills and you find yourself hiding in the airing cupboard silently banging your forehead on the side of the water tank. Clonk. Clonk. Give me strength.

Mind you, with the whining comes comedy of such unintentional brilliance it should be regularly documented for posterity. Angelica has become obsessed with Fairytale Role-Play. Mostly Cindarella – she is, of course, Cinders, even though I try to be very modern and encourage her to be the Handsome Prince (“but his looks don’t matter! Let’s call him the Funny and Kind Prince!”) or the Evil Step-Mother (“maybe she’s just really tired and sick of doing all the cleaning herself, let’s give her a break”). So I spend a lot of time riding around on a hobby horse, trying imaginary glass slippers on imaginary suitors (male and female) whilst Angelica sits on the sofa shouting “me! Me, me Handsome Prince! Over here, my foot will fit the slipper!”

I put in lots of time doing role-play and lots of time being a sort of toilet companion, sitting bowl-side and encouraging bowel movements to come forth whilst Angelica gives me a running commentary and progress report.

“It’s going to be stinky Mummy, I can tell. Here it comes, no that was a bottom burp! Here it comes – no a bottom burp again Mummy! You need to be patient. This might take all week.” Indeed.

Mr AMR and I have, with a sort of silent agreement, slipped into alternating the morning duties. So one day I’ll get up with Ted, who wakes up about seventy billion hours before sunrise, and the next morning Mr AMR will. Now I hate this arrangement, because getting up on your own, in the dark, when you haven’t had enough sleep, is really, really depressing. I don’t even like it in the summer. The thing I hate most about it is that it makes me resentful. Yes, I could spin things around and marvel at how I get to spend an extra couple of hours with my cherubs, alone, but at the same time, getting to spend an extra couple of hours in the bed – alone – sounds pretty good. No responsibility, no noise, those extra hours are the best quality of sleep you can ever have. If you could bottle the feeling that is “someone else having full resposnibility for your children whilst you half-listen in a snoozy, in-and-out-of-sleep sort of way” then you’d be a billionnaire. Because knowing that they are safe, that they are happy, but that someone else is temporarily doing everything…is golden. Bloody hell.

I taunted the Big Freeze and then it came; we’ve been more or less snowed in since Friday morning, with a particularly cold night icing things over and sealing the deal. Mr AMR has managed to get out – nothing can thwart Friday Fish n Chips – but there’s no way I’m skidding up the hill just to fetch a pail of water. Apparently my car is four wheel drive (who knew?!) but I’m still not setting out on the road to disaster; we have frozen croissants and Mint Magnums, what else do you need for crying out loud?

Right, off to try and make Ted a dinosaur cake for his birthday. If the results are particularly bad then I’ll show you a picture for your amusement. I’m going to fashion the legs and neck from chopped up chocolate mini rolls and make the head out of a cupcake – what could possibly go wrong?

Read all of my life updates here – I’ve written one every month since July 2015.

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Life Update: Ted Turns Two/Eighty was first posted on February 3, 2019 at 7:32 am. ©2018 "A Model Recommends". Use of this feed is for personal non-commercial use only. If you are not reading this article in your feed reader, then the site is guilty of copyright infringement. Please contact me at [email protected] Life Update: Ted Turns Two/Eighty published first on https://medium.com/@SkinAlley

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