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sofreddie · 2 months

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Not Our First Fan

Summary: Y/N is a friend, but also a fan. Dosing her with a truth serum should reveal if she's a threat, like other fans in the past. But what's revealed surprised them even more.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Rowena

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drugging, First POV/Alternating POV, Smut (Protected Sex, Oral Sex), Mentions of Breeding Kink

WC: 12, 393 (Yikes!)

A/N: Ok, so, over the course of a few months, when I had to take my roommate's kid to speech therapy, I sat in the car in the parking lot and just wrote. A little each time until it grew into this massive and awesome fic, and I am so happy to share it! Feedback is appreciated. : )

My Masterlist

Y/N POV

I sat in stunned silence across the table from Sam and Dean, my eyes flitting between them as I processed what Sam had just said. There was a truth serum in my drink. He had questions and didn’t trust my potential responses.

I hadn’t been with them long, an accident that landed me - a mere fan - in their lives. Although we had become amicable, I never thought they’d use such methods.

“So, what do you want to know?”

I was surprised at my calm tone as I polished off my drink and pushed the glass away. It was already in me; there was no need to be thirsty or sober.

“The truth.”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes at Sam before glancing at Dean, who sat silently and watched.

“We have to know; to protect ourselves. Not our first fan.”

I rolled my eyes again. I knew that, too, but it didn’t stop me from feeling offended.

“Is there a question, or…?”

Sam snorted at my attitude. There was no escaping this, so I hoped I could play it like it didn’t scare me or that I had nothing to hide.

“Fine.” He sat up straighter and shook his arms before leaning forward, casually resting his arms on the table as he leveled a heavy gaze at me. “How do you honestly think and feel about me?”

He smirked slightly at my surprised look. I didn’t want to answer, but I could feel the words bubbling up on their own, trying to hold them back, making me sick to my stomach.

“You’re really freakin’ hot. Nice to look at. I would love a night or two to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. But there’s a lot I don’t like, and I don’t see anything beyond friends because of your issues.”

My eyes widened with every word that fell, and I was mortified when I finished. I couldn’t read Sam, but he seemed equally surprised, smug, and offended. At least it shut him up for a minute. Dean, however, was unchanged and unreadable.

“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s working,” Sam huffed humorlessly.

I wished a hole would open and swallow me up, take me away from this forming shitstorm.

“So,” he leaned forward again, and I already knew what he would ask next. I shook my head, silently begging him not to. “How do you honestly think and feel about Dean?”

God, I fought. My fingers gripped the table, and I shook my head as pained sounds passed through my pressed-shut lips. The word vomit was collecting in the back of my throat to choke me.

"Y/N?" Sam pressed, probably wondering - same as myself - how I was holding back. Dean's shell cracked enough that I could see concern.

“I love and admire him,” I spat, the words painfully and forcefully pulled from me, my heart and mind feeling shredded with each uttered word. “I’m in love with him. I want to show him he is worthy of love and be the one to give it to him. And kids. And the Hunter Pie life. To give him all he ever wanted because he deserves it and more.”

Tears streamed down my face, and I panted to breathe as twin looks of utter shock passed over the brothers.

“Please,” I begged, jumping from my seat. “Please, no more. Don’t do this.”

As they hesitated, I took the opening and ran like hell from the Library to my room. I could hear them shouting as I retreated in horror.

“Don’t. Let her go, Sam.”

“Dean!”

I slammed and locked the bedroom door behind me, then slowly fell into bed, hard sobs wracking my body, and my heart shattered until I passed out.

I was determined to forget about it when I woke up. Or, I would do my best to ignore them and continue my usual domestic duties.

I went to the bathroom and the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. I liked helping out, and Dean especially seemed appreciative, which only encouraged me. Would that change now? Maybe they’d make me leave because what I said was too awkward.

As I finished cooking, I heard the Bunker door close, meaning Sam must have returned from his morning run and would be heading to the showers. Another door closing alerted me that Dean would be entering the kitchen at any moment seeking coffee.

I sipped from my mug on the island as he shuffled into the room like a half-asleep zombie and poured himself a cup. It took a few gulps before he could open his eyes enough to see me.

“Mornin’,” he spoke gruffly, and I fought back the swoon as usual.

“Mornin’,” I responded. “Uh, there’s breakfast. Help yourself.”

I forced a smile, then grabbed my mug, taking hurried steps desperate to carry me out of the room and away from the man I loved—who now knew I loved him. But that beautiful man was also intelligent and quick and wouldn’t let me get away so quickly.

“Y/N?” He sat down his coffee and stepped closer. “About last night. I’m sorry; that shouldn’t have happened. We… were paranoid and worried it might be like Becky or something all over again, and we just wanted to be sure.”

As he explained, I looked to the ground but nodded to his words. In a way, I got it, but it still didn’t make it okay.

“You never…” he paused and licked his lips. “You never said anything. Never even gave a hint. I mean,” he chuckled, “I really didn’t see that coming.”

“I was never going to say anything,” I admitted, and he looked confused and something else. “I was never going to act on it. It was my secret and my burden. But now it’s all weird, and you probably want me to leave.”

Oh Lord, I couldn’t cry in front of him again!

“Why would I want you to leave?”

His question left me speechless, and I wasn’t sure how best to answer.

“You know,” he moved as he spoke, approaching closer and closer until my back hit the counter, and there was an arm’s length between us. “Women have told me they love me and can picture a life or future with me. But never in this life, never in a hunting life. And none of them, not one, has ever wanted to have my children.”

Okay. Where was he going with this? I was too nervous and scared to move or make a sound. I dared to meet his eyes and instantly regretted it as I felt my heart flutter madly.

“And I have no idea what a Hunter Pie life is,” he chuckled before moving just a few inches before me. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

His words, eyes, and closeness were daring me to do something. But that couldn’t be right. In all my fantasies, I never believed that he would ever entertain the idea. But now… Dean groaned as his phone rang in his pocket, and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Jody, hey," Dean answered, stepping a few feet away to focus on the call. “Yeah, Okay. Sam and I can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see you soon.”

He hung up and sighed, returning to me as Sam entered the room. We all glanced at each other before Dean cleared his throat.

“Jody and the girls,” Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Got a case, and they need our help. Ready in ten?”

Sam huffed but nodded, giving the food a yearning glance before rushing to pack. Dean lingered, running a hand down his face and flashing a tight smile before heading off to get ready. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or sad, but I was certainly confused.

I rushed through the kitchen, packing up breakfast and some other food for them to take with them. I always tried to give them premade meals in thermal coolers that they could refrigerate or microwave. They seemed to appreciate having home-cooked food while away.

As the brothers loaded their bags, I carried the cooler and a paper bag of immediate consumables to the car. I placed the cooler on the back floorboard before handing Dean the paper bag.

“Thanks,” he grinned, passing the bag to Sam, who immediately started digging through it. I expected him just to climb in and leave, but he paused while fidgeting with his keys.

“Please don’t leave while we’re gone.”

I wasn’t expecting that, but the idea was one of many emotionally driven bad decisions I had been considering.

“We’ll talk,” he promised with a nod. “I’ll text and call, and we’ll talk.”

I nodded and gave the same tight-lipped smile he’d given before. Then, I let out a sigh of relief as they drove away.

Dean POV

God, this hunt came at the shittiest possible time. I didn’t want to go. Leaving felt like closing the door on this thing I just discovered. But I didn’t have a choice.

Jody and Claire stumbled on a vamp nest that was the biggest they’d ever seen. It was a giant damn hive. Though she’d called Donna and a few others, it was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. It didn’t mean I wanted to leave. Something was brewing, changing between Y/N and me. I was terrified it would disappear if I couldn’t tend to it. But if she genuinely meant what she said, then I supposed this could be a test of that. Or maybe even a way to feel it out over text. Face-to-face always made shit complicated and awkward. I was less likely to fuck anything up this way, but still fully capable.

“So,” Sam broke the silence, and my grip tightened on the wheel. “We gonna talk about what happened last night?”

“Sam, I told you to leave it.”

“No, Dean!”

His persistence pissed me off. I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he was on a mission.

“Look, we agreed to give her the serum and question her. We wanted to see what she knew and if she was a threat, like Becky. I thought asking those questions first might be awkward but clear the air. I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“She’s not a threat, Sam.”

“Well, we don’t know that because we didn’t get to ask her anything.”

“What’s really got you so worked up, huh? You mad she’s just not that into you?”

My brother’s annoyed bitchface was satisfying enough to make me smirk. At least he shut up for half a second.

“Don’t you get it?” Sam growled through clenched teeth. “She could be YOUR Becky, Dean. Who knows what she might do if she thinks she loves you.”

My hands wrung the wheel a little harder as I resisted the urge to hit him. I’m unsure why I felt so protective of her then, but I knew she wasn’t like Becky. She wasn’t like any of them, but I couldn’t prove it to him.

“Sam, let me handle this. Please.”

His stunned silence made me glance over to see him gaping like a fish and over-analyzing.

“Yeah. Okay.” He huffed, turning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes so hard my head went with it.

“Don’t say ‘Yeah. Okay.’ like…Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, pretending to lose interest in the conversation. “Okay.”

I pressed the pedal harder. Maybe this hunt came at the perfect time. I really needed something to kill.

It was a bloodbath: so many vamps and beheadings, so many injured hunters, so many dead or turned victims. Though we cleared the nest with no casualties to our team, it didn’t feel like much of a victory. No one was saved.

There was still celebration and rivalry to be had as we patched each other up and cheered over the mass amount of bloodsucking bastards we killed and future victims we spared.

It was just what I needed to get the itching energy and simmering anger at my brother out of my system. Now buzzed and beat, I only wanted one thing at that moment. As everyone, including my overgrown baby brother, went to bed, I grabbed my beer and quietly wandered outside. I found myself sitting on Baby’s hood and appreciating the quiet and still night. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Y/N. It was late, and she might be asleep, but I needed to hear her voice.

I’d kept my word, and we’d been texting, but it was mostly to keep her apprised of the hunt. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it or her since those seemingly fateful words tumbled from her lips. As her sleepy voice answered, I felt a flutter in my heart, making me feel like a kid again.

“Dean?” she yawned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Hunt’s done. Was a ton of them bastards.” I tried to laugh but knew she’d see through it

“Is everyone alright?”

“Little banged up, but we’re all good. No vics to save, though.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was a mess,” I sighed, and a comfortable silence fell between us. I needed a distraction. “You never did tell me about this Hunter Pie life of yours.” I chuckled for real this time, maybe some of it nerves, as I hoped she’d talk to me and open up without a serum. When she giggled, I felt the flutters again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just…tell me how it looks. In your mind, how does it go?”

“Wow,” she huffed and chuckled again before clearing her throat. “Um, okay.”

The silence drew out again, and I wondered if she was backing out, but then she continued.

“Okay. Well, I guess I always thought it would be like it is now, you know? Like me cooking and domestic and stuff at the Bunker.”

She ‘always’ thought? I pinned a note in that for later, but I hoped she had more. I hummed to let her know I was listening. She just didn’t know I was hanging on to her every word.

“Family meals where you and Sam tell the kids and me about the hunt. Giving them a normal life and home base while keeping them informed and trained. Hide and seek in the Bunker with Nerf guns and call it a hunt.”

She was laughing, and I could hear her smile as she spoke, mine growing with her tales.

“There are so many scenarios where you could play games with the kids that’s still training. Or just spending time doing normal things.”

It sounded amazing, though I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible. But hearing and picturing it made me feel infinitely better, among other things.

“And what about us?” I knew I was crossing a line into new territory. Begging her to tell me all this, I knew, was giving her hope—and much-needed hope for me.

“Us?” She echoed, and I grinned at her surprised tone. “I just want to take care of you. To show you that you are worthy and deserve it all and more. To be lucky enough to be in your arms. To give you whatever you need and want. To hold you, listen, patch you up, and watch movies in bed while eating junk food.”

We laughed together, and I had to wipe away a tear. I could see it so clearly. I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms like she described. The WANT that simmered within me was something I’d never felt before.

When she yawned, I felt like an ass, having woken her just to make myself feel better. But it did exactly what I’d hoped.

“I’m sorry; I’m gonna let you get back to bed. It’s late.”

“You sure?”

She seemed disappointed, and I was, too. But we both needed sleep and the sooner I got that, the quicker I’d return to her.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get home.”

I hadn’t meant to say that, but her soft chuckle made it worthwhile.

“I’ll be waiting.”

We said our goodnights and hung up. She’d be waiting for me, for us to begin. I just needed a couple of hours of sleep, and then I’d push Baby to her limits to get back home as quickly as possible.

Y/N POV

What the fuck was that? What just happened? I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes but couldn’t fight the tiredness pulling me back under.

When I woke up again, I felt good and refreshed. Then I remembered the call from the night before. I dove for my phone on the nightstand to find a text from Dean.

Dean: Heading out soon. See you in a few hours. ;)

It had already been nearly two hours since he’d sent the text. I jumped out of bed in a panic, knowing there wasn’t much time before they’d return. Did he even sleep?

I rushed to shower and dress before going to the kitchen and making coffee. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I knew Sam and Dean would be hungry.

I tried to focus on cooking, but I kept replaying our conversation from the night before. And what was with the winky face? Did last night mean something, or did he need comfort after a lousy hunt? The things I said—how could I look him in the eye?

When the roar of the Impala entering the garage sounded through the Bunker, I fought the urge to run and hide. Just…act NORMAL.

“Damn, it smells good in here.”

I turned to see Sam and Dean entering the kitchen with big smiles. However, they both looked like they’d had their asses handed to them on that hunt.

“We’re fine,” Dean answered, my concern written on my face. This was gonna be harder than I thought.

“I figured y’all would probably be hungry.”

“He’s always hungry,” Sam teased as he made a plate. I was glad he seemed to ease the tension I was choking on.

“Just glad that’s all over,” Dean responded, joining Sam at the table.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I told them before slinking to my room to hide like a coward.

Just as I thought, I couldn’t look either of them in the eye. What if they talked about it, about me? Of course, they did. Were things just going to be unbearably awkward now? How long could I pretend and hide?

Turns out, not long at all.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Dean knocked on the partially open door before opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Hey, Dean. Need something?”

Yeah, just keep it cool—really chill.

“Yeah,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie in my room or something.”

This really was happening.

“Netflix and chill?” I teased and laughed, watching his tension ease. “That’s your play?”

“Well, you’re the one who mentioned it in our planned future,” he teased back, and my confidence faltered for a minute.

“I thought you might want to get some sleep. It didn’t seem you got much between our call and that text.”

“Then we’ll watch and nap,” he shrugged, taking my hand and guiding me to his room. And, of course, I went willingly, following him in a trance and soaking up the warmth of his touch.

Once in his room, he released my hand to set up something on the TV. I sat on the end of the bed, hands in my lap as I awkwardly tried to figure out what to do and how to act. He kicked off his shoes and flannel, leaving him in jeans and a t-shirt before dramatically flopping onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Come here?” he asked as he patted the space beside him.

“‘Kay,” I grinned and eagerly slid beside him, smiling harder as his arm settled around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.

I had dreamed and fantasized about this moment - as simple and innocent as it may be - so many times, and now it was a reality. I was more than surprised that his reaction to my truth was desire. But if he genuinely gave me a chance, I was determined to give him everything I said and more. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give.

Dean POV

It had been years since I’d done something as simple as cuddling and watching a movie. It felt intimate and special. As she quoted a line from the film, eating some junk food I’d laid out, I wondered if it was a djinn dream or a spell.

I wasn’t a blind fool, much as Sam tried to insist I was. I knew she was a fan, and we didn’t know much about her, which was why I agreed to the serum to begin with.

But I’d observed her plenty in her time with us. She was kind and helpful and an artist in the kitchen. She was a natural caregiver. She was funny and charming. She was super bright, too, with how she spoke, things she knew, and how easily she took to research - which she also happened to be great at. It didn’t hurt she was hot as fuck, but she had no clue.

Then, learning she was in love with me sent my mind reeling. I wasn’t a total idiot - letting this, her, pass me by would be the dumbest thing ever. I had to try, take a chance, or regret it forever.

She noticed when I glanced at her, turning her head to meet my eyes. Letting the moment sweep me away, I leaned in, pleasantly surprised when she slowly met me in the middle. My eyes fluttered, and I hummed at the sweet little spark that tingled my lips. I tilted my head, kissing her a little harder, more sure. She responded in kind, and that spark shot down my spine.

Cupping her jaw, I titled her head as I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open to me. I needed to taste her as much as I needed my next breath.

When she parted her lips, a gentle moan spilled forth. When my tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her soft, warm tongue, a responding moan was ripped from my chest. She tasted divine. Her tongue chased after my own, but I could feel her restraint. She was holding back; I knew it was because she was unsure, not in her feelings or wanting me. Instead, she didn’t know what I was after, too afraid to push forward and break the spell.

I pulled back, intent on breaching the topic, but a knock at my door broke the trance. Stupid Sam and his lousy timing. Another firm series of knocks had me rolling my eyes and groaning. Reluctantly, I released Y/N and opened the door; Sam was surprised to see her on the bed behind me.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” he asked, casting her a wary glance. I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, following him a few feet down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

Sam POV

I wanted to talk to Dean about Y/N and this whole situation. I wasn’t expecting to find her in Dean’s bed with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was quickly spinning out of control.

“Het, got a minute?”

I didn’t want to have this conversation with Y/N around. Luckily, Dean closed the door and followed me down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sam, I told you-”

“No, Dean. We don’t know what her game is. She could have done a spell or made a deal. And you’re in there feeding her little fantasy.”

My older brother was incredibly defensive. He stood tall and stubborn with his arms crossed, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted to hit me.

“Look,” Maybe changing tactics would get him to see reason. I didn’t want to see him taken advantage of for the sake of some crazy fanatics’ whims. “All I’m saying is let’s look into her and this more. Talk to Cas, maybe Crowley or Rowena. Just…make sure it’s, you know, legit.”

As Dean slightly relaxed, I saw I was finally getting through to him. Y/N was nice to have around, but my paranoia wouldn’t rest until I was confident she wouldn’t cause us harm.

“Fine,” Dean agreed in a huff, his arms dropping to his sides. “Call Cas or whatever, do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going back to her and enjoying what I KNOW is real.”

Neither of us expected to see Y/N standing in the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard, but she looked hurt and determined.

“I’m gonna go to my room. Let you all figure this out.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Dean. Sam’s right; you can’t be sure, and I want you to be sure.”

She left the hall and went to her room. I was relieved and also incredibly guilty. That could be part of her plan. But as Dean turned back to face me, I again worried he’d throw a punch.

“You get what you wanted,” Dean spat through gritted teeth.

“Dean, I’m just looking out for you. You did the same thing with Becky, and it was for the best.”

He nodded but silently returned to his room, slamming the door loud enough to make me jump. I’d call Cas and Rowena to get to the bottom of this.

I stood in the Bunker’s library two days later with Y/N, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena. Except, all eyes were pointed at me with varying expressions.

While Dean was against it, Y/N allowed Cas and Rowena to poke, prod, and pry at her and her mind, searching for anything unusual. But there was nothing. According to Cas and Rowena - who both looked at me with pained sympathy - her love for Dean was pure and true, the real deal and soul-deep.

Dean looked at me with smugness and contempt. I knew he was feeling so damn righteous. But Y/N - she looked defeated and heartbroken. I knew I was an ass, but I couldn’t help feeling something was still off. If she knew all the horrible details of our lives and the many things we’d done - why the hell would she love either of us? Especially my love-em-and-leave-em brother?

“Are we done?” Y/N spoke, standing tall, but I could see the tears in her eyes and the waver in her voice. “Can I go?”

Y/N POV

After two whole days of being ripped open and exposed, working to prove myself in ways I never intended, I was more than done. I wanted to be thrilled at meeting the angel and the witch, but the circumstances left me feeling violated in many ways.

“Are we done? Can I go?”

I didn’t wait for a response, turning and heading for my room before the tears fell. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t even leave the library before a hand grabbed my arm.

“Y/N, wait,” Dean pleaded. I turned to him, and a single tear escaped to stream down my face.

“I just want to go. To forget any of this ever happened.”

“You could do that?” Dean asked, and my heart clenched at the hurt on his face. “Forget it?”

“No, but I have to,” I pulled slowly from his touch, already missing it.

“We can do this; we can make it work,” he insisted, and I shook my head and laughed, though it was without humor.

“THIS wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t snuck a truth serum in my drink. Sam questioned me, ripping my secrets from me, doubting me entirely. And you…you did nothing. Sam is the most important person in your life. If he’s not on board, it will never work.”

He didn’t say anything, but my words struck a chord. He didn’t try to stop me when I retreated a second time. While I was grateful, it also hurt. At least nothing more than a kiss happened. It might be easier to recover.

Dean POV

Hurt and anger were all I could feel. I understood Y/N’s position somewhat, though it hurt that she’d turn away. I turned to face my brother, all my anger directed at him.

“Are you happy now?” I shouted at him, and he dared to appear surprised. “This is your fault.”

“Dean, I’m just-”

“Looking out for me? Yeah, I know. But why does it feel like you’re jealous?”

“Whoa, I’m not-”

“You’re both daft fools,” Rowena spoke as she busied herself with tidying the items on the table.

“Excuse me?” Sam and I spoke at the same time.

“You two have put that poor lass through hell trying to find the truth. A truth that’s pure love. And while you act like you want it, you’ve done nothing. You let Sam question and doubt her. And she’s right; it’ll never work if Sam doesn’t support it because you two are so grossly intertwined. And you, Samuel,” she turned her fiery attention to Sam, and I felt a little scared for him. “You’re so busy thinking her love is undeserved that you must find a reason it can’t be real.”

“Undeserved?” I looked at my brother; his silent shame told me all I needed. “That’s it, right?”

“Dean, come on. How could someone know everything we’ve done and still love us—love you? I mean, love and relationships aren’t your thing. Don’t you think maybe someone or something is behind this?”

“Sam,” Castiel chimed in to chastise my brother.

I couldn’t look at him any longer, or I would kick his ass. I took off to my room. I wanted to go after Y/N, to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t go to her as angry as I was, and she needed space, too. As I realized I may have genuinely lost this before I even got to glimpse it, I felt my lips tingle with the phantom press of her lips to mine. I’d just have to wait to let her come to me. I hoped she still wanted to and that Sam would get his head out of his ass.

Sam POV

Several weeks had passed since this whole truth serum mess with Y/N, and I was left feeling like a complete dick.

After Cas and Rowena checked her over, we all went our separate ways. Things in the Bunker seemed to go back to how they were, except no one talked to each other outside of pleasantries or necessity.

My brother would glare at me or make a snide remark to ensure I knew he was pissed. He felt I ruined everything, and maybe he was right. Y/N still cooked and cleaned and helped with research. But she didn’t make eye contact or small talk or linger. She didn’t eat with us or stay in the room for long. It made Dean more bitter every day.

I knew I had let my paranoia and fear get the better of me, and maybe I was a little bit jealous. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was only worth a good time? But as I reflected on her time with us and her interactions with Dean, I realized how much they had in common and enjoyed each other's company—even without romance mixed in.

I had to figure out how to make this right for both of them. I just had to convince Y/N I was sorry and wrong and that she and Dean should try to be together. Then Dean would forgive me, and all would be right again.

Dean POV

Sam had tried talking to me and apologized. I was grateful but still pissed. He swore he’d try to make things right, but I asked him not to. She hadn’t made eye contact or spoken any friendly words since Sam - no, since WE - had Cas and Rowena check her.

Sam was right; I didn’t deserve her. And I was heartbroken at her distance, her change in demeanor. I knew she was deeply hurt. As pissed as I was at Sam, I was even more so at myself. I did nothing to stand up for or defend her against the tests. I was just as guilty.

She would never have said anything. I never would have known had we not drugged her. I wanted to be mad about that, too, and was to a degree. Was this all some test, or were Sam and I destined to destroy everyone who crosses our path and dares to care about us?

The point may be to fight. But if I really wanted it, why wasn’t I trying harder?

I overheard the two of them in the kitchen the other night. However, it was mostly Sam, as she still didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, and maybe I should have let them know I was there, but curiosity got the better of me.

Just like with me, he was apologizing to her. But he was also practically BEGGING her to give me another chance. He swore he was on board and supported it - hell, he was full-on dreaming for it to happen now. She thanked him for his apology and said no more.

I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Sam was okay with us, and I wanted to find out what ‘us’ even looked like.

Y/N POV

Sam had been giving me whiplash. One day, he was utterly suspicious of me, then he ignored me, and now he’s practically begging me to give Dean a chance—as if I’d been the one rejecting him. I didn’t know what to do.

While I was glad they’d both apologized, I was still hurt. I tried my best to see things from their side: how this might all seem a rational way to go about things or why they were so paranoid. But my pain and embarrassment kept me quiet, just trying to make it day by day while focusing on business as usual. Maybe we’d all move on and put this whole thing behind us.

Until then, I had to do my best to maintain a sense of routine in the Bunker for their sakes. And I wasn’t going to hide away in my room moping either.

This is how I found myself in the library, reading a book as Sam sat on the opposite side with his laptop. I didn’t know if he was researching or looking for a case, but I did know I was pretty irritated that, with many other tables and chairs, he chose to sit across from me.

I tried to focus on the book but scanned the words more than I read them. I was aware of Sam constantly looking at me as if he had something to say before hastily looking back at his screen. I pretended not to notice until I stiffened at the sound of Dean’s approach.

I wanted to run and hide every time he entered the room, afraid he’d catch my longing looks or hear how fast my heart beat when he passed close enough to touch and smell. I could still feel his kiss and the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he held me sweetly. I tried to control it, but now that he knew, I felt so exposed, as if he could sense my every thought. It was a bit unnerving.

I tried to focus on my book as Dean concentrated on his brother, who leaned back in his chair to give him his attention.

“Garth needs backup on a hunt,” Dean announced, and I relaxed, knowing they’d likely leave soon.

“Okay,” Sam stood from his chair, gathering his laptop. “Meet at the car in ten?”

Sam began walking away before Dean’s voice made him stop.

“Uh, actually,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at his brother. “You and Garth should be able to handle it. Baby needs some maintenance anyway.”

Sam - to his credit and that annoying silent communication of theirs - paused only a moment before seeming to decide.

“Yeah, okay,” he responded quickly and eagerly, making me look at him directly.

He flashed me a smile before continuing his retreat from the room. The quiet, along with being alone with Dean, was sending my anxiety through the roof. He turned to face me, and - Lord, help me - I couldn’t even pretend to care about the book as our eyes met for the first time in what felt like ages.

“So,” he grinned as he slid into the seat Sam had just vacated, refusing to break the locked gaze. “Are you hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something.”

Okay, so he was waving a white flag. I could get behind that, and I was definitely hungry.

Dean POV

“You hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something?”

She relaxed, but I could see she was still apprehensive. I hated this awkward silence and distance, which hung like a dark cloud over everything. She had confessed her love, both with the serum and without. She spoke about our potential lives, which left me craving. But I hadn’t done much to show my want, to fight for it like she had done.

When Garth called about a case, I saw an opportunity. I would put on my A-game and fight for this, for us.

“Uh, okay. Yeah, sure,” she forced a smile, but I met it with a genuine one.

“Great,” I answered, standing from my seat and gesturing for her to follow. I was only slightly surprised that she did.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

Whatever I want? I grinned and fought back the chuckle as she followed me to Baby in the garage.

“I thought Baby needed work?”

I did laugh then as we settled in the front seat of my car.

“Yeah, I sort of wanted an excuse to be alone with you.”

“Oh.”

She blushed and bashfully looked away. I bit my lip and started the car, driving us into town. If she didn’t care where we went, I knew a place on the edge of town with great burgers, cheap beer, good music, and pool tables. I’d be in my element and could pull my best moves. I was intent on wooing her, and this was usually how I succeeded with others.

She was not anything like the others at all. She was so much more, from her looks to her body to her mind and heart. As we parked outside the roadhouse, I wondered if this place was the best idea.

Her soft smile was encouraging. As we went inside, my hand hovered over her lower back, guiding her through the crowd to an empty table in the middle of the room. It allowed me to watch everything, and I felt even more on guard than usual with her there.

I watched tentatively as she sat across from me, her eyes scanning the surroundings before landing back on me with a shy smile.

“I hope this is okay. We can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, this is great!”

She seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I relaxed. The waitress came and took our orders, and I was pleased to hear Y/N talk more than she had been recently. I guess now was a good time to speak with her about what’s been on my mind.

“Look, Y/N…I want you to know that I am so damn sorry.”

She met my eyes then, and I swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened, that I let happen. We shouldn’t have pried. I’m so sorry you got hurt and exposed and that I didn’t stand up for you.”

She dropped her gaze to the table, tensing up again, and it felt like that beautiful door of opportunity was closing. I needed her to interact with me. Anything was better than the distance and empty pleasantries. At this point, I didn’t care if she flirted or screamed at me.

The waitress returned our order, and I thanked her. Y/N was focused on her food.

“I’m not sorry that I know. In fact, I’m a little pissed you were never gonna tell me.”

I took a bite from my burger and was waiting for her reaction. She stared at me with narrowed eyes before clearing her throat.

“What, I’m just supposed to come out and say it? Even though there was barely a friendship between us?”

She scoffed and returned to eating. But I was frozen, caught up in her choice of words.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

Had she given up? Has she decided we weren’t worth it? That I wasn’t worth it?

Y/N POV

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The pain in his tone made my heart clench. I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t anymore, but it didn’t feel like we were.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He accepted it, and we ate in comfortable silence. When the waitress returned to clear the table, Dean settled the bill but asked to start a tab for drinks. When a whiskey shot was set before me, I clanked with Dean’s and knocked it back, taking it for the peace offering it was.

“Thank you for apologizing. I can understand why you two felt you needed to do those things. I just wish you would’ve asked.”

“So if Sam asked how you felt about me, without the serum, what would you have said?”

“I would have said I respect and admire you.”

“But not that you love me? Why?”

I had a feeling he’d ask that at some point. I huffed a breath and chewed my lip as I chose my words.

“Because I’m not worthy. If I never say anything, I never have to face your rejection, which would hurt, and it’d hurt you to see me hurt ‘cause you just care that much.”

I guess I didn’t need a serum. The big secret was out, and I told Dean all about our fantasy lives. At least if I kept truthing, I’d know if he truly accepted me.

“But I didn’t reject you, Y/N.”

I met Dean’s eyes, seeing how open he was, letting me see his truth. The intensity I found there made me gasp a little.

“I did hurt you, and seeing that hurt me,” he continued. Reaching across the table, he held one of my hands. “But I didn’t reject you. In fact,” his grip tightened, and a flirty smirk adorned his luscious lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our future. About that damn kiss.” He laughed, and I nodded my agreement because I felt the same.

“Hey folks, can I get you another round?”

The waitress returned, and I jumped. Dean held my hand, which was firm but gentle, and smiled at her.

“Yes, please. Two shots, two beers. Thanks,” he said, placing a nice tip on her tray, and she left with a smile. It always warmed me how he could be so charming, even without a trace of flirting. His keeping ahold of my hand sent my heart into a frenzy. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into all of this, which had me chuckling aloud just as our next round arrived.

“What should we drink to?” Dean asked as we held our shots.

I put on my best flirty smirk and clinked my glass with his.

“To second chances?” I suggested, hoping he’d pick up and accept my insinuations.

“I’ll drink to that!”

We threw back our shots and spent moments looking at each other and smiling.

Dean POV

It felt almost like making a deal, but one I’d gladly make again and again. I’d never experienced this feeling. It was as if I was embarking on an exciting adventure, eager to learn everything about this person and savor and enjoy every morsel of her being that she was willing to feed me.

I did my best to shut out the dark voice in my mind, telling me it couldn’t last. Either I’ll fuck it up, or she’ll leave, or - God forbid - she dies. That tiny black hole within me was itching to devour all the happiness around me.

But in her presence, it grew quieter and easier to manage. Even before her confessions, I witnessed how kind and caring she was, her compassion providing comfort. She was nurturing, even in the way I imagined a loving mother would be. I don’t remember. But she was like soft candlelight shining amidst the pitch black within my mind.

“How about a game of pool?” I suggested, seeing some open tables. I could show off a little and maybe get a chance to get close to help her line up a shot.

“Okay,” she agreed, taking my hand when I offered it.

I was reluctant to let her go, but I had to set up a game. Basic eight-ball was fine with me and didn’t take much thought.

“I know how to play, but I’m not very good,” she admitted. I bit my lip to contain my excitement about helping her.

“No worries. It's just a fun game. No pressure. But I could show you some things if you want.”

“Eager to bend me over the table, huh?” She laughed, and I was initially shocked. But if she was ready to ‘play,’ then game on, Babygirl.

As we started the game, she was focused, analyzing angles and trying her best. I, however, was focused on her. The way she moved, thought, and bent like a dancer to take her shots, Her whole body was lithe and curvy, stretching like a cat. I noticed, too, that she was ambidextrous. With some practice and pointers, she’d be outstanding. She had a natural skill but wasn’t used to playing.

I went back to admiring her as her plump ass was on display as she bent for a shot and missed. The pout that followed made me want to kiss it away. She was effortlessly sexy, and she had no fucking clue.

“You ready to head back?” I asked after finishing a game. I was ready to be alone with her again, if only to kiss her senseless.

“Sure,” she grinned, placing her hand in mine before I could reach for her.

I grinned like a fool as I paid our tab and led her outside. But we were stopped by a storm, with rain falling thick and fast.

“Race you to the car?” she grinned before dashing into the downpour to the Impala at the back corner of the lot. She was crazy but beautiful.

Grinning again, I ran into the rain to take her hand as we ran to the car together, laughing the whole way.

Y/N POV

I dashed out into the rain, feeling giddy and playful. I was high on the night I was having. I had been entirely aware of Dean’s eyes on me - and quite a few other’s eyes - but I tried not to think about it and just be normal.

With my spirits high and being a bit drunk, I felt brave.

“Race you to the car?”

I took off, half expecting him to chastise me. But when he took my hand and ran with me, laughing the whole way, my heart soared. I felt free, alive, and blessed to share it with Dean, the man I loved.

Dean released my hand to get his keys and open the door as we got to the car. I was mesmerized by watching his hand and fingers work, wet from the rain.

“Get in,” he gestured, and I quickly moved, sliding across the bench to the passenger’s side.

“We’re gonna have to wait ‘til it calms down a little. I can’t see much in this.”

I didn’t think about that when running through the downpour. Dean turned on the car only to turn on the heat, and the radio was low on some classic rock station. I couldn’t help but look at him and admire how handsome he was and how that was accentuated by being drenched. It was giving me wicked thoughts, and with my inhibitions lowered, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well.

I shamelessly ogled him as he shed his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in a t-shirt. He tossed the wet clothes in the backseat before looking at me to find me attentively watching his every move. His eyes trailed slowly down my body and back up again. My breathing picked up as my heart raced. He licked his lower lip into his mouth and released it. I think I moaned a little.

“Y/N.”

Dean broke the silence, the rain still pounding hard outside. We leaned towards each other, and his hand cupped my cheek as our lips met. It was just as good as before, though I wondered if I’d imagined it.

His tongue ran gently across my lip, and I felt a flutter between my legs. I opened for him and melted as his tongue met mine. I let him lead, knowing he was used to this, but I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and hadn’t made a habit of hooking up or even taking chances. I was worried I might be out of practice, but I felt encouraged by his sounds and actions.

He pulled back, ending the kiss far too soon for my liking, and I may have whined a little. He chuckled, and I pouted. He leaned in with a groan, sucking my lower lip before kissing me soundly.

I felt like I was in trouble, but in a very sexy way. It was a little confusing. But I was quickly sobering as I realized where this was heading. At least, I hoped.

Dean POV

Goddamn, this woman would surely kill me - but what a way to go. I was ready to make her mine here and now, and I was almost sure she’d let me. But she deserved better than that. As sappy as it may be, I wanted our first time together in a bed - specifically MY bed - so I could take my time and make it memorable. Special.

If things go the way I hope, it will be our last first time. I had more than a good feeling about this, and I was ready to do whatever was necessary to have her in my life.

How did I get so damn lucky, so fortunate to have this woman in love with me?

The rain was still coming down, but it had lessened enough that I was confident in getting us home safely. And I NEEDED her home, even if it was only to make out all night.

“Let me get you home,” I whispered, stealing another kiss.

“Well, you’ll have to stop kissing me to do that.”

I kissed her again, and she chuckled as I began to drive. I wanted her closer, tucked into my side, but I knew I needed to focus on the road. The sooner I got her home, the sooner I could touch and kiss her again.

I somehow managed to pull safely into the Bunker’s garage despite Y/N’s gaze devouring me the whole ride. As my cock swelled painfully against my zipper, I prayed to God we were on the same page. I’d be fine if she wasn’t ready. But I was about to burst at just the thought of her.

As soon as I parked the car, I turned to her. She grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I grabbed at her, holding her close to me as I poured myself into the kiss, letting her taste my desire.

She straddled my lap with little encouragement, and I wrapped my arms around her to press our bodies together, our hungry kisses unbroken. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head back as my kisses moved along her jaw. When I reached behind her ear, I gave a little kitten lick. Her body jerked and ground against my lap, making me hiss as the zipper pressed against my painfully hard cock.

Y/N POV

I could feel how hard he was, his hands as hungry as his mouth. I felt bold knowing there was no rejection waiting, only want. I pulled from the kiss and held his face in my hands.

“Dean, take me to bed?”

I was practically sober now, and so was he. I looked him in the eye, letting him know I meant it.

“Are you sure?” He asked, which surprised me. “I don’t want to rush you or make you feel like I expect anything. If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I can wait. You’re worth waiting for.”

I felt like I would cry, but the patience and understanding he exhibited made me even more sure. I kissed him slow and deep, pulling back to meet his eyes again.

“Take me to bed, Dean.” I realized how that might sound, even if my tone was soft. “Please.”

That seemed to spur him to action. As he devoured my mouth again, I filed it as a note for later. He set me back on the seat and climbed out of the car, offering his hand, which I accepted.

He smoothly pulled me from the car, closed the door, and pressed me against it in what felt like one move. The desire and hunger I saw in his eyes were almost intimidating. He kissed me senseless, his hands on my hips as he pressed his weight into me. He was so strong and capable that it only turned me on more.

“Your room or mine?” I asked, feeling confident enough to be sultry.

“Oh, Baby,” he grinned, unable to go long without kissing me. “I want you in my bed so bad.”

I chuckled and nodded, letting him lead me through the halls to his room. Once the door shut, he pressed me against it like in the garage. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was so damn eager for it. His hands pushed my shirt up, and I let him remove it. He made quick work of my bra, and the cool air had my nipples hardening. He dove in with a hum, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking with his tongue. My knees buckled, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my hips.

He moved to my other nipple and repeated his actions, ripping a loud moan from me as my hips bucked in his hold.

“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he praised as he removed his t-shirt.

Dean POV

She was so beautiful, and her sounds were the sweetest music. She was so desperate and needy, her body reaching into my every touch, even if she wasn’t fully aware.

I felt frenzied, eager to take, feel, and claim. I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to savor this, to drag it out, and make it as good as possible for both of us.

I reluctantly pulled back, just enough to kick off my shoes and remove the rest of my clothes. She looked at me with pure lust, panting as she mimicked my actions. My hands rushed as she became revealed to me.

As soon as we were both bare, she was pressed against me, seeking another kiss, which I was too happy to provide. Our hands were gentle and cautious as we explored every line, curve, and dip of each other, our lips and tongues dancing together. While I was no doubt aroused - my cock throbbing and pinned between us - her warmth and softness calmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

I started walking backward, bringing her with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, intent on pulling her into my lap, wanting her close, but she seemed to have other ideas.

She slowly lowered to her knees, cupping my cheek with one hand, the other wrapping around my cock as she kissed me passionately, more dirty than any other before. She stroked me firm but slow, and when she ran her thumb over the head, I moaned into her mouth.

She pulled back with a grin and gently pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was propped on my elbows, unwilling to take my eyes off her. She seemed just as intent as me to slow down, drag it out, as she kissed and locked along my lower stomach and hips, nipping lightly here and there, making me jump and groan.

“Not the only one sensitive and responsive,” she teased back at me, nosing along the crease of my thigh, turning her head to nip at the tender inner flesh of my thigh.

“Y/N!”

It was half shock, half desperate arousal. She was driving me insane. She gave in, licking from the base of my cock to the head, tonguing around the rim. My head dropped back, and that was the moment she took me in her warm, wet mouth with a tight suction that already had me embarrassingly close to coming.

She pulled off to tease me some more, and I seized the opportunity, sitting up and swiftly pulling her to straddle my lap. Before she could catch her breath, I turned and lifted her, smoothly laying her back on the bed, her legs wrapped around me, holding me close.

She gasped and laughed, making me chuckle along with her. God, this was a beautiful moment.

“I’ve never been manhandled like that. Surprised me,” she admitted shyly.

I laughed again and kissed her soundly.

“A night of firsts then,” I teased, kissing her deep and rutting my aching cock through her surprisingly damp folds. I was happy to know she was just as aroused as me.

As we drowned in kissing, I trailed my hand down her body and between her legs. I ran a finger over her clit before circling her entrance and sliding inside.

“So damn wet already,” I spoke against her lips, eager to swallow down her moans. “Bet I could just slide right in.”

Fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling as I adjusted my hips, grabbing my cock and sliding inside her. She was so tight and warm, and I could feel how deep I was. I had to stay still and catch my breath, or it’d all be over too soon. She was trembling around me, and I just wanted to make her come over and over.

Y/N POV

Dean was inside me, buried deep and nestled against my cervix. It was delicious, and I was hyper-aware of our every connection: our underbelly brushing, his hips against my inner thighs, chest-to-chest, and panted breaths shared from barely grazing mouths.

He pulled back slowly and slid in again, smooth and gentle. I felt like my heart would explode or I might burst into tears. He increased his speed only a little, kissing along my neck and chest. I marveled at feeling him, so long and thick and impossibly hard, fucking into me gently but with purpose.

Then, my rational mind began to speak up, reminding me he was bare inside me. I clenched and moaned, fighting back my breeding kink.

“Dean, wait,” I pushed gently at his shoulders, and he went still.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I promised, pecking his lips to reassure him. “But we need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”

He seemed to pause and think before nodding and slowly pulling out. As he moved from the bed to retrieve a condom, I wondered if I’d upset him. He sheathed himself and crawled back on the bed, and I opened my legs to welcome him. But he didn’t go for it right away.

His hand slid along my thigh, up my side, and cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine.

“What had you clenching and moaning so hard?”

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also knew he was intelligent and experienced and had probably figured it out.

“My…my breeding kink.”

I mumbled the words in embarrassment but felt compelled to be honest. His pupils dilated, and he captured my lips hungrily as he slid within me again, with no hesitation and no resistance. He was so thick I could still feel every bit of him through the condom, his girth stretching me deliciously, making me wriggle my hips impatiently.

Dean POV

Fuck, hearing her say the words ‘breeding kink’ might have been the sexiest thing I ever heard. That’s something I’d be chewing on for a while.

I slid back inside her, and she let a sigh. I felt relief at being connected again, too. I could still feel her walls squeezing around me, but I wished I could feel her bare again. The primal side of me awakened, wanting to make her mine and breed her full.

Instead, I focused on her face and her reactions as I moved. I kept our bodies close, nearly all of us touching, which was way more intimate than I was used to. It only added to the many moments that made this an extraordinary connection. I had to remind myself it was only the start, the first time of what I hoped to be countless others.

As I picked up my pace, I could tell she was getting close. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her breathing sped up, and I could tell she was holding back.

“Wanna feel you come,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her ear and whispering as I kept moving within her. “Imagine me bare inside you, ready to fuck you full.”

I felt her clench hard before she moaned out her release, her hands digging into my ass as she held me deep. I did my best to grind against her and ride out her high. She was fucking gorgeous, and I was nowhere near done with her.

In another practiced move, I rolled to my back, taking her with me, my cock never leaving her tight and drenched pussy. Still coming down from her high, she kissed me sloppy before sitting up straight. My cock slid deeper, and we moaned together as I held her hips and encouraged her to ride me.

Y/N POV

My head was light, my body tingling from the incredible orgasm. I usually stopped at one, but the feel of Dean was too good to give up. He wanted more from me, and I wanted to give it.

I sat up straight, my hands on his abs for leverage. He was so deep it was almost too much. When I began to move my hips, I was intent on giving as good as I got. But it was so incredible it quickly became about me: what I wanted to feel and how. Luckily, he was enjoying it just fine.

I was about to lean down and kiss him, but he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. I held his gaze as I rode him, slowly and intentionally clenching my walls to massage his shaft.

He snarled and kissed me hard, his thumb rubbing my clit again. I was surprised how quickly my second orgasm was creeping up on me, but I was hungry for it, and so was he.

“Dean!”

I couldn’t help but shout for him - at him - I wasn’t sure. A second later, I was coming, riding him hard through my high as he focused his attention on my breasts.

God, I was drained and sweaty, barely able to catch my breath, my body spasaming and pussy throbbing. I didn’t even notice he’d sat forward, laying me back on the bed, still hard and inside me as he lavished my breasts and nipples with teeth and tongue.

I knew he hadn’t come yet and was starting to get concerned. Maybe I couldn’t keep up with him? Maybe it wasn’t as good for him? I thought it was the best I’d ever had, but he was more experienced. But I couldn’t get my brain to form words.

I ran my hands through his hair and over his back, and he hummed at the touch. I wiggled my hips, reminding us both that he hadn’t come yet and was hard as a rock.

“Dean?” I urged him from my chest and met his eyes. “Wanna feel you come.”

I wiggled my hips again as much as I could in this position: my ass on his lap and back lightly bowed.

“M’close,” he spoke against my lips. “How do you want it?”

God, that was so sexy. But I was determined to make this good for him, too.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

Dean POV

She felt so goddamn good. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to hold back coming all this time. I wanted to make her feel good, but I also wanted to impress and show her that I could care for her. More importantly, I wanted to show her that I wanted her.

As she floated down from her high, I took the time to worship her, licking the sweat from her skin and riling her up for more.

“Dean?”

Her soft voice calling my name so sweetly had me pausing to look at her.

“Wanna feel you come.”

My cock twitched, more than ready, but I fought to hold back, desperate to please.

“M’close,” I admitted, pecking her lips. “How do you want it?”

She moaned, her legs widening, making me sink a little deeper.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

“So fucking perfect.”

I couldn’t help but praise her and was pleased when she swooned. I grinned and kissed her again, the feel of it already becoming second nature. I ran my hands up her arms and pulled her hands above her head, urging her to grab onto the edge of the mattress.

We smiled warmly at each other as I sat back on my heels, draping her legs over my arms as I gripped her hips. Her back was arched, legs wide.

I pulled back and swiftly thrust back inside, starting a brutal pace that rocked her body and had her screaming. She gripped the bed tight as I let go, fucking her like I wanted to. I was sure it was equal parts pain and pleasure, but she took every inch of me again and again.

She was chanting my name over and over, her pussy spasming wildly around my cock. I was going to come any second, but I needed to feel her one more time. To have her pull me over the edge with her.

I held her tight, sure there’d be bruises I’d kiss later, giving her all I had. She screamed even louder before her pussy fluttered and gushed all over me.

I lost it, falling forward and groaning as I came hard, the condom swelling with my seed. I huffed hard, my head falling into the crook of her neck. I couldn’t have imagined our first time together being any better than what we shared.

I tried to make myself move, worried I was crushing her. But she wrapped her arms around me and shook her head.

“No. Don’t move. Please.”

I laughed and dropped my head back to her neck. I was good with that.

Y/N POV

Fuck, I couldn’t move. Dean tried, but my oversensitive body couldn’t handle it, so I begged him to stay still. He seemed content to remain there for the time being.

“That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had.” I chuckled at my honesty and still quite cum-drunk.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing my neck and pulling out. “You squirted.”

“I did?!” I had to lift my head and look, a big, wet mess all over us, the sheets beneath me wet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Fuck, don’t apologize.” He tossed the condom and grabbed a towel to clean us up. I sighed and lay there, letting him. “It was so fucking hot, Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tossing the towel and moving us under the blankets. I went willingly, completely spent.

“Sleep?” I asked, desperately needing to recover.

“Sleep,” he agreed, pecking my lips before moving to spoon me, his arms wrapped around me securely.

When I woke later, I smelled coffee and gentle kisses on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and propped on my elbows, having shifted to my stomach at some point.

Dean was right there beside me, his smile warm. My heart melted all over again.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased with a chuckle. He shifted to sit back against the headboard, sipping at a mug.

“Hey.”

I forced myself to sit up, adjusting the blankets to cover myself as I leaned next to him, noticing he was shirtless, but the bedding covered his lap.

He handed me the mug, and I smiled bashfully as I drank the warm and delicious coffee inside. I returned it, and he set it on the nightstand, turning his attention back on me.

He grinned, leaning in and cupping my cheek as he kissed me sweetly. His hand trailed down my neck to my chest before thumbing at my nipple. The kiss turned heated in an instant as he made his intentions known.

He pulled back the covers, and I let him, though I whined that he pulled his lips away, too. He was just as naked as me and half-hard. But as his shoulders settled between my thighs, my mind went blank, simply eager for what he was about to do.

Dean POV

When I woke, I had to wipe drool from my chin after the incredible dream I had of feasting on Y/N’s sweet cunt. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face before noticing Y/N was asleep beside me.

She was on her stomach, her hair a wild mess, her mouth hung open as she breathed heavy and deep. Remembering what happened earlier, a grin spread on my face as I realized it wasn’t all part of my dreams. I leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, but she didn’t move.

I decided to rush to the bathroom and grab some coffee, trying to hurry because I wanted to be there when she woke up. Ideally, I could wake her sweetly, and then maybe she’d let me eat her out because that part was a dream, and I was aiming to rectify that for both of us.

I climbed back in bed, not having bothered with clothes since we were alone in the Bunker, at least for now. I set the cup aside and kissed her shoulder and back again. Featherlight and worshipful, I brought her to wakefulness.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I greeted as her eyes opened.

I sat back, sipping coffee. She sat up next to me with a soft greeting and accepted the mug when offered. She had moved the blankets to keep herself covered, but I could see over her neck and chest where I’d marked her good. I hadn’t meant to; I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But seeing them in different shades and sizes only turned me on.

She returned the cup to me, and I mindlessly put it on the nightstand. I kissed her, eager to show how happy I was, to reinforce that it was real and reciprocated.

Pulling the covers back to expose us, I thumbed at her nipples, finding them already hard. I ignored the throbbing of my cock, and I lowered myself between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and I was desperate to have her slick coat my tongue. I wasted no time as I dove in, making out with her pussy, tasting every bit of her, mapping and testing her creases and folds.

Her hands ran through my hair, and her thighs clamped around my head. Her moans and pleas had me impossibly hard. I rutted against the bed as I slid two fingers inside her, sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her voice hitched, and her body tensed, so I doubled my efforts. She shattered, and I removed my fingers to delve my tongue deep inside, gulping down her release and savoring her tangy flavor.

I came onto the sheets with a muffled grunt as I wrung every ounce of her orgasm from her. When she relaxed with a sigh, I kissed up her body, elated and aroused as she kissed me deep and sucked at my tongue.

I pulled back to look at her - at this incredible woman who loved me and was willing to give herself to me. She ran her hand from my brow to my jaw, her eyes following the touch, a soft smile on her lips as she met my eyes. It felt incredibly intimate, and I laid my head on her chest, my body pressing into her. I was hiding from the onslaught of emotions she was creating inside me.

Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and one hand moved to run her nails over my scalp softly. I sighed and relaxed, taking the much-needed comfort she offered.

This was the part I always missed out on. It's always awkward mornings or quick goodbyes. With Y/N, I could stay, linger, and accept the peace and comfort I was always denied. I may have dozed off lying on her, but she never moved, her hands and nails soothing and relaxing me.

God, I hoped it would always be like this. To be safe and loved in someone’s arms.

FOREVERS:

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@leigh70

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DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

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#not our first fan #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #longshot #long oneshot

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fqirysim · 10 months

Text

untitled--

genre(s): angst, some fluff at the end, exes to best friends to lovers, highschool au, lowercase intended, lots of pov changes

requested: nope !

pairing(s): yang jungwon x reader, ft. yuna (itzy), and intak (p1h)

word count: 7.2k (my longest fic yet ! )

warning(s): cursing, underage drinking, a tiny bit of infidelity

synopsis: you had been in love with yang jungwon since the day you met him.

note: lowercase is intended, lots of pov changes! (read carefully so you don’t get confused lol). this took me a year to make PLEASE don't judge too harshly i put my heart and soul into this 😭. took me a year to make but could not come up with a title for the life of me, hence why it is called untitled, silly silly me. this was really fun to make though and although it took me a while to make, i'm very proud of it. lmk if you want to be added to my taglist and i will gladly do so !! special thanks to my bestie abby and my bf dean for proofreading love you both <3333

—------

you were certain this was the end of your friendship with jungwon. again. but this time you knew it would be permanent.

he was the boy who lived next door. growing up, you had always admired him from afar. the class president who everyone, including the upperclassmen, seemed to get along with.

you had liked him until freshman year, when you got tired of pining over someone who didn’t seem to hold any interest in you. as comical as it seems, that was around the time that he had started to take an interest in you.

and so he courted you, bringing you your favorite drink, walking you home, even coming over for dinner and hanging out at your house. this helped blossom a friendship that no one saw coming, and it wasn’t long until people started to wonder if you two were an item.

it took two months for jungwon to muster up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend.

you were sure you were over your crush on him, that it was just a silly childhood crush. but as you hung out with him more and more, you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again. of course you said yes, because who wouldn’t say yes to the pretty starry-eyed boy standing before you?

jungwon was a nice boyfriend; going on dates quite often, never fought, and he would buy you flowers without being asked.. maybe the latter was why the whirlwind relationship only lasted five months.

you remember the day so vividly, sitting on the bench at your favorite park; the same park where jungwon had asked you to be his, and here he was, asking you to break up.

it seemed poetic in a kind of way, starting as his, and leaving as no one’s.

“i’m sorry. i’ve just lost romantic feelings,” jungwon stated, staring down at the grass as a breeze of wind came, the blades of grass swaying slightly. “it’s just that we’ve both been so busy with other things, and i guess we kinda just like, drifted apart because of it.”

“yeah, i think so too,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the slight sting in your heart.

his head snapped up, your eyes finally meeting his, “wait, actually? you’re not lying?” the sound of relief in his voice made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.

“do you want to get rid of me that bad?” you instead teased with a grin.

“no!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. “i still wanna be friends with you. i might not like you romantically anymore, but i don’t wanna like, lose the friendship we have, you know?”

“yeah,” you replied, “we can still be friends.”

and you two meant it. there were no tears, and no broken hearts (that you would like to admit). it was just a simple case of the right person and the wrong time, and as the years continued, you tried to convince yourself that it was just nothing. that jungwon was not your “right” anything- he was just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

you were almost successful. until your last year of high school approached.

you and jungwon kept your word, you stayed friends. always being seen together; walking to class, walking home, studying in the library, eating lunch in the cafeteria.

people still believed you were together, and you always had to correct them, because no you and jungwon were no longer together and no you were not a thing.

they never believed you, though.

there was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes when someone would ask. that you and jungwon were a thing and that he was yours and you were his. but you never did, callingyourself crazy for even thinking of doing so.

you found yourself doing it again as yuna had asked you earlier in the week.

yuna was the new girl this year, having transferred from jyp high. from what you heard, she was nice, smart, and she was gorgeous. you were never one to put yourself down, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel insecure standing next to her.

“no, jungwon and i are not dating,” you smiled politely. it was almost like a script at this point. “we’re just good friends.”

“that’s good to hear,” yuna smiled, her eyes sparkling. “i just wanted to ask him out, but i wasn’t going to if you had a thing!”

“oh, you’re thinking of confessing to him?” you questioned. there was that little part of you again. the part that always said no! tell them you’re a thing! tell them to not do it!

“yeah, he’s in a bunch of my classes. he’s super smart and polite and he always knows how to make me laugh. and he has such pretty eyes,” she sighed dreamily as her mouth formed into a lovesick smile.

“well, he has that effect on people,” you grinned.

i would know, you thought.

“i say go for it! he’s not particularly interested in anyone, you have a good chance.”

“you really think so?” she asked, eyes wide.

god, i hope not, you thought. as shitty as it was, you didn’t want jungwon to move on. you felt sick at the thought of him being with someone else.

“why not?” you said instead. “he’ll be at the library after school today studying, i’m supposed to meet him, but i can just tell him something came up.”

“oh my god, you’re the best!” she squealed, engulfing you in a hug. “thank you thank you thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her, ignoring the green monster growing within you.

—----

it had been four days since your conversation with yuna. every time you saw him, you waited for him to bring up the date with baited breath- but he hadn’t said anything. not yet at least.

or maybe yuna simply didn’t ask him on a date. that’s what you were secretly hoping, at least.

it seemed hoping wasn’t enough. on the fifth day jungwon approached you from down the hall with those twinkling eyes and a bright smile you love so much, he seemed more energetic than usual with a little hop in his step.

“you’re not gonna believe what happened today!” he exclaimed as he reached you at your locker.

you could believe it. you were the one who hooked yuna up after all. yet you feigned curiosity as you looked at him quizzically, “what is it?”

“yuna asked me on a date! me! of all people! she’s so cool and smart and nice and pretty,” he said with a dreamy look on his face.

you knew that look. the far away gaze as he thought of her. it was one you would never forget. it’s how he used to look at you. that lovesick grin and those twinkling eyes.

it had never bothered you before when jungwon had crushes on other girls, because well, that’s all they were. they never escalated into anything more. looking at his lovestruck expression, realization hit that jungwon wasn’t yours anymore.

you shouldn’t have thought of it that way. you should be happy for him! you should’ve been celebrating with him and cheering him on!

you couldn’t help the bittersweet smile on your face as you replied, “oh, well that’s nice.”

his smile faltered slightly at your expression, concern slowly forming on his face.

“are you okay?” he asked.

“i’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, regaining your composure. “i’m happy for you! and don’t worry about spending less time with me, you’re gonna be a busy guy now! with a girlfriend…”

“okay, she is not my girlfriend. and even if she was, I would never ditch you!”

“yeah whatever you say, loverboy,” you joked, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder.

“no seriously, y/n,” he replied, softly. “are you okay with yuna and i being a thing? i just don’t want it to be weird because you and i used to be a thing, and i know we’re both over that but i just wanted to make sure-,”

“what, me?” you scoffed, cutting the boy off. “what you and i had wasn’t serious, it was just some dumb high school fling.”

even as you spoke those words, you knew they weren’t true. it was more than just a fling. you loved him and maybe you still did.

silence hung between you, the hallway getting quieter as the remaining students scrambled to their classes, the late bell ringing, leaving you and jungwon in the hallway alone.

he looked hurt at what you said. you immediately wanted to take it back, to say you didn’t mean it and that he was your first love and you didn’t want him going on that date with yuna.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that,” you muttered, not being able to meet his eyes and instead turning to close your locker.

“no, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he replied, as he started to back away, making his way to his class down the hall. “you’re right, it was just a fling, and honestly, it’s so weird to think of us as a couple.”

it was like your world was falling apart around you as he spoke. did you interpret his hurt expression wrong? maybe this all was one-sided. did he not feel his heart breaking like you did? did he not wonder occasionally (or everyday) how his life would be if you were still together? did he not miss what you had?

maybe there really was nothing between you and jungwon but friendship.

“yeah, so weird,” you awkwardly smiled, walking to catch up with him. “but you and i, we’re good, right?”

“yep, no worries,” he grinned back.

“good,” you smiled. “so when’s your date?”

his eyes brightened ever so slightly as you asked. he started to describe his date– how he was going to take her to the beach and have a picnic and play in the sand.

you nodded along, your mind wandering off to when jungwon would take you on beach dates, burying him in the sand, splashing him with water and swimming away before he could splash you back.

you looked over at the boy in question, his starry eyes wide as he talked about his date plans, his smile wide and giddy, his tone as sweet as honey as he talked about her.

you knew you shouldn’t villainize yuna– she was a nice girl, a very nice one. it wasn’t her fault you were still in love with jungwon, and it surely wasn’t her fault that she liked him. it’s not like you could choose who you could fall in love with.

you of all people would know.

so you smiled and nodded along as you walked him to class, listening to him go on and on about his plans. you finally settled with the fact then and there, that jungwon would never be yours again. you had to let go.

—--------

it has been six months since that day. the day that you had decided to give up. yuna and jungwon have been inseparable since then.

he kept to his word though; still studying with you after school, showing up when you needed him, hanging out together. sometimes yuna would tag along, which you didn’t mind. she was fun to be around.

you also didn’t mind being the third wheel when she was around, instead teasing the couple and even offering to take pictures for them. they were a lovely couple and they were seemingly happy– jungwon especially, and that was all that mattered.

the school year was coming to an end, and seeing as it was your senior year, people were throwing parties almost every weekend.

you went every once in a while, had some fun, did some underage drinking, even flirted with a couple of people.

tonight was the party though.

intak was throwing his first party of the year, and everyone knew his parties were legendary.

you sat in the uber with jungwon and yuna, anticipating the night before you. you were excited, to say the least. the last time you went to a party was a month ago, and you were ready to have fun. you even put on your best party outfit for tonight!

you arrived at intak’s house (or more like a mansion), and started to make your way inside until jungwon stopped you.

“wait! before we go in, i think we should go over some basic safety rules!” jungwon exclaimed.

you rolled your eyes with a small laugh as you replied, “only you would go over safety rules at a party.”

“i’m serious, y/n, really bad things could happen,” he shot back with a pointed expression.

“okay wonie, go ahead, we’re all ears,” yuna smiled supportively.

you ignored the slight heart ache at yuna using your old nickname for jungwon- the one you used when you were together.

get it together, y/n you thought. letting go, remember?

you instead smiled and nodded reassuringly at jungwon, who looked over at you to make sure you were paying attention.

he sighed before continuing, “okay, i won’t be doing any drinking so i can babysit you guys all night. if you need to use the bathroom give your drinks to me so i can watch them. and y/n, if you leave the party at any point, for any reason, please let me know first.”

“sir, yes sir,” you muttered.

“now let’s go have some fun!” yuna exclaimed, dragging the both of you by the wrists.

you finally entered the house, where there seemed to be everyone from your school. even kids who graduated last year were in attendance, and as you searched the party for a familiar face that wasn’t jungwon or yuna, intak strolled over, a wide smile on his face.

“you guys made it!” he shouted over the loud thumping of the music. he was wearing a letterman jacket with a white shirt underneath, and a pair of baggy straight legged jeans. the outfit looked so good on him that you had almost forgotten that you were talking to intak of all people.

“you look nice, y/n,” he grinned.

you would’ve had a crush on him if he didn’t flirt with every girl he laid eyes on, and it seemed like his victim of the night was you. but damn did he look good right now.

intak wasn’t a bad guy, he seemed harmless, not like the guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. he just always flirted, with no intentions of making anything serious. most of the girls he talked to never knew the latter though.

but you thought it couldn’t hurt, you were here to have fun, and if flirting with intak was the way to do it, then so be it.

you saw jungwon step forward, about to tell intak to back off and go flirt with someone else, causing you to put your hand on his arm to stop him.

you also noticed how yuna examined the scene in front of her; jungwon trying to be your knight in shining armor, and you with your hand on his arm to stop him. her eyes narrowed slightly in thought as you dropped your hand and turned to intak.

“why don’t you get me a drink and then we can talk?” you smiled dazzlingly. you usually reserved smiles like that for when you wanted to flirt and get wasted, and just as usual, it worked like a charm.

“i’ll be right back then,” intak smiled, before making his way through the crowd of bodies in search of a drink for you.

“really, y/n, intak out of all people?” jungwon questioned, arms crossed.

“yeah, and what about it?” you replied, feeling slightly annoyed at his tone of voice. he had never acted this way towards you before, but you didn’t like it. it wasn’t his business who you flirted with. he talked to you like you were an idiot and you hated the thought of him looking down on you.

yuna awkwardly stood between the two of you, not wanting to be in the middle of your fight, but not wanting to go off by herself at a party filled with people she barely knew.

“‘what about it?’” jungwon mocked your voice in a high pitched tone. “you know how he is, don’t be dumb.”

“dumb? i’m here to have fun, jungwon, not to play third wheel again,” you snapped back. “and why does it matter, you’re not my boyfriend, and you’re not my brother, so it’s really none of your fucking business.”

yuna had been looking back and forth between you and jungwon, watching as you glared at each other, waiting for someone to say something. it was like watching a tennis match.

at that moment, intak arrived, back with a red solo cup in hand.

“a drink for the prettiest girl here,” he announced, handing the cup over to you.

“why thank you love,” you replied with an innocent smile as you looked over at jungwon, still glaring at you, his arms crossed against his chest.

ignoring him, you took a sip of the drink you were given, your face scrunching up at the bitter taste.

“hey intak, why don’t we go dance?” you asked, reaching for his hand.

“that sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile of his own before you led him to the dance floor, leaving an enraged jungwon, and a slightly annoyed yuna behind you.

—-----

yuna had seen the way jungwon looked at you. she might have been a bit oblivious at first, but as time went on and she spent more time with the two of you, it became more and more apparent– jungwon had never gotten over you.

at first yuna thought she could sway him, to get him to fall for her the way he fell for you. but it never worked. he looked at you like you were his own personal angel. no matter where you were, who you were with, how you looked, he was absolutely enraptured by you, and oh, how yuna wished he looked at her like that.

it had been fifty minutes since your small tussle, and yuna and jungwon sat outside, occupying two pool chairs as he angrily took sips of his water.

“it’s like she doesn’t even care, she just ran off with him knowing he’ll never want anything serious, knowing he’s gonna lead her on, and i swear when she comes crying to me, i’m gonna tell her ‘i told you’ right to her stupid dumb face,” he rambled, placing his bottle of water harder on the table than he intended to, spilling droplets in the process.

“well, she’s young and single, and she just wants to have fun baby, there’s nothing wrong with that,” yuna replied. “and she has a point, you’re not her brother or anything, so why do you care so much?”

jungwon looked up at yuna, not being able to ignore the bitter tone in her voice, “wait, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“i’m not on anyone’s side, i’m just asking as your girlfriend why you care so much. because honestly, if i didn’t know any better, i would think that you were still in love with her,” yuna sighed, exasperated.

“i am not in love with her, i like you!” he exclaimed, way faster than he should have.

yuna wanted to believe him. she wanted to ignore every bit of doubt in her body and believe every lie he fed to her, but she couldn’t. not when she knew you loved him too. it was heartbreaking, really. to watch the person you love pine over someone else. but it was even worse knowing the feelings were reciprocated.

“don’t lie to me, jungwon,” she deadpanned, feeling her eyes start to water with tears of frustration. “i see the way you look at her, and i know for sure you haven’t gotten over her. you have never once looked at me the way you look at her, and if you like her, just say that. just say that and we can end things here, without having to make this any more heartbreaking than it already is.”

yuna didn’t want to cry. the last thing she wanted to do was cry, but the feelings of anger and embarrassment had overwhelmed her, causing a few traitorous tears to spill. she was angry at herself for letting it get this far, for falling in love with a boy that she knew would never love her back.

but she was also embarrassed. embarrassed that she had even tried to make an effort, that she had thought she could win him over.

she wiped her face with the back of her hand, only for more to spill out, a sob fighting for an escape from her quivering lips.

jungwon raised his hand to wipe the tears away for her, to cup her face and tell her everything would be okay and that he was sorry. but what was he sorry for? sorry for trying to keep you away from intak? or sorry that maybe yuna was right and he did still love you?

just as he opened his mouth to speak, you stumbled out, words slurring and barely able to walk as you stumbled your way over to them.

“hey guys!” you exclaimed, as a worried intak came rushing out the house behind you.

“oh god, y/n, are you okay?” jungwon asked, immediately walking over to your side to support your stumbling figure. yuna would have felt bitter over jungwon rushing to your side faster than he had ever run to hers. yet, despite the devil on her shoulder that told her to be petty, she instead felt worried for you. you could barely even stand up straight.

“what the fuck did you do to her?” jungwon asked, throwing an accusatory look at intak.

“nothing dude, i promise! she was the one who wanted to drink, she had like 5 drinks within the span of like, 10 minutes,” intak replied, panicked. “is she going to be okay? does she have a way to get home safely?”

jungwon looked from yuna to you, who was falling asleep just standing there.

“just take her home,” yuna sighed. “i’m not gonna make you choose because we all know who you’d choose every single time.”

“yuna it’s not like that,” jungwon groaned. “listen, i’ll bring her home, and then i’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk this out, okay? i promise.”

“okay, just get her home safe first,” yuna replied.

you might have been the biggest obstacle in her relationship, but you were still a nice girl, and you had technically done nothing wrong, so yuna had no reason to want to keep you and jungwon apart. you were also wasted as fuck and there was no way you would be able to get home by yourself without something horrible potentially happen to you.

jungwon grabbed his almost full water bottle from the table he was sitting at, muttering that he would “need it to sober you up”.

he gave yuna one last reassuring smile before he walked away, you on his back as he tried his best to carry you home.

yuna sighed as she watched you go. she felt like something bad would happen today, something worse than her argument with jungwon, and she wanted nothing else but to go home and cry.

all she could do was trust jungwon, even if she knew she already lost him, even if she knew she was never a contestant in the first place.

—------

jungwon almost did it.

he almost carried you all the way home, but his legs felt like they were gonna give out once he reached the park near your house, and he decided then and there that he needed a break.

he sat you on the playground set, sitting beside you with a huff.

you were awake by this point, taking long sips of the water bottle jungwon had given you. you wanted to sober up by the time you got home, but it wasn’t really working, with your words still slurring slightly and your mind all dizzy.

the two of you sat in silence as you gazed at the stars and jungwon thought of his argument with yuna.

maybe she was right.

even now, as he glanced over at you, studying the stars, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his face warm up.

“do you remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend in this park?” you chuckled. “we were so young then, it feels like forever ago.”

jungwon was thrown off by the sudden conversation starter, but still smiled, “yeah, i remember it very well. i felt like i was gonna throw up because i was so nervous.”

you turned your head to look at him and giggled as his smile grew wider.

“what, what are you laughing at?”

“nothing, i was just so in love with you then. i used to think that we would be together forever and ride off into the sunset in a carriage.”

jungwon inspected you as you talked, trying to decipher if there was any meaning behind your words or if it was just the liquor talking.

“i just thought we were some high school fling?” he half-joked as he nudged you with his shoulder. he didn’t want it to seem like he was serious if you were sobering up.

he felt his heart start to race as he stared at your slightly flushed face from the drinks you had, your hair fluttering as a soft breeze blew by. you were everything that jungwon had ever wanted, and here you were, telling him how much you used to love him.

wait, no, what the hell am i doing? jungwon thought to himself. it wasn’t fair to yuna. it was already unfair to her that he only started to date her to get over you. he thought that if he dated her long enough, he would stop loving you and love her instead.

and he genuinely thought it worked. fuck, he thought. i’m such a shitty person.

until he saw you with intak, flirting, dancing with him, laughing at his jokes, he had never felt so jealous in his life, and yuna had noticed. and she was upset, which was fair. what wasn’t fair was jungwon using her to get over you.

use. he hated the icky feeling that word gave him.

“i lied,” you muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what did you say?” jungwon asked, making sure that he had heard you right.

“i lied,” you repeated, eyes on everything but him. “i loved you, and i think i still do.”

your eyes finally met his as you continued, “you are everything to me, jungwon. i’ve been in love with you since forever, and i only agreed to break up because you said you wanted to.”

jungwon could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he searched your eyes for any hesitation, any sign that this was a lie, or some sort of joke. his heart beat so fast he felt like he was gonna explode as he looked into your eyes, so earnest and so genuine and so filled with love that he knew you had sobered up.

you reached for his hands in his lap, interlacing your fingers with his.

“i can’t keep this from you,” you breathed. “i love you, yang jungwon, and i know you’re dating yuna, but i just have to tell you that i love you, that i always have and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i don’t expect you to leave her for me or anything, but i can’t help it anymore. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

silence hung over the two of you as he tried to form a coherent sentence after your confession. it felt like suddenly his brain didn’t know how to make him talk, to make him say i love you too, or to make him do anything, really.

a minute passed, and then two as jungwon searched your eyes with the same desperation yours had– desperate to love and to be loved by the person sitting in front of you.

jungwon didn’t know who leaned closer first. he thought it was you but maybe it was him. he didn’t even feel like he was in control of his body as he leaned closer and closer, his hand moving to hold your face, searching your face for any hesitation, for any kind of doubt.

you were so close that he could smell the perfume you sprayed before you left your house and the drinks that you had earlier that night.

impatient, jungwon finally closed the gap between the two of you, your soft lips colliding with his. he could have kissed you forever, wanting to stay forever in time there. until realization hit him.

yuna.

he pulled away abruptly, your eyes still closed as you chased his lips with yours. he would have found it cute if he weren’t trying his best not to panic right now. he just kissed you. while he was still dating yuna.

he thought of the look on yuna’s face if she found out– the angry, hurt expression that she had at the party, and even worse, the tears. he would break the poor girl’s heart.

“i should go,” jungwon breathed, quickly standing up from his seat beside you. “it’s almost past my curfew.”

“wait, jungwon,” you said, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt before he could walk away. “i think we should talk about this before you go.”

“yeah, we can talk later,” he replied dismissively. “i just need some time to think.”

you opened your mouth to say something else– anything else to make him stay, but closed it as you saw he was already speed-walking in the direction of his house.

you thought that you would lose him forever after your breakup. you had almost lost jungwon once, and you were nearly positive that you won’t be so lucky to keep him this time.

you felt sick to your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was from the drinks or from the events that had just occurred, but nonetheless you felt nauseous.

you hunched over as you started to gag, your vomit flowing out of your mouth, tears streaming down your face.

you wiped your mouth with your sleeve, rinsing your mouth out with water as you started to tear up.

before you knew it, you felt sobs rising, your nose stuffed from crying, your throat getting dry from the sobbing. the embarrassment and sorrow was finally catching up to you– all of the years of repressed love you felt for jungwon, all of the embarrassment from him leaving after you confessed, embarrassment from being a homewrecker– it all came crashing down on you.

you couldn’t go home like this. you were sober enough to know that, with your tear streaked face, ruined makeup, and vomit smelling breath your parents would put two and two together.

your hands shakily reached for your phone in your back pocket, dialing your brother’s number and waiting for him to pick up with baited breath. your brother was your only hope.

“hello?”

“chan?” you breathed into the phone. “i need to sleepover at your place.”

—----

yuna hated this.

the waiting, the feeling of dread as she sat on her bed, awaiting jungwon’s arrival.

the fight that had ensued was horrible, but she believed she made a valid point. if he likes y/n so much he should just go be with her, she thought bitterly.

jungwon had texted her last night at around 1 in the morning, just to make sure she got home safe. yuna didn’t respond. she instead left him on read, still pissed off from the fight.

she used to get butterflies when he would send her texts to make sure she got home safe. but now she didn’t know if he did it because he liked her or if it was just out of common courtesy.

yuna was about to just walk to his house herself before she heard a knock on her door.

“hey it’s uh, me,” she heard jungwon’s muffled voice through the door. “is it okay if i come in?”

“yeah, let’s get this over with.”

she couldn’t meet his eyes as he walked in, striding over to the corner of her bed. yuna hated waiting, but she now felt dread as the pair sat in silence for a bit, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. she had sat nowhere near him.

usually she’d be cuddled into his side, but she instead opted to sit at the head of her bed, seemingly as far away from him as possible. she was worried that if she was too close to him, she’d crack; she’d look at his doe eyes and forgive him and that would ruin the entire point of her argument.

“so,” she cleared her throat, interrupting the silence. “did y/n get home safe?”

“yeah, she’s at her brother’s apartment. he texted me when she got there.”

“‘when she got there?’ did you not walk her there?”

“no, he picked her up from the park near our houses. but anyways, i have something important to tell you.”

yuna felt even more dread seeping into her as he finished his sentence. she should’ve seen this coming from the start. here it comes: the breakup.

“i kissed y/n last night.”

yuna’s eyes widened in surprise. she had expected the breakup, yes. she knew jungwon was emotionally cheating, but now he was physically cheating?

“wait, are you being serious right now?” she laughed in astonishment. she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man sitting in front of her.

“i know it’s bad. i feel horrible, because an amazing woman like you should never be treated as horrible as i’ve treated you, and i am so so sorry,” jungwon started, tearing up from how bad he felt. “all of the apologies in the world could never make up for how i’ve treated you. i’ve made you feel terrible and i’m just making it worse by breaking up with you to be with her.”

“i love y/n, yuna. and i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, or that you had to find out for yourself before i even knew. you are so so perfect yuna-,”

“but i’m just not perfect for you?” she replied, tears starting to form as she breathed those words.

the silence that followed was more than enough to answer her question.

she hated this. she hated this so so much. but she didn’t hate you, or jungwon. she just hated how love worked, how she had to fall in love with the one boy who couldn’t love her back. she hated that she gave her heart away to a boy that was never going to belong to her– not fully.

she wanted to scream, to throw something, hell, maybe even hit him. she instead took a deep breath, composing herself before she said, “okay. go be with her then.”

jungwon looked over at her, wanting nothing but to comfort yuna. he may not be in love with her, but he did love her, and he still cared for her.

“i’m sorry, yuna,” jungwon said instead. “you’re an amazing girl, but you should never be anyone’s second choice, and i’m sorry for making you feel like mine.”

yuna couldn’t even look at him, fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she wore.

“just leave, please,” she muttered.

she didn’t want him to see her cry, he had already broken her once, she didn’t want him to see her fall apart again.

with a guilty expression, jungwon hurried away, also not wanting to see her cry again. he felt gross. he felt disgusted with himself for treating her that way. he didn’t like the person he was with yuna, and he felt sick thinking about how heartbroken she was; how she was so hurt that she couldn’t even look at him.

—------

it has been two weeks since your kiss with jungwon, and you hadn’t heard a word from him since. not a single call or text, hell, he didn’t even acknowledge your existence when you walked by him in the halls.

you had seen yuna around, but seeing as jungwon wasn’t joined at her hip like he used to be, you assumed that things didn’t end quite so well between the two. knowing that you were the cause made you want to never show your face ever again, especially because of the dirty looks yuna’s friends have been giving you.

you were relieved it was the last day of the school year; you’d never have to see yuna again and feel the guilt at seeing the sadness in her eyes.

you walked into the bathroom, wanting to wash your hands after eating your lunch, when you saw yuna, touching up on her makeup in the mirror. she looked at you through the mirror above the sink, before going back to her makeup.

the tension was so thick you didn’t know if you should just leave or hide in a bathroom stall until she left.

“i’m not gonna bite, you know,” yuna chuckled.

you smiled back nervously as you started to make your way to the sink.

“yuna i’m really sorry,” you sighed, mustering whatever courage and dignity you had left.

“it’s okay,” yuna replied, finally meeting your gaze. “although it was wrong for you guys to have kissed, i saw the breakup coming from miles away. he was never mine to begin with.”

you were taken aback just by how calm she was, with the way she spoke those words with such elegance and grace. she had every right to be angry with you, to yell at you and call you a homewrecker.

“even if you did think you were going to break up, that still doesn’t excuse what i did, and i really am sorry,” you said, trying to project every feeling of sympathy and sincerity you could in that one sentence. “i’m not asking you to forgive me, or jungwon, but i just wanted to tell you that you really are a cool person, and you’ve always been so kind to me, even now. all of this for a boy, and he hasn’t even talked to me in the past two weeks.”

“wait, he hasn’t reached out to you at all?” yuna asked, confused. “i thought he would say something to you at least.”

“did he say he would?” you replied, confusion reaching you as well.

“no,” yuna replied, fixing her hair in the mirror. “i just assumed so because he’s in love with you.”

once again, you were stunned by her nonchalance. “he’s not in love with me.”

“don’t be silly,” yuna smiled softly. “i can’t tell if dating jungwon was the best or worst six months of my life, to be honest.”

“don’t get me wrong, he was a good boyfriend,” yuna backtracked quickly after seeing the guilt on your face. “he did the usual boyfriend stuff, and he really did try, but i could just always tell that his heart was always yours.”

you couldn’t meet yuna’s gaze as she said this, your face hot with shame. you felt so bad for her, and you didn’t quite know what to say in response.

“i’m sorry that things ended this way,” you finally said.

“it’s okay, it was gonna happen sooner or later,” yuna replied. “but if i’m right, then you should probably go talk to him, he’s probably going insane with guilt right now over me, and over you. bro’s got a lot on his plate.”

you gave a small chuckle at the last sentence, making yuna smile a bit.

“well thank you for the talk yuna, but i’ve gotta go. i think i need to go find jungwon.”

yuna felt her heart break a bit at the words, but she smiled anyways and said bye as she watched you leave the bathroom. yuna didn’t know if she was supposed to cry or feel happy for you and jungwon, but she did know that she was right. again. she knew his heart had always belonged to you. anyone could see that.

—--------

trying to find jungwon was easier than you expected. he was sitting on a swing, at the park that you became his, then wasn’t his anymore, and then confessed your love to him. there was so much that had happened at this park that it made your head hurt a bit just thinking about it.

“is it okay if i sit here?” you asked, motioning to the swing beside him.

“of course you can,” jungwon replied.

the two of you sat in silence.

“i don’t think we should be friends anymore,” you finally spoke up.

he jerked his head to look at you, shock coursing through him. “wait, why not?”

you took a deep breath before saying, “i can’t be friends with you anymore because i’m in love with you. there hasn’t been a moment since i’ve met you that i haven’t been.”

his heart skipped a beat at your words.

this was it, this is what you’d been waiting for since the day you laid eyes on jungwon. but you didn’t think it would go quite like this. you sat there for a moment as jungwon studied you, and you wished he would say something, anything.

“but did you ever consider how i felt?” he finally asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “have you ever considered that maybe i’ve felt the same way?”

you felt your breath catch in your throat as he continued, “i’ve seen you everyday since we were five when your family moved in next door. but i didn’t really see you until freshman year, sitting in class by the window, your hair flowing from the breeze that came through, doodling in your notebook instead of paying attention to the lesson. and when you caught me staring, you smiled and waved, and i swear i fell in love with you that day. that day, i knew my heart would always be yours.”

“so please,” jungwon pleaded. “please, do whatever you want with it. you could break it a million times over and it would still be yours.”

now this, this was exactly you had always dreamed of.

you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, trying to convey all the repressed love you’ve had for him for years through the kiss. you loved him. you loved every single part of jungwon, every flaw, every imperfection, everything that made him him.

“so does this mean we’re official?” jungwon grinned as he pulled away, a playful look in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling the heart eyes in your gaze and the way your heart melted just by looking at him.

“took you long enough.”

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thirdsaltyhunter · 11 months

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Fight for Love

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Summary: a fight between you and Dean leads to some unintended truth slipping out, maybe that's not a bad thing

Warning: flangst, arguing, self hate, implied smut, set in season 9(spoilers)

A/N: Not proofread all mistakes are my own.

You and Dean had been screaming at each other for a good 10 minutes now. It had gotten to the point where Sam had given up trying to be the mediator and snuck away to the library, to let you fight it out in the map room.

This argument had started when you found out Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain and to make it worse, he had hidden it from you for over a week. After you saw it on his arm and started asking questions, he tried to brush you off like it wasn't a big deal. Your anger had flared, but what you wouldn't admit, was that that anger, was fueled by fear and concern for your friend.

You had been friends with the boys for years and fought by their side. It wasn't long after getting to know them, that you started to develop feelings for the older Winchester, despite your best efforts at keeping your heart in check. At this point, those feeling had developed into being hopelessly in love with him. You wouldn't say anything though; you knew your feelings were unrequited.

"Do you know how bad of an idea that was Dean, we know literally nothing about what that mark could do to you.", you yelled as he paced back and forth on the other side of the map table.

"We had no other option Y/N, what was I supposed to do?"

"We could've figured out a plan that didn't involve you getting a murderous tramp-stamp."

"Well it's too late now isn't it.", he was practically fuming now.

"Ok, then we'll get it off!", your yelling was elevated by the frustration and anxiety that was coursing through your veins.

"And why the fuck do you even care?", he yelled, leaning forward. He seemed so close to you despite still being across the table.

At his question, it was like something snapped inside you at his audacity to even ask you that. All rational thinking and control went out of your mind.

"Because I love you!", you responded, voice louder than it had been throughout your whole argument. However your screamed admission of the words you had tried so hard to keep to yourself for years, was followed by a deafening silence. All of your anger and fire drained out of you and was replaced by pure dread and regret.

You wondered for a brief moment, if you had in fact said those words aloud, but one look at Dean's face, at his shocked expression, confirmed that you had. You had just brought your walls of emotional repression crashing down around you.

You glanced to your right to see that Sam had reemerged from the library, clearly he had heard you and wanted to see how this scene would play out. Sam, being your best friend, had always encouraged you to admit your feelings to Dean, but you had always thought that was a terrible idea. There was no way someone like him could want you. You didn't deserve him anyway. All of the terrible outcomes ran through your head, Dean rejecting you, or getting mad at you and kicking you out of the Bunker, or things becoming awkward and you losing your closest friends.

You were waiting for one of these possibilities to happen as you stared at the floor while Dean still stared at you in stunned silence. In reality, it had only been a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped and you couldn't stand waiting anymore. So you ran.

"Y/N wait!", Sam called after you, but your feet were already carrying you to the garage. You grabbed your keys and got in your car as fast as you could, you wanted to be far away from this situation, somewhere you wouldn't have to face Dean. His silence made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you and you didn't think your heart could handle his rejection... or worse.

Dean's POV

After about 20 minutes of driving, your thoughts had spiraled to the point that your hands were shaking, so you pulled off the road into a field. You got out of your car to go sit on the hood and think, try to come up with a plan on what to do next, but it was like your mind wasn't working. You hadn't even realized it, but you were crying. You just wished you could go back in time and take back those words.

Dean didn't break out of his trance of disbelief until he heard the garage door slam behind you. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that you had just admitted you loved him, he thought there was no way someone like you could want someone like him.

"What the hell man!", Sam said, exasperated. "Why did you just stand there?"

"I don't know Sam!". He felt like an idiot. Why did he just stand there? Why didn't he say anything? And now you were gone. "What do I do?", he asked his brother.

"Well, it's too late to follow her, so we'll have to find her."

"How?"

Your POV

The younger Winchester thought for a moment. "We can try to track her phone and hope she didn't turn it off."

You couldn't have been sitting on your hood, drowning in stress, for more than 30 minutes before you heard the distinct rumbling of the impala. You forgot to turn the location off on your phone. Fuck. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you prayed to any god listening, that it was Sam in the car and not Dean. But you knew better. You knew just from the sound of his footsteps who it was.

Dean came and sat next to you in the hood of your car. You couldn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes when he saw you were crying.

"Sweetheart, please look at me", he said after a moment of silence. He placed a hand on your knee and you immediately jerked away.

"You don't need to say anything Dean, I get it." You still weren't looking at him. You really didn't want to hear some "it's not you it's me" speech.

"Get what?", he asked, genuinely confused at how you were reacting.

"I'm so sorry", you said, completely ignoring his question; your eyes welling with a new wave of tears.

"Whoa whoa, hey", he said softly, moving off the hood to kneel in front of you. Your hands went up to hide your face. "C'mon look me Sweetheart. Please.", he pulled your hands away from your face to hold them.

"Please don't kick me out." You knew that was an irrational fear to have and Dean would probably never do that to you, but the weight of your insecurity was heavy on your mind.

He was taken aback by your words but his heart broke at how upset you looked and the tear stains on your cheeks. He realized then, what was going through your mind; you thought he was going to reject you.

"Hey, no one's kicking you out." He gently squeezed your hands. "Look at me."

His voice sounded so gentle but you could pick up on the hint of what sounded like nervousness. You finally met his eyes.

"I love you too." Your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, but you knew how monumental Dean Winchester, saying those words to anyone, was. "I should have told you that a long time ago, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

"Y-you love me?" you were still shocked, you wanted to cry for a whole other reason now. Relief. Happiness. Gratitude.

"Have for a long time sweetheart, how could I not." He could still tell you didn't believe him so he leaned up slowly giving you plenty of time to pull away, before planting a gentle kiss to your lips. It felt like you were going to combust and he was the only thing keeping you tethered to earth.

Once your brain had caught up and he pulled away, you decided the kiss was entirely to short for your liking. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into a kiss, that tried to make up for all the years of waiting. Laying back on the hood of your car you pulled him to stand between you legs as he continued to kiss you.

Things were getting pretty heated before Dean pulled back to look down at you. "We don't have to take this any farther if you don't want to," he said, eyes laced with softness and concern.

"Dean if you don't want to go any farther because you want to take things slow, that's fine with me, but if you're saying that because you're worried about me... I've been waiting for nine years, don't make me wait any longer."

A smile, that you hadn't seen in a long time, lit up his face. "Then why don't we move to the car," he motioned to the sky. It apparently had started lightly raining at some point and was about to start coming down harder.

Laying in his arms, completely blissed out, you listened to his breathing and the rain hitting the roof of the car. You ran your hand down his arm until you got to his forearm. You stopped to run your thumb over the mark. "Does it hurt?" you asked.

You nodded in agreement, before taking his offered hand so you could climb off your hood. He opened the back door of the impala for you and let you get in before joining you and shutting the door. You were going to wait out the rain and try to make up for all the lost time.

"Not really. It did at first." he took a breath before continuing. "I'm sorry, I know it was a stupid move."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just worry about you."

Before he could respond, you heard his phone ring from the floorboard. You groaned, not wanting to move from his hold.

He chuckled at your annoyance. "It's probably Sam. It's been hours, we should at least let him know you didn't wind up in a ditch somewhere."

"Fine," you said with a playful eyeroll and reached down to grab his phone. You read Sam's name on the caller ID and answered it. "Hey Sammy," you greeted.

"Oh h-hey!" he said clearly surprised to hear your voice instead of Dean's. "So I guess Dean found you."

"Yeah everything's good. We're ok."

"Ok good," he said with a hint of relief.

"We'll be home soon, I promise." You said your goodbyes to Sam, before hanging up and putting Dean's phone back in his pocket. "I guess we should head back." You didn't want to break this moment, almost fearing that what had happened between you two would disappear when you left the safety of the car.

He nodded with a sigh and began gathering your clothes.

Once you were both redressed, you went to reach for the door handle and head back to your car. Dean's hand on your arm stopped you.

"We'll get your car tomorrow, just ride home with me tonight," he pleaded.

"Ok," you breathed, relieved that the moment still wasn't ending.

You had settled into the front seat with him and began the drive back to the bunker, when you had an idea. Rummaging through his box of cassettes you found the one you were looking for.

"What are you doing, Sweetheart?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"Don't worry about it, you just keep driving." You smiled at him and slipped the tape into the cassette player.

Dean started to laugh as soon as he recognized what song you had played. "Did you just 'Night Moves' me ?"

You nodded and started singing along with Seger's voice with a huge smile on your face.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x gn!reader

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starryevermore · 6 months

Text

the house of snow (11) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: finally, coriolanus can call you his.

word count: 2,423

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: coryo’s pov, pet name (petal), not proofread

Coriolanus Snow was eighteen when he asked for your hand.

He had just graduated from the Academy—no thanks to Dean Highbottom—and he was due to ship out to whatever Peacekeeper base he was assigned to by the end of the week. He was fine with the idea of being a Peacekeeper. As fine as he could be, at least. Because his father had been a general during the war, people could easily believe that his enlistment was to honor his father—not because the Snows were penniless. His brilliance demanded more, of course, but he could come back to the Capital eventually. Perhaps find clever ways to invest his money.

The worst part, though, was the idea of not seeing you again. He loved, no, adored, his verbal sparring matches with you. He adored how you got a rise out of him so easily, as if you weren’t even trying. He adored the way you occupied his every thought. To not be able to hear you rant, or see the way a smirk would curl across your face when you discovered something particularly clever to say, would be the death of him.

He surely looked pathetic, standing in your father’s office, his hands clasped together to hide their shaking as he asked, “Sir, could I please have your daughter’s hand in marriage?”

Your father scarcely looked up from his paperwork. “You’re shipping out soon, are you not? Or did my friends at the Peacekeeping Office mislead me?”

Coriolanus swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. But your daughter…I have never met a more brilliant person.” More quietly, he admitted, “She makes me want to be a better man.”

Your father glanced up, quickly, then looked down again. “She deserves a better life than one on a military base.”

“I agree, sir. I will provide her one. I don’t intend to serve the rest of my life.” Intent and reality were different. Competing. While Coriolanus might not want to be a Peacekeeper forever, he very well might be. “I already have a ring for her.”

He opened his hand and placed the ring on your father’s desk. It was a family heirloom. One of the few that hadn’t been sold off to pay their debts. His Grandma’am insisted that he keep it. He would need it, after all, for when he found the woman he wished to marry. And for every night after that day at the opera, he had pulled it from his nightstand and imagined how it might look, sitting prettily on your finger.

Your father glanced up again and pushed the ring away. “Ask again when your service is up.”

Every part of Coriolanus wanted to scream and shout and insist that he be granted your hand. No one could love you better, he was sure of it. But fighting your father…That would ensure he never got to marry you. So, he swallowed again, plucked the ring from the desk, and thanked your father for his time.

Coriolanus Snow was eighteen, still, when he asked for your hand again.

Over the last several months, he had worn that ring alongside his dog tags. It was his only rebellion he had against the strict Peacekeeper regimen. It was his only reminder of what he was fighting so hard for. And now, after the Plinths had found some convoluted reason to grant him a portion of their fortune—something about a debt that Sejanus owed him in school—he was back in the Capital.

Your father was leaned back in his chair as Coriolanus asked again, making his case for why he would be a dutiful husband. When he finished, your father said, “The ton knows how your wealth was squandered after the war. How you were only saved from ruin by the generosity of the Plinths.” Your father practically spat on their name. “Why should I let my daughter marry into that?”

“I would never let her experience financial ruin, I can promise you that. What happened with my family was, is, a travesty. But we are a proud family, and we have been working to rebuild ourselves. There was hardly a family not so afflicted by the war. We might have had a boost by the Plinth family, but I will not allow our good name to be sullied.”

Your father eyed Coriolanus, scrutinizing every details. From how new his suit was, to the buzzcut that was slowly being grown out. “I don’t doubt that. But I will need more reassurance that my daughter will be taken care of. You have to understand.”

Coriolanus could only nod, scared of what acid might fall from his lips if he deigned to speak.

“Ask again when you make a name for yourself.”

Coriolanus Snow was four and twenty when he asked again.

He was the King now. The Electors had granted him the title after the Former King Ravinstill passed. Coriolanus had fought like hell, clawed himself up from the pits of poverty, to get to this moment. He made sure he did everything right. Carefully coaxed the Electors and their families into thinking he was a friend. Convinced them that he would do right by Panem, do right by the Capital. Honeyed his words at every turn. But he did not care for any of that. All he wanted was to have you by his side, protected against any harm that may come your way. The only thing that stood in his way was the man standing before him.

Your father stood behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back. Coriolanus barely had gotten the question out when your father said, “You have gone to great lengths to make a name for yourself these last five years.”

And he had. He barely participated in the social seasons beyond speaking to the families in power. Speaking to those who would have sway in his appointment as president when the time came. He made no time for himself. Coriolanus had a goal, and he would be damned if he didn’t meet it.

“None of it matters if I do not have a powerful woman by my side,” he said.

Your father let out a chuckle. “She is something, isn’t she? I worry what she might say if I tell her that I’ve given her away without even consulting her.”

The answer was no, Coriolanus realized. Nothing he did would be good enough for this man. “Sir, with all due respect, I will come here every week and ask for her hand. There is nothing in this land I want more. Your daughter is…Everything to me. And I would give her everything just to make her smile. So, please, just tell me what I must do for you to give her away.”

Your father stared for a long, silent moment. “Court her. Properly. Only then will I say yes.”

Coriolanus Snow was four and twenty, still, when he received your hand.

After a promenade in the square, after a spat where you thought yourself to be little more than a pawn in his game, Coriolanus had come to your father’s office. He could not prove his love to you during this courtship, not when you still thought there was a chance he would change his mind. No, he could only show his love when you knew that he had dedicated everything to marrying you.

Your father stood in front of Coriolanus. He hadn’t even gotten the question out when your father said, “I suppose this will be the last time you come here like this?”

Coriolanus swallowed the proud smirk that dared to cross his face. Finally. Finally a yes. “You can rest assured that she will want for nothing.”

“I don’t doubt it with a man as persistent as you.”

Coriolanus Snow was four and twenty, still yet, as he stood at the altar, watching your father leading you down the altar.

You were a vision in white. Tigris had adorned you in a beautiful gown, white roses embroidered on the skirts and your lacy long sleeves. A veil obscured your face from him, but he was sure you looked like a proper Queen. The sort of woman that would send the proudest of men to their knees. And he would gladly kneel before you.

You stepped up to the altar alone, your father taking a seat beside your mother. Coriolanus reached for your hand and didn’t let go as you stood in front of him.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you, Coryo.”

He hoped you were smiling behind the veil. He hoped you were as happy as him. And he was sure you were when you whispered, “Do you think the officiant should faint if you kissed me now?”

Coriolanus laughed so hard that he considered kissing you right then and there before whisking you away to his private chambers, the rest of the ceremony be damned. “You are wicked, petal, for teasing me like this.”

“You take pleasure in it.”

And, oh, how he did.

Coriolanus never despised events more than when the ton celebrated his marriage while he bided his time to love you the way you deserved. He was tired of entertaining people. It was a beautiful ceremony and even more beautiful reception, to be sure, but Coriolanus could not stand the amount of people approaching him to offer their congratulations. Not, at least, when he was trying to kiss you and dance with you and tell you how he loved you.

You patted his hand as his knuckles turned white, clutching the arm of his chair, when yet another person came up to speak to him. “You need to relax. The ton is going to think that something is wrong if you keep acting like this.”

“Something is wrong,” he muttered. “I can’t even enjoy my time with my wife because everyone thinks they’re more worthy of my time. Worse yet, not a single one of them has so much as acknowledged you.”

How frustrating that was. Did the ton only think of you of some pretty little thing to hang off the King’s arm? Of course they would be so simple-minded. They did not realize you were the most brilliant person in the room. Perhaps more brilliant than him. They did not realize that you were his Queen and you were worthy of their respect. Oh, how they would learn when you would demand it—because he knew you would.

“And you can make that known later. Coryo, this is a day of celebration. Let them be frivolous today. Remind them of who you are and what that means later.”

Coriolanus released his grip on the chair. He took your hand in his own and rubbed his thumb over your fingers. “Who we are,” he corrected.

“Who we are,” you amended.

A smile tugged at his lips. “They’ll learn to bow before you.”

“I don’t want anyone to bow before me.”

“What do you want? I would give you anything. All you need do is ask.”

You said nothing. That is, until a new song began to play. You rose from your chair, and Coriolanus followed after you. “I would like to dance.”

Coriolanus led you to the middle of the floor, trying his best to mask his displeasure. He knew you better than to know you want nothing. Your family was well-to-do, but everyone had to be conscious of their spending as the Capital rebuilt itself. It was not lost on Coriolanus that your mother carefully rotated your wardrobe, ensuring that enough time had passed between one time you wore a gown and the next, less the ton realize that your family could not afford to constantly buy new dresses. Tigris had told him how you would come in to have your dresses tailored, how you could always eye the new fabrics she bought. How sometimes you would stay long after the tailoring to watch her design gowns. With him as your husband, Coriolanus would buy you as many gowns as you wanted. He would buy every book you were interested. Hell, he would adopt every cat in Panem and allow you to name them Coriolanus the III, IV, V, and VI and so on if it meant you were satisfied. You might never ask for it, but he would give you the world.

The ton watched as Coriolanus held onto your hand, the other falling to your waist. The music began to pick up as he spun you ‘round and ‘round and ‘round the floor. All Coriolanus could focus on was you. The rest of the room seemed to melt away. He pulled you closer, your body flush against his. Oh, how he loved you being this close to him. How he could hold you like this and no one could tell him any different.

You didn’t seem to be as captivated as him. With every turn, you would glance over at the crowd, displeasure fighting its way onto your face.

“Ignore them. They are not worthy of your attention,” Coriolanus murmured.

“They’re like vultures, waiting to see me, us, trip,” you said.

“Prove them wrong, then.”

“Why should they care about what I say and do? They only view me as an extension of the King now,” you say, your nose wrinkling.

Coriolanus spared a glance at the crowd. Yes, he supposed they probably did. People in the ton so rarely appreciated true wit. Now that you were his wife, anything remarkable you did would be attributed to him. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Then make then listen. Make them see. Show them the woman I fell in love with.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, petal,” Coriolanus said, his voice a near growl. “You matter to me, and so you shall matter to them.”

You said nothing, much to his ire.

He let out a breath, careful to not lose his temper with you. You didn’t deserve that, not when you were being vulnerable with him. Not when you were finally showing him the parts of you, you kept so artfully hidden. “Tell me, what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours?”

You tore your eyes from the crowd and looked up at Coriolanus. Your mouth opened and, for a second, he thought you might tell him the truth. Instead, you only said, “It doesn’t matter.”

Oh, petal, when would you realize that you were all that mattered?

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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dejwrldarchived · 6 months

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⤷‧₊˚ extra credit comes with a price when it involves professor ackerman.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female reader, female anatomy described, reader is black coded, grad student!reader, professor!levi, age gap (reader in late twenties while levi in thirties), praise kink, degradation kink, corruption kink, oral (character receiving), reader gives levi a mouth hug lol, dom!levi, told in 2nd pov, levi is 6'1 in my head and in this fic (he was made short because they didn't want him to outdo eren's face card), mdni

a repost from my old account.

The top of your black pen grazed over your lip as you stared at your current grade. Graduation was just around the corner, it was practically in the palm of your hand. But here it was sliding through your palm bit by bit as you watch your grade descend lower and lower for your physics course. You only blamed yourself. Registering for classes later than usual and was stuck with the professors that had a horrible rating on ratemyprofessor.com.

Your eyes never twitched in annoyance before reading the reviews and rating on Professor Ackerman’s. To rants about how hard his tests were, his harsh grading, and even locking the lecture hall door so late people couldn’t come in disturbing his teaching. You felt frustrated that this one course seemed to be the one to decide if you’ll be walking across the stage in a couple weeks. So, you sucked in your pride and decided to ask for the one thing Professor Ackerman wrote in bold letters on his syllabus that he does not give out.

Extra Credit.

Perhaps, you were wishing the worst as you sat in the library. Your pretty smooth thighs adjust in the seat to prevent the nervous squirming waiting for a reply. Your teeth were grazing at your lower lip as your fingers kept clicking to refresh your emails. When you saw the email, your mouth gaped open seeing that he approved giving you extra credit. You were mentally doing a happy dance as you concluded that this would be another semester of you being on the Dean’s List after Professor Ackerman’s extra credit.

You promptly responded that you’ll stop at his office before you leave campus to go home. Which you quickly got a response from Professor Ackerman. Your eyes scanned over the harsh email of him demanding you to come receive the work now because he refused to wait for a student that came to him demanding help. You let out an annoyed sigh and questioned how could such a harsh man still be a professor at your university. You packed up your stuff quickly and made your way to his office. As you were leaving, you nearly knocked down Historia and Ymir.

“I’m sorry you guys, gotta meet with Professor Ackerman.

,” You briefly said as you went to leave.

“Professor Ackerman? Gosh, the last person, who went to his office hours they dropped the class.” Historia mentioned. She toyed with the ends of her cream sweater.

“Yeah, I even heard they left his office crying,” Ymir even adds.

“Thank you guys, for making me nervous about picking up extra credit work,” You admitted as you watched them disappear into the library.

When you reached his office, you felt so nervous. Your hands shook just a little as your mind was racing with so many thoughts. You hoped you didn’t stumble on your own words as you accept the extra work. You had to walk in there with your head held high and thank him for even giving you the opportunity to get your grade up. However, when your body slid into his office majority of your thoughts went out the window and your brain grew fuzzy.

It wasn’t any secret that Professor Ackerman was drop-dead gorgeous. He aged like a fresh bottle of wine imported from Italy. Many students and faculty whispered among each other about him. Wondering if he had a lover at home or if he even socialize at all. He was a huge mystery.

“Professor Ackerman, I am here to collect the extra credit work you mentioned in your email,” You say.

Your fingers toyed with the ends of your skirt as your eyes were peering at him while he was grading papers. His eyes never bothered to look up at you, “Just sit down and give me a minute.” He uttered in annoyance.

You did what you were told, occupying the brown leather seat that sat in the corner of his nicely decorated office. Professor Ackerman let out a sigh of frustration, “Not there. Right here.” His hand that wasn’t holding the red ink ball pen motioned to the seat in front of his desk.

You quickly stood up going to the seat that was in front of his desk. He went back to grading the work on his desk as your curious eyes once again scanned his office. From the ancient artifacts that were decorating the shelves, the number of books he had, and even the one picture of him smiling with a group of friends. Which actually took you by shock even seeing him smiling at all.

“You know, I don’t really give out extra credit.” Professor Ackerman said as he finally placed his pen down to look at him.

His intimidating stare caused you to shift yourself in the seat you were sitting in. Your fingers toying with each other as you were searching for words to say. You were wondering how could you be so confident answering and refuting him in class, but now that the two of you were alone you were a flustered mess.

“Which I appreciate you for even offering it to me.” You answered truthfully.

You only gained a hum in response before he was back grading papers. “Do you know why I’m giving you extra credit (Y/N)?”

“I’m an excellent student in your class.” You answered truthfully. After all, last time you checked you did have the highest grade in his course.

“If you were so excellent, you wouldn’t be here for the extra credit.” He shot down your comment and that felt like a dagger pierced at your heart.

“Well then, I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders.

He placed the pen down once again just for him to look at you. Once again it felt like you were in the hot seat. He leaned back into his huge leather chair, “You have a pretty mouth.” He bluntly admitted.

His comment caused you to be so confused. But that was until he urged you on your knees right in front of him behind his large desk.

Your mind was racing with so many thoughts as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. The look of innocence painted your face as your hand rubbed at his clothed bulge through the charcoal grey-colored slacks he wore. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he was rolling up the sleeves of the white button-up he wore. When his sleeves were rolled up to his liking, he stared down at you. As if you were below him.

“Open your mouth.” He demanded.

You did what you were told. Opening your mouth open to show him your exposed tongue waiting for his next command.

The pad of his index and middle finger pressed against the flat of your tongue. Your eyes began to water as his slick digits only pushed further causing a pornographic gag to escape from the back of your throat. Professor Ackerman’s lips curled into a smirk as he removed his fingers, a string of saliva followed along with his digits as he went to unbutton his pants.

“Pretty smart girls like you deserve extra credit don’t you think?” Professor Ackerman questioned. His fingers toyed with the band of his Calvin Klein briefs now this his slacks were hanging loosely around his waist. “Answer me (Y/N).” He says as his thumb traced alongside your lower lip.

“Yes Professor Ackerman. A pretty smart girl like me deserves the extra credit.” You babbled.

“Mhm, I think so also. But my extra credit always comes with a price.” Professor Ackerman hummed as he tugged his cock out of his briefs. His member springing out with perfection and the only thing you could do was watch.

Your eyes lit up with eagerness and your mouth watering at the sight of his pretty cock. He kept it nicely shaved all the way down to his balls. The head of his cock was a flawless pink shade and it was shaped perfectly. You couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of his tip rubbing at your wet folds teasingly before sinking himself in you fully. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen. The way your knees were on the wooden floor as you waited for another command like a perfectly trained pet, Professor Ackerman wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of feeling his cock inside you.

His hand grabbed a hold of his cock as he tapped at your lip gloss-covered lips. A devious smirk paced on his face before he was speaking once again, “Suck it really well and the extra credit is all yours (Y/N).” He cooed.

Your heart was pounding against your chest as his precum smeared against your lips. You perched yourself on your knees to get comfortable before leaning forward to attack. Your pretty lips wrap around the head of Profesor Levi’s cock tasting the saltiness of his precum. A low hiss escaped the professor’s lips as you could feel him shutter against your touch. Your hands then went up to massage his shaft while your tongue licked up and down the base of his cock. Saliva beginning to coat your hands as your head was bobbing up and down on Professor Ackerman’s cock.

The lewd sound of sucking echoed within Professor Ackerman’s office as you were going down on him. His fingers ran through his jet-black-colored hair as he was turning into a moaning mess before you. His face turned as red as a tomato with each stroke you did with your hands while your lips smothered his tip. Despite being on your knees and only touching the older man with your mouth, you could feel the amount of heat was radiating off his body. Which you knew he was only growing hot with each second when he was unbuttoning his shirt to toss it across his office.

He looked down at you with such a flustered look, it caused you to smirk as you were stroking him off trying to catch your breath. When he saw your smirk, he would return one right back at you But his was very more sinful. “Smart girls don’t use their hands. Stop using your hands.” He demanded.

As your hands that were covered in your own saliva dropped to your side, your eyes begin to water as you felt Professor Ackerman’s hips push forward. The pornographic gagging sound followed by more saliva coating his cock caused him to move even faster. Your tears begin to burn your eyes with each harsh thrust towards your face. Your saliva was dripping out your mouth like a dog and your tears were staining your cheeks testing out your waterproof makeup. Professor Ackerman’s right hand grasped at the back of your head before he’s pushing your head forward. His cock disappeared into your mouth bit by bit as you gagged aggressively. Your gagging sent vibrations around his cock causing Professor Ackerman to utter out a string of profanity words. The tip of your nose pressed against this happy trail with ease as your hand grasped at his toned thighs. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his thighs as he held your head down while his cock rested in the pit of your throat.

When he let go of your head, your head bounced back like a yo-yo. Your chest rose up and down as you were trying to catch your breath. A thick string of saliva connected from your pretty mouth to Professor Ackerman’s cock. Your hand wiped at your tears that were clouding your vision and you could feel your lace panties grow wet at the action that just happened. Professor Ackerman made you choke on his cock and you instantly grew soaked. Who would have thought?

“We’re not done yet doll,” Professor Ackerman uttered as he’s grabbing a hold of your head once more. Guiding you to suck once again, but this time he had both of his hands on the back of your head guiding your movements. “Such a pretty smart girl that can suck my cock so well.” He complimented.

“You look so stunning wrapped around me like this.” He praised through subtle grunts.

Your tongue swirled around his tip and that seemed to push the professor further off the edge.

“Keep doing that and I may cum right in that pretty mouth of yours.” He added.

As you kept sucking at his cock, your hand reached down to rub your wet folds through your panties. Professor Ackerman chuckled at your poor excuse of desperation. “Want me to touch you huh?”

With his cock in your mouth like a flavored popsicle, you would nod with enthusiasm. You needed him to touch you. You craved for his fingers to be the one rubbing at your puffy lips. But through your glossy wet eyes, you were met with Professor Ackerman’s cruel smile. He wasn’t going to give you what you wanted. Instead, you watched as he swooshed around his own spit in his mouth before letting the huge droplet of saliva travel down to his cock that still was in your mouth. His own spit landed on the shaft of his cock that wasn’t buried deep inside your mouth.

“Now use your hands if you want that extra credit (Y/N).” Professor Ackerman urged.

With eagerness, your hand clasped around his shaft and you begin to massage it at a rhythmic pace. Using his own saliva as lube while you sucked at his tip and massaged his shaft. Once in a while, your tongue dragged alongside the one vein that occupied the back of his cock before cupping at his ballsack.

“Fuck, that feels good.” He cursed. “I’m going to cum.”

As if that flipped a switch inside you, your mouth latched onto his ballsack while your hand massaged his shaft. Sucking fiercely enough to gain whimpers and groans from Professor Ackerman as his body began to shutter. You released yourself from his heavy balls with a pop before your went back to massaging his dick, your thumb pressing against his swollen tip once in a while.

“Please (Y/N)—”

“Please what Professor Ackerman,” You cooed while you kissed at his tip once again, your hands still gripping at his cock.

“The extra credit is all yours, just let me cum.” Levi urged as his hips bucked forward just to feel even more friction around his cock.

“I’m not stopping you from cumming Professor Ackerman.” You said as you pumped his cock in your hand. Imagining that perhaps your hand was your tight cunt wrapped around him.

Professor Ackerman uttered a word in German as thick ropes of his cum began to decorate your hand. Your hand slowed down at a steady pace with each pump of the creamy white substance decorated not only your hand but the blouse you were wearing.

Professor Ackerman plopped down on the large leather seat behind his desk as you climbed back off the ground. Your knees were bruised harshly, cum stained your blouse, and your throat still was grasping for recovery due to the way he pushed so aggressively towards you. You smooth down your skirt before picking up the folder filled with the extra credit worksheets. Smoothly letting them drop into your bag and going to make a quick exit. Frankly, you didn’t want to get caught by another student or even a faculty member. Your hand went to unlock the door, but you heard Professor Ackerman’s voice stop you.

“Are you stupid? Are you that much of a nuisance that you’ll go out like that?” Professor Ackerman said, he stood up shuffling to the small brown chest in the corner of his office. His nicely tailored dress pants hung loosely around his waist as went through it.

When he stood back up, he had a crewneck sweater shirt with the university name on it. However, this one was a bit different from the ones that were currently being sold in the bookstore. This was a vintage one, assuming it was from when Professor Ackerman graduated.

You tugged off your shirt with quickness and stuffed it into your bag and soon tugged on the sweatshirt. It lingered with that familiar cologne he wore. Eros by Versace.

“Please return both the work and my sweatshirt by the end of my office hours tomorrow.” Professor Ackerman bluntly said before he was cleaning up the mess the two of you had made.

“Yes, Professor Ackerman.” You respectfully responded before leaving his office.

The thing you just did for extra credit.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #anime smut #anime x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #aot x black reader #female reader #anime x black reader #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog · 22 days

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Happy Monday Everyone! So I have a new series for you that I will be dropping either one chapter a week or multiple chapters this week, I am still deciding.

This series came way of a message/ask from @hobby27 she asked:

"I would love something with Jensen and reader. He sees her when he’s at a convention and he’s bonkers for her. She isn’t so interested in a relationship with him because of the fame. So he has to woo her. Make her understand that he’s not a typical movie/tv star. Slow burn."

So I give you the Limelight series- It's a Jensen x reader (plus size, curvy girl) story, Jensen meets the reader in a bar, he falls fist, she is reluctant of course, but secretly she fell for him the second he walked through the door. So can a small town girl and a celebrity make it work?

Warnings for the whole series: language, multi-pov and switching between the pov mid chapters (sorry I can't help it), Jensen coming off aggressive for a hot second but then cooling off. Some douche side characters and some lovable ones, body shaming, angst, fluff, swoon, Jared is there and Micha is mention.

This story takes place an AU where Jensen is not married but Jared is and has kids.

This chapter is 2K+. Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work.

Thanks!

Chapter 1

You weren't sure what possessed you to come out tonight. The city is a small lakeside tourist trap in the height of summer. It's Friday night, so it's already going to be busy. Add the fact that the first-ever Supernatural convention is taking place in a town over, and there are rumors that some cast members might appear in small-town Haven. Has every woman, single or not, out looking to catch the eye of Jared Padalecki or Jensen Ackles.

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. That's not to say you didn't think both men weren't great actors. You're the first to put your 'Supernatural number one fan card' against anyone. You watched the show religiously, even re-watched it whenever you needed comfort or a break from the world. You had also fallen into reading and writing a few fanfics under a pen name.

You also weren't immune to their handsome good looks; both are sexy men in their own right. You lean more towards Jensen than Jared if you had to choose. Something about those hypnotic green eyes and the 'Dean voice.' God, that got you through some lonely nights, for sure.

So why aren't you going boy-crazy at the fact that your celebrity crush was just one city over, or for that matter, could be in the same bar as you right now? One, you are a realist: the likelihood of him coming out, or you actually seeing him, is slim, if not nonexistent. Second, the idea of celebrity life - living in the limelight, having all eyes on you, never getting a moment to yourself - no thank you. You will take being an anonymous nobody and being able to look and act however you want without ending up on the front page of the gossip rags.

Pushing your way through the crowd of the local dive bar, you survey the crowd to see the overabundance of female to men ratio. You finally squeeze past and grab the last open barstool at the corner, next to where the wait staff come to grab their orders. Saying hi to the waitress as she loads up her tray, you take a seat and wave over at the bartender.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." The bartender, James, gives you a smile and wink.

Stuffing the bar towel in his back pocket, he walks to you and tosses a cardboard coaster. "Didn't think you would be one of those desperate celebrity chasers." He jokes.

He places his hands on the bar and leans towards you. His lean, muscular frame is accented by his dark denim jeans and black button-down, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing off the nice tan he's been working on.

Shaking your head at him, "Now, James, I wouldn't knock your guest too loud; God knows you're not mad at the extra business…or the female clientele." You quip, picking up the coaster to fiddle with.

You survey the room and guess it's a two to five-ratio of guys to girls in the bar tonight. "Besides, I wanted a drink." Letting out a sigh, you try to convince yourself that's why.

Not buying it, but not having the heart to call you out on your bullshit this early in the night, James gives you a nod, "OK, sure, so the usual?" He asks as he grabs the tequila to make you a margarita.

"You know my weakness."

"That I do."

Later that night

You felt good and relaxed over an hour in and two margaritas down. The day's stress dissipates, and you're glad you came out. Besides chatting with James every time he had a few minutes, you also got to reconnect with some of the other bar staff you hadn't seen.

The crowd has started to thin out, with news that the cast members were staying in the city to party. Sightings of them all over at the more trendy bars had the sober guests heading out and the not-so-sober ones heading home. James let the last waitress clock out early, leaving only you and James. James made his way back over to you.

"So, you're still here. Thought you would have hightailed it to the city by now." He jokes, running a hand through his dark, short locks. His blue eyes locked with yours.

"I told you, I just came out for a drink, not to hunt down a celebrity. Besides, we never get to hang out anymore. Why is that?" you question, pushing your empty glass toward James in a not-so-subtle attempt to have him refill it.

He takes the hint. Grabbing the glass, he slightly laughs at this, "Come on, Y/N, we see each other. I mean, yeah, not as much anymore, what with me taking over this place and you working in the city more on your art. How is that going? Are you happy with your decision?" He asks, saying so much with those questions. He finishes up your drink and sets it down.

You were happy with your choice; it was for the best. Even if it meant you gave up half of the bar and steady income so you could pursue your passion. You're about to answer him when the sound of the front doors opens. Looking over, you can't believe your eyes when you see, fucking Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki walk through the doors.

You snap your head back after staring at them both for what seems like forever. Fuck, they both look even better in person.

"No fucking way!" James almost screams out. You look up at him to see he is nearly hyperventilating.

"OK, James, you got to calm down." You counsel, slightly put off by him freaking out when he, on multiple occasions, would tease you for liking the show. Watching him flap his hands and pull out the bar rag to wipe the sweat from his forehead as his cheeks red.

You had to call him on this. "Are you a fan?"

He looks over to you, sees the twinkling of mischief behind your eyes, and sighs, "OK, fine, yes." He quips back in defeat that his big secret is out.

"I watched the show, and so did you." He tries to defend himself.

"Yeah, and I was open about it. You were the one that made fun of me every time I talked about it. Bitch."

"Jerk." James quips back out of reflex, which gets you to point at him.

"Hey, can we get a pitcher of whatever the house draft is?" Deep and smooth, his voice hits you like a freight train, pulling James and you out of your impending tiff and back to reality. A reality where Jensen Ackles is standing ten feet away from you, on the other side of the bar, wanting to get a pitcher of beer.

He is standing there in well-fitted light-wash jeans and a faded blue T-shirt. Sunglasses hang off the v-neckline and a baseball cap tuck in his back pocket. Your eyes lock with his, and the rumors are true—they are green like a fairy princess.

You look away and see Jared sitting with two other guys at a table. They are not actors from the show; they must be friends or bodyguards.

"Umm…Yeah, man, coming right up. Just the one?" James stammers as he reaches the well to pull the pitcher.

"Umm…better make it two, Jared's a big guy and all." Jensen jokes. Pulling his eyes from you to the bartender.

"Umm…you got a kitchen back there?" He questions, trying to keep the small talk up so he can stay here for a few more minutes. There is something about you; he can't place it, but it's like he's drawn to you.

"Yeah, but our cook bailed on me tonight," James replies. Setting the pitchers on the bar. Scrabbling when he sees Jensen's slight disappointment in the lack of food.

"But I am sure Y/N wouldn't mind going back there and whipping up something." Turning his attention to you and giving you a shit-eating grin.

Your head snaps up to look over at James and Jensen. "What?" You question, wondering why he dragged you into this.

"Yeah, she's an excellent cook, chef really, she actually…"

"I am sure my cooking wouldn't match your sophisticated palate." Cutting off James before he can give Jensen your life story, giving him a stare down that conveys 'shut the fuck up.'

James has a habit of making your accomplishments sound grander than they were. He takes up the role of a proud parent, which you never ask him to do.

Y/N, hmm, beautiful name. Letting the name roll around in his head. Jensen takes this opportunity with your eyes, shooting daggers at the bartender to let his eyes take you all in. She is in light-wash jeans, tall black boots, and a leather jacket over a vintage concert t-shirt that hugs her curves in all the right places. She's giving off a 'don't fuck with me vibe,' but he can tell it's just a front.

"Darling, don't let celebrity status fool you. We're just a group of guys out for a few drinks and looking for good local food." Giving a smile to seal the deal.

His voice pulls her attention back to him, and he can see the front crumble away, her cheeks tinting pink.

"Jared there will eat just about anything you put before him." He says, thumbing back towards the guys.

You look over his shoulder to see Jared and the two other guys watching your interaction. Jared gives you a half smile.

"Jensen, stop harassing the girl already. I can't take this guy anywhere." He jokes and turns his attention back to his buddies.

Getting up from the barstool, you put some money on the bar, "I should be going, night James." Keep your voice low and as even as possible.

You can feel yourself becoming embarrassed by the seconds with all the attention on you. Unfortunately, you must walk past Jensen and his friends' table to get to the door. As you walk past the table, one of the anonymous guys pipes up.

"Seriously, I am starving. Why did we even come out this way? Dumb bitch, not like she doesn't know her way around a kitchen, just look at her." He spits out.

You know you should keep walking; it's not like you haven't heard your fair share of fat jokes and comments about you before. Especially from drunk, pretty boys. Something about this time, though. Maybe it's because it's in front of your celebrity crushes. After all, you have a few drinks in you as well. Whatever it is, you turn on your heels so you can face the douchebag.

"Oh, real original, ass. God, you must be the brains of the group." You spat back. Placing your hands on your hips to really show off your frame.

He doesn't say anything at first. He is your typical frat boy, with short blonde hair and brown eyes staring back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head. The other anonymous guy sitting next to him is a carbon copy of him, but he is looking across the booth to Jared for some kind of help.

"Dude, Evan, come on," Jared says, giving him a look of dismay that he just said those things. Turning his attention to you, "I am sorry…" He starts to apologize to him.

You hold up your hand to stop him. "It's fine, really." You reply, giving him a half smile. You're tired, and dragging this out any longer is not something you want to do tonight.

"Yeah, Jared, it's fine. A bitch like that, this is probably the most attention she has had from a guy in a long time." Evan jokes and playfully punches the guy next to him, wanting some backup on his 'stellar' dig at the local girl.

Turning away from them, shocked that he is still talking, you just want to escape. Your eyes lock with Jensen, but his attention is on the table. He's fuming and looks like he is about to punch Evan. He starts the short walk towards the table.

"What the fuck…" he yells.

Stepping in his path, he stops just inches from you when you put your hand on his chest. The feel of your hand on him, you standing right before him, snaps him back.

"Well, we wouldn't want you boys to starve now, would we?" You say sweetly. Your voice is low and even. Knowing that you need to diffuse this situation before a bar brawl breaks out and somehow the gossip rags hear about it.

The feel of his shirt under your fingers as you lightly tap his chest is soft. You would give anything to stay like this for a bit longer, taking in his smell of whiskey and leather. That's the one thing the fanfic girls and guys got right. Maybe they got other things right, too, your mind wonders.

You give Jensen a smile and turn to face the table. "Do you guys have any allergies I need to know about?" Your question, "Don't need to have anyone go into anaphylactic shock and have the media all up in my ass."

The two unknowns say nothing and seem interested in the countertop, then looking up at you. You don't blame them. Seeing the fury that Jensen was in, you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

Jared also looks pissed at them, glaring at them both before replying. "No, I think we're all good."

Giving a short nod, you turn back, seeing Jensen's eyes lock on you now. He has calmed down a bit, but he also looks slightly disappointed. You cock your head to the side.

"Hey, you OK?" You question, your voice low, only for him to hear.

He takes a second, giving you a nod. He clears his throat. "Yeah, umm…I am sorry…" he starts apologizing, but you stop him.

"It's fine, Jensen. If you haven't noticed, I am a big girl in multiple ways." You wink at him and pat his chest before side-stepping him and heading back towards the kitchen.

Back to the bar, you shuck off your jacket and toss it to James. "Good because, honestly, I don't care." You quip back to let them all know you could give a rat's ass what their dietary needs were.

This gets a laugh out of Jensen, pulling him back into a better head space. He can see more of her; the short-sleeved gray t-shirt contrasts sharply with her deep purple hair. Letting his eyes roam over her beautiful curves, god, he wishes he was the only one that came out tonight. She is feisty and can hold her own. Her voice is heaven, and he wants to listen to her talk all night.

"I'll have some food right out." Saying over your shoulder as you push open the kitchen doors.

To Be Continued.....

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autisticandroids · 30 days

Text

outsider pov

time is fake. these are some outsider pov fics for @spnficrecfest. there's a lot of conceptual overlap here with my casefic reclist, since i'm such an enthusiast for law enforcement chasing the boys. any crossovers do NOT require familiarity with the crossed over material. all of these are gen.

in order of wordcount:

identity theft solutions by ivyfic, 1k

a guy gets a letter in the mail from a bank he doesn't have an account with about a credit card he's never used.

the glomourous life of john dillinger by dwarfankylosaur, 1k

henriksen and his partner have a bet. extraordinarily charming.

not long enough by gayeld, 1k

salmondean tell victor about the supernatural. in particular, meg.

the outsider by denihil, 1k

henriksen has some sympathy for sam.

breathe on, sister (they pass me by remix), 1k

henriksen puzzles over sam and dean saving people from a fire. i would read the fic it's a remix of as well, if i were you.

days without feathers by pyrebi, 1k

jess's mom sees sam on tv.

the mysterious cold oak murders by anonymous, 2k

buzzfeed unsolved does an episode on the events of all hell breaks loose part 1.

perseverance by grumkinsnark, 2k

henriksen interviews a series of season one characters in search of the winchesters.

paper weight by vaznetti, 3k

kathleen hudak, from the benders, pokes into the winchester case at henriksen's behest.

the death defying mystery of the brothers winchester by dyed_red, 5k

buzzfeed unsolved again, this time on our boys.

the angel killer by vikki, 5k

cas is caught by the cops, circa season five.

the henricksen files by ante down, 9k

technically abandoned, but it's more a series of codas and character studies than a story, so it being abandoned doesn't really matter. so old it was written before henriksen's name spelling was canonized. this fic is a series of henriksen-centric codas, following him as he follows the winchesters over the course of season two. it has some of my favorite henriksen characterization, actually.

no way out iii by kelincihutan, 21k, violence warning

criminal minds crossover. real feds meet fake feds, and problems ensue.

minimal loss (what a joke) by eden22, 26k

criminal minds crossover. the feds go into a hunter compound. they meet some hunter children, including ten year old sam and fourteen year old dean. they try not to cause another waco.

this fic is one of the ones that i revisit when i want to be reminded that fanfiction can be good. it's THAT good.

the right to remain silent by boundlight, 27k, chose not to warn

svu crossover. tfw are caught by the cops in new york. i lied, this one is destiel.

nothing to see here by innie, 30k

a canon divergence starting from in my time of dying. kathleen hudak chases the winchesters. a number of other things also happen. john makes a different deal.

#spn #spnficrecfest

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 7 months

Text

In Case I Do Something Stupid

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV and Dean POV

Summary: Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree while maintaining a long distance relationship with Dean Winchester. This is part three of my "Before You Go" series (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Age Difference, (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's), Established Relationship

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: There is some swearing (only a few times), implied reference of past sex (once or twice), Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

This fic includes song lyrics that are in italics and bold font.

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

***************************************************

Reader POV

"Did you get it?" Dean asks.

You're standing in front of your mailbox in the lobby of your apartment, cradling the phone between your shoulder and neck while you sort through your mail. There were a lot more bills than you were hoping for.

It had been a long day and all you really wanted was to go lie down, but you had a test in the morning, which meant that you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

It had been two months since the whole “Cooper” thing and despite Dean’s insistence for you to come over to the bunker if he ever showed his face, Cooper hadn’t appeared once.

Of course that meant that Suze was out of the apartment more to spend time with him, wherever it was he lived. Neither of you had spoken about the incident, not since the morning after when Dean was asleep and you snuck out to make coffee before he woke up and you ran into her. You remember the dark circles under her eyes and the way her face was red and puffy from crying. You hadn’t known what to say so you nodded a “good morning” and walked back into your bedroom with coffee for you and Dean.

Dean was trying to convince you to move out, but the rent was so cheap you didn’t think you’d be able to find anything better. But with the summer approaching quickly, that meant you could spend more time at the bunker with Dean.

An elderly woman breezes through the main lobby of the apartment building, wearing a bright purple tracksuit. "Hi y/n."

"Hi Mrs. Travis." You respond, holding off from answering Dean.

"Where's your special friend?" She smiles widely at you.

The last time Dean had visited, Mrs. Travis asked him to come help her unclog her drain. You and Mrs. Travis sat at her kitchen table together watching Dean work under the sink while eating mass quantities of chocolate chip cookies. You'd been over to see her a few times since, and each time she told you that Dean reminded her of her husband and would ask when he was coming back.

"He's at home this week."

"What a shame. Tell him to come back anytime. I'll make some of those cookies for him again." She smiles before continuing on to the elevator.

"Who was that?"

"Your wife." You snort into the phone.

"Oh she's the best. Those cookies were so good." Dean moans. "Can you please bring some of those when you come this weekend?"

"I'll see what I can do." You sift through the mail in your hand. There's a collection of bills and a large green make-shift envelope that has been duct taped together with thick silver tape to cradle the contents.

"But did you get it?" Dean asks again.

"By it do you mean a creepy duct taped envelope? Because yes I did." You hold it by the corner turning it over to see Dean's untidy scrawl in black sharpie over the front of it.

This looks like a kindergartener made it. You imagine Dean sitting at his desk in the bunker with a pair of scissors, his tongue between his teeth in concentration and smile to yourself.

"Okay good." Dean sounds relieved.

"I could have just picked whatever this is up this weekend."

"You're telling me that you don't like getting mail?"

"I like getting mail, but this looks like a ransom note. Is someone holding you hostage? Because if that’s happening I don’t have any money and I'm sure you'll be fine." You smile, trying to find a way to open it, but the duct tape was thwarting you.

"No it’s not a ransom note." Dean pauses on the other side of the line. "Wait, you wouldn’t pay money for me?"

"I mean. Maybe?" You shrug as if he could see you, smiling wide at the envelope.

"That’s reassuring."

"Alright so you’re saying that if I was being held for ransom, you’d give them Baby for me?"

Dean doesn't answer. You can hear him mulling it over in his head, but you already know the answer to that question. You knew that Baby always comes first.

“That’s a long pause Dean.”

"I’m sure the connection is bad. Because I did answer-" Dean begins to say.

"How is the connection bad?" You interrupt, raising an eyebrow.

He tries again. "I’m driving through a tunnel?" It comes out like a question and you can’t help but laugh at his attempts to cover his mistake.

"I thought you said you were back at the bunker."

"Well, then the reception here sucks." He finishes and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You sigh to yourself. The last time you'd seen Dean was only a week ago, but it wasn't enough. Long distance was hard, but you felt that you both were giving it your all. Not to mention that this weekend you were coming to see him at the bunker, and it was a long weekend, which meant you both didn't have to rush.

"Uh-huh. Sure. If I get kidnapped I’m just gonna call Sam.”

"We are definitely off topic.” Dean sighs. “But you did get it?”

“Yes Dean I did. Whatever it is." You trace a finger over the silver taped edge. "Is this construction paper? Dean, you are a grown man, why do you have construction paper?”

“There’s a lot of old shit in this bunker.”

“For your birthday I’m getting you envelopes.”

"Sexy."

You roll your eyes, but finally break through the paper and pull out a bright yellow and black contraption. “You bought me a Walkman?”

Dean had previously bought you a cassette tape player that was on your desk in your apartment so you could listen to the mixtapes he made. Dean often made you mixtapes of his favorite songs, most of which you knew given you had almost the same taste in music, but each time you listened to one of his tapes it was like he was there in the room with you. It made the distance between you less when you missed him.

"Where did you even get a Walkman?" You ask.

"I told you there's a lot of old shit in this bunker." He laughs. "But this way you can listen to the mixtapes when you go to class or when you're at the library.” He says it nonchalant, but there's an edge to his voice that you don't understand.

I wonder if he's worried about something.

The thought makes you worry about him. Dean worried about a lot of things, but he usually kept it to himself. You figured it was because of his dad. You didn’t know too much about Dean’s father, only that he was dead and that he put a lot of responsibility and pressure on Dean’s shoulders when it came to Sam and the job he did, which forced Dean to be more guarded and unable to admit when he needed help. You of course, were very good at reading him and whenever Dean was worried, you made it a point to have him talk to you about it, even if you didn't have a suggestion. You wanted him to be comfortable letting his walls down. You needed him to know that you were there for him and that he didn’t need to carry the burden alone no matter how heavy it was.

You examine the Walkman, running your thumb against each black button that line along the top and against the smooth plastic edges. “That was very thoughtful. Thanks Dean.”

“You’re welcome.” He pauses. “I-uh- also included a new tape.”

“Oh cool. I can't wait to listen to it. I loved the last one." You pop out the cassette and look at the label.

Dean always came up with ridiculous names that made you laugh, names like "Psyched to See You Mix Vol 1," and "It's a Good Day to Call Dean."

This one was called "In Case I Do Something Stupid." "I love the name. Does it mean that this is just a pre-recorded blanket apology if you're not careful on a hunt-"

"No it's not."

"Uh-huh." You put the tape back into the Walkman.

“But for this one, when you listen to it, can you call me? I really want to know what you think.” Dean continues.

“If it’s another 8 minute drum solo of Moby Dick-“

“It's not and it hurts me that you didn’t like it. But promise that you’ll call after you listen to it.”

“It wasn't bad. And will there be a test?” You tease him, confused that he's so adamant about you calling him after you listen. Whenever Dean gave you a mixtape he was excited to know what you thought, but was usually more nonchalant about it.

"No." Dean laughs, but it doesn't sound right. "I just want to know what you think."

"Well I can bring it with me when I come this weekend and we can listen to it together-"

"NO!" Dean exclaims. "I mean-um- you should listen to it now and call me." He recovers stumbling over his words.

"Okay." You draw it out confused as to why he is acting so weird. "I will take detailed notes over all of the songs and tell you how much I loved them."

“Okay.” Dean pauses again. “Um y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I- I’m gonna be at the bunker for a few days researching so you can call me anytime-“ He says it quickly, not in the cool and collected way he usually spoke.

“Dean are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You sound a little weird."

"I'm sure it's just the connection." Dean pauses again. "I-"

"Dean?"

“I miss you.” He says it hesitantly, and for a second you think that he was going to say something else.

“I miss you too. I promise I’ve just got the one test and then I’ll be there this weekend.”

"Okay."

You could feel the three little words hovering on the tip of your tongue, the three little words you would have gladly told him five months ago when you first started officially dating. You knew that you were in love with Dean, had been in love with him from the moment your eyes locked with his, but the problem was that you'd never said it to anyone else. Of course you'd never felt about anyone the way you felt about him. He was kind, caring, sexy, protective, and just the right amount of batshit crazy that always kept you guessing.

I miss him so much.

Dean hadn’t said it either. But you understood that he was a little slow when it came to stuff like that and it wasn’t that you thought he didn’t love you. Dean said it plenty of other ways. Not to mention you figured he probably also hadn’t said it to anyone before and might be afraid to admit it aloud.

"I'll see you this weekend okay?" You sigh into the phone while wishing that Dean was there to hold you.

"Can't wait. Bye Sweetheart."

"Bye Dean."

****************************

Three days pass and you still haven’t listened to the tape. Honestly you forgot about it, too wrapped up in studying for the test and preparing a lab report that took twelve hours to finish, all the while your lab partner, Tim, was frantically proofreading over your shoulder so you could turn it in by the deadline.

It was Thursday night, one day from seeing Dean, and you were sitting in the library for your overnight shift. You reach into your backpack for your notebook, but when you pull it out, the headphones from the Walkman are tangled in the spiral of the notebook.

Oh no. You think to yourself. You couldn't believe that you forgot about the tape and you wonder if that's why Dean hadn't texted or called the past few days, because he was waiting for you to call him to tell him what you thought.

You carefully untangle the headphones from the notebook, before raising your head to look around the library. It was midnight, which meant that the only people in the library were you and the guy in the corner slumped over a stack of textbooks half asleep. His loud snores echoed through the empty room, something else that reminded you of Dean. He didn't believe that he snored, until you recorded it on your phone and played it back to him. But, you didn’t hate that he snored. Sometimes you hated how quiet it was in your bedroom when he wasn't there sleeping beside you, that was usually when you called him just to hear his voice through the phone and closed your eyes to imagine he was there.

Dean never cared what time it was when you called him, in fact, Dean liked it when you called him on your overnight shifts and when you were walking back to your apartment. He liked to make sure that nothing happened to you.

You didn't think that the sleeping man in the corner would need any help anytime soon, so you slip the headphones over your ears and hit play. But when the first song starts, you're confused.

The first song is one of your favorites, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In A Song," by Jim Croce. A singer that you liked to listen to when you winded down at the end of the day and also a singer that was not Dean's favorite. He often teased you about it. For Dean to include the song on the tape was unusual, but you figured that it was because he knew you loved it.

"Well I know it's kinda late,

I hope I didn't wake you,

But what I've gotta say can't wait,

I know you'd understand,

'Cause every time I tried to tell you,

The words just came out wrong,

So I'll have to say I love you in a song…"

You hum along to the music while tapping your foot along to the melody as you reach back into your bag to pull out your textbook and pencil case for your highlighters and note tabs.

The second song starts as you turn back to your textbook, finding the right chapter to begin studying. You had expected the next song to also be a Jim Croce song or another song that you liked given the name of the mixtape. You assumed that "In Case I Do Something Stupid" meant that the tape would be filled with songs you loved to make you feel better if Dean pissed you off, but the next song is not one you know. You can tell it's Kansas, one of Dean's favorite bands, and one that you didn't often listen to before you met him.

"…Stand beside me

I will never let you fall

Stand beside me

I'll come whenever you call…"

You smile to yourself at the lyrics, it makes you think about how dependable Dean is. How he's willing to drop anything and show up whenever you need him. The melancholy tone of the song makes you miss him even more.

The smell of coffee wafts from the 24/7 coffee shop in the lobby, drawing you up from your seat to answer the siren call. When you get back with a iced coffee, you place the headphones over your ears once more and hit play.

The next two songs you recognize, both Journey songs, "Open Arms" and "Faithfully." You’d heard "Open Arms" before, but you'd never taken the time to listen to the lyrics:

"So here I am

With open arms

Hoping you'll see

What your love means to me

Open Arms…"

When "Faithfully" follows, you can't help but feel a nagging sensation in the back of you mind when you listen to the lyrics of the soft ballad like you're missing something:

"…Lost without you

And being apart ain't

easy on this love affair…

Oh, girl, you stand by me

I'm forever yours

Faithfully…"

You highlight another definition in your textbook while chewing on the inside of your cheek. You did like Journey.

Maybe Dean just wanted to include songs that I liked after the whole 8-minute Moby Dick drum solo fiasco.

When the next song comes on you can tell that it's a Led Zeppelin song, given the familiar tone of the lead singer. You continue to listen, focusing on the chorus:

"Oh, all of my love, all of my love to you, now

All of my love, oh yes,

All of my love to you…"

You sit there for a second in the brief silence that follows the song, before you shrug. Dean always included a Led Zeppelin song in his mixtapes because he wanted to continue your education of music with one of his favorite bands.

The next song begins and you immediately know what it is, "Feel Like Makin' Love" by Bad Company. Dean had included the song in a previous mixtape, not to mention you had heard it before on a tape he played when the two of you were together in his room at the bunker. Your cheeks blush as you remember what you were doing when it played. He had plenty of mixtapes that were devoted to THAT particular subject.

But this time you really sit and listen to the words of the song, highlighter poised high over the page:

"Darling, I don't live without you

And your love…

Darling, if I live without you,

I live without love…"

It makes you think of Dean again. You sigh to yourself wishing that it was already time to go back to see him.

There are actually some nice lyrics in this song. You think making a note in the margins of the textbook perched on your knee. You look back up to survey the empty room. The only patron is still in the corner snoring away.

You sit back in your chair, textbook forgotten and pause the tape. You couldn't help but notice that all the songs had a particular theme and you couldn't understand why.

When you hit play the next two are Van Halen, one of your favorite bands, and you immediately recognize both songs. The quick pace of "So This is Love" washes over you, making your heartbeat spike with the beat of the drums.

"Yes, she knows she's mine

And ain't letting go

So this is love?

Ooh I need you love,

Baby, got to have your love…"

Your breath catches in your chest as "When It's Love" starts to play and the smooth sound of the piano tickles against your skin.

"When it's love

Ooh, when it's love

Hey it'll last forever

When it's love

You and I

We're going to feel this thing together…"

And before you can think about the words the next song follows, "Is This Love?" by Whitesnake.

"I feel my love for you growing stronger

Day by day

And I can't wait to see you again

So I can hold you in my arms

Is this love that I'm feeling?

Is this love or am I dreaming?

This must be love

'Cause it's really got a hold on me…"

The next song that follows is Styx, "Babe" and you had heard it on a previous playlist Styx tape that Dean loaned you when he found out that you'd never heard anything by the band before. But this time the song catches you off guard.

"'Cause I'll be lonely without you

And I'll need your love to see me through

But please believe me, my heart is in your hands

'Cause I'll be missing you

Babe, I love you…"

You sit there in the silence that follows "Babe," unable to stop the rapid beat of your heart recognizing the familiar theme with all of the other songs on the mixtape and unable to stop focusing on the words of the song. You take a sip of your iced coffee, tapping your highlighter against your textbook while trying to gather your thoughts. But you couldn't focus on anything on the page. Your thoughts turn to the funny name that Dean decided to call the mixtape.

It's just a coincidence. Dean made another mixtape with songs that he wanted to share with me-

And then the Jim Croce song, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In a Song," comes back on. And you understand. It was exactly what Dean was doing. He was saying "I love you" the only way he knew how.

You look at the label of the cassette again, running your thumb over the writing. You thought that the "In Case I Do Something Stupid" title Dean wrote, meant listen to the tape whenever he pissed you off for being careless on a hunt, but you realize the title referred to if Dean hurt you, if he broke your heart somehow along the way, the tape was a reminder and a confession of his love. A reminder that he wasn't going to give you up, and that he was going to fix it the best way he could.

*****************************************

Dean POV

He tapped his pen anxiously against the ancient text as he laid across his bed, glancing every few seconds at the dark phone on his left.

You still hadn’t called.

It’d been three days since you said you’d listen to the mixtape, three days of absolute agony. Dean sighed looking back at the text but he couldn’t focus on any of the words.

What if she listened to it and didn’t love me? What if that’s why she wasn’t calling? He thought to himself, frown deepening.

He’d thought about saying it to you a million times, almost said it on the phone three days ago, but he was afraid. Dean didn’t like admitting that, but it was true. His fear that you would reject his declaration of love kept him from whispering the three little words that he’d wanted to say from the moment you’d met and patched him up two years ago. He'd never said it before, but he'd never wanted to say it to anyone before he met you.

He glances back at his phone hopefully as the screen illuminates, but it's only a notification from his email. It was past six am, but every time Dean tried to go to sleep all he could think about was you, you and the fact that you hadn't called or texted. Dean taps the pen on the book again, as his heart continues to sink.

Why is this so hard? Why can’t I just say it to her? I should call and tell her right now- Dean picks up his phone, but then puts it down.

Because what if you had listened to the tape and this was your way of avoiding him. What if you’d never call him back and that was it? What if this was your way of saying that you didn't love him and you didn't know how to get around the awkwardness of calling to tell him that you didn't?

His heart seized in his chest to think that. His mind began to circle the drain again, thinking of all the things he said to you the night that you told him that you wanted him. He had been surprised of course. You were so different than him, so warm and full of life that it made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun whenever he was around you. He didn't realize that you'd wanted him as much as he wanted you, in fact, half the time Dean believed that he didn't deserve to be with someone like you, not after all the things he'd done.

Dean rolls over on his back to look up at the ceiling of his bedroom, tracing the cracks in the metal and the familiar patches of rust, hoping for sleep to give him some relief.

But he can't, all he can think about is you.

Dean remembers his younger years, his years of stringing women along and flirting with whatever caught his eye. But you made him better man and that's why he loved you. You knew him better than anyone else, saw his flaws, allowed him to be open and vulnerable for the first time. You didn't make him feel like less of a man when he expressed emotions and you allowed him to break. Dean couldn't wait to see you again, because when he was with you, he didn't feel the albatross hanging around his neck.

A loud, frantic knocking at his door stirs him from his thoughts.

"I'm not in the mood Sammy." Dean grumbles. He throws his muscular forearm over his eyes to shut out the light above and to staunch the flow of self-deprecating thoughts.

The knocking persists.

Dean sighs loudly, before standing from his bed and walking to the solid metal door, his hotdog pajama pants swishing against his ankles.

"I said I'm not-" Dean looks up where Sam's face usually would be, but sees nothing.

What?

Then he drops his gaze and he sees you. Your cheeks are flushed bright red, hair blown back away from your face in tangles, wearing Dean's favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug you so tight that it makes him have a hard time focusing. Your smile breaks something in his chest, spreading warmth and comfort through his body like a wildfire.

Dean can't remember the last time he felt comfort before he met you. When you were with him it felt like home, something that he was missing for so long in his life.

"Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing he-" He barely gets the words out before you throw yourself at him. Dean stumbles back with the force of your tackle as your lips find his, arms wrapping around the back of his neck to grip his bare shoulders and pull his face further down to yours.

Dean falls backward on the bed with you on top of him, the thick volume pressing into his back painfully, but he doesn't feel it all he's aware of is you. How your body feels on top of his, how your lips move together as one, and the soft sounds you make into his mouth when he deepens the kiss and drags his hands down to your hips.

You pull back out of breath, lips bright pink. "I listened to it. I'm so sorry it took me so long."

"You did?" Dean's hands are comfortably seated on top of your hips, squeezing just enough that he knows you're here, you're real, and he didn't fall asleep.

"Yeah, and I didn't want to say this on the phone." Your eyes are bright. "I love you too Dean."

Dean's heart skips a beat, an uncontrollable smile shining from his face with your confession. He can't remember a single solitary moment in which he'd felt so much love, comfort, and happiness surging beneath his skin.

"You do?" He didn't mean to ask it, but the little voice was back spreading doubt.

"Of course I do. It's impossible not to." You lean down to kiss him again, your fingertips flitting over his muscular torso in a way that makes pins and needles trace in their wake. "But I'd like to hear you say it." Your forehead presses against his, hair tickling his cheeks.

"I love you y/n." Dean whispers. He watches the way your blush swells over your cheeks, smile widening with his words. And all he wants is to make you smile like that for the rest of his life, to bask in your glow because you are the sun.

Dean secures his hand at the back of your head and draws you down to him, losing himself in the warmth of your love and the soft promise of what tomorrow would bring.

**********************************************

Thank You For Reading!

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gretavangroupie · 3 months

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 8)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader, Jake Kiszka, x OC

Word Count: 23.0k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Manipulation, Sexual Themes, Crying. Smut: Kissing, Fingering, Oral F!Recieving, Oral M!Receiving, Protected Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We made this one extra long for you as a thank you for your patience.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

HER POV

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Isla coos. “I have heard all about you.”

She what?

“About me?” you ask, a little taken aback.

She grins and shrugs, dropping your hand as she eyes you, “Oh you know, just things…Little snippets here and there. You’ve made quite a name for yourself in this little circle of ours.”

You look over to Jake who is looking at you with a pleading expression. He knows he’s been caught. You quickly turn your attention back to Isla and swallow down your nerve, “Any impression I’ve made has been unintentional.”

She lets out a laugh that borders on the edge of fake, “Oh of course it was, love. You strike me as just the type that stumbles into leaving a lasting impression.”

You give her a fake smile, pretending that her subtle jab didn’t affect you, “Maybe so. Really was so nice to meet you, but I have a few things I need to deal with before we leave,” you say, nodding to her and resettling your purse on your shoulder.

Her fake smile never falters, “Ah, yes. Duty calls I suppose.” She turns to glance at Jake who is standing frozen next to her, refusing to pay her any mind. Her jaw hardens as you walk away, noticing that Jake’s eyes seem to be fixated on you instead of her.

You make your way over to Murph, pulling your suitcase behind you, hoping no one can see the steam pouring from your ears. As you step up next to him, he cuts his conversation with Dean short, turning to look at you.

“Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” he asks, looking over your shoulder towards the group you just left.

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” you lie, taking a deep breath.

His brow furrows as he studies your face, squeezing your bicep in a reassuring gesture. You can tell that he knows you’re lying, but he knows better than to press for more.

Thankfully the transport vans arrive outside, and the dizzying situation at hand seems to fade away in the chaos of getting to the airport. You were thankful to be in the crew van, as far away as possible from Jake and Isla. You spent most of the ride combing through your email and catching up on texts you’d ignored the past few days, and before you knew it you had arrived at Departures.

As you made your way through security you noticed Jake’s eyes on you. You noticed again at the coffee stand. Then again as you tried to read your book at your boarding gate. You refused to look his way, but you could feel his eyes on you. You knew he wanted to talk, but you wanted to hear nothing that he had to say. You wonder why he is so focused on you when Isla is sitting next to him. Shouldn’t he be more concerned with her? You continue to ignore him, pretending to read the words on the pages in front of you, and letting your mind race with thoughts of Murph. Murph who just so happened to be peeking up at you over the edge of his phone. A smile graced your lips for the first time today as you saw him raise his brows, a silent ‘hello’.

By stroke of luck you found yourself seated in the row with Josh and Ty, both of them offering you the window seat instead of the aisle. A wave of relief washes over you as you chat with Ty, everything about him making you feel at home. You laugh at almost everything he says, and you can see why Josh loves him so much. As you lean forward to grab your phone from your bag you notice Murph sitting across the aisle, his leg crossed over his knee as he scrolls through his phone, looking up just in time to catch you staring. He sends you a playful wink as you sit back and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“So,” Ty says, raising a brow. You know what he wants to talk about, the two of you have been dancing around the subject for the last hour.

“So…” you continue, pretending to be unaffected.

He turns to look over his shoulder just slightly, noticing Jake and Isla seated directly behind you. “So, lovely weather we got this morning…”

“Mmhmm…” you hum, tossing your hair over your shoulder. You grab your phone and pull up Ty’s contact, quickly typing into the box.

You

10:06AM: I feel like this is safer

10:06AM: It is, I know she is totally listening to every word we are saying

You

10:07AM: I had no idea

10:07AM: None of us did

10:08AM: Actually, I bet the bitches did

You

10:08AM: The bitches?! I thought we liked them?

10:09AM: We do, away from her. With her… Nightmare.

10:10AM: They totally planned this. Did you see them snickering when you walked up?

You

10:10AM: Yeah, sort of, I was a little caught off guard and didn’t know who to look at first lol

You can hear a shrill laugh from behind you, causing your skin to crawl as Ty shoots you an annoyed look. At this point she has thrown every compliment in the book at Jake, and you’ve heard nothing but one word mumbles come from him.

10:11AM: Gag me, she is so fake

You

10:12AM: She really doesn’t strike me as Jake’s type.

10:12AM: She’s not

You

10:13AM: How do you know?

10:14AM: Honey, I’m dating his twin

You

10:14AM: Fair point lol

“Hey, I have to pee, can I get out?” you ask, finally speaking again.

“Sure, sure,” Josh says, letting you slide out of the seat and into the aisle, making your way to the lavatory at the back of the plane.

As you lock yourself into the tiny box you let out a sigh, quickly relieving yourself and washing your hands as you look at your appearance in the tiny bathroom mirror. You fix your hair a bit and straighten your shirt before unlocking the door to make your way back to your seat. However, when you open it, you’re face to face with Jake.

You meet his eyes, quickly snapping them away.

“Y/N, please, just two seconds,” he pleads, pulling his hands from his pockets.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you begrudgingly look at him, watching his face soften as you meet his eyes.

“I didn’t know. You have to believe me,” he begs, stepping a little closer.

You shake your head, not believing it for a second, “I don’t know, Jake.”

“Please, I swear,” he adds, his hand coming up to graze your arm. You pull away quickly in rejection, watching his hand fall back to his side.

“Can we talk later? Please, just give me ten minutes,” he asks.

You shake your head, “I think you’re going to be occupied later, Jake.”

You push past him and make your way back to your seat, refusing to cave to the voice in your head that is telling you to look over your shoulder. You hate this. You hate that you want to believe him, and you hate that after everything he told you last night, she showed up this morning.

You slide back into your seat with a huff, hearing Isla chatting with Mia next to her and rolling your eyes.

“You good, babe?” Ty asks, turning to look at you.

You give him a fake smile, “Oh, never better!”

You pull your book from your bag and open it with a sigh. A few minutes later you hear Jake returning to his seat and the grating sound of Isla’s voice as she speaks.

“What took you so long?”

—

JAKE POV

Your lips are pressed tightly together as you settle back into your seat, Isla’s words chipping away at you.

“What took me so long?” you repeat, clearly annoyed, “There was someone else in there Isla, I had to wait.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the first class bathroom?” she asks, cutting her eyes at you.

You just shake your head at her knowing you aren’t even going to answer. Sure, you could have gone to the first class bathroom, but you saw your chance and you knew you had to take it. You didn’t know if or when you’d get Y/N alone for two seconds without Isla around.

Those two seconds, however, proved to be useless. She refused to hear you out and after Isla’s little display in the hotel lobby earlier, you didn’t blame her. It was the perfect storm, really.

You’d talked last night. You told her everything. The truth. You felt content sliding into your bed last night, hopeful for what the next coming days would bring with Y/N. It was as you grabbed for your phone to check the playlist that you heard the knock on your door. You hoped it was her, desperate to be with you as much as you wanted to be with her, but when you opened the door it was the last person you expected to see.

It took all of two seconds for your heart to ice over again, just the sight of Isla, causing your body to fill with anxiety and dread. Why was she here? How did she get here?

Her voice was overly sweet as she pushed her way into your room, greeting you with that stupid nickname she tried to force on you. Zero explanation was offered as you let the door swing closed behind her. She made quick work occupying your space and throwing herself down onto your bed. Your eyes flashed over to your phone on the nightstand, hoping she would pay no mind to it as it sat open on your messages.

“What–what are you doing here Isla?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What do you mean?” she asks, sitting up on her elbows.

“What do I mea– Isla! We are on a break!” you answer, raising your voice just a touch. “You are not supposed to be here!”

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah, but did you really think I was going to miss our anniversary?”

“Anniversary of what? We are done Isla, I told you I am done.”

“You always say that,” she scoffs.

“Yeah, because it’s true! What aren’t you getting?” you growl, “Just how long are you planning on being here? I’m working Isla, this isn’t fucking playtime,” you snap. “We are leaving first thing tomorrow to catch a flight to Manchester”

“I don’t see what the big deal is Jakey, I’m just staying in your room. Mia and Lyla helped me figure out all the flights and everything. I have a ticket for tomorrow. I thought you would be happy to see me.”

You rub your hand over your face, doing your very best not to explode, “Isla, no. No. This is not okay. You know this is not okay.”

“You’re overreacting, everything is fine. I’m only gonna be here for like a week. Think about all the trouble we can get into for a week.” she grins, trying her best to tempt you.

“No. No, I’m not thinking anything like that. I’m thinking that I was going to bed and you just woke me up. I’m thinking that you shouldn’t be here, and you know it.” you seethe.

And she did know it. She knew it as you slid back into the bed without another word. She knew it when she woke the next morning to your alarm blaring, and she knew it when you refused to look at her as you packed your suitcase and headed downstairs. Her disgusting display of possessive jealousy in the lobby left you dumbfounded. All you could do was stare at Y/N, praying her mind wasn’t jumping to the worst, though you could tell by the look on her face that it already had. You knew that every single thing you told her last night, every painful truth, was now all a lie in her mind.

So now, as you sit here in the seat behind her on this airplane, with your borderline psychotic ex-girlfriend nit picking your every move, you wonder how you will fix this. Or if there even is a way to fix it, now.

The flight landed shortly after your mental spiral, and thankfully you were being bussed straight to the venue for a soundcheck. The girls and staff were ushered to the hotel, dropping your belongings off before heading to the venue. You were happy to have a few minutes alone without Isla. You wished you could just send her home. Maybe you would. But could you?

The four of you were in the van on the way to the venue, going over the setlist and a few notes from the night prior, laughing and joking as the city passed through the van windows. That’s when it hit you.

You snapped your head to Sam and Daniel, cutting your eyes at them in realization. “You know, your fucking girlfriends did this.”

“Huh?” Danny answers, focusing on you. “Mia?”

“Yeah, fucking Mia and Lyla. They conspired to fly Isla out here for an entire fucking week. Got her tickets and shit. Unbelievable.”

“You didn’t know?” Sam asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Obviously not, Samuel.” you snap. “I don’t fucking want her here. I don’t want her at all! She just does not seem to get that. She is ruining everything.”

The van goes silent, everyone ducking their heads in an effort not to look at you, an awkwardness filling the air in the van as you pull up at the back entrance of the venue. As the four of you make your way inside, you know it is only a matter of time before you see Y/N, rushing through the halls with bags of food and drinks. You want to tell her everything, if you could just explain you think she would understand. But you know how it looks from the outside and you probably wouldn’t want to hear you out either.

You would talk to her tonight. You had to.

—

HER POV

Paul

9:06AM: Rider for the day is in your email! Should be an easy store trip! Thanks

You shove your phone back in your pocket as you step out of the security meeting, wondering why Paul couldn’t have just said that face to face five minutes ago. Alas, you know he has three hundred things on his mind, so him thinking of you at all is a feat. You open your email and find today’s rider, reading off the same old same old items as your eyes scan down the page. Flashbacks of yesterday morning keep littering your brain, but you decide to force them back, burying yourself in your work like you always do.

Isla’s face when she realized who you were… Jake’s expression as he watched the interaction… the feeling of tension so thick you could cut it with a knife as everyone else stood so still you’d think you were statues in a museum. It all felt horrible. It all felt so embarrassing. But, none of it is your fault. You didn’t see this coming.

Though you’d tried to downplay all of the emotion boiling up inside of you for the past couple of days, you set it aside, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before it all comes boiling up, waiting to spit and spatter its way out of you in what would most likely be a very ugly scene.

You didn’t need to order an Uber for the ride home from the store; the proximity was actually fairly close to the venue, and you were able to sneak around the corner and to the market without the need for security. As you push your cart-wagon back down the sidewalk and begin separating the food items into the outside storage container, your mind drifts to the one thing that feels like reprieve right now– Murph. You think about him catching you looking at him on the plane this morning, and how warm your entire body felt as you watched him wink at you. And the fact that tomorrow you’ll be spending the entire evening with him, watching one of your most favorite bands perform by his side.

Does it feel wrong to think of things this way? Using Murph as an excuse to not think of Jake and Isla? Sure, maybe a little. But you never devoted yourself to Jake. And he never set things in stone with you. And for him to explain things to your face so honestly for it all to blow up in your face… ugh. And you really believed him, too. Now the taste in your mouth is dirty and sour, and everything feels so disgustingly wrong. Vengeful. Deceitful as you “use” one man to take your mind off another. But also, who the hell cares? You have nothing to lose, and apparently fucking everything to gain. So hanging out with someone who values your company and actually wants to start things off honestly… why not? Murph makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. He makes you feel safe. And being around him feels like a breath of fresh morning air instead of one that hardly fills your lungs.

The rest of the day flies by as you are dying to get a free second to call Ruth, knowing that her matter-of-fact outlook on life will help you to feel less shitty about your decisions. You’d managed to fly under the radar most of the day, only saying necessary words to your co-workers, and having very little run-ins with any of the guys. Thankfully Paul had sent you on a few more errands throughout the afternoon, of which you accepted gracefully if they let your mind think about anything else other than the auburn-haired tramp holding Jake’s hand.

The craft table is set and ready for grazing, and the fridge and coolers are stocked to the brim with everything the band and crew could need, and you finally get a second to breathe as you listen to the crowd outside cheer for the second opener. Just as you’re stuffing a container of Oreos into a mesh sack, you feel the presence of someone joining you in the small room.

“Hey there mama.”

You perk up, the familiar voice startling you. “Oh, hey Josh. What’s up?” you ask blankly, upset that the time had come that you could no longer avoid any of them.

“Not much, they’re all getting in their zones in there, not much I can do besides sip on this…” he holds up his paper cup of steaming hot tea, giving you a cordial smile as you pretend to keep your hands busy. “You uh, you okay?” he asks, and you wish he would just… go away.

You huff an exhale, throwing one hand on your hip and the other up to scratch the back of your head. “Uh, no. Not really,” you laugh awkwardly. “But, here we are…”

“Listen Y/N,” he goes on, “I’m really really sorr–”

“Josh, don’t. Please just, don’t. I’m already mortified beyond belief, the last thing I need right now is pity, ok?” Your tone is clipped, but it has a right to be.

He nods as he swallows, tapping his pointer finger against his cup. “I get it. Just uh, just want you to know I’m on your team on this one, I really, we really had no idea they were scheming this up,” he explains, his sincerity heavy. “You know how we all feel about Isla.”

You nod in return, biting your jaw sideways as you feel so displaced in the conversation right now. “Honestly Josh, I feel very much like this is none of my business, anymore, so… if you don’t mind…” you quickly check your watch as you blindly make up some excuse to get him out the door.

“It is your business, Y/N. He’s just… Please, just don’t throw him away,” Josh begs, and you hear a commotion on your radio.

“That’s not my decision to make, Josh,” you say as you both hear the radio chime with a ten minute warning. Josh hisses through his teeth as he takes one more long sip of his tea, and tosses the cup into the trash.

“See you out there, huh?” he says as he opens the heavy door to the hallway.

“I’ll have you a fresh tea in a few,” you assure him, casting him an awkward smile.

As the sound of the crowd roars outside, you know that it is time to get the guys their respective stage drinks prepared, and to go and meet them at the stairs. You get everything ready, leaving Jake’s drink the last piece to your puzzle. You’d completely ignored getting him a drink at all at the last show, one last slap in the face as you made your stance. But tonight, you decide to resume your duties, knowing that if you’re going to do anything right at all, it's going to be your job.

You slide over to the corner of the green room, squatting down in the floor to fish for the bag you know he’s hidden. Your hands grip on the black canvas material as you drag it out, a strange feeling of weird nostalgia bubbling up in your stomach. You pull up the heavy bag to rest on the arm of the couch before unzipping it slowly, seeing all his normal items inside. All the items that just a few short days ago, you cherished seeing. The little parts of him that felt so real.

Your hand floats past his change of clothes, his sunglasses, his book, straight to the bottom to grasp onto the neck of the bottle of wine you knew you would find. Just as you bring it out of the bag, the green room door flies open, revealing the overwhelmingly loud aura of Isla.

Her eyes cut directly your way, catching you in the last act you’d want anyone to see today. The eye contact is quick as you hear her scoff at seeing you.

“Uh excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” she asks, her tone biting. She makes quick haste of walking directly over to you, ripping the bag from your hands as the bottom of the wine bottle catches on the zipper, knocking it free from your hand with force. The bottle hits the tile floor, breaking the glass and shattering it into a hundred pieces as the wine splashes all over your feet and the couch.

You gasp hard, catching the bag in mid-air before it hits the floor and soaks everything inside it. “Oh my god, look what the fuck you did!” Isla shouts, her hands covering her mouth. “Why are you rustling around in my boyfriend’s bag?! That’s not yours!” she shouts.

Oh here we fucking go.

You roll your eyes, keeping surprisingly calm as you place his bag back down on the couch. “Just doing my job, Isla. I get them their stage drinks before every show. He gave me permission to get his wine from his bag. Now look what you’ve done,” you spit, moving over to get a broom and paper towels. The rage is beginning to boil up in your belly as you drag the trash can over to clean up the mess, Isla making no moves whatsoever to try and help.

Isla crosses her arms as she zips Jake’s bag back up, mumbling under her breath. The only words you catch are “inappropriate’ and ‘ridiculous’. You roll your eyes again as you finish cleaning up the tiny shards of glass, feeling upset that you wasted an entire bottle of what looked to be an expensive vintage.

As you dry up the remaining liquid from the floor, you realize that Isla hasn’t left, she’s just standing there, watching you clean. ‘Why isn’t she fucking leaving?’ you ask yourself, feeling overwhelmingly out of place. You shake the feeling, deciding to go ahead and finish making the drinks, knowing the time for them to go on stage is drawing closer and closer. You decide to make Jake the same thing you make Danny, realizing that it will have to do. Isla watches you wordlessly as you pop open the drink mixers, perfectly pouring them into his metal chalice cup.

“Can I help you with something?” you burst, feeling so awkward that you could actually scream.

She purses her lips as she picks up a cookie from the table, taking a tiny bite to keep her mouth from saying what she really wants to say. You hear the overture music begin to play in the distance, and you know you have to hurry. You stick your finger into Jake’s icy drink, swirling it around a few times before looking at Isla one last time, popping your finger into your mouth and sucking off the tequila with a smile. You pick up all four drinks and head for the door, letting it slam hard behind you.

You can feel Isla’s presence on your heels as you hurriedly pace down the dark hallway, passing rushing crew members and staff as you hold the drinks steadily in your hands, careful not to spill a drop. You make it just in time as you hand off the Topo Chico, the tea, and the tequila cocktail, saving Jake’s chalice for dead last. Just as his tech helps him place his strap over his head, the room suddenly erupts with loud cheers, the lights beginning to flash wildly. Jake takes the drink from you, glancing into it and quickly realizing it isn’t his wine of the day. He gulps as he makes eye contact with you, looking as though he wants to say a million things, but as his lips part to speak, nothing comes out. Instead, you decide to lean into him, yelling in his ear above the loud noise.

“Hope this drink doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth. I didn’t have a fucking choice,” you bark, stepping back to glare at him. Again, he’s speechless, but the look on his face is questioning. As you move your eyes to look at the woman standing beside you, she pushes you to the side, forcing you to step sideways as she grabs Jake’s face in both of her hands, his hands both too full to push her away. She catches him off guard, planting a quick and forceful kiss to his lips right there in front of you. You scoff as he backs away, using his body weight to separate himself.

He doesn’t even say anything as he finishes ascending the stairs, placing his drink down as he joins his brothers in their places behind the curtain. What a fucking bitch, you think as you watch her try and block your view of them, unsuccessfully. You watch as he cuts his eyes at her, shaking his head in the most unapproving way. His eyes are slit and his jaw is clenched, his knuckles white as he grips the neck of his guitar. Fuck, he is mad.

With only a few seconds to spare, you watch as Jake rushes back over to his amp, grabbing up his drink and tilting it back, chugging what had to be half of it before cutting his eyes at her again, rushing back over to his place next to Danny.

Isla crosses her arms as she backs up to stand beside you, a devilish smirk crossing her lips as she never lets her eyes leave him. “What did you make him, anyway?” she asks.

You bite your lips in before you give her a one word answer, “Tequila.”

“Ahaaa,” Isla laughs as she tilts her head back. “I should thank you, then. That means I am definitely in for it tonight, if you know what I mean.” She smiles hard as the curtain drops to the stage floor, but your heart falls ten times harder. If all that Jake and his brothers said is true, then who the fuck does this bitch think she is?

You’re about to let it all fly before you look her way, realizing that she’s already making her way toward Mia and Lyla in the corner, snickering when the three of them finally join up. Their eyes drift quickly to each other and to you, and you feel like you’re in middle school again. Three grown women whispering into each other’s ears as if you’re being bullied on the playground at recess, making themselves look like absolute fools. How could Danny and Sam not realize…?

Whatever. It’s none of your business anymore, right? You’ve got a job to do, and a really hot date to dream about.

You dash back to the green room to replenish anything that needs it, and you find that you’re interrupting someone.

“Oh fuck, Ty, you scared me,” you laugh, clutching your chest as you watch him chew furiously. “What are you doing?”

“Shit,” he laughs through a full mouth. “Sorry, I’m so motherfucking hungry right now… Please don’t tell anyone it was me tearing up this charcuterie board.”

You let out a full belly laugh, Ty’s presence instantly calming you.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks as he swallows. “Why does it smell like straight Chardonnay in here?” Ty doesn’t even let you answer as he grabs a whole box of crackers and pulls your hand to follow him to the couch, but not before locking the door. “There, now we can talk just us again. You look flushed, babe, what’s up?”

You grunt as you pull a few crackers from the box, stuffing them in your mouth. “Ugh. Isla caught me getting Jake’s wine from his bag, she got pissed I guess and she made me drop the bottle on the floor, it shattered,” you say through a full mouth. “So I made him a really fucking strong tequila drink, instead.”

Ty throws his head back and laughs. “Good! That bitch deserves to drink tequila tonight.”

You swallow, giving Ty a sincere look. “Does he, though? I mean, he did tell me the truth… week too fucking late, but…”

“Yeah I mean, I guess, but he could have banished her and sent her on her merry way back to Nash,” Ty says.

“But he didn’t…” you say softly.

“But he didn’t.”

“Is his heart too big?” you ask, truly wondering.

Ty shrugs, clearing crackers from his teeth. “I dunno, maybe. No matter what he does, he’s the asshole.” You nod, feeling very conflicted in the matter. “Ugh,” Ty complains, “I tried to fix this and it just got fucking worse..” he smacks himself on the face.

“Shh, Ty, it’s okay,” you say, pulling his head back up. “I–I don’t really care, anymore. Besides, I’m going to see the Keys with Murph tomorrow.”

He perks right up. “MURPH?! Oh my god, how is that going?”

“It’s good, it’s fine… nothing serious, but–”

“But you wanna sleep with him, right? He’s hot, I wouldn’t blame you. Oh my god, have you already?! Y/N–”

“Ty! Ty! Jesus, no, I haven’t, calm down…” you laugh, grabbing his shoulders as it hits you why you love Ty so much. He reminds you so much of Ruth that it hurts.

He takes your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “Listen babe, I’m Team You, and I’m really excited for you… but…”

“That’s exactly what Josh said,” you laugh.

He scoffs. “I just want a cool sister in law, that’s all okay?”

“Sister in law?! Are you insane Ty?” you crow, pushing his shoulder as you both fall into laughter.

It calms down for a second while you both listen to the music bellowing through the walls. “So you really like Murph?” he asks, snarling his nose.

You pause for a second, contemplating an answer that won’t embarrass you too much. “I do… if not for anything ya know, like that, just as someone I can hang out with. He’s nice to me, understands me. He bought me Black Keys tickets, Ty! Like how thoughtful is that? Finally some time just me and him, no chance of running into anyone or having to talk to Jake at all…”

All the happiness falls from Ty’s face. “Black Keys tickets? For like, tomorrow?”

“Yeah, why? He’s taking me on a date…”

“Babes, we’re all going to that show tomorrow,” he says, stretching his lips over his teeth.

Oh fuck.

“Like, everybody?” you ask, hopeful that he will say just him and Josh.

“Yeah. Like, everybody.”

—

“If you want to dump that ice outside, I will throw these last few drinks into the cooler,” Paul says, motioning towards the table.

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, knowing it would be minutes until the guys came bounding into the greenroom for their post show drink. You grab the bucket and walk through the bustling hallways, tossing the ice into the bathroom sink to melt. As you make your way back to the green room you find that it is now occupied with the four sweaty men.

Your eyes immediately catch Jake’s who looks like he is on the tail end of a nasty little spat with Isla. Honestly, you would rather see that than them loving on each other. At least the palpable hostility in the room corroborates the things he told you last night. You wanted to believe him. You really did, but seeing Isla holding his hand this morning really had you second guessing everything.

“That everything?” Paul asks, snapping your attention away.

“Oh, um yes. I think so. Should be all set for tomorrow,” you answer with a nod.

“Good work, Y/N. Enjoy your evening,” he says, patting your shoulder and exiting the room.

You lean awkwardly on the table as you try to keep to yourself. Josh speaks up, grabbing everyone's attention.

“What are we thinking? We want to go out tonight?” he asks, looking at each of you. No one jumps at the idea, still very unsure of the dynamic of the group now that Isla had joined.

“No, Danny and I are gonna go back to the room,” she grins, turning to look at Isla. You immediately realize that the two of them have again conspired to run the show tonight.

“I could use a drink,” Jake says.

“Noooo, baby, I’m tired, let’s go back to the room,” Isla interjects, pulling on his arm. Its very obvious to you that she is going to do everything in her power to get him alone and all to herself.

“I’m in as long as they have Tequila,” Jake adds, clearly ignoring her pleads.

“Jake no, lets just stay in. I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she whines.

“Yeah, because I didn’t invite you here, Isla! Do you need me to lay out the definition of a break again?” he says, slinging her arm off of his with a mumbled curse.

Isla storms out of the room, brushing past you in a huff. You raise your eyebrows as you look at Ty, who is doing his best to stifle down a laugh.

With everyone's eyes on Jake he shakes his head and rushes out the door after her. Josh is not too far behind him, ready to play referee.

“Well, that’s my cue to grab the van!” Sam shouts, trying to break the awkward tension. You bite your lips together, trying not to laugh at how awkward everything is. Sam and Lyla quickly exit the green room with Mia and Danny at their side. Just you and Ty remain in the room, both of you busting out in laughter as the door slams shut.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, gasping for air. “That was good.”

“This is all so awkward, Ty. I can’t do this,” you groan.

“No, it’s just getting good,” he says, standing up to walk over to you. “You got your stuff? You ready to go?”

You look around the room, spotting Jake’s backpack still laying on the floor and you wonder if you should grab it. Seconds later, Isla is rushing through the door, snatching her purse from the couch and grabbing Jake’s bag from the floor.

She tosses the black backpack over her shoulder, cutting her eyes at you and Ty, “Oh, and just by the way, I would replace that bottle of wine if I were you. He’s going to be mad when he finds out you broke it.”

You recoil at her audacity, turning to look at Ty who is just as shocked as you are. She storms out the door before you can respond and you shake your head, fully understanding why Jake is desperate to be done with her in the first place.

—

The ride back to the hotel was pin drop silent. No one daring to utter a single syllable. Jake refused to sit by Isla, instead opting to sit with Ty and Josh, leaving you with Daniel and Mia. You all file out of the van in a hurry, making your way to the elevators and to your respective rooms without another word. You watched as Jake stepped out of the elevator with Isla, turning over his shoulder to meet your eyes for a matter of a second before the doors closed again.

Your blood was boiling after your encounter with Isla, the rage rippling through your body like a freight train. You knew there was only one way to get it out, so as you stepped into your room you stripped out of your work clothes and threw on some workout clothes, quickly making your way back downstairs to the hotel gym.

A run would help. A run always helps.

As you step inside you find it empty, but that isn’t a huge shock since it is nearly midnight. You turn the lights on and make your way to the treadmill, putting in your airpods and turning on a metal playlist. Your legs start to move, starting a slow jog. You work your way up to a sprint, letting the music in your ears push you to run faster.

You run your aggression out, every step causing you to feel lighter and lighter. Just as you hit the down arrow to slow down the track you hear a ding in your ear as Siri alerts you of a new text from Ruth.

Ruth

12:14AM: Hello? Updates? I can’t sleep

You slow to a walk, deciding there is really no better time to update her on the situation. You decide to send her voice memos instead of calling her, needing to get your rambling out uninterrupted.

Your heart is pounding with adrenaline as you recount every detail of the last twenty four hours in what has to be ten voice memos. You can feel the sweat dripping down the side of your neck as your body tries to cool itself down.

You hit the record button again, giving one last quip before leaving her to listen, “And one more thing. If that nasty little stuck up bitch says one more thing to me about her boyfriend I think I might kill them both. She is the reason the wine bottle shattered in the first place. I was just doing my damn job. Of course he marched right upstairs with her tonight, didn’t even try to say anything to me the entire night. So much for ‘give me ten minutes’ or whatever the hell he said. Okay, end rant,” you say, hitting the button and watching it deliver.

You huff as you slow the treadmill to a stop, stepping off and grabbing a towel to wipe your face. As you turn around you pull your Airpods out, and see Jake, leaning against the door with a solemn look on his face.

“Holy fuck, Jake!” you say, grabbing at your chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He holds his hands up, “Sorry, I just got in here. Had the same idea as you, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you seethe, snapping your Airpods into the case. You grab for your bag, trying to make it out of the gym as quickly as possible but of course, he stops you.

“Y/N, please,” he begs, lifting a hand towards you.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with your girlfriend?” you bark.

He shakes his head gently, “No, I told her I needed a minute and I wanted to be alone. And stop with the girlfriend thing, I told you she isn’t.”

You recoil back, “Really? Could have fooled me.”

“I heard what you said to Ruth.”

“You what!?” you shout, “You were listening to me?!”

“I mean, the last part, yeah. I didn’t hear everything, but you are right. You should be mad at me. I deserve it,” he says, nodding his head.

Your blood is boiling beneath your skin, “That was private, Jake. You should have stepped out. I thought I was alone.”

“I know, I just– I’m sorry. I just needed to hear you say it. Now I have,” he pauses. “I’d really like it if you’d let me explain everything. I can explain all of it, I swear.

“It’s self explanatory, Jake. You lied to me. You said all that shit only for her to turn up this morning.”

“But I didn’t lie. Everything was true, Y/N. It was Mia an-and Lyla, they did this. Planned all of it. I had no idea. She just showed up at my door last night after we talked. I had no clue, you have to believe me.”

You do believe him. You don’t want to, but you do. You can see it written all over his face.

“I– I can’t do this Jake. It’s late, I’m exhausted. This is just…I can’t do the lies and the games. I feel like shit for causing these issues between you two. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, that’s never what I wanted. That’s not who I am.”

“You didn’t homewreck anything, Y/N! It was already wrecked before I ever even met you! You were rebuilding me! I was finally happy for the first time in–fuck. I wish I could show you, even barely explain what you have done for me, but I can’t because everything is just so fucked up now. Please, just know, I don’t want her. Haven’t for a long time,” he shouts.

“So what then, Jake? What do you want?”

“You know the answer to that. You have to know. I know you know,” he says, his voice softening. The look in his eyes is pleading with you even harder than his words are, and you can feel the sincerity coming off of him in waves.

Your heart aches at his words. You can feel that he is being genuine but there is still that shred of doubt clouding your mind. Part of you wants to stay, hear him out, let him explain everything. But the other part of you knows there is no use when at the end of the night he will be in bed with her.

“I’m sorry, Jake, I can’t…”

You brush past him and push through the door, hearing the heavy wood slam behind you.

—

JAKE POV

Fuck this. Fuck this fuck this fuck this.

What in the hell are you gonna do now?

There’s no right answer. No matter what decision you make, it’s going to be the wrong one. And it’s going to hurt someone else, whether you want it to or not.

You pull your hair back and throw it into a bun and grab a towel from the shelf in the corner, cupping it around your neck. You pull your tangled earphones from your pocket, getting aggravated as you try to pull them apart. You know that if Y/N was still around, she’d have them untangled and wrapped neatly for you, waiting in your bag for the next time you want to use them.

Fuck, you miss her. Her yelling in your face just now was the most you’ve spoken in days, and even though she was mad and disappointed and calling you every name in the book, somewhere deep, deep down, it felt good to be in her presence again. God, you need to get your shit together.

You step onto the treadmill as you feel the belt pick up speed beneath you, your feet keeping up with the traction of the increasing momentum. Your finger keeps hitting the button, keeps letting it climb and climb until it’s almost maxed out. You need to sprint so fast that your legs give out… you need to hear your heart beating in your ears for another reason other than getting too exhausted on stage. Physical exertion has always been one of your secret kryptonites, pushing your body to the point of no return to get your anger out. And most of the time, it truly worked.

Anything to keep you from going back to the room and screaming at Isla.

Once you feel like your body simply couldn’t handle another step, you slow the treadmill, cooling down with a brisk walk as you run the towel over your face. Have you seriously fucked everything up? Is anything ever going to get better? Or are you going to be stuck with Isla for the rest of your life?

After a few centering breaths and some self-slaps in the face, you get yourself together and make your way back up to your hotel room, wanting nothing more than to chug a bottle of water, and follow it up with another strong tequila. A hard buzz to get you through the night, then claim exhaustion to avoid talking to Isla any more than necessary.

As the elevator ascends and your body falls into that tranquil state of peace you get after a good workout, you realize that you’re going to have to share a bed with her. A queen sized bed. Fuck. Me.

Your limp legs carry you to your room and you inhale a sharp breath as you unlock the door, letting yourself into the room.

“Heyyyy baby…” Isla wails from the bed, stark naked with a bottle of champagne in her hand. “What took you so long?”

You drop your bag to the floor as the image before you stops you in your tracks. “I was working out, Isla,” you answer flatly.

“C’mon, come get in bed…” she slurs, and you can tell she’s already been working on the champagne. “Let’s celebrate our anniversary like we used to.”

You couldn’t feel more disconnected from her, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from her as possible, right now. You even contemplate pulling out the couch bed.

“Mmm, no. I’m getting in the shower, then I’m going to bed. I’m really tired,” you say, grabbing clothes from your bag, and an airplane bottle from the mini bar.

You hear her groan from behind you as her lips pop off the bottle of champagne. “Want me to join you?” she asks, her voice rising a few octaves.

“NO! No, I won’t be long, just… stay there.” You pull the bathroom door closed and quietly lock the latch, knowing that she is the type to sneak in even after you’d told her not to. Just months ago, you’d have given anything for her to join you in the shower. Hell, join you on tour. But now, the thought of her impeding in your space like this nearly makes you sick.

“Ugh, okay. I’ll be here waiting,” you hear her call through the door.

You tip the tequila back in one quick swallow and shower quickly, rinsing off the sweat of the day and the stench of your guilt, feeling more shitty than you’ve felt in a really, really long time. You want to talk to Josh. You need to hear his level-headed opinion on this matter, and honestly, you need Ty’s, too. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to them. Hopefully.

You step out of the shower and dry off, thanking yourself for remembering to grab a t-shirt and shorts to avoid having to walk in front of Isla half-clothed.

You flick the bathroom light off and find Isla in the same position she was in, watching some old 80’s crime rerun on TV. You plug your phone in and slide into the bed beside her, being sure to turn your back to her as you fluff the pillow beneath your head. Surprisingly, you aren’t really that tired, but you’ll be damned if you are going to stay awake a minute longer than you need to to endure this night.

You pretend to start to fall asleep, letting your body succumb to the comfort of the bed and puffy sheets. Your limbs relax as the exhaustion actually does set in, letting you know that maybe you aren’t as far from sleep as you think you are. Your eyes begin to play the beginning images of a dream, your body jerking a little as it relaxes. Suddenly, just as you’re about to drift off peacefully, you feel a hand run across your back, up underneath your shirt.

Ugh, Isla, please stop…

Her hand drifts up to your shoulder, squeezing the muscle and gritting the pad of her thumb up underneath your shoulder blade, massaging your tight back muscles. You’re letting yourself enjoy the sensation, picturing Y/N’s hands all over you just like they used to be, soft but strong in all the right places. It feels good, it feels really good. You have only had the hands of your hired massage therapists on your back for the past few days, so to feel the light touch of someone else’s hand is a welcome change.

“Shit baby, you’re tense…” Isla mumbles, making you wake up from your half-asleep state, sending all your dreams of Y/N straight down the drain.

“Isla, please…” you warn with a stern voice.

“Please what, baby? I miss you…” she sings, bringing her body to press up against your back. “Came all the way here to see you, visit you on our anniversary…”

Though your eyes are closed, you roll them, taking in a deep and cleansing breath as you prepare yourself to argue, yet again.

“Isla, today is just another day on my calendar. Can you please drop the anniversary shit? Do you not understand that I can’t do this with you anymore? I don’t want this–”

“So what, you gonna kick me out?” she slurs, and you can hear the drunkenness in her voice now. “Make me get another room? Or you gonna come take care of me the way I know you want to…”

For a split second, you think about it. You really think about it. Through the exhaustion in your bones and the tiredness of your muscles, your male brain contemplates it for a split second. Your dick throbs at the thought of it, no emotion involved, just straight meaningless sex. You could really fucking use it.

“I know you miss me Jake, I can feel it. See it when you look at me. I know you think about fucking me just as often as I think about it with you… I’m not naive.”

Giving in to her and giving her what she wants is an option that will get her to shut up, but it will also dig the hole you’re already in deeper than you can dig yourself out of, and that’s not a headache that you need right now.

No matter how good she looks under the covers…

No matter how good her hands felt on your skin, or how badly you could really use a good romp, right now.

Ugh, should you just get it over with? It would probably only take a second, at this point…

“No, please, just go the fuck to sleep,” you stay strong.

You pull your body away from her a bit, scooting further away and out of her reach. You hear her scoff as she rolls to her back, pulling the covers up over her chest. “Ya know, you aren’t the same person anymore, Jake. Remember when I told you you’d fucking changed? Well it’s true. It’s never been more true,” she barks. “You used to have the biggest heart, used to want me more than anything, love me more than anything. Now you’re just a grouchy son of a bitch. I can’t believe anyone can even stand to be around you anymore.”

Her words don’t even hurt you, anymore. They used to cut you like a knife. And though they make you feel like shit, you know they aren’t true. You might be a grouchy son of a bitch, but you know that your brothers and your friends still love you. She’s using anything she can to get under your skin, right now.

She’s the one who fucking changed.

“Ok Isla, thanks. Now let me go to sleep,” you beg, letting her words roll right off of your thickened skin.

Things fall quiet again but for just a second as Isla turns the volume up on the TV just a few notches, just enough to piss you off.

“Can you turn that back down, please?” you bellow, to which she responds with silence. The TV stays at an unreasonable volume as you try to tune it out, but you fall short. Your gut is boiling up with rage at her inconsideration.

“Isla! Hello? I’m trying to sleep! Do I need to go stay in Josh’s room or–”

“Damn Jake, chill, it isn’t even that loud…” she complains as she grabs the remote, switching the TV off completely. For some reason, that just pisses you off even more.

“Isla, listen to me. Why did you come here?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose as you sit up in bed.

“...Because, we’ve always spent this week together, it’s special, I thought you’d be excited to see me after we’ve been on this break…” she squeaks.

“Do you not remember everything I said before I left? Seriously? That I didn’t want any contact from you, I needed to sort shit out, I needed you to find somewhere else to go… why is none of it clicking with you? I’m so confused,” you spurt, the words tripping over themselves.

“I don’t understand why you aren’t respecting my wishes. I don’t understand why you showed up here unannounced,” you go on. “I don’t understand how I could put things more clearly, that I don’t want this anymore. I’m tired of having this same fucking conversation over and over and it never means anything to you.” You speak like a teacher to his young students, clearly and slowly, now, so that it might help her to understand. But it won’t. She never gets it.

The room is dark and bleak, only the pale gleam of the street lights poking through the windows and the heat blowing through the vent in the corner fill the empty space between you. “All I want is space, and you can’t even give me that. No matter how far away I run.” The words hurt to choke out as you begin to feel a little sorry for yourself. This shit with her is beginning to wear you down, tearing away at your self-worth even though you act like it isn’t.

“I thought… I thought you might have just wanted a couple of weeks to think about things, time to miss me, ya know?” she says, obviously completely forgetting about the countless arguments you’d had on the phone since tour began. She’s obviously gaslighting you yet again.

“Mia and Lyla said you seemed distracted lately, just unhappy and not yourself,” she says.

“See, that’s not true, Isla. If anything, I’ve been happier. More free to do whatever I please,” and you know that is a stone cold fact.

“It just… ugh it feels so fucking wrong and stupid to be home, in your home, cleaning and taking care of things and making sure the bills are paid and that things are working while you’re gone… until I found somewhere else to go, Jake. I don’t have anywhere to go!” she yells, sitting up to face you. “I’ve relied on you for years, and you expect me to just pick up and find somewhere in a week? Be for fucking real. You didn’t even give me time to look for somewhere before you decided to kick me out!”

“That’s not fucking true, Isla! I discussed this with you countless fucking times before I left! But it’s like it went in one ear, and straight out the other! I know what you’re doing, you’re using me. I understand. I get it, I’m doing well for myself and you don’t want to lose that. That’s all this is. That’s all you’ve come to care about! You don’t care about me anymore! Just your fucking status,” your chest is heaving, your heart beating from it as you let it all out again, the same goddamed thing you always say, hoping, praying, that one day it will catch on in her mind.

“I just wanted to be close to you again,” she pouts, completely ignoring the actual meat of the details of what you’re actually concerned with, dancing around the actual issues yet again. “Plus they said you’d gotten really close with that other girl and I–”

“Oh! Ohhhh, so that’s what this is about? What else did they say, huh?”

Isla pulls the sheets up over her lap as she reclines back onto the bed. “Ugh, nothing,” she tries to blow it off, sending a whole new wave of rage straight through you.

“No, tell me. I want to know what everyone is saying about MY life behind my back when I told you I wanted privacy.” Your fist pounds against your chest. “Please, enlighten me,” you spit, the venom in your voice like gasoline catching fire. This could be it, this could be when you let your secret be known, and fuck, could it backfire. But you’re so blinded with fury that you don’t really even fucking care at this point.

“They told me they think you’re sleeping with her, okay?” she yells, and you know things are about to go south, and quickly.

“Hah,” you breathe. “So that’s the whole reason you came over here, to check up on me after I told you I don’t want to even be with you anymore. That’s fucking disgusting Isla,” you growl, your teeth gritting against each other. “We’re grown fucking adults.”

“So are you?” she challenges, her tone reminding you of a girlfriend you would have had in the ninth grade.

“What?”

“Are you sleeping with her?!” her voice cracks as she yells at you.

You’re so horribly offended you can hardly see straight, and all your extremities feel numb. “That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it fucking is, Jake! I live in your home!” she retorts, her hands flying in the air, now. The voice of your twin reverberates in the back of your mind, and though you’ll never admit it to him, he was absolutely and completely right. It’s all blowing up in your face.

You’re so fucking sick of this. You’re so fucking tired of it all. Your life doesn’t feel like it’s your own anymore, and when you do return home, it will most definitely feel like anything but. It’s time you stand your ground.

“You know what Isla? Yes, yes we were. You happy?” you say, the words flowing a little more freely than you’d thought they would. But, they also make the hole in your heart a little bigger, seeing as how now, you might truly never get Y/N back. Your voice falls a little with your next admission. “She made me fucking happy.”

Isla inhales through her nose, the realization hitting her as she tries to catch her breath. She doesn’t say anything for a good few seconds as you let her process, and you hear a few tiny sobs leave her chest. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, Jacob…” she breathes, her words no more than a whisper. “So you…you cheated on me…”

What did she fucking expect, really?

You grit your jaw and stiffen your muscles as you hold back. “How is it cheating when I told you I didn’t want to be with you anymore, for months, begged you to leave, told you I was finished. Beyond finished. How is that cheating?”

Convincing yourself of that has been the hardest part. There is no rule book for this shit. The whole situation is so sticky. So messy, tossed around and disorganized like you’ve never seen before. Nothing is right, nothing is wrong. Your morals are out the window, your decision-making skills are shot. You’re exhausted. You’re mad. You’re heartbroken.

But she doesn’t answer your question.

No more conversation is held between the two of you for the rest of the night, and you lie back on your pillow and listen to the sounds of her crying, her chest catching with violent sobs that she tries to hide from you. You can’t see her, but you know what her face must look like. Red and splotched with heavy wet tears, her cheeks flushed and pink as she realizes how real her suspicions were. You can’t stand to hear her crying, it was always your biggest weakness when it came to her, aside from her ability to lure you back into bed, of course.

You feel sorry for her. You can’t help it. The old her is buried down underneath there, somewhere, deep underneath this new persona, underneath the brand new person that you hardly even know anymore. She’s got to still be there, the girl you fell in love with. The honest and sincere and forgiving one. She’s still got to be somewhere in there, right?

Old habits die hard, especially for a person you once held so close to your heart. You hate being the reason she can hardly catch her breath right now. You hate being under the covers with her in the same bed in a foreign country, with nothing but a pillow separating the two of you as her cries fill the quiet of the room. You know it’s wrong, you know it’s the worst thing you could probably do, but your human emotion overtakes your decision making skills, and you place a hand on her arm, feeling her goosebump-covered skin under your touch.

“‘M sorry, Isla. I really am,” you whisper, squeezing your hand on her just a little. “Can you please stop crying?”

“My whole life is fucking falling apart, Jake. No, I don’t think I will stop crying,” she says, completely unaware that she is half the reason your lives together started to fall apart in the first place. You know she has got some serious over committal issues, that much is true. But it doesn’t stop the fact that the other half of that life-ruining moment is happening by your hand. The last thing you want is to be the reason someone is unhappy at all.

Reality sets in as you release your hold on her cold arm, rolling to your back to stare at the popcorned ceiling. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the sound of her cries, reminding yourself over and over that honesty is the best policy, and you need to be the one who takes care of yourself.

Instead, you think about tomorrow. You’re going to try and make the day tolerable, no matter what it takes. You’re going to see the Black Keys with your brothers, and you’re going to enjoy yourself.

Maybe Mia and Lyla will take care of their grieving best friend, keeping her far, far away from you. Maybe Josh will notice and intervene. Maybe.

7:00 is going to come early, and you roll to make sure your alarm is set to wake you, knowing that the bus ride to Glasgow is going to be anything but enjoyable.

Sleep will be anything but peaceful tonight.

—

HER POV

Your alarm wakes you far too early, your muscles sore and tired from the overexertion of running last night. You feel refreshed, knowing that you only have to get on the bus this morning then you will be on your way to the concert with Murph. You still hadn’t decided on what to wear, but you knew it had to be good. Like really good.

You roll over to grab your phone, seeing that Murph had already texted you this morning but also seeing that sometime in the early morning hours Jake added a song to the playlist. Your mind struggles with which notification to open first, your brain telling you to open Murph’s text, but your heart pulling for you to see what Jake added.

Against your better judgment you swipe open the playlist notification, watching the songs populate in the playlist. As you scroll to the bottom you let out a sigh seeing his addition of ‘Don’t Wanna Fight’ by Alabama Shakes.

You tap the song, letting the opening notes play through your phone as you swipe out of it and open your texts.

Murph

6:47AM: Good morning, hope you slept well.

6:48AM: When we get to Glasgow and get settled I’ll send you more concrete details for tonight, just have a few things to secure first. Can’t wait. 😎

You

7:05AM: I can’t wait either, looking forward to it! 🎹

You toss your phone on the nightstand and pull yourself out of bed, quickly dressing and packing up your suitcase to meet everyone in the lobby. To say you’re dreading it is an understatement, and you know that the three hour bus ride into Glasgow is going to be anything but pleasant.

Thankfully you were able to secure a seat near the back of the bus, leaving Jake, Isla and the rest of the crew towards the front. You can see Murph’s head peeking over the top of the seat, his eyes finding you just as the bus pulls out into traffic.

You

8:02AM: Cool kids sit at the back of the bus

Murph

8:03AM: Someone has to watch the children

You

8:04AM: I’ll just be back here thinking about tonight, then…

Murph

8:05AM: Hasn’t left my mind all morning 😉

Your heart flutters as you see him turn around and wink at you, your cheek growing red with lust. You spend much of the three hour ride deciding what to wear and how you wanted to do your hair for the show, simultaneously listening to the new Keys album.

It’s not long before you’re rolling your suitcase over the threshold of your new hotel room, flopping down on the oversized bed with a sigh of relief. The bus ride was uneventful, just as you’d hoped it would be.

You open the facetime app and tap Ruth’s name, knowing she needs a rundown and that you need her help deciding on an outfit. As the call connects you see her in her bathroom, towel on her head as she does her skincare routine.

“Hello…” she answers, a mumble as her mouth contorts into an ‘O”.

“Ruth, code red I need you to help me pick an outfit for tonight,” you groan.

“What’s tonight?” she asks, peeking an eye open to look at you.

“The Black Keys show with Murph!” you shout, “Do you even listen to my voice memos anymore?!”

“Yeah, all fifty of them,” she snickers, “What are the options?”

“Well, anything really, but it has to be hot because I’m trying to get laid.”

“Oh, yeah sure, not because Jake and Miss Congeniality are going to be there too, right?” she taunts.

“No,” you lie. Of course you want to make him jealous.

“What is Muscles McFly wearing?” she asks.

“Well, if I had to guess, jeans and a t-shirt. Kind of his signature look,” you laugh.

“Okay, and you’re tryna smash, right?”

“I mean, yeah, hopefully,” you blush.

“Okay, mini skirt. Boob top. Lip gloss. Never fails.”

“The fuck is a boob top?” you laugh.

“Something that makes your tits look good, idiot,” she barks.

“Oh yeah, because I packed so many of those for freezing cold Europe,” you add.

“Well, just do your best, but definitely the skirt. And don’t even say you don’t have one because I slipped mine in your suitcase for this exact purpose.”

“Ruthie…” you groan.

“Thank me tomorrow when you can’t walk,” she smiles, winking at you as she ends the call.

You laugh and toss your phone onto the bed, opting for a quick nap before you have to get ready for the show.

—

Murph

4:57PM: Meet you in the lobby in fifteen to pick you up?

You

4:59PM: Pick me up?

Murph

5:01PM: Might have got another truck

You

5:02PM: Of course you did. See you in a few. 😙

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, deciding that yeah, maybe Ruth was right about the boob shirt. You looked good, better than good. You knew Murph was going to love it, and Jake was going to hate every second of seeing you in it with someone that isn’t him.

You slip on your boots and swipe on your lip gloss, grabbing your bag and making your way downstairs to the lobby. As you step outside the glass doors you see Murph leaning up against the hood of a truck, arms crossed across his chest. His muscles are defined beneath his t-shirt, his hat turned backwards as he eyes you up and down.

“My, my, well don’t you look gorgeous,” he smiles.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, handsome,” you flirt. You see his smile grow as he pushes off the truck and moves to open the door for you. You can smell his cologne wafting off of him, dark and masculine. It’s intoxicating, and you stop yourself from breathing in too much.

You jump up into the truck, letting him shut the door behind you. He makes his way around to the other side, getting in next to you and starting the engine. “You ready?”

“More than,” you grin, crossing your legs.

“Me too,” he smiles, pulling out onto the busy street.

“How do you always manage to get your own vehicles in every place we go?” you laugh, turning to look at him.

“Some say I’m a magic man,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

“I like the sound of that,” you answer, rubbing your glossed lips together.

“You smell amazing,” he says, almost as if he’d been dying to say it.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah, like, very very fucking good,” he admits.

“Well, it’s pheromones. It reacts differently on everyone’s skin, and it smells different to everyone who smells it. It’s supposed to help you attract people,” you smile.

“Not to be too forward, but it’s making me want to fucking devour you,” he confesses through a grin.

Your chest swells with lust as his words sink in, and in that moment you briefly consider skipping the concert so he can do just that. His phone rings, breaking your conversation. He holds his phone to his ear as he answers.

“Murph,” he says.

“Yeah, we are about ten minutes out. Tell them I will meet them at the artist entrance and walk them in the side doors,” he continues. “Sounds good, see you then.”

Your brow furrows as you try to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. He ends the call and turns to look at you with a sneaky look on his face.

“Who are we meeting?” you ask nervously.

“Well, as much as I would like to have you to myself tonight, it’s a bit of a family trip. Gotta walk the crew in then I’m all yours once Paul and Dean show up.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. That’s no problem. I mean, it’s your job and all,” you grin, feeling his hand slide over to rest on your bare thigh.

“You’re sweet, you know?”

You shrug your shoulders and blush, wondering if you’d ever received such a genuine compliment.

The rest of the car ride is spent listening to music and soaking in the feeling of his warm protective hand on your leg. He pulls into the parking lot and pulls into a space, smiling as he puts the car in park.

“Oh, that reminds me, there is actually one more thing I forgot to tell you,” he grins.

“Oh, gosh, what?” you ask nervously.

He reaches into the backseat and pulls out two lanyards with laminated badges reading Backstage - All Access.

“Ezra,” you gasp. “How–”

“Surprise, baby,” he smiles, placing the black lanyard over your head. He pulls your hair over the strap, letting it fall back over your shoulders.

“How did you– Please tell me how you managed to get backstage passes?! Like, this is almost impossible, I’ve tried,” you huff into the air as you and Murph jump out of the truck and high-step it into the venue, following behind the hoards of people who are also running late for the show.

He steps sideways, wrapping his strong arm around your neck as he pulls you into him for just a few seconds as if you’re his kid sister.

“I think you need to stop asking questions and just trust that I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever met,” he boasts into your ear, kissing the side of your head quickly before releasing your neck and pushing you away again.

You scoff at him through your teeth, your heart doing backflips at his gesture. “I don’t know about the coolest…maybe the most annoying, though…” you tease, shooting him a wink.

You both skip every other step as you rush up the concrete stairs to the venue doors, already hearing the loud crashing music of the openers. You’d seen the Black Keys twice before, the last time being almost five years ago, now. But since then they've put out so much more music. Since then you’d fallen so much more in love with them. And since then, you’d met Murph. Who just kissed the side of your head, and is taking you backstage.

“Am I really annoying?” he asks, letting you step ahead of him to go through the metal detectors at the entrance. His look had turned from playful to genuinely concerned, and you halfway wonder if he actually believed your statement.

“No! Crazy, you’re not annoying in the least,” you smile, picking your purse back up from the container as he follows you through it. “You’re amazing.”

His eyes are already scanning around, and you can tell that he’s not used to being on this side of these kinds of events. “Fuck, good. Last thing I wanna do is get on your nerves.”

The two of you dash and wind through the crowds, and you know that he’s searching for the guys. He is semi off the clock tonight, but watching out for them has already become ingrained in his mind…more than a job, and more of a duty.

“Danny said they’d be over this way, come on!” He shouts toward you, and you wonder how on earth, and why on earth they decided to be part of the general admission pit when they share fans with half of the Keys’ fandom. Seems a bit…unsafe, but, whatever.

Murph takes your hand in his as you push through the thickening crowd, sweetly intertwining his fingers with yours. He feels strong and steadfast, people basically stepping aside for him as you trail behind. You watch as he nods quick ‘thank you’s’ to each person that lets you through. Such a gentleman.

He squeezes your hand every few seconds, silently asking if you’re okay back there. You return the squeeze, his oversized, calloused palms gently scratching against your soft hands. You wonder what they’d feel like touching you in other places…

“Murph! Hey man!” You hear Danny’s voice beckon, and you see his curls sitting on his head, taller than everyone else. Murph turns back to look at you, pulling you to the right a little as he leads you toward the group.

Your stomach sinks when you see Jake, dressed in all black with his hair pulled back in a low bun, his blue-tinted sunglasses sitting on his nose. His tongue sucks into his cheek as he gives you an up-down, noticing first how your hand is tightly clasped in Murph’s. You can see his chest rise with a sarcastic laugh as he continues to wrap his arm around Isla’s waist, swigging beer from the plastic cup in his other hand.

Fucking asshole. You know he’s just being touchy to get under your skin.

You stand awkwardly as you watch Danny turn to look at the two of you, giving you a questioning look as he contorts his face up as if to say, ‘Murph, what have you got here, attached to your side?’

Murph reads his expression, leaning in close to whisper in Danny’s ear. Danny responds with a satisfied and agreeing head nod, giving him a quick fist bump as he looks back at Jake, but only for a second. Danny bites the edge of his beer cup between his front two teeth as he turns back to the stage, giving you a quick wink before he wraps his arm around Mia.

Fuck, what did Murph say?

“Y/N, they’re in like, a roped-off type area. We can stand beside them but I can’t get us over there,” Murph yells into your ear.

You bite your lips in and give him a pitiful look, standing on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his ear. “…But we have backstage passes, and they don’t. Who are the real winners here?”

As you pull back, you’re met with his hundred-watt smile, sending butterflies all through your stomach. God, he is so…

You both know you’re lying to yourselves, the guys have met them before and probably even had conversations with them. But it was fun to pretend for just a little while that you were the famous ones, ready to flash your badges at whoever asks to see them.

“You’re so right,” he rolls his eyes, motioning to the guys behind them like they were beneath you. “You wanna watch the show from here, or go watch from the side-stage? My buddy is back there working tonight, said we could come say hi…”

“Oh, so it’s a buddy that got you these passes, huh?” you tease, letting your other hand join in with the other, squeezing into his rough hands. Your eyes drift over to the guys again, and you see Ty motion for you to come and stand with them. But you pretend like you didn’t see him. You pretend that the guy that’s had you secretly crying every night for the past couple weeks wasn’t standing there with his beautiful girlfriend, pulling her into him as they ignored everyone else around them.

“Let’s go up there,” you make the executive decision, which Murph seems completely alright with.

“Yes ma’am,” he responds, turning to give one last word to Danny and Sam, and to Dean and Monty before taking off toward the staircase to head backstage. The sky is growing dark with clouds, and you wonder if it is going to rain on you.

You spend much of the show watching from side stage, dancing along to every song and singing at the top of your lungs. You’re pretty sure Murph didn’t realize how big of a fan you were when you didn’t miss a single lyric. A few times you caught him staring at you in awe, taking in the sight of you as you enjoyed every single second of the show.

He could hardly keep his hands off of you, circling your waist or holding onto your hips as you danced. It felt good. He felt safe. He sang along to the slower songs, his lips only inches from your ear as his deep voice ran shivers up your spine. Your eyes peered out into the crowd, and you saw him. Jake’s eyes locked on you as you were wrapped in Murph’s arms singing the words to ‘She’s Long Gone’. It felt a bit ironic, truthfully, because in a way you were. Or atleast, you wanted to be.

You let your eyes meet his as you mouth the words, his jaw hardening and his lips growing thin as he sipped from his beer. He was mad, maybe even jealous, probably both. You tried not to pay attention, looking up to see Murph standing behind you. His eyes met yours as he kissed the top of your head, sending a flutter of butterflies into your stomach.

You look over again to see him on his phone, feeling a buzz in your purse almost immediately. You pull your phone from your purse just enough to read his message.

Jake

9:16PM: What the fuck are you doing right now Y/N

You make eye contact with him as you shove the phone back into your purse and purposefully spin around in Murph’s arms to face him. He knows exactly what you’re doing. He’s watching your every move instead of his girlfriend right next to him. Let him watch. Let him feel how you felt.

It’s at that moment the guy next to you stumbles backwards, spilling his entire beer all over you.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps, “I’m so sorry.”

Murph immediately grows stiff behind you, “Hey man, watch yourself.”

“My bad dude,” he growls.

“Yeah, it was your bad. Watch yourself next time,” he snaps.

You turn to Murph and give him a reassuring nod, “It’s okay, let me just go to the bathroom and clean up real quick,” you say.

“I’ll go with you,” he answers, a crackle of thunder rumbling in the distance.

“No, no. You stay here. Don’t lose our spot. I will be right back, promise.”

“Alright, don’t be long or I’ll come looking for you,” he smiles, squeezing your arm.

You make your way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning off the spilled beer and freshening up your makeup. You can hear them starting the encore, just as you step out into the crowd. You see the man that spilled his beer on you approaching you with a smug look on his face.

“Hey, sorry about that sweetheart. Let me make it up to you? Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.

“Um, no. I need to get back to my date, actually,” you answer.

“That brute?” he asks in his thick accent.

“Yeah. That brute,” you scoff.

His hand reaches for you as you walk away, grabbing your arm and pulling you back towards him. You see him go flying across the crowd as Murph pushes him off of you, pulling you behind him in a matter of a second.

“No one ever teach you not to grab a lady?” he says, spitting venom at the man. “I think you should go.”

“Go where?” she spits.

“Somewhere,” Murph says, and you can feel the fury pouring off of him. “Would be in your best interest to get far fucking away from me, sir. And as quickly as possible.”

He looks Murph up and down, quickly realizing he is no match for him. Not in this lifetime at least. The man mumbles something in a different language and walks in the other direction, admitting defeat.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Murph, I didn’t think he would follow me,” you whine.

“Not your fault, baby. Let’s go, yeah? Encore is almost over.”

“Okay, yeah. Hey, thanks for that,” you say, linking your fingers with his. He immediately softens, the tension releasing from his demeanor.

“Of course, wish I could have been there the first time,” he grins.

“Yeah, me too,” you say, thinking of Jake coming to your rescue, and if you truly meant that.

“Just gotta find the guys and then we can go,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. Another crack of thunder lights up the sky, and you know it's about to pour.

“I’m with you,” you smile, following happily at his side as the rain finally does start to fall around you.

—

JAKE POV

“You guys all good? Everyone here and accounted for?” Murph asks as he stands just outside of the awning of the back exit of the venue.

“We’re fine, you can go,” you bark under your breath, earning yourself a slight of Murph’s eyes. Y/N is standing beside him, his soaked leather jacket draped over her head as she watches him do his job. She’s not complaining, she doesn’t seem bothered by the cold, pouring rain at all. She actually looks…

He’s soaking wet, completely unbothered by the rain soaking through his shirt, too. Does this guy feel anything? Ever? Fucking man’s man.

As you slip through the back private door exit into the pouring rain behind them, you can’t help but feel overwhelmingly defeated. Defeated, and also so fucking envious that you know that your eyes are turning green. You can feel Isla’s finger slip through your back belt loop, following behind you as she shields herself from the blowing rain. You make little to no effort to hold her hand, or offer her your jacket, because frankly, you just don’t fucking think to.

All you can think of is seeing her hand in Murph’s, the genuine smile on her face as he pulled her toward backstage, and the joy in her eyes as he tossed his jacket over her head as they rushed outside. Fuck him. Fuck it. Does he even have any fucking clue that you and her–

No. He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, because if she had told him about you and her, he would not be pursuing her right now. So he’s living blindly. Great.

Your hands are almost visibly shaking as you think about what they’re probably going to do tonight, and the way you left things with her. You still crave her, want to be involved with every little detail of her life, but now… god dammit, everything is ruined. Totally and completely fucking ruined.

Josh swings the door to the van open as you let everyone else climb inside ahead of you. You feel Isla’s finger slip free finally, and you let her climb in before you, hoping that there won’t be any room left for you to sit beside her.

But of course, your luck has run all the way out, and the only seat left in the van is squished in beside Mia, Danny, and her. She pats the seat, giving you her faux- fuck me eyes. “Sit here, baby, plenty of room…”

You audibly groan, contemplating walking for just a second before a loud crack of thunder shakes the air, forcing you inside the van. As it takes off through the puddling rain, you stare out the window in an attempt to ignore Isla’s wandering hand on your knee, getting way too close for comfort.

It’s as you grip her hand in yours and pull it away that you catch sight of them, Y/N and Murph booking it down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, hand in hand as their faces are lit up with laughter. She’s smiling so big as the rain soaks her clothing, seeming to have no care in the world as they make the tight turn into the lot. Before you lose sight of them, you catch him throwing his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head. It takes everything in you to not punch the window and break every single piece of glass from it, letting it shatter and cut your hands as you yell obscenities through the air. Who the fuck does he think he is?!

You’re sick with rage, the jealousy so overwhelming you swear you might be going insane. You feel your breathing pick up and your jaw tighten, physically ill with the thought of his hands on her. Where your hands belong. You think back to last night in the gym, how she yelled at you, how she seemed so distraught, and so disappointed in how things had worked out. Your heart is deafening in your ears, your fists balled up tightly as you try to talk yourself down.

Has she forgotten all the things you said to her? All the promises you made, all the honesty you’d shown when you let your guard down? Is she really about to waste it all?

Suddenly Isla’s hand on your thigh seems a lot less like an aggravation, and a lot more like the perfect opportunity, presenting itself on a silver platter.

Suddenly a slew of evil thoughts creep into the back corners of your mind, spiteful and grating as the bitterness takes up shop in your bones like a family of snakes.

Suddenly, resentment is the only emotion you feel.

—

HER POV

Your hand is on Murph’s thigh as he zips in and out of traffic as you leave the venue. Your whole body is buzzing after watching him show his authority to that stupid drunk guy, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said your mind hadn’t already traveled to some dark places in just the few short minutes you’d been in the car.

“That guy was a fucking idiot, Y/N. I almost fucking throttled him right then and there…” he says through gritted teeth. You squeeze his leg, trying your best to calm him, or even better, get him worked up in another way.

“It was fine, he was fine…I was handling it, I’m—”

“He spilled his beer all over you, Y/N! That’s not fucking okay! Following you? Grabbing you?” he stopped there, tapping his fingers angrily on the steering wheel.

“Well, it’s a good thing your friend was the one working their security tonight, right? You don’t always have to take care of everyone all the time, ya know…” you tried to speak quietly.

“Yes I do, Y/N. I don’t know any other way. Especially when it comes to someone like you…” he goes on, his eyes never leaving the road. He’s hunched forward in his seat, the windshield wipers on full blast as they swipe the raindrops falling heavily on the windshield.

“Someone like me?” You ask, hoping that he will explain further. Your body is burning with want for him, watching as his hands white-knuckle the wheel, and his left foot taps against the floorboards. The rain is still dripping down his cheeks, the top-half of his t-shirt almost completely soaked, making the material stick to his toned arms just a little too perfectly.

You shudder under the warmth of his jacket that he threw over you as you ran out the side exit into the downpour, ready to be away from the chaos that had just ensued inside.

“Yeah, someone like you. Someone I’m determined to keep around,” he says, giving you a quick glance from the side of his eye.

Your hand squeezes tighter around his thigh, and you feel no shame in moving it just a little higher. “You want me around?” you purr, like you don’t already know how into you he is.

He takes a deep breath as you near the parking lot of your hotel, his body slowly but surely calming from his adrenaline rush. “Yeah, I want you around. I want you around really fucking bad…” his hand mirrors yours, drifting to wrap almost completely around your leg, choosing a spot much, much higher than the one where your hand rests on his.

You almost moaned at his touch, his hand warm against the bare, chilled skin of your legs. You suck in a quick breath at his show of what is obviously desperation.

“Murph…” you breathe, your voice almost choked as you rise from your seat a little more, begging him to move his hand, dig his fingers in, anything…

“What, baby? Tell me what you want…” he growls, his chest heaving a little as one hand steers the car, while the other steers you into oblivion.

You exhale hard as his grip tightens, the pads of his fingertips adding extra pressure as he slowly ascends higher and higher on your leg.

The stoplight hanging above you turns red, and you curse it, or thank it, really…for giving you a second.

“I want…I—” you can hardly form the words, and he is hardly even touching you.

When you refuse to answer him, he retreats, his hand drifting away now down toward your knee.

“No, don’t…”

He’s finally able to make eye contact with you as the light stays red. “I said tell me, Y/N. Tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you, whatever you want…” he shakes his head slowly as he talks, promising you his whole world like he doesn’t even know he’s slowly destroying yours.

“Want you to—to touch me, please, Murph. I—”

Without a word his hand climbs up again, snaking underneath your skirt to cup his palm directly over your cunt. The feeling is enough to pull a quiet whine from your chest, and you grip both armrests with haste as he presses two fingers expertly exactly where you need them.

“Fuck…” you breathe, his fingers slowly beginning to move.

The light turns green, and you slowly take off again. “This it? This what you wanted?” he asks.

You nod hard. “Mhm, yeah…” your legs fall apart a little bit on their own, your body pleading for him to have more access to you. Where the fuck is the hotel?!

You hear him breathing heavily as you know he wants nothing more than to touch you better, watch your face as his fingers move across you, already dripping wet for him.

As his fingers pull your panties to the side with one quick motion, your entire body feels like it’s about to erupt into flames. His fingers finally connect with you, skin on skin, and it’s almost too much. Your arms pick you up from your seat a little as your head hits the headrest, your mouth falling open as his middle finger connects with your clit.

“Oh my god…” you mutter, a little more loudly than earlier. Your new position allows him to dip his fingers low again, brushing against your opening and dragging your wetness through your folds. Your hand finds his arm, squeezing the muscle as you feel his tendons tighten and loosen as he works his hand expertly beneath your skirt.

You take a second to glance down, his hand completely hidden by the material of your skirt. The visual is all-encompassing as the lightning flashes another loud rumble of thunder through the air.

“God I can’t wait to park this fucking car,” Murph grits as he pulls into the private parking garage. It’s generally empty, save for a few cars here and there that look like they haven’t moved in a while. Most of the overhead lights are burnt out, leaving the garage nothing but a winding maze of shadows.

Murph whips the vehicle into a parking place against the back wall, into an area not illuminated with much light, at all. As soon as he puts it in park, he reaches underneath the seat to pull the lever, sending his chair as far back as it will go.

“Get the fuck over here,” he demands, holding up the two fingers that were just nearly inside you up, motioning for you to climb over the console.

You do as he asks, clambering over top of the center console and falling into his lap. One knee on either side of him, you press your entire body weight into him, both of you still soaked and frozen from the rain.

His hands are immediately gripping the backs of your thighs, jerking you into a position that he’s happy with as you grab his face, pressing your lips hard against his. Both of you are ripping and tearing at each other’s clothes, nails scraping and pulling across the skin of one another as your yearning finally comes to a head.

Your arms snake from his face to around his neck, your fingers catching the bill of his backwards hat, tearing it off his head and throwing it into the backseat. For the first time, you see his full head of dark, straight hair, a tousled mess, but matching the brown of his eyes perfectly.

You take his strands between the cracks of your fingers, pulling and twisting it into your grasp as he starts to make noises, now. Your tongues are fighting each other, the sweetness of the taste of him bringing you back to all the other times you’ve kissed him, but none ever this intense. None ever this desperate.

You take the time to press yourself down against his lap, finally feeling him hard and ready between your legs. He moans into your mouth, his hands now snaked up under your skirt again, his hands fully cupping both your asscheeks.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, baby…” he says as you break away for a second. “Feel so fuckin’ good…”

“You haven’t even felt me yet, Murph…” you laugh.

“Don’t need to feel you to know how good you are…how perfect…” he praises through pants of air. You reach behind you, searching with your hand until you find his cock, basically bursting at the seams of his still-damp jeans. You brush your hand across it a little before you squeeze. Just that touch makes him jump, his hands disconnecting from you for just a second as he gathers himself, his head rolling back a little as he grips your face in his hands, returning back to the heated kiss.

“Unbutton your jeans, Ezra,” you finally demand, unable to take this foreplay any longer.

He wordlessly obeys your command, lifting you up with one hand while the other does what you want, and unbuckles his belt. You never let up on moving your lips across his neck and behind his ear, needing him to know how badly you want this. You want him.

You can feel your arousal pooling again as his fingers fidget so closely to where you need them, but finally you hear the sound of his zipper pulling down, and the feeling of his dick springing free.

You sit back, your back almost hitting the steering wheel as you take a good look at him, hair a mess and face flushed in the darkness, before letting your eyes travel down his torso and land on his cock.

Your hand gravitates to it, wasting no time in letting yourself feel him, finally. His left hand shoots behind him and wraps around the headrest, while the other one trails along your face, your shoulder, your hip…

Your hand begins to work him, barely enough material in his jeans and boxers to give him enough room to spring all the way free. “Fuck, Y/N…” he breathes, bucking his hips up into your touch. Your eyes flitter to watch his face, his eyelids hooded and his mouth hanging open.

“I don’t have any protection…” he finally admits, breathing out a dissatisfied sigh.

“Good thing I don’t care,” you respond, surprising yourself. You know you aren’t ovulating, and you know Murph isn’t the type of man to even let you get this far if you had anything else to worry about. Your mind is spinning too fast and your body is ravaging itself with want too badly to care, anyway.

You wrap your arms around his neck again, sitting up as you let yourself search for his tip. Your hips swirl around a little until you finally find it, teasing yourself just a little as you let your wetness coat him.

“Are you sure, baby…” he begs, truly showing his gentlemanly morals, as far in as you already are.

“Do I have anything to worry about?” you ask, feeling a little annoyed.

He shakes his head quickly from side to side. “No. I promise.”

“Good then, I’m positive…” you respond, lining up perfectly with him. You slowly begin to sink yourself down on him, letting your body adjust to this new stretch as you do so. “Ffff…” you breathe out as you realize he just keeps filling you and filling you, so deliciously sweet you think you could come undone already.

The sounds that escape both of you bounce off the windows of the car as the steam already starts to coat them, both of you unable to utter a coherent word at all. You lift off of him again, finding him to be of notable size, before sinking back down and bottoming out again. “Shit, Y/N… my god, baby…” he says as he brushes your damp hair from your face, giving your whole body an up-down.

“Mhmm…” you agree, pressing your chest back to his as you lean forward, starting to find a little bit of a rhythm. Things are always more difficult in a vehicle, especially in the cramped front seat of one, but you could truly care less that your knee is shoving into the seatbelt and your head is hitting the top of the cab.

His hands are traveling all over you, warming your skin as they do, and you wish that he could touch you all over and caress the places he can’t reach, all for the sake of warming you up. Your handles, your sides, your breasts… he takes special care to take his time and memorize you, all while the both of you are straining to keep yourselves together.

“Fuck, you feel good,” you say as your hands dig in to his pecs.

“All yours baby, take what you want,” he growls, thrusting up into you.

He buries his head in your chest, and you silently thank Ruth for the shirt suggestion. His lips drag warm and wet across your chest, pulling the fabric of your shirt to the side to reveal your chest. He drags his teeth against your sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to rise and your nipples to harden further.

“Baby, shit…”

“God, Ez, keep going,” you beg breathlessly.

The sounds filling the cab are lewd and wet and everything you knew this would be. His mouth is velvet against your skin as your fingers grip harder into his hair. You start to roll your hips to meet his thrusts, knowing you aren’t going to last very much longer, especially in this position.

“Y/N,” he groans, letting his hands rest at the curve of your waist, “I want you, baby,” he pauses, gasping for air as he fights his release, “Want you all the time.”

His hips snap up into you, your eyes watering at the sensation. He feels so fucking good. “I want you,” you whine, tightening and fluttering around his cock.

“I’ll give it to you. You just fucking say it and I’ll give it to you,” he begs, needing desperately to claim you as his own.

His hand snakes down, his fingers circling rapidly over your swollen clit, pushing you over the edge.

“Murph, baby, yes! I’m there. I’m coming, fuck,” you cry out, the windows of the car practically dripping with condensation.

“Yeah, baby, me too, god you’re so fuckin’ sexy. Fuckin’ gorgeous, cum Y/N, let me fill you,” he says, thrusting into you one last time as you both meet your collective release.

Your name falls from his lips as you gasp his, your hands never leaving his hair as you unravel around him. You feel him warm and full inside of you, his eyes rolled back in his head as he starts to come down.

“I don’t wanna move,” you smile, pressing your lips to his.

“Don’t have to. More than happy to keep you right here, just like this,” he grins, nipping at your bottom lip. “Though I’d love to take you back to my room to get cleaned up.”

“Yeah? You want more?” you tease.

“I’ll never get enough of you girl,” he says, a little bit of an accent peeking through.

“Makes two of us,” you grin, rolling your hips one last time before lifting up off of him.

“I think we have early call time tomorrow, though,” he says, seemingly disappointed.

“We do. Full day, but then we have a week off,” you say, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

“Hmm, and just what am I gonna do with you for a full week,” he teases.

“I can think of a few things,” you wink.

“Come on, trouble. Let me walk you back to your room.”

—

JAKE POV

Pulling back into the hotel, you find yourself still reeling with madness, hoping to god you don’t run into Y/N and Murph in the lobby. It’d be in their best interest to stay far, far away from you right now.

You feel Josh at your side as you shake your jacket free of the residual rain and beeline toward the elevator, daring someone to even try and talk to you.

“Jake, baby, I’ll see you upstairs?” Isla asks from across the lobby as Lyla pulls her to the hotel bar. “We’re just having one drink.” You nod at her and wave her off, not really giving a fuck. Your mind is still rushing with those horrible thoughts of revenge, and you tell yourself that it would be the most delicious thing right now, to get a taste of retaliation and forbidden fruit at the same time. It’s fucking dirty and you know it, but it makes the thought all the more alluring.

“Hey, asshole, do not do what I think you’re gonna do…” you hear Josh in your ear as you step onto the elevator, Ty right behind him.

“Yeah, Jake, we saw them going to the parking garage too, I know you’re fucking seething with jealousy right now, but do not do this…” Ty agrees as you press the button for your floor repeatedly.

You cross your arms in front of you, staring up at the ceiling as you ignore them. Your skin is absolutely freezing, but it’s almost as if you can’t even feel it, completely numb physically and emotionally.

“I’m going to do whatever I fucking want,” you say, keeping monotone.

“Jake, I know you think that this is a good idea right now, but I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow and find out you fucking slept with her–” Josh grits in your ear, and you know he will probably make your life a living hell. But in all actuality, he doesn’t have to know shit.

The elevator dings for your floor, and you make a quick exit, leaving the two of them without another glance. “Night.”

You make a mad dash to your room, ripping your wet clothes off and changing into a pair of loose black sweatpants, forgoing a shirt. You make your way to the mini bar, grabbing two bottles of tequila and a cup, deciding to dig into the half-melted ice in the bucket from earlier in the day. You crack them open and pour them over the melted ice, drinking down half of it in one swallow.

What the fuck are you even thinking?

Suddenly Isla bursts back into the room, and that one drink at the bar must have ended pretty quickly, as she still had the bar glass full in her hand. “Heyyyyy baby!” she gloats with a hiccup. “I couldn’t wait any more, I wanted to come back up here with you…”

You recline back in your spot on the bed, grabbing your phone to mindlessly scroll as you attempt to ignore her. You’re going to fight this tooth and nail…

She begins dancing around the room, sipping her drink as she does. She’s singing a familiar tune, and it only takes you a few seconds to recognize it as a Keys song from tonight. You pay a little bit more attention, noticing that she isn’t singing any of the words correctly.

“Isla, get the words right, or don’t sing it at all. You’re insulting them,” you say, cutting your eyes at her.

She scoffs, “Ugh, at least I’m trying, their music just… was never really my cup of tea.”

You nearly choke on your own tongue. “Uh excuse me? They’ve been one of my biggest influences for the past ten years, all I fucking play and you don’t even like their music? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorrrrrry!” She falls onto the bed belly first, giggling at herself as she bounces. “They’re just kind of boring, I guess.”

If you weren’t insulted by the wrong lyrics, you’re fucking insulted now. No wonder things aren’t working out between the two of you. You toss back another drink of your liquor, resorting back to your phone to occupy you. Images of Murph and Y/N litter your mind again, and the envy piles back up in your chest, wondering what the hell they are doing right now. How fucking could she? And how the fuck could he?? His job is to come here and work for you, not galavant around with his coworkers…

Your eyes are caught watching the same video on repeat when Isla stands back up and pulls her shirt over her head, tossing it to her bag in the corner. You can't help but let your eyes drift, watching as she pulls her tight skirt down, revealing her perfectly proportioned body in a matching deep purple lace set. You swallow as you watch her move, running her hands over her body as she adjusts the thong, then as she runs her hands through her long tousled hair.

Fuck, look away.

She turns, her left hand lightly cupping her breast as she faces you completely, hardly paying you any mind as she lifts her drink to her lips again. She slowly sits on the edge of the bed, running her hand over her legs in an attempt to warm herself up. “That was a really good show though, wasn’t it Jake?” she asks, her eyes flicking to you for just a second as the remnants of her red lipstick stick to the white straw. “I see why you love them so much, and I’m sorry I never paid much attention before. ‘M gonna download a bunch of their songs right now…”

Your nose scrunches up in disbelief. She what?

“Yeah um, they’re excellent. Been around a really long time,” you agree, clearing your throat as you speak. She tilts her drink back a little as she nears the bottom of it, scrolling on her phone as she plays the beginnings of the Keys most popular songs. She stretches her neck as she listens and bobs her head, adding the songs to her playlist as she goes. Your eyes can’t help but wander again, taking in the shape of her back and legs, once all yours for the taking.

Her lingerie looks familiar, but you don’t want to let your eyes sit too long to figure out why. She stands and flips the lamp by the bed off, placing her empty glass on the nightstand. She lays down beside you, still completely invested in her phone and her music, humming along to the songs as she plays them.

For a second, things feel like they did a year ago, the two of you in a comfortable silence as you minded your own business, just happy to be in each others’ presence. No arguing, no yelling, just listening to music and being near one another.

It feels… nice.

She’s ignoring you altogether now, watching the videos she took tonight as she smiles and laughs at them, sending a few to Mia and Lyla.

Her hair is so long that the ends of it are tickling your arm, sending a little bit of a chill through your body. Your eyes begin to blur from the straight tequila, a familiar warmth coming through your veins. Suddenly memories come flowing back of the last time you saw her in that set, your brain racking with visions of her trying to take it off, but you making her leave it on.

You feel a wave of anxiousness shoot through you as her eyes pop to yours, catching you looking at her. “What are you looking at, Jacob?” she asks flatly.

“Nothing,” you reply, your eyes shooting back to your phone.

“Doesn’t look like nothing…” she grins, her eyes going back to her phone, too.

Before you can stop the words, they fall freely from your mouth. “Why did you wear that under your dress tonight?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “I dunno, it has good memories attached to it. Was hoping you’d take it off of me… You bought it for me for our anniversary last year, remember?”

Ah, that’s why it’s so familiar.

“Oh yeah, I remember,” you reply, and suddenly you remember a lot more from that night. Dinner and drinks had turned into a wild night, both of you passing out on the couch completely nude after not having made it back to the bed, at all.

“But, that didn’t happen,” she goes on, “I didn’t wanna waste it again, so I’m just wearing it for myself.” Her voice is light and airy, the complete opposite of what it normally is these days. The normal weight that sits above the two of you suddenly feels like a cloud full of sunlight, and you can’t lie, your sex-starved mind is having trouble taking your eyes off of her as her thumb mindlessly runs along the front seam of her thong.

She crosses one of her legs over the other as they’re bent up on the bed, her finger still scrolling through old Keys albums as she listens to her snippets, tapping her foot along in the air as the music plays. What the fuck, Jake? Get it together… Tooth and nail, remember? Tooth. And. Nail.

Just like she can read your mind, her free hand comes up and begins drifting over her skin, tickling herself just like she always does when she starts to get sleepy. You watch as her red fingernails lightly dust over her thighs and stomach, then along the side of her tit as she continues to ignore your existence, all the while you have begun to fight for your life through the lust that’s unabashedly coursing through your body. Ignore it Jake…

But the lust is too strong, and your need for revenge is greater than giving a fuck about the repercussions. Hell, Y/N is probably naked and under Murph right now, what do you have to lose? You remember the look Danny gave you at the show after Murph whispered in his ear, and the text that he sent you shortly thereafter that simply said ‘Yeah, it’s what you think’. She ignored you all day, your text at the show, won’t even give you the time or a second glance… Everything is fucked anyway…

Isla is still relaxed across the bed, slurping at the melted ice in the bottom of her glass without a care. Is she really ignoring you right now? After being so persistent the past few days, what switched?

Her fingers are still drifting, her tits sitting perfectly in the purple lace cups, and your hands begin to remember what they feel like when you squeezed them, that deep-rooted feeling of desire burning hot in your belly and chest. God damnit…

She moans a little yawn as she switches her crossed leg, obviously making a spectacle of her own body, but you swear on your life, she doesn’t seem to be doing it on purpose. She truly looks like she’s just laying and relaxing in her own little world on her phone. This is your old Isla. You hear another laugh fall from her lips as she’s now switched to texting in a group with Mia and Lyla, completely uncaring that you can fully see her screen. The sound is like music to your intoxicated ears, reminding you of all the times you would make her make that sound. When you would make her make even better sounds.

Truly, sex was never your issue. It came so naturally to the two of you that it felt habitual but in a good way, leaving little to discuss because you each knew the other's body so intimately, so perfectly. You feel your dick hardening in your jeans as you try to distract your thoughts, but also, why should you?

Just then, Isla sets her glass back down, turning her body to face you with her hand tucked up under her cheek. “Do you wish these were your hands on me, Jake? I can feel your eyes...”

You swallow harshly as you’re caught. “Maybe,” you growl.

She giggles, leaning in closely as her lips drift across yours. You feel her essence take over your senses, remembering the smell of her like it was yesterday. The intoxicating feeling of her body on yours when you weren’t screaming at each other tumbling back from its place in your memory box. Her hand drifts up to grip in your roots, pulling your face further into her, but not yet making contact.

You’re breathless as you watch her eyes scan yours, her brow furrowed as she tries to read you. Your chest is tight and your limbs are frozen in place. You feel like you’re unable to think as you decide on your next move. Your body wants to pick her up and bend her over, rip her thong to the side and fuck her into the headboard until she’s screaming your name… but your mind is begging you to stay away. Back out now. Run so far away that you get lost.

But the devil on your shoulder begins to win the fight as your body betrays you, your head leaning in to finally let your lips make contact with hers. Her grip on your hair tightens as she kisses you back, her tongue already diving deep into your mouth. You bite it, pulling on it with force before switching to holding it with your lips, popping it before you dive right back in.

Motherfucker she tastes so good, the cold tequila still very much present on her lips.

The both of you are ravenous once contact is made, your arms wrapping around her to lie her back into the pillows, giving you a bit more control as your hands begin to explore her body.

Fuck, this is so wrong. This is such a bad goddamned idea. Stop, just stop now, while you’re ahead…

But she tastes like fucking honey. And your dick is throbbing. And she’s so familiar, and gorgeous, and begging for you to fuck her…

She whimpers into your mouth as your hand drifts down to grip her tit, ripping the fabric away as your fingers pinch at her nipple, rolling it between your thumb and pointer finger. The sound alone makes your dick twitch in your pants, and all you can imagine is her hand on you, pulling you free from the confines of your boxers. Your hand moves from her tit to her side, gripping your fingertips into it as you move down to her hip, your mouths still fighting each other for dominance.

You press down on her hip with force, making one of her knees bend up. Your hand brushes across her stomach and down to her cunt, her body already bucking itself up into your touch and you haven’t even given it to her yet. You break away from the kiss, panting and sweating with blind lust as you look into her eyes, deep and dark as she bites her swollen lips together.

Finally she gives you what you want, her hand reaching between you to brush over your dick, hard as rock under her hand. “Hm, still get hard for me, huh Jacob? I knew you did–”

You silence her quickly with a harsh hand over her mouth blocking any more words from escaping. You pause, giving her a look so menacing you think it might scare her off, but instead, you feel her smile under it. She undoes the button of your jeans with one quick motion, letting her hand dive inside your jeans and boxers, finding your cock with ease. You inhale sharply at the feeling of her grip, your jaw tightening down as you continue to press your hand on her mouth. She pulls your waistband down with her other hand as your dick springs free, bobbing and grazing the inside of her leg.

Her hand travels to tease the tip, lightly tickling over it as your eyes begin to roll back. Her eyebrows raise in question, and you know exactly what she’s thinking, the conniving–

You thrust into her hand, your entire self burning with desire to fill her up, but your hand presses on her mouth harder. Her leg falls to the side even more as your free hand reaches down to grip yourself, running it over the fabric of her thong. Her eyes close quickly as you tease her back, pushing the head of your dick against her opening, already drenched through the lace.

You kiss her again, but only once before breaking away. Your finger hooks in the seam of her thong, pulling it to the side as you use your hand to guide yourself into her, slowly, so fucking painfully slowly…

“You don’t say a mother fucking word about this to anyone, you hear me?” you ask quietly as you hold eye contact, your hand still covering her mouth. “No one knows.”

You stupid idiot motherfucker.

Your hand is still gripped on your shaft as you circle around her entrance, still only allowing yourself a few centimeters of access. “Do you hear me?” you ask, of which she responds with a quick nod.

“If you want me to fuck you, say yes… but if I hear of you sharing this with even fucking Lyla, I swear to god…”

You pull your hand away from her mouth for long enough to hear her speak. “Yes, Jake, please… I promise, it’s our secret… no one has to know…” she pleads, and you know she could be lying, but you’re already in this far. “Please, baby I need to feel you…” Finally, against every voice screaming at you in the back of your mind, you let your hips press into her all the way, her leg flying out to the side as her head tilts back into the pillows. “Ahhhh, oh my god oh my god baby…” she groans as you bottom out, and you have to admit, she still feels fucking perfect wrapped around you. One of the best you have ever fucking had.

Your mind is racing with thoughts so fast you can hardly see straight, the liquor definitely doing its job in assisting your lust. You pull out, your dick completely drenched with her wetness, before pushing back in again. You want to take it slow, enjoy every single second of your revenge, but on the other hand you want to get this over with. You know you’ve already made a grave mistake.

You maneuver yourself to place both hands on either side of her head, hovering over her completely now as her hands latch on to your sides, pulling you further into her. “God baby, harder, please…” she begs.

You tap her lips with your fingertips. “Shh. Quiet, remember?”

She nods accordingly, biting her lips to keep herself from screaming out. You place both of your knees between her legs as you sit back a little bit, taking in the blurry sight of her. So gorgeous and perfect just like you remember. Just as your eyes hit where the two of your bodies are connected, she reaches down with both hands, pulling her lips apart even further for you. The visual is enough to make you want to cum right then and there, and you groan loudly as you press into her again, a new sensation as her hands make her opening even tighter for you.

“Jacob, baby, I thought we were being quiet?” she says, biting into your shoulder.

You breathe a displeased huff as her teeth dig into your muscle, causing you to want to choke out another moan of pleasure. She knows exactly what she’s doing. You pick up with pace for real now, holding on to the back of the headboard as you lift one of her legs to bend to her chest, and wrapping the other one around your waist. You begin pounding into her with a force so dramatic the headboard is beating against the wall, but you could care less.

She’s still biting her lips, trying her best to hold her sounds in, but then again, you’re having a hard time, too. God, this feels so fucking good. But it doesn’t feel right. Not in the least. Your guilt is starting to sink in as you look down at Isla’s gorgeous face begging to scream your name, all the while imagining Y/N doing the same for you, not that long ago.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. Your body has rejected you, your mind isn’t as strong as you thought. The most devastating mistake you could ever make is happening right now in real time, and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re not going to make it out alive.

Isla gushes around you as you feel her body tightening, her nails gripping into your sides as she makes her marks on you. She reaches behind your neck, pulling you down to her. You release your grip on the headboard and follow her guidance. “C’mere, baby, want you down here with me where I can see you, where I can feel you. Missed you so bad… wanted us again for so long. Fuck, you feel so goddamn good inside of me, baby…” she whispers, still following your instruction of being quiet. Her words were always the cherry on top of her already top-notch fucking, and you halfway consider flipping her to let her ride you, but you avoid the thought.

You slow things down as her hand still stays rested between you, the other still pulling at your hair drifting down into your face. You feel her hand move between you, massaging her clit as you begin to roll your hips at a slower pace. “What, I’m not enough for you?” you ask, swiping her hand away and taking over the motion yourself.

Isla laughs. “No, just wanted you to take that job over for me,” she smirks with a satisfied smile. Fuck, she did it again. You can feel her wetness all over your hand as you continue your languid swipes into her, your thumb working her up even more, now. The sounds that fill the room are wet and smacking, making the high you’re reaching for all the more craveable. She feels fucking perfect. But, you know that she is not.

Your hand covers her mouth again as her moans become closer and closer together, her eyes closing as her jaw falls open. You know she’s close, but you’re not going to let anyone hear the commotion if they happen to come knocking on your door.

“Gonna come, Jake… baby–” she says from behind your hand, and you feel her whole body tensing and tightening as her orgasm washes over her, her nails digging roughly into your sides. And the feeling of her coming apart beneath you for what had to be the thousandth time, finally feels like what would be the last.

Her pathetic sounds make you begin to throb inside her, and you know you’ll be following closely behind in a matter of seconds. You release your hold on her mouth as you steady yourself, your hands gripping hard into the sheets as the white light hits your eyes.

Jake, no.

At the very last second, you pull away from her, taking yourself in your hand and pumping a few times before you let yourself go, coating her stomach and legs with your release.

The both of you breathe through the comedowns, sweaty and panting as the reality of what just happened sets in. You hop up to get her a towel, returning to help her wipe herself clean.

“You could have, you know…” she says with disappointment.

You shake your head as you toss the rag to the floor and lay back down again, still out of breath. “No. I couldn’t have. How would I know if you skipped a pill or something?”

“Jake, I would never–”

“You wouldn’t? Are you sure about that?” you ask, proud of yourself for not making that mistake.

She stays quiet as she avoids eye contact with you. “You’re probably not even on it anymore, are you?” you ask. She solemnly shakes her head.

“Made me sick.”

You nod, knowing that that wasn’t a conversation that would have been appropriate at all in the past few months.

“This goes nowhere but in this bedroom, Isla, please promise me. You understand?” you ask. “It was a moment of weakness. This doesn’t change anything about where we stand.”

She sniffles her nose clear. “It changes nothing, huh?”

You swallow, finding the courage to speak on this once and for all. Finding a clear and level head like you’d never found it before. “Nothing.”

And it truly didn’t. You still feel the exact same. Though your bodies mesh so perfectly that it’s a sin in itself to go unacted upon, you know that the toxicity would come creeping back, just like it always does. It’s time to wash your hands clean.

“Do you still love me, Jake? Even a little bit?”

You shake your head. “No, Isla. It’s gone.”

—

HER POV

You roll over to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, your hair a mess over your eyes as the sunlight beams onto your face. You sit up in a hurry, the memories of last night coming back into your mind one by one. Ezra’s room. You calm a little as you brush the strands from your eyes, huffing a breath of relief as you search around the room for him, but you come up short.

The bathroom light is off, and you notice that his boots are not by the door. You glance to the clock to find it still fairly early, your call time not for another hour. There, laying on the nightstand by the clock, is a folded piece of white paper with your name written on the front in scribbled pen. You pick it up and unfold it, finding it to be the receipt from the place you’d grabbed a late, greasy dinner with Murph at a place by the hotel last night. He’d insisted that you eat, even though you both were a soaked, freezing, post-sex mess.

Mornin’ sunshine

Couldn’t wake you, you looked too damn pretty

Had a great time with you last night

The boys are gonna have a hard time knockin this smile off my face today

But I won’t tell them why : )

The breakfast downstairs ain’t my momma’s, but it’s close

See you later on baby

-Ezra

You swoon at the fact he left you a love note to wake up to, and you fold it back up, tucking it perfectly into your purse that lied on the floor by the bed. Your mood has instantly changed, and you’d almost completely forgotten about the dramatics that Jake decided to add to the evening with his text and song addition last night.

He looked absolutely miserable. You know that his hands on Isla were just to piss you off and attempt to make you jealous, and they did to an extent, but really all it did was make you feel even worse for him. You know that if you hadn’t been standing there with Murph, he would have been enjoying the show with his brothers, one hand stuffed in his pocket and not wrapped around Isla’s waist in a petty attempt to jab at you.

Poor guy, honestly. Maybe you were too harsh on him in the gym. But damn, if it doesn’t feel like all Jake does is try to explain himself to you. Maybe one last try. One last go around of hearing his side of things…

You pick up your phone seeing a slew of notifications, but what you can’t seem to shake away is the song on repeat in your mind. The one he added to tell you how he feels. He doesn’t want to fight. Hell, you don’t want to fight either. It’s been exhausting. You toss your phone onto the bed as you run your fingers through your hair, deciding that against your better judgment you want to give Jake one more shot, one more chance to clear things up. You’ve got to be an adult about this, your job depends on it.

You make yourself look presentable, brushing your teeth and throwing on something more appropriate as you snatch a keycard from the dresser.

You know Isla will be in there with him, but she is going to give you a minute to speak to Jake. You have just as much dog in this fight as she does, given that Jake and everyone else has been telling you the truth about their relationship for all this time. You had somewhat of a relationship with him, too. And if you’re going to continue to work professionally by his side, you’re clearing it up. Now.

You make a quick pit stop in the downstairs lobby, grabbing not two, but three coffees and a handful of sugar packets. Peace offering. Like adults.

You rush back upstairs and knock a few times on his door, stepping back to gain your confidence to ask him to speak privately in the hall. No emotions, no ties. Just a chance to clear the air, that’s all you really want.

You hear a commotion behind the door and a high-pitched giggle that you instantly recognize. Suddenly the door swings open, revealing a scantily-clad Isla, her body wrapped up in the bed sheets that are hardly doing enough to cover her barren chest and legs. Oh. A quick glance behind her shows Jake in almost the same attire, sitting anxiously on the edge of the bed as he tries to cover himself.

Fucking shit.

You watch as his eyes fall shut and his face grimaces, knowing that this is the worst possible way they could have been caught. And that’s exactly what you did. You fucking caught them.

“Oh, hey, we didn’t order room service… Jake already ate plenty last night, but thanks anyway,” Isla smirks a harsh wink at you as she attempts to pull the sheet more tightly around her before slamming the door in your face.

Tears are already filling your eyes as you set the coffees down on the floor, rushing back off toward the elevator as quickly as you can. That was the last fucking thing you thought you’d see this morning.

Your breath is catching in your throat as you pace, and you hear the faint sound of Jake’s voice yelling after you as you get closer to your destination. You ignore it, but hear it and his footsteps getting closer. Fuck him, fuck all of this.

Finally you reach the metal doors, pressing the button over and over and over until it finally springs open and you step inside, watching the image of Jake running down the hall toward you, your name falling from his lips as the doors cut him off. You hear his fists bang on the cold metal before it takes off on its descent, leaving your heart to plummet to the ground right along with it.

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