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magicrowiswritingstuff · 4 years

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“Not so good News” - Gabriel x pregnant!reader (2/3)

Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here) | Part 3

Summary: Part 2 of "Not so good News"! Read the first part HERE. After you had received the news of your pregnancy you feel rather conflicted. On one hand you want this child to live but on the other hand this also means you will die giving birth. Your only option is to enjoy the time you have left with the people you love, forcing your dark thoughts to the back of your head. (F/N) means friend’s name.

Warning: dark thoughts/themes, suggestive themes, heavy angst, swear words, death

Category: angst and fluff, even more angst

Words: about 10.000

Note 1: So it’s finally done… however, because the sequel got so long I decided to split this series into three parts. So this is the second and the last one will be up next weekend (hopefully). Note 2: Also… I finished season 13 (SPOILERS! ahead). Sooo, I guess he’s alive… or at least was. I normally try to avoid spoilers of any kind but after the last episode of season 13 I had to look if he pranked us yet again so I looked up if he would return in any future episodes. NO. Okay, I guess. Doesn’t bother me, not at all. Naaaahh. I’m juts gonna go and … cry in my room now… so yeah. Enjoy my piece of writing.

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"Not so good News" Gabriel x pregnant!reader

Pregnancy Week 4: "You really shouldn't do so much physical labor, sugar" Gabriel commented as he leaned against the side of your car with his arms crossed before his chest. You only huffed, rolled your eyes and continued getting rid of all the blood on the driver's seat of your car. Of course it wasn't easy work, it was hard even because the blood stains were already a day old and dry. But it was your blood and your car and you wanted to clean it. You wanted to do something after receiving the ... news. You needed to occupy your mind. Groaning you grabbed the dishwashing detergent-water mixture and dipped the sponge in it rather aggressively. Muttering under your breath you got back to work. All of this pissed you off. The blood stains, your condition ...this pregnancy. This wasn't how you imagined your life to go or end even. You knew the life of a hunter was dangerous but you always thought that if you wouldn't grow old you would be killed on a hunt ... not after being trapped in the bunker for nine months. This just didn't seem real, it wasn't fair. You scrubbed the car seat over and over again even though the blood was long gone on this spot. This wasn't fair. "(Y/N)." "What?!" you snapped and turned around to face the archangel, steaming with fury and anger. But the moment you met his worried eyes the rage inside of you vanished and was replaced by guilt. By guilt and by anger directed at yourself. Your mood swings were ... you were hurting others again. The sponge fell from your hands and to the ground just like you did too. With your face buried in your hands you sank down, leaning against the car and sobbed. Tears were streaming down your face as sharp cries tore through your throat. This was too much, it was all too much. You didn't want this, not like that. You didn't want to hurt him just because you had no idea what you were supposed to do with your anger. This wasn't fair to him. This wasn’t fair. You felt him beside you, hugging you but you couldn't react. You were horrible. You weren’t fair to him. "Baby ... honey, please. It's alright, you're alright" he whispered into your ear as he pulled you on his lap. Immediately you buried your face into his chest, clawed at his shirt and pressed yourself against him. No. This was all wrong. Wasn't it supposed to be magical? Wasn't it supposed to be great news?! You should cry tears of joy not sadness and anger. This was all wrong. "No" you hiccupped and shook your head. "I'm not alright." You would die. Your days were numbered and you would only live to count them every day. This is not fair. Gabriel grabbed your shoulders and carefully pushed you away so he could look at your face. Whipping away your tears you looked to your side, unable to meet his eyes. But he cupped your cheeks lovingly and directed your gaze back at him. He searched your face for something, a hint. He seemed so worried. It broke your heart. You bit back another sob. "What do you mean?" he asked and pushed back a hair strand that had fallen in your face. "I know this won't end well" you admitted. "I know I will die." The eyes of the archangel widen in shook. Didn't he know? Was he surprised at the news? Maybe it wasn't true? Maybe you wouldn't have to die?

"How do you know this?" You gulped, all the hope you had dared to feel vanished in an instance as you pried off his hands from your face. Slipping off of his lap you curled up with your knees pressed against your chest. "I researched everything about angels, I questioned Cas about everything even before I met you" you said and looked up again, locked eyes with him again. His honey-colored orbs were filled with worry, he was looking at you like this ever since he had found you in your car, almost bleeding to death. You hurt him. Him seeing you so beaten had hurt him. Grabbing his hand you squeezed it out of instinct. "I always knew about the risks of sleeping with you, of unwantedly getting pregnant" you started. "I just never thought it would happen." Immediately you were trapped in another tight hug.

"I'm sorry."

"No!" you yelped and wrapped your arms tightly around him, too. "Don't be sorry! It's not your fault. Sometimes just shit happens." You pressed yourself against him, hugged him so tightly like a baby koala its mother. This wasn't his fault. It wasn't yours either. It was just bad luck, unfortunate, maybe not fair but you would have to live with it. And you wouldn't let that child feel the consequences of this unlucky situation. This child would live and be happy … without you.

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Pregnancy Week 5: Whenever someone would ask you how you were, how you felt you always lied. You always answered with "fine" like it was expected of you. But if you were to be honest you would said you were unhappy, sad, discouraged and miserable even. You felt awful. And your pregnancy symptoms didn't help that either. When you were alone, when you would retreat into your room, your safe zone, you could never hold back the tears. Gabriel wasn't in your room that often since he was an archangel and didn't really need to sleep. He still lied beside you at night and hold you but you would cry more during the day and then pass out at night in his arms. So you lied on your bed all day and just cried until you had no tears left. No one seemed to notice the red in your eyes or the rings under them, the tiredness in every muscle or the emptiness in your facial expressions. Or if they did they didn't dare to address it.

You felt nauseous almost all day, too. You smelled Dean's unholy food and you were ready to throw up again. You smelled your half cup of coffee and you were ready to throw up again. But you needed that coffee. You had reduced it but without it you were unable to wake up. Not that you were very active anyway but it helped a little. You felt ill, like an empty shell of your former self.

"(Y/N)?"

You slowly rolled over so you could look at the door to your room. The worried, honey eyes of Gabriel met your tired ones. Hastily you wiped away the last tears still clinging to your skin and sat up, your blanket still tightly wrapped around you.

"What's up?" you asked, trying to sound happy and energetic even if it made you cringe internally.

"You don't have to pretend" he said and walked towards the bed. You didn't even try to come up with a lie or continue with the act and just flopped back down on the mattress, while pulling the blanket over your head, hiding your teary face from him. You felt the bed dip beside you.

"(Y/N). Please talk to me, sugar" he begged as you felt his hand on your shoulder. Slowly he pushed the blanket from your face, revealing fresh tears that had escaped from your eyes as you helplessly looked at him. A bagging glance, bagging for him to do something you didn’t even know about. Bagging for help of any sort.

"I can't, Gabe" you hiccupped. "I don't know- what am I supposed to tell you? That I'm a mess? That I can't handle this? That I don't even have enough energy to leave the bed at all?" Pressing the palms of your hands against your eyes you forcefully tried to bite back your sobs.

"What do you want to hear, Gabe?" you cried and rolled over so you wouldn't have to face the archangel no more. But before you knew it you felt his arms wrapped around you as he pressed your back against him. The warmth radiating from him soothed you instantly so your sobs were slowly reduced to the occasional hiccup.

"Just tell me that you're hurting. Tell me that you aren't fine. Tell me how I can help you" Gabriel said, pressing his face in your hair. With a sigh you turned around to face him again, not bothering to wipe away the tears this time.

"I don't know, Gabriel" you began. "I don't even know what I can do."

"There has to be something that can help you, even if it's just for a little while."

You closed your eyes and buried your face in his neck. "Just hold me for now."

The next time you opened your eyes the room was dark and the bed cold. At first you just stayed put, with your eyes open and darting around. You wouldn't fall asleep for a while you knew so much. So you sat up, rubbed your eyes and looked around but Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. With a silent groan you wrapped your blanket around you and stood up. Opening the door you listened for any sounds but the bunker stayed silent. Nevertheless you decided to sneak until you had reached the library which was also abandoned and dark. Sitting down on a chair you turned on one of the lamps on the desk and grabbed your laptop. You had this idea in your head for some days now but still you hesitated for a second before eventually pressing the record button. Your empty eyes blinked at you and for a while you just stared right back.

"Hey, baby" you finally said with the tiniest smile on your lips. Pushing back some of your hair you fumbled with your next words. "You probably don't know who I am" you glanced to your side before directing your eyes back to the screen.

"I'm your mother."

You stayed silent for a solid minute after that, just blinking at your reflection.

"I wished I knew what you look like" you began without thinking. "I bet you have Gabe's warm eyes." Shaking your head you put your face into your hands. "What am I doing?" you whispered.

Looking up again you forced a smile on your lips even though you felt your eyes water.

"I love you, baby." You stopped the recording after that and closed your laptop. Hugging your knees against your chest you stared at the desk in front of you.

You heard his steps approach you before you heard his voice.

"(Y/N)?"

Slowly turning around you spotted Sam in the doorway. "Are you alright?"

You considered to lie, to tell him that you were fine and just couldn't sleep anymore. But instead you shook your head. "No-o" you croaked out and stretched out your arms towards him. Sam scooped you up into his arms, hugging you tightly. You couldn't pretend any longer.

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Pregnancy Week 6: Your mood was slowly improving ever since you had decided to stop lying about your feelings. Sometimes you still felt overwhelmed and down however you tried to change that. You didn't have much time and that was a fact so you should enjoy your last months as far as possible. However, this didn't mean you would magically forget every dark and worrying thought.

Your mood swings were slowly decreasing but you still felt nauseous or dizzy from time to time and by now your stomach also felt a little hard and if you squinted you imagined you had already gained a little volume. That didn't really bother you though since it was to be expected. But what annoyed you was that your breasts had begun to hurtfully span. It was an unpleasant continuous ache that drove you nuts. Why did nobody warn you about this? You groaned as you lied in bed and pressed them down a little, trying to release some of the pain.

"If you want to be touched you just have to say so."

Startled you jumped a little as you looked at Gabriel entering your room, a sly grin on his lips as he slowly approached you. You snorted and slapped his hands away when he sat down beside you.

"That's not it, you featherbrain. They just hurt like hell" you explained and crossed your arms before your chest. The archangel huffed with a sulky expression before his grin returned. Before you could react he was already leaning over you, pinning you to the bed.

"I can help you with pain relief, too."

Snorting you decided to play along.

"Oh and how would you do that, Doctor Gabe?" His grin only grew at your response.

"At first I would ask you were exactly you are hurting" he said while snuggling his face into your neck, leaving behind feather-light kisses. You giggled and pressed your hands against his chest, lifting him from you.

"I can tell you: It's definitely not there."

The archangel hummed and nodded. "Maybe there then?" He began to kiss up your neck to your ear, making you giggle even more. "Sto-op, that tickles. An-and you have to go lower anyway."

"Lower, you say?" he asked and looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You nodded with your face growing hot.

"For now, I need you right there." You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down to meet your lips. It neither was a demanding kiss nor really a kiss that had to lead to more but it still was a heated one, a passionate one. You realized that since you had got the news about your pregnancy you hadn't kissed him. You subconscious had begun to avoid physical affection apart from the occasional hug. Immediately you felt tears spring into your eyes and a soft sob left your lips which led Gabriel to interrupt the kiss. Worried he glanced down at you and cupped your cheeks.

"What's wrong? Did I overdo it? Do you need something?" he sounded paranoid. With tears still streaming down your face you shook your head while laughing.

"No, it's just those stupid pregnancy hormones" you said between sobs and giggles. A relieved sigh left Gabriel's lips as he wiped away your tears.

"Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry" you laughed, covering your mouth with your hands. "But I can't control it."

The archangel shook his head before lying down beside you. With a small smile he heaved you onto his chest, drawing small circles on your back while you tried to calm down again.

"Sorry for destroying the mood" you whispered after a while.

"We can always pick back up where we left off" Gabriel suggested and wiggled his eyebrows. You let out a small laugh again and slapped his shoulder playfully.

"Maybe later."

Gabriel shrugged as far as possible while lying on the bed. After that no one spoke up again and as you slowly drifted off you realized that you hadn't felt so relaxed in weeks.

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Pregnancy week 7: "What?!" Your angry voice echoed through the bunker as you slammed your hands down on the table in front of you. With twitchy eyes you stared at the four men who were set to go on another hunt. Nothing unusual, nothing to be angry about however the news they just gave you were a completely different story.

"I'm not staying in the bunker while you go out hunting!" you declared and crossed your arms before your chest, furiously glaring at them.

"It's too risky" Sam began.

"We won't have a discussion about this" Dean continued while Castiel only nodded, not daring to also speak up with your heated temper. Your eyes narrowed as they wandered towards Gabriel. Raising one eyebrow you waited for his response.

"(Y/N), they're right."

Your mouth fell open. You at least had expected for him to have your back.

"I'm pregnant, not useless!" you finally spat back.

"It's not about being useless!" the archangel raged back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It's about keeping you and the baby safe. Can't you see that?"

The sudden energy you had felt because of the anger suddenly vanished and you slumped back onto the chair. You looked away to the side with your arms still crossed before you, searching for the right words.

"I understand that" you began with your voice flat, still not looking at anyone. The bunker was the safest place on earth and since every other angel wanted you dead you knew you shouldn't leave. "But I can't stay here for the rest of my life."

You only had about eight months left and you wouldn't spend them locked away where it was 'safer' for you. You wanted to live as long as you were still able to.

"For the rest of your life?" Dean asked baffled and when you turned around to look at them you also saw Sam's confused look. You only had to share one glance with Gabriel and Castiel to understand that the Winchesters didn't know it yet. You gulped and directed your gaze back at the two brothers.

"I'm dying."

Maybe you should have found better words for it but there was no use in sugarcoating it anyway. Immediately after those words had left your mouth you saw utter horror fill the eyes of Sam and Dean.

"You what?!" the older brother yelped while Sam stayed quiet. You could see the battle in his mind though. Nodding you sighed and let your arms dangle down. Out of instinct they found their place on your stomach which had grown a little over the week.

"If a human gets pregnant with an angel's child... they die while giving birth to the Nephilim" you explained with your gaze stubbornly directed to the ground. Biting your lip you clenched your eyes shut.

'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry!'

you silently begged.

"Since when did you know?" You looked up again to meet Sam's sad and terrified eyes. You slumped back down and shrugged.

"Pretty much since... ever? Castiel told me a lot about heaven and angels early on" you explained. Dean glanced at Castiel for clarification.

"It's true, Dean" the angel sadly confirmed. The older brother's eyes wandered back to you and then to Gabriel. Even from your seat you could almost feel the furious heat in Dean's eyes.

"You knew it too, didn't you?" he asked the archangel who opened his mouth to answer but Dean wasn't finished yet. "You knew she would die if she ever got pregnant and you still decided to have sex with her?!"

You flinched by Dean's sharp tone and then immediately jumped up from your seat to run around the table and stand between the archangel and the angry Winchester with your arms stretched out to uphold some distance.

"Stop" you ordered with your gaze fixed on Dean. Taken a back he took one step back. "I knew about it too, Dean and I made the conscious decision to have sex anyway. If you want to blame him” you turned around to face him fully and put your hands over each other on your chest, pointing at yourself. “Then you have to blame me, too."

Sam put one hand on Dean's shoulder who shook his head in disappointment. "You're both fucking stupid." He freed himself from Sam and walked out of the library without another word. Defeated you let your arms fall down to your sides.

Sam, Dean and Cas left the bunker the next day, leaving you and Gabriel behind even though they would have been grateful for the archangels help but Dean couldn't look either of you in the eyes. Sam and Cas at least had said good bye even though you knew that Sam felt betrayed, too.

You sat on the sofa in the library, again with your blanket wrapped around you and a bucket on your lap. You had woken up with severe morning sickness and even though you doubted you could really throw up -only dry heaves tore through your throat from time to time- you didn't dare to go anywhere without the bucket today. You were just too exhausted to clean it up later if something should happen.

"Are you feeling alright?"

You turned your head around to look at Gabriel leaning against the back of the coach. You shook your head and let yourself fall back against the cushions. "No, I hate this. I need hugs."

Demandingly you stretched out your arms without another word. Gabriel chuckled and walked around the couch. He put the bucket on the floor beside the sofa and lied down. You flopped down onto him and wrapped your arms around him.

"You got pretty clingy since you're pregnant" the archangel stated.

"Shut up, it's the hormones."

You felt his laughter vibrate against your chest as he began to play with your hair. You didn't tell him that you feared your end and the future of your child. A future you wouldn't be a part of. This was never how you imagined it to go when you were little. You had dreamed of the perfect little family like everyone else. You had never imagined to end up with an archangel either so ... maybe you were doomed from the very beginning. You knew you would die so you wanted to spend as much time as you could with Gabe, Cas, Sam and Dean when you couldn’t spend time with your child. Sighing you closed your eyes. You hoped Dean wouldn't stay mad at you for long.

You slightly sat up, holding your upper body upright with your arms which were placed to either side of Gabriel so you could look him in the eyes. He raised one eyebrow at you in question and for a few moments you just stared right back at him until you felt your cheeks growing hot under his gaze.

"I love you" you mumbled with a faint smile on your lips which he immediately returned.

"I love you too, sweetcheeks."

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Pregnancy week 8: You sat before your laptop again, staring at you through the screen. With a huff you pressed record before you could retreat again.

"Hello, baby" you started with a tired smile. The night before you hadn't slept well and in the morning you always felt rather sick nowadays. Nevertheless you didn't want to delay it again.

"I would love to know what you did today. Tell me if Dean didn't want to teach you how to fight and I will haunt him." You chuckled. Even though you wouldn't be there for your child you kind of guessed they would want to be a hunter. How could you not want to if you knew about everything that was lurking outside? Especially when you were living with the Winchesters on top of that. And you also knew that Dean probably would strive against teaching them at first. You shook your head and continued to talk to the screen for a few minutes more. You didn't even really know about what. What were you supposed to tell them? You would never get to know them. You would never know what they liked.

"Mom loves you, baby" you finished before your eyes could get teary again, waved into the camera before stopping the recording.

With a sigh you stood up and left your room. You had to find Dean and at best with Sam. They had returned from the hunt a few days ago in which Dean hadn't talked to you at all. Sam did talk to you after your reveal however you noticed that he too grew a little distant. You walked through the many corridors of the bunker and finally found the two brothers in the kitchen, sitting on the table. You froze in the doorway when Dean's eyes met yours before he quickly looked away again. He was still angry. Sam kept looking at you and even threw you a little smile though you could tell it was rather forced.

"Hey, Sam" you said quietly, sat down beside him and directed your gaze to the older brother. "Hey, Dean."

He didn't respond and kept staring at something over your shoulder.

"Dean, please" you began. "Please stop ignoring me." You felt tears swelling in your eyes and a sob tearing through your throat. "I don't want to die knowing you hate me."

Dean stood up so sudden that you flinched. Looking up you met his furious stare. "I don't hate you" he said. "But I can't believe you were so stupid. Are so stupid!"

"Dean" Sam warned with a serious glare.

"You knew you could get pregnant and die. And still!" he didn't finish his thoughts but he didn't have to.

"I knew the risks" you defended yourself and wrapped your arms around you in a protective manner.

"But we didn't! Maybe you had prepared yourself for this case but Sam and I..." Dean faltered. "We just now have to come to terms with the fact that we will lose you soon."

You bit your lip and turned away. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to force back the tears but you were unsuccessful. Sobbing violently you buried your face in your hands.

"I'm afraid, Dean. I don't want to die" you confessed.

"But I especially don't want to leave this world when you two are still mad at me. This child" you put one hand on your stomach. "My child will need you two when I can't be there."

Suddenly you felt two arms wrapped around you and at first you thought they were Sam's but when you looked up slightly you saw that it was Dean hugging you. He mumbled something you weren't able to hear properly, so you just returned the hug, clinging onto him.

"You're so stupid" Dean now properly said but not in an accusing manner. You laughed shallow, whipping away your tears.

"Thanks."

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Pregnancy week 12: You looked at yourself in the mirror with your hands placed on your stomach which already had a small but still quite obvious bump. The baby should have the size of a plum now however you already gained about two pounds of weight. Slowly you stroke over your bump. You weren't able to feel any movement yet but somehow you couldn't stop hugging your unborn child. Maybe because this was the closest you would ever be with them.

You looked up from your reflection to see Gabriel leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed before his chest. You turned your head to meet his gaze and raised one eyebrow in question. "What's up?"

He only shook his head with a smile and walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle to rest his hands on the small bump. With a smile you leaned against him and placed your hands on top of yours.

"Nothing, sugar" the archangel whispered in your ear before leaving a feather-light kiss on your neck. You giggled and placed you head on his shoulder so you were able to glance at him from the corner of your eye. He continued to caress the soft, sensible skin while slowly stroking over your belly. You closed your eyes and just enjoy the contact, making quiet humming noises until his hands slowly wandered lower with yours still on top of his hands. Your eyes shot open to meet Gabriel's mischievous ones. He had put his head right beside yours.

"What are you doing?" you asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Enjoying some alone time with my beautiful girl" he answered with a smirk. His hands had found their place on the inner side of your thighs. You couldn't hold back the snort.

"I'm pregnant" you stated. "I have pregnancy acne, raging hormones, morning sickness and I constantly have to urinate!"

"Still beautiful."

You turned around in his arms with one raised eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

The archangel straightened up, looking down at you with warm, sparkling eyes.

"I'm always serious, (Y/N)."

"Biggest lie of the century" you stated bluntly. With your hands against his chest you pressed him a few inches away from you so you could look properly at his face. His eyes never seemed warmer when they traveled over the features of your face. Slowly he wrapped his arms around your middle, sneaking around to the small of your back, tipping you off balance. With little choice given you clung to his chest to safe yourself from falling. You blinked at him expectantly with your fingers curled into his shirt. His mouth hovered only a few inches over yours as the corners of his eyes crinkled up in a smile. He let his eyes wander for a little more until they stopped at your lips. You felt his breath hot on them. Everything you had been worrying about was long forgotten. In this exact moment there were only you and Gabriel, no greater threat, no angels who wanted to kill you, no set date for your untimely end, nothing to worry about. Just you and the archangel you loved. You felt Gabe's arms tightening around you, pressing you even further into him so your feet were uselessly dangling over the floor, only the tips of your toes touching the ground without giving any real support at all. You had never yearned for him, for his touch so strongly before.

His lips brushed over yours in a teasing manner before he quickly pulled away, out of reach even as you moved your head towards him. Groaning quietly to vent out your frustration and annoyance you also furrowed your brows at him.

"Patience, sugar" he breathed with half-lidded eyes. You growled annoyed and shot him a furious glare which only earned you a chuckle from the archangel. One of his hands slowly wandered from your back to one of your legs, slightly lifting it and pushing it against his side. Another groan left your lips as you tried to pull him down to you.

"Hmm, someone's eager" he smirked.

"Oh, shut up already and kiss me!" you demanded while unsuccessfully pressing yourself further into him. It only took him a fraction of a second to close the almost not existing gap between you two. Sighing you let your body relax, you melted into his touch as his lips moved over yours. The kiss didn't start slow, oh no. A kiss with Gabriel always felt hot and needy and this time it also demanded more. You tasted the faintest hint of chocolate still lingering on his lips, sending your senses spiraling out of control. Opening your mouth with a low moan you felt your one leg giving away under you. Not that it was very helpful in keeping you upright anyway. Still rather startled you tightened your grip on Gabriel's shirt, deepening the kiss in the process. Your body felt like it was on fire.

And then the next thing you knew was that you were lying on your bed with Gabriel's body pinning you down into the cushions, his lips never leaving yours. He directed your leg that he still held against him to his waist. Immediately you wrapped it around him, pressing him down to you with another moan.

Your lips parted, allowing you to finally take in some air again. Gabriel pulled back a bit to look down at you with lustful eyes so full of love as his other hand slowly moved over your stomach, caressing the small bump. Then his lips met your neck, gliding over the skin until he had found your weak spot. You closed your eyes and bit your bottom lip but the mix of a moan and a sigh still escaped your mouth as you curled your fingers at his nape. Squirming under him you tried to suppress all the sounds spilling over your lips. Emphasis on tried because you failed miserably.

"Gabe" you panted, clinging onto him as if he was the last piece of wood to save you from drowning. You were in a complete daze, not witnessing anything that could have happened around you, the only thing you noticed was Gabriel and his touches. He let go of your neck, definitely leaving a hickey behind but you didn't care. You would just have to remember to leave one on his neck too. Opening your eyes again you stared at him, your chest raising and falling as you gasped for air. You still felt his hand softly moving over your stomach while your grip around his nape slowly loosened. Gabriel smirked, definitely pleased with his result. Suddenly very self-conscious, you already felt your cheeks getting hot, you looked away. But Gabriel wouldn't let that happen, not on his watch. Cupping your cheek with one hand -the other one had settle on your waist- he directed your gaze back to him as he leaned in closer.

"I love you, (Y/N)" he whispered before capturing your lips in another kiss.

You could only moan into the kiss in response as you continued to enjoy his touches which grew more heated and daring. Not that they had ever been modest to begin with.

Gabriel definitely showed you how beautiful you were to him.

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Pregnancy week 16: You had gained four more pounds, six in total now. The bump was even more noticeable. In fact it grew so much, that you found anything other than leggings unbearable to wear. So that is what you did: Wearing comfortable leggings while wrapped in a blanket on the sofa in the library with a cup of tea in your hands. Since you weren't able to drink much coffee nowadays but still wanted something warm to drink you switched to tea.

You directed the cup to your face when you felt the sofa dip and two arms wrapped themselves around you. With a squeak you tried not to spill anything on yourself and then turned towards the person next to you with sullen looks.

"Gabriel" you warned but he didn't react. Instead he grabbed the cup out of your hands to put it down on the table in front of him.

"What are we both doing today, sugar?" he asked with a wide grin.

"I was just enjoying my tea befo- huh!" you began before you were suddenly pinned underneath the archangel, his face dangerously close to yours. But from so near you saw the worry and sadness in his eyes. Perplexed you blinked at him. "Gabe? Are you alright?"

He shook his head before burying his face in your neck. "Everything is well, (Y/N). You don't have to worry about me."

In that moment it hit you. He is still...

"But you're still worrying about me, aren't you?"

At first the archangel on top of you didn't move. But then you heard him sigh before he finally sat up.

"(Y/N) ... How can I not?"

You huffed and tried to sit up to but since Gabriel had his legs still to either side of you, you weren't really able to straighten up properly.

"Gabriel ... Gabe, listen. I know all this isn't" you paused and shoved him of you so you could sit in front of him and face him properly. "ideal. But I stopped worrying so you should, too."

You hoped he would buy your lie so you immediately continued. You didn't want to think about all this now. You had enough weeks to come to worry about it.

"There are far more fun things to do today anyway."

Gabriel's eyebrows rose as he eyed you expectantly with a wide grin. He leaned forward but was stopped by your hands pressed against his chest.

"Not that kind of fun, Gabe!" you laughed but got pressed into the cushions anyway. Your face got peppered with kisses while you giggled profusely. "Gabriel, sto-" you started but got silenced by his lips on top of yours. You hummed into the kiss, any resistance was immediately forgotten as you melted in his arms. Your arms wrapped themselves around Gabe's neck almost automatically while he held himself upright with one arm and caressed your side with the other.

"Guys, really? Don't you have a room?"

You flinched, knocking heads with Gabriel when you tried to sit up. Groaning you let yourself fall back down. However, the archangel straightened up to face the older Winchester who had just entered the room.

"Come on, I know you enjoy a good show, Dean."

You gasped in shock and pushed Gabriel off of you with your foot. "Gabe!" you yelped and threw a pillow in his face when you saw the pleased grin on his face. Sitting up you looked apologetically at Dean who had one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, Dean. I was actually waiting for someone to arrive at the bunker before featherbrains distracted me" you explained. "Do you know if they arrived yet?"

"Who?" Gabriel asked, looking up at you since he was still lying on the sofa. You pushed another pillow in his face to silence him and turned around to look at your phone that was lying on the table next to your half empty cup of tea.

"I think a car parked in front of the bunker... I actually wanted to ask you if one of you knew who it was" Dean said.

You jumped up, ran your fingers through your hair to clean it up a little and jogged up the staircase to the entrance door without answering Dean. When you opened the door you saw them in front of you, one hand raised and about to knock at the door.

"(F/N)!" you said excited and hugged them immediately.

"Hey, (Y/N)" they responded with an equally tight hug.

"Thanks, for coming by. I'm unable to leave this place because of safety reasons" you explained after letting go of them and leading them inside.

"No problem, I have everything we need" they said and pointed to the suitcase in their hand. Nodding you walked back down to meet the very confused faces of Dean and Gabe.

"Hey, I'm (F/N)" your friend introduced themselves. "I was (Y/N)'s former partner for hunts.”

“Before she decided to pursue her dreams of being active in the medical field” you added and bumped playfully into her side.

The two men nodded.

"So, what are you doing here?" Dean asked.

You placed your hands on the noticeable bump: "For check-ups. Also, if the baby is lying right we can detect which gender they have."

Gabriel immediately beamed with excitement as he jumped up from the sofa, following you and your friend to your room.

After about twenty minutes your friend had set everything up and you were lying expectantly in your bed with Gabe sitting beside you.

"What do you think it will be?" he asked. You grinned at him.

"I don't know, but they will challenge you nevertheless." He huffed.

"I'm great with children."

"Since when? Have you even seen one?" you laughed which only earned you a slight nudge against your shoulder.

"Are you two ready?" (F/N) asked with a smile. You nodded but flinched as they covered your bare stomach with the cold substance. Looking at the monitor you tried to make out any shapes.

"Look, there is the head" your friend said and traced it with their finger. That was the moment you saw your baby for the first time. Blindly you searched for Gabriel's hand as tears sprang into your eyes. The archangel squeezed your hand reassuringly.

"Can you see what it is?" he asked.

Your friend hummed and moved the scanner around a bit.

"Yup!"

You squeezed Gabriel's hand even more. Your heart beat frantically.

"It's a girl."

You couldn't hold back the sob and immediately turned to Gabriel for a hug.

"We have to come up with a name soon, sugar" he whispered in your ear while drawing circles on your back until you had calmed down again. Damn, you were a wreck today ... any day.

Let's just say: agreeing to one name was a hassle.

Whenever you found a name you liked Gabriel would have some kind of personal conflict with the name.

"What about ... Nidia? This one sounds cute" you said and looked up from your phone to meet Gabriel's eyes. He sat on the other side of the sofa also looking onto his phone.

"I once knew a Nidia. She was very flex-hey!" Gabriel blinked perplexed at you and then at the pillow that you had thrown at him and was now lying in his lap.

"I once told you that I don't care about all your past affairs" you began with a huff. "But are you kidding me? Every name I suggest? Really?!"

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "No one can resist my charm, sug-" he got cut off again by another pillow to his face. He threw you a sulky look.

"Is there one name you haven't moaned?" you asked bluntly and crossed your arms before your chest. He shrugged his shoulders again with a grin which earned him his third pillow.

____________________

Pregnancy week 17: Everything seemed to slowly settle itself in. Your pregnancy acne was gone, your belly was growing profusely and you were motivated to continue the recordings for your baby girl. You had made one every single day for the past week, talking about your life, the pregnancy, your wishes for your baby.

You were also motivated to find a name that had no previous history for Gabriel. Let's just say ... you would have more options if the baby was a boy.

The only thing that calmed your nerves when you had to cross out another name was food. Something you craved right now was hot Cheetos dipped into yogurt. Normally disgusting but at the moment the best thing you could eat. These pregnancy cravings were weird.

However, currently you were lying in bed scrolling through your phone for names again. The archangel was next to you, pressing you against his chest as he looked over your shoulder. You opened your moth to speak but before you could you were interrupted.

"Before you say anything: I knew a Rayna, too."

You turned towards him with a scowl. Pushing him off of you, you rolled over so he could no longer look at the screen. "You are getting on my nerves, Gabriel."

"Sorry, sugar. But-" he started but you snapped.

"When you say something about your charm again I will beat you up with a pillow."

It stayed silent after that for a while but not distant. Gabriel's hand found your stomach almost immediately. You sighed and nuzzled into him.

"Is there no name that comes to your mind?" you asked defeated, looking up from your phone. Gabriel's warm eyes looked apologetically at you as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry, sweetcheeks. The only name on my mind right now is yours" he said and winked at you.

You snorted and slid over to let yourself be wrapped in Gabe's arms. Inhaling his scent you let yourself be lulled into his warmth.

"You are such a smooth talker" you huffed.

"But it works every time" he smirked. You shook your head and punched him lightly in the chest.

"You never shut your mouth, too."

"You know" the archangel began. "I could say the same thing about you."

Perplexed you pressed yourself away from him to look at his face again.

"What?" Gabriel chuckled.

"You recently began to snore while sleeping." Your eyes widen and your cheeks grew hot as you stared at him. Stammering something uncoherent before you shook your head to clear your thoughts.

"I do not!"

Gabriel laughed and hugged you tightly against him again. "Yes, you do."

"I refuse to believe that” you mumbled into his chest before freeing yourself from his hug, still very embarrassed. The archangel shrugged and lied back onto his back. With a sigh you grabbed your phone again and mindlessly scrolled down for a while before randomly stopping. You read all the names listed on that part until you found yourself stuck on one. You sat up, pushing your hair behind your ear.

"What do you think about Liora? I really like its meaning: 'My Light'."

Gabriel thought about it for a moment but you didn't see recognition on his face. Did you do it? Did you find a name he didn't have a connection to? Then he shook his head. "I don't recall knowing anyone with that name. Liora ... yes, that sounds beautiful." You were more than relieved as you slumped back into the pillows.

____________________

Pregnancy week 18: It was all a hoax. Nothing was better. You felt miserable. You were unable to sleep properly again like before you knew about the pregnancy. Your mind just couldn't find rest. Your thoughts were racing every time at night when everything got quiet.

On top of that did the sides of your belly hurt like hell. You had asked your friend about it and they said that it was probably because of your womb expanding. So now you were unable to sleep because of mental and physical stuff. And being pregnant with no sleep meant you were cranky all the time. And when you were cranky you got headaches. And when you had headaches you couldn't fall asleep. It was a vicious cycle.

What you needed right now was your archangel boyfriend. However, that wasn't possible since he was on a hunt with Sam and Dean. Castiel was still in the bunker with you but he would be joining them shortly. He stayed behind to help you with the last parts of research before he would teleport to the location. He was browsing through several books he had displayed on the table while you were leaning over one single book. You were sitting on the opposite side of the table, rereading the last paragraph for the fifth time now and slowly you lost your patience with yourself. Growling you pressed the palms of your hands against your eyes, trying to sooth the throbbing headache that was pounding against your skull.

"Is everything alright?" asked a voice and suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. Flinching you turned around to look at Castiel. With a sigh you waved him off and looked back down at the book.

"Yes, everything is just peachy."

"I can heal you symptoms if you want?" Castiel continued. You glanced back at him from over your shoulder.

"You can do that?"

The angel nodded. "But it won't last forever since I can't remove the source of your pain."

"Doesn't matter, I just want to have a few minutes without any pain" you explained, turning around in the chair eagerly to fully look at him.

"Can I?" he asked, his hand hovering over your stomach. You looked down at the ever growing bump and nodded. "Of course."

The moment Castiel had placed his hand over it you felt a warmth run through your entire body. A sigh left your lips. And when Cas withdrew his hand you couldn’t believe that you felt nothing other than good. "Thank you, Cas" you said with a smile, stood up and hugged the angel. Rather stiffly he returned it. "Your welcome, (Y/N)."

Cas called Dean after the two of you finished the research and teleported away which meant that you were completely alone right now and had enough time to record something for your baby girl again. You hadn't shown or told anything that you did that. When you were finished you wanted to safe it on a USB stick and tell Gabe to give it to her when she needed it. Because this was something personal between you and your baby.

You sat everything up and pressed the record button.

"Hey sweetie" you waved with a wide smile. Now that Cas had healed your symptoms for a while you felt really good and energetic. You felt motivated.

"You know, I really wished I could spoil you rotten" you confessed and pushed some strains of your hair back with a chuckle.

"But knowing Gabe I guess he is probably spoiling you enough for the both of us."

You fell silent for a few moments as seriousness washed over you. You had no idea how the life of your girl would be but if wouldn't be easy. You were sure that Gabriel and Cas would help her with her angel side and Dean and Sam with her human one. But there were still many dangers out there. She would still be a target for other angels. You shook your head and continued to speak about more cheerful things.

"I wonder what your favorite color is... I guess nothing to girly since you will be surrounded by a lot of guys in your life. However, that could also mean you could lean towards more feminine colors to define yourself and distance yourself from the boys." You huffed, placed your chin on your palm and thought for a moment.

"I'm just gonna follow my intuition and say it's purple. Let me know if I'm right" you winked.

"I should stop. Oh, but before I go: Your Dad and I finally decided on a name for you!" you grinned and took a deep breath.

"Mom loves you, Liora."

And with that you stopped the recording.

____________________

Pregnancy week 19: You were in need of new clothes. Not like wanting to buy new stuff but really, really needing something to wear because of your growing belly and no matter how embarrassing it was... because of your enlarged breasts, too. You needed new bras, okay! Nothing to be distressed about. But damn was it unusual. And okay, you felt really embarrassed by it. It didn't help that Gabriel was obviously staring at them, too. Not that you could blame him…

"Stop it, Gabe!" you yelped and crossed your arms before your chest, pinning the blanket against you to cover your breasts. "That's inappropriate."

The archangel snorted and walked towards your sitting form on the bed.

"I saw you in far more revealing clothes" he explained, now standing directly in front of you. You eyed his hand that slowly creeped closer to your arms. He slowly pushed them down which lead to the blanket falling to your lap, revealing your -by a normal shirt covered- breasts.

"I also saw you naked more than once, sweetchecks."

Looking away you already felt your face heat up.

"It makes me self-conscious" you mumbled.

"Oh, sugar" Gabriel said and hoisted you up on your feet. He intertwined both of your hands and pulled you against him. "There is no need to feel embarrassed. You're always beautiful."

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face against his chest.

"It's still embarrassing. Or at least, I mean ... I don't know! It's just different" you tried to explain. "Everything's so different."

Gabriel hummed, stroking your hair while wrapping his other arm also around you.

"I try to be positive, Gabe" you take a deep breath and buried your nails into his shirt. "But it's hard when you know you will die."

"You know that they are searching for a solution, right?"

You pushed yourself slightly away so you could see his face. "Solution?"

He nodded: "Sam and Dean are looking for something that can safe you. Something maybe not even we angels know about."

"What? They can't!" you yelled shocked which earned you a confused face from the archangel. You shook your head.

"Stuff like that, plans like that never end well" you stopped and took a deep breath. "It always ends with someone else sacrificing themselves and I won't let them do that for me."

Gabriel tightened the hug again, pressing you against him again.

"I'm sure they won't do anything stupid" he tried to reassure you.

"Okay, now that is the biggest lie of the century" you said with a snort.

"Oh, can you help me with something, Gabe?" you asked, pushing away again to look at his warm eyes.

"Anything you want, sugar" he said and wiggled his eyebrows. Rolling your eyes you freed yourself from his arms. "Not that kind of problem, Gabriel. I need new clothes" you pointed down at you. "And since I can't leave I need you to work your magic and produce me a new wardrobe that will fit." The archangel snapped his fingers immediately and then gestured to your closet.

"Done."

You opened the closet door and nodded before turning around to face him again with a smile.

"That reminds me: We need to get a few more things."

It was now a few hours later and you were currently looking for Sam and Dean. You desperately needed to talk to them about their probably very stupid plan. And low and behold where did you find them? The library, researching some way to safe you.

"There is no way" you said, leaning against the door frame. Immediately the heads of the two men turned to you. "What do you mean?" Sam asked and desperately tried to cover up the book he was reading. Dean instantly stood up, walking towards you.

"Are you alright?" he asked which made you sigh and roll your eyes.

"Yes, Dean. Don't try to distract me, though" you warned and sat down in front of Sam. "I know what you two are doing and I won't allow it."

Sam rose an eyebrow in uestion while Dean sat back down.

"You two are trying to find a way to safe me."

"And?" Dean huffed. "We just ... Don't want you to die."

"Dean, you-" you stopped and took a deep breath. "Do you realize to what this always leads? How it always ends?" The two Winchesters watched you silently.

"It always leads to someone else sacrificing themselves and I won't let you do that for me. I forbid it!" you slammed your hands on the table and stood up, trying to fight back the tears.

"Why (Y/N)? We can decide that for ourselves" Dean challenged you, also standing up.

"No, you can't because I am the one who would have to live with the sacrifice!" you screamed. After that everything seemed to stand still. You blinked unmoving and then slowly straightened up, crossing your arms before your chest. You took a deep breath.

"I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew about the risks. It's my decision to let this baby live and to bear the consequences" you clarified. Shaking your head you turned away from the two brothers who hadn't dared to speak up again and walked towards the door. When you were standing in the frame you turned to face them again.

"Come with me. I want to show you two something."

You led them in front of your room. With your hand on the handle you turned to look at them again. Then you opened the door energetically. Coming to light was your newly decorated room. You entered with the Winchesters in tow and sat down on the bed.

"Gabriel and I decided to make my room baby proof" you explained and then let them see for themselves. The complete left side of the room was now decorated like a kid’s room. Next to your bed stood a crib with a fitting mobile attached to it. On the wall next to it was a diaper-changing unit and a few shelves with books and toys inside of it. A soft fuzzy carpet was draped on the floor and some star and moon stickers were on the left wall now. You sighed and grabbed the romper which laid next to you on the bed while Sam and Dean's eyes were still fixated on the new furniture.

"You will have a lot to do in a few weeks" you said with a grin, your eyes glued to the onesie in your hands. Then you turned it around so you could show them the print on it. On the front it read "Princess".

"Because it will be a little girl." You hadn't told them this before now. Somehow you didn't know how you should do it but you couldn't delay it anymore.

Sam immediately had a huge smile on his face as he took a step forward, reaching a hand out, asking you to hold the romper. You gave it to him with a small smile. In the mean time you focused on Dean who was still frozen, staring at the wall.

"Dean?" Your voice seemed to snap him out of it. But when he turned towards you, something you weren't prepared for were tears. "No, don't" you said, already feeling your own tears wetting your eyes. "You will make me cry, too."

You stood up and wrapped your arms around the older Winchester. "I don't want to cry today."

It stayed quiet for a few moments before you felt Dean's grip tighten. "(Y/N)" he started. "How do you expect of me to not search for another solution?" You didn't answer since he wasn't expecting one anyway. "You're family, (Y/N). I can't just let you die."

You sobbed, pressing even further into his chest.

"You know I don't want to die, Dean" you said. "But what I want even less is one of you dying because of me." It got silent after that again, neither spoke up.

"My baby girl will need you, Dean. Please stop searching for a solution that will cost more than I'm willing to give. For me, as my last wish."

"… okay, (Y/N)."

To be continued: Part 3 is here.

____________________

#supernatural #supernatural gabriel #supernatural gabriel x reader #gabriel x reader #gabriel image #supernatural image #supernatural dean #supernatural sam #supernatural castiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #supernatural characters #image #x reader #female reader #pregnant reader

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jenomark · 4 years

Text

Part 1

➔Pairing: Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Jisung, 3 unknown members ➔Genre: Supernatural Thriller ➔Warnings: Mentions of mental illness | Blood | Violence | Fingering (F) ➔Word count: 5,040

➔Definition of stranger 1: one who is strange: such as a person or thing that is unknown or with whom one is unacquainted

You sat across from your therapist, crossing and uncrossing your legs, the feeling of discomfort making you itch. Your skin stuck to the vinyl when you moved, and you were suddenly catapulted back in time, to diner booths and first dates that went wrong. You were too aware of the dimples on your thighs, then and now. The scar on your knee, in your mind, stuck out as a reminder that you were not quite comfortable in your own skin. You moved your hand in front of your leg and tried to focus on the question, but even in front of him, you didn’t feel like you were being honest.

“When did I last feel happy with myself?” you asked.

He nodded and wrote something down on his notepad, his eyes still on yours so you’d know he was paying attention. You could feel his mind moving from thought to thought, none of them about you. He didn’t leave the kettle on. He had to pick up his clothes from the dry cleaners. His wife was definitely cheating on him with her work husband.

“Isn’t that question hard to answer?” you asked.

“Don’t think too much about it,” he said. He rolled a piece of hard candy around on his tongue. Your eyes flew to the wrapper on the floor, the one that missed the trash can by an inch. “It’s not meant to be serious.”

Oh, but everything is serious.

You were the wrapper missing everything by just an inch. The last time you felt happy with yourself was when you were a child and you didn’t know what cruelty other people were capable of. You wanted to be the candy, the sweetness melting on tongues and rotting teeth, a chewy center not yet knowing it would be digested in the stomach of the wicked.

“Don’t think too much about it.” he repeated.

You left his office still thinking about it. You had answered with a lie that any stranger could see through. You were always so thinly-veiled and transparent, as your mother liked to say. You stepped out onto the street to wait for your ride, wondering if the people who moved throughout the city could see through you, too.

“Do you have a cigarette?” a voice asked.

You shook your head no without making eye contact. You didn’t want to see what they looked like, how they could judge you with their eyes. You waited until they walked away until you looked at them, looked but never really saw.

A car pulled up and stopped inches from the curb. A loud honk and a head hanging out of the window, you forced a smile. You got in and let the man driving kiss you on the mouth. He wasn’t your boyfriend, and he wasn’t your best friend. You called him when you were lonely, when you needed a ride, and had sex with him for the same reasons.

“How did it go?” he asked, his hot breath on your face.

You pulled away from him and looked out of the window. He placed his hand on your thigh and slid it up underneath your skirt. Your thighs were sticking to vinyl again, and when you opened your legs to allow his fingers inside, you closed your eyes. You didn’t want to answer the question, didn’t want to feel it all rolling back to you.

“Well,” you told your therapist. “The last time I felt happy was a few months ago.”

“And what happened then?”

The lies were easy to come by. You picked them up and hauled them over your shoulder to take on every trip you ever went on. As your not-boyfriend fingered you in the backseat of his car, you plucked another lie from the air.

“It went well.” you said.

“I have to get gas,” he said, taking the key out of the ignition. “And wash my hands.”

Before the car turned off, you could see that his tank was nearly full. You pulled your skirt further down your thighs and nodded. He leaned in to kiss you, the smirk on his lips making them thin and hard. You faked a smile of gratitude for everything, which seemed to satisfy him. He hummed a tune as he left the car, slamming the door so hard your teeth rattled.

“Fuck.” you whispered underneath your breath.

You watched him walk into the convenience store, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. You put your head back on the headrest and thought about what you would do whenever you made it home. There were a million things to do and never enough time to do them. You envisioned the post-it notes stuck to your fridge, each square scribbled with responsibilities that brought hot bile up your throat.

“Fuck. Fuck.” you said.

You closed your eyes and opened your heavy lids slowly, the gas pump coming into view. The lazy purr of car engines nearly lulled you to sleep. The heat made your tongue swell. You picked up your purse from the floor and rummaged through it for a stick of mint gum, anything to ease the queasy feeling in your stomach. When you looked back up, it was because you could hear arguing coming from the convenience store.

“Shit.” you said.

A rack of potato chips fell over, and you could see your not-boyfriend waving his hands around in protest, the veins practically popping out of his neck. The screaming was getting louder. You looked around for someone to come running to save the day, but the gas station was empty, except for you. You couldn’t see a clerk from where you were sitting, just the back of a man in a white t-shirt. The man was calm, his arms down by his side, his spine ramrod straight. Your hand was on the handle, your heart beating against your chest. You pulled your purse up by its straps and rummaged around for your phone to call him, but you couldn’t find it. You could feel the hysteria bubbling to the surface, the loss of control and feeling of helplessness. When the car door opened, your energy shifted. Nothing felt real. You looked up but didn’t look over. You kept hold of your bag, your fingers twitching around the straps.

“Don’t scream.”

You could hear the blood rushing through your veins. You were silent, your eyes on the floor, on an old bottle of beer just by your toes.

“Let go of the handle.”

You let go of the handle. The metal thumped, the sound making you focus. You looked back into the convenience store to see that everything seemed normal, but it was empty of people. The car started, the engine roaring to life. You looked back down at your purse and closed your eyes.

“I won’t hurt you.”

You thought about how many times you had heard that in your life. Mouths of men and women, of the little boy down the street with his slingshot pointed right between your eyes. Your father. Your mother. Your therapist. You resisted the urge to ball yourself up like crumpled paper ready to be shot into a waste bin.

The car drove. You imagined a reality where the car would drive itself, propelled mostly by fear. You waited until you were on the road and the stranger in your car was watching it carefully, to look over at him. He didn’t look at you, but he could feel you.

He was young, maybe younger than you. His baby face didn’t match his body, the tight veins in his arm, the shadow of hair on his chin. He was wearing a white, wrinkled t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His dark, brown hair was sticking up all over, a few curls here and there, and the ends of his strands dipped in sweat. You stole a look away from him and out of the window, but you could see his reflection turn to look at you.

You covered your knee and pulled your skirt down until you heard a ripping sound. You looked in the rear view mirror and tried to see if a cop car was chasing you. There were sirens in the distance, and you could feel how unsettling they were. You were terrified of a shoot out. You were imagining every possibility about the ending of the situation, and most of them ended with your death.

“Relax,” he said. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

You looked at him, your eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, so you just scowled. He swerved lanes abruptly, making your purse fly from your lap. You gripped the dashboard and felt the fear clawing at your throat. He laughed and kept a tight grasp on the steering wheel.

“How about some music?” he said. He pushed a few buttons, but none of them worked. The car was too old. He hit the steering wheel with the edge of his palm and said, “Okay, no music.”

The sirens were getting closer. You straightened yourself, and he watched you from the corner of his eye. You turned back to see the cop car tailing behind you. He placed a hand on your thigh, and you visibly shuddered. The car slowed and moved to the side of the road. You were waiting for the car to come to a full-stop before flinging yourself out of the door and running toward the cop. That’s what you saw people do in movies. You didn’t think you would have quite the same finesse.

“Don’t even think about it.” he said.

He grabbed your hand and held it over the cup holders, his fingers tight around yours. You looked at his hand and remembered that you hadn’t held hands with someone in years. He noticed you looking and softened his grip. The car came to a full-stop, but the cop car had rolled past you.

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“What?” he asked. “No. I’m just trying to get home.”

He started driving again. You were both still holding hands. The people in the car next to you looked over. You were going to mouth the word “help” but they drove too fast. Your brain was struggling to come up with what to do when he let go of your hand.

“Do you want me to kill you?” he asked.

He caught you off guard. You looked at him and said, “No.”

“Good,” he said. “No one has to die today.”

He reached into his pocket with his other hand still on the steering wheel and pulled a knife from its depths. There was blood on it, its surface glistening iron. He dropped it into the cup holder and used an old brown napkin to wipe his hands clean.

“Did you kill him?” you asked.

He smiled. “Your boyfriend? I should have.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

He used the turn signal to switch lanes onto the highway. For miles you looked out of the window and watched the city landscape passing by. Brown trees and abandoned factory buildings came into view the further you went. You read the graffiti on the walls. You listened to the music coming from cars racing by. You thought about how you had lived there your whole life but never really explored beyond your neighborhood. When you got off the highway and came to a stop on a side street, he took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. You watched him walk around to your side and open the door.

“I need you to drive.” he said.

You got out of the car and stood beside him. You were the same height. He looked you in your eyes head-on for the first time. He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head to tell you which direction to go in. All the way to the driver's seat he followed you, his shoes nearly stepping on your heel. You got into the seat, the warmth on your back making you feel queasy again. You touched the ignition hoping that the key would suddenly appear and you could make your getaway. He got into the passenger’s seat, leaned over and stuck the key back in.

“Don’t try anything, “ he said. “It won’t be worth it. Drive.”

You noticed a scar on his eyebrow, the hair missing in a perfect line. He tilted his head, his impatience evident by the expression on his face. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip and looked forward. You turned the car on and drove, the act not too familiar to you.

“Where am I going?” you asked.

“Left. After the second light, make a right,” he said. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No.”

“Finding your way back shouldn’t be too hard.”

There was a glimmer of hope that maybe he wouldn’t really hurt you. You followed his direction with a lighter heart, taking care to navigate the narrow streets without hitting a trash can on the curb. A stray cat ran across the street, causing you to slam on the breaks. He touched the dashboard to steady himself.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

You winced, scared that he was going to yell at you. He let go of the dashboard and nodded that everything was okay. You kept driving. Left. Right. U-turn because you missed the street. When you pulled up to a seedy motel, he told you to park on the street and not in the lot. You did as you were told.

“How much cash do you have on you?” he asked.

“I don’t carry much cash.” you said, kicking yourself because you almost sounded apologetic.

He picked up your purse and found your wallet. He lifted his butt off the seat and jammed your whole wallet in the pocket of his sweatpants. Your eyes swept over the bloody knife. If you were fast enough, you could jab it in his throat, kick his body out of the car and drive away. As if reading your thoughts, he fixed you with a distrustful look.

“I have your ID,” he said. “I know where you live. If you call the cops or say anything, I’ll find you. Do you understand?”

The way he was rattling off the words sounded like he’s said them often. You blinked a few times and placed your hands on the steering wheel.

“I understand.” you said.

“Cool,” he said. “Thanks for the ride.”

He put his hand on the handle and opened the car door. As soon as he shut the door, you opened the drivers side and got out.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking around. “Get back in the car.”

“No,” you said. “You got what you needed from me. My..friend..is he really okay?”

He stared over you at the hood of the car and searched your face. He bit down on his lips, dug into his other pocket and pulled out another ID. He placed it on top of the hood so that you could read the name clearly.

“I don’t kill people,” he said. “Now, please, get back into your car and drive away. You don’t belong here.”

You slowly sank back down in your seat. He was already walking across the parking lot, his white t-shirt sticking to his back. He made it to a room, stuck a key in the lock, opened it and went inside, shutting the door softly behind him. You counted the doors. Number 11. You sat and watched the door for a few minutes, contemplating what you should do next.

“I belong here.” you muttered to yourself.

You got out of the car and shut the door. You saw your reflection in the window and nearly stopped the bravado. Your hair was stuck to the side of your neck, and your make-up was smudged from the heat. One of your blouse buttons was undone, revealing your bra. You felt sick at the thought that you sat through a whole car ride with your bra hanging out. You tugged at your skirt and turned back towards the motel, your insecurities melting as fast as your foundation. You reached in through the window and grabbed a folded napkin. You used that to pick up the bloody knife and clean it before you jammed it into your bra. You tossed the napkin onto the sidewalk with all the other trash and marched across the parking lot without a plan.

Door number 11 was blue. The paint was peeling off, the gold lettering rubbed off in some places to reveal the rusted metal underneath. A large window let purveyors see into the room if the old 90’s curtain was ever opened. The dust clinging to the edges made you think the room never saw the light of day. Every room on the front strip looked the same: vacant, sad. You poised your fist to knock on the door when it opened. An old woman was standing there, her eyes so blue you were transfixed.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

You raised your eyebrows to speak, but no words came out. She stood in a housecoat and slippers, her hands tightly wound around each other. You were getting ready to shake your head and tell the woman that you had the wrong room when he appeared behind her, his eyes full of anger.

“I told you to go home.” he said.

His contempt was obvious. You stepped back. The old woman moved out of the way when he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Stepping over the threshold, a move that never meant anything, now felt like everything. He was walking from his world into yours, and you were toying with the idea of doing the same. He pulled your wallet out of his pocket, opened it to find a few old emergency bills, opened the old woman's hand and placed the bills into it.

“I hope you find something to eat tonight,” he said. “I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay? Take care. Stay safe.”

She placed her free hand on the back of his neck and looked at him lovingly. He helped shut the door behind her, a kind mask on his face as he did. When he turned back to you, he removed the mask. He was livid.

“Leave.” he said.

You wanted to argue that it was your money, but doing so made you feel like a bad person. It didn’t matter. He could feel the argument on your lips, could read the accusation in your eyes before you could blink them away.

“It’s my birthday.” you said, lamely.

Your words surprised him. He chuckled darkly and ran his fingers through his hair. “Well,” he said. “Happy birthday. I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted.”

He walked away, leaving you standing there, like a fool. You followed. You didn’t know why you were following. He didn’t turn around to scold you, just shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed. He walked to the side of the motel, the only view a dumpster and a sad grassy hill with trash on it. The doors were even uglier, the facade even more depressing. You stood back as he used the key to open door 22, and step inside.

You didn’t know why you told him it was your birthday. You didn’t celebrate, didn’t care that another year had passed and made you older. Every birthday was spent trying to forget it and having someone bring it up again: your not boyfriend, your therapist, the unread text from your sister. You planned on going home and sleeping it off, but you found yourself standing outside of a dirty motel staring at a closed door, the knife sweaty against your breasts.

“I’ll leave.” you said, not sure that he could hear you.

You didn’t move. You could feel his eyes on you through the peephole. You turned to face the grassy hill and put your hand on your hips.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” he said.

He was leaning against the door frame, his head rubbing against the wood. He had a beer in his hands. You couldn’t stop staring at him. You wanted to know what happened. You guessed the excitement of it all drove you there, literally and figuratively.

“You helped that old woman.” you said.

“She’s not old, “ he said. “Just older.”

“But you kidnapped me.”

“You’re not a kid. You’re older than me.”

“You threatened me.”

“Did I?”

“You hurt the man I was with,” you said. “There was blood.”

“This is feeling like a bad movie,” he said. “Why are you still here? You’re supposed to be scared, run home like I did something bad to you, and tell all your friends about it to gain sympathy.”

“I don’t have friends,” you said. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t say anything.”

He rolled his eyes. “How noble of you. Strange man beats your boyfriend, steals a car with you in it, threatens to hurt you if you talk, and you’re still trying to befriend him. I have to wonder what kind of person that makes you.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know me, baby.”

You stood and stared at each other. He took a swig of beer and rubbed the side of his head. He looked exhausted. He bent over and picked up a coin from the ground. Watching him walking towards you made your knees shake. He took your hand and placed the coin into it, closing your fist after he was done.

“It’s good luck,” he said. “Take it.”

His face was so close to yours that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. He looked at your lips and let his gaze zigzag back up your face.

“Now, go,” he said.

He backed up, taking each step backwards like he had walked them before. He possessed something you lacked, something you found yourself craving. You were drawn in, your body pulling towards his like it was on a string. It felt like divine intervention, but you didn’t believe in things like that.

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll leave, but one last thing…”

The police sirens in the distance made both of you look to the road. It could barely be seen where you were standing, just slices of asphalt and the tail end of the parked car.

“ We have to go.” he said.

Everything moved in slow motion. You turned back to him, to see the horrified expression erasing any softness left in his eyes. You didn’t have time to wonder what could make a person like him feel so scared. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. The beer bottle slipped from his fingers and dropped onto the cement, sending both liquid and glass flying everywhere. You caught one last glimpse of the outside before he yanked you into the darkness of his motel room.

“Hurry.” he said.

Your eyes couldn’t adjust in time to see anything in the room, just the outline of a bed, and a wall with an air conditioner. He brought you both into a bathroom and shut the door. There was splintered wood on the floor, which you stepped over. He opened the shower curtain, its rings grating against the metal pole. The drain in the tub was yellowing, and the tiles on the wall were chipped, like teeth. The smell of mildew filled your nostrils as your breathing began to regulate. It was so hot in the tiny bathroom that both of you were sweating buckets. He jerked the window open to get some air inside, causing the sirens to pierce through the air.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

He peered out of the bathroom window, but all he could see was an alleyway. You didn’t tell him that you could hear people kicking in doors, because you knew he could hear it for himself. His shoulders dropped. He punched the wall, his fist breaking more tiles.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said. “I can’t keep living like this.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He didn’t seem to hear you. He looked at the bathroom door, at how frail the structure was. Whomever was beating down doors would eventually find them hiding out like cowards. If it were the police, you could just explain to them what you were doing there, and who you were. They would understand, and you could go the rest of your life using your tiny piece of escapism as something you remembered when you needed a pick-me-up. You looked at his body and knew he wouldn’t survive in jail, and perhaps that was what he was so afraid of.

He looked at his bloody fist and did nothing. He went back to the window. The sound of a shrill scream made a chill run down your spine. The old woman.

“This is why you should have left, “ he said. “It’s safer that way. No one gets hurt.”

There was a vacant look in his eyes, as he stepped away from the window. The noise was getting closer, getting louder. His hand slipped inside yours. He stepped into the bathtub and you did the same, the porcelain making your sandals squeak. The faucet dripped. A fly buzzed around the bathroom before settling on the ceiling. Slowly, he drew the shower curtain closed. You were too afraid to breathe, as the door to number 22 creaked open. He held you around your middle and pulled you so close to his body that you could feel every bit of him. You were shaking and sweating, your blouse soaked, and your button definitely open. He placed his finger up to your lips to order your silence.

You remembered what your therapist said as you dipped one foot out of his office. “Same time next week?”

The footsteps across the carpet sounded heavy. There were multiple feet, multiple breaths. Something was thrown across the room, with a sigh. You began to feel angry by how stupid your hiding spot was, by how little you knew about what was happening. By then, you sensed it wasn’t the police. You thought it must be his criminal friends, maybe someone he needed to square a debt with.

“I don’t see him.” a deep voice said.

Another voice, “Jisung, check the bathroom.”

His hold on you tightened. He placed his chin on your shoulder, his cheek resting against yours. You both stood as one. So much that when the door opened, you both inhaled at the same time.

“Jisung, check the bathroom.” a voice mocked as it entered the bathroom.

You could see the outline of a tall man, his hands seeming much larger in the shadow. Fingers curled around the shower curtain and pulled it back.

“Jisung, anything?” the deep voice called.

Jisung was hardly a man. Tall and lanky, he towered over both of you. He looked like an ordinary teenage boy, but there was something about his eyes that made you feel like you were staring at someone much older than their years. Those eyes were on you, outrage taking over the sweeter features of his face. From behind you, he whispered the softest “Please” you had ever heard from someone. It was a plea to Jisung.

“No,” Jisung said. “There isn’t anyone. It’s clear. He got away.”

You could feel the history between them. Jisung shook his head in disgust and closed the curtain. You let out the breath you had been holding and relaxed against his body. As the voices filtered out, he let you go, but he didn’t relax. He went to the window and banged on it to get the screen out. Years of grime kept it glued to the wall, and he took his frustrations out on it. You pulled the knife from your bra, pushed him aside, and cut the screen.

“How many people do you owe money to?” you asked.

“What?” he asked.

His eyes were on the knife. For the first time, in the sunlight, you could see two letters engraved on it: L. D.

“Can I have that back?” he asked.

You held it out in the palm of your hand and he took it, shoving it back into his pocket. He pushed the screen out and watched it tumble onto the cement.

“That’s me,” he said. “My name. I didn’t steal it from anyone. I don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I didn’t say-”

“-you didn’t have to.”

You told him your name. It came out like you were a child on your first date, like you were too nervous to spit out all the vowels so you kept one for yourself. He didn’t stop to acknowledge what you said, just climbed out of the window and landed on his feet. He held out his arms for you to fall into. You didn’t move, only stared at him through the window.

“I’m not moving until you tell me your name.” you said.

Yes, definitely a child.

He sighed. “I go by Haechan.”

You climbed through the window and let him help you down, his hands on your waist. When you were on the ground, the sun got in your eyes. The way the sun kissed his skin made you feel spellbound. He was pretty when he wasn’t throwing daggers at you with his eyes.

“This is where we part,” he said. “It’s best if you don’t speak about anything that happened. They won’t be able to find you if you don’t.”

“Who are they?” you asked. “Loan sharks? Gang members? Your family?”

“My family,” he asked. “Something like that. Look, you weren’t supposed to remember me. You were supposed to drive far away.”

“Is that what all your victims do?” you asked.

Haechan took you by your shoulders and pushed you up against the wall. The air was knocked from your lungs, and the pain in your shoulder made you yell out. He did it once more, but softly, as if he really didn’t want to do it.

“Go home, “ he said. “You and I are strangers now.”

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