#I was reminded of a conversation I had with a friend

[dokyumms]

operation: hug me

pairing: woozi x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.3k

cw: none? reader staying on that only-sleeping-with-a-stuffed-animal agenda, way too much backstory bc i yap

a/n: hey kings, writing this instead of a request as a late bday gift to my moot @lavoilee!! not sure who ur svt bias is so i chose randomly lolol, hope you enjoy!! getting back to doing requests in shorter amounts of time, i just had a hard time thinking of smth good for this haha

jihoon is a weird guy.

okay, let's rephrase that: he's been acting like a weird guy. you can't tell if he's mad at you or in love with you, and you're determined to find out what's up.

it all started one afternoon at a café with your friend. you were both chatting around, just catching up. as both of you sipped on your coffees, the topic had gone from work, to gossip, to... medical check ups?

"how've you been sleeping? 'cause i sure have not been sleeping well," she'd asked randomly, widening her eyes in exasperation and taking another sip of her drink.

"hasn't been that great for me either," you sighed truthfully, recalling the sleepless nights you'd been having since jihoon had been on tour and started promotions for his comeback right after. you were truly proud of him, but it sure did suck not having him to hold onto when he would stay at the studio for the night.

your friend giggled, "why? because your 'jihoonie' hasn't been home?" she teased, mocking the name you accidentally called him while she was over at your place a couple months ago. "oh my god, stop it." you slapped her on the shoulder.

"you know i'm right, though." she teased again, wavering when you glared at her. "okay, okay, but i'm being serious. i remember when my boyfriend went on a business trip i was up all night," she exaggerated, rolling her eyes when you raised an eyebrow at her "up all night as in tossing and turning till my alarm went off. anyways, i ended up buying a stuffed animal to replace him, and it worked! maybe i should start using that again..."

"hm, maybe that'll help," you pondered, writing a reminder to search for one before another conversation began to sprout out of your friend.

that evening, you spent yet another restless night looking through the internet, finally settling on a moderately sized stuffed animal of a black cat after a couple hours of searching. after typing down your (jihoon's) credit card number, your phone vibrated with a call from your boyfriend.

you set your laptop aside and accepted the call, "hoon?"

"hey, babe. um, na pd just kidnapped us again- i'm going to be in france for a week. i'm really sorry, i promise you i didn't know about it till today..."

it took everything in your power not to let out a sigh, but he seemed to tell.

"i understand if you're mad or suspicious, hell, i'd be too. let me facetime you so i can show you that i'm really being kidnapped."

you hummed in response, accepting the facetime call that popped up on your phone not a second later. it was laggy for sure, but you could tell he was at an airport and that hoshi and wonwoo were seated next to him. they both waved happily.

"sorry he couldn't be home y/n! don't get too mad at him- hey!" hoshi called, yelping when wonwoo slapped him.

"ignore him, you should be as mad as you please." wonwoo smiled before hoshi pounced on him. jihoon turned the camera back to him.

"yeah, that's how it's been going. i'll call you as often as i can, okay? i'll make it up to you somehow."

ugh, you couldn't be mad at that, so holding back a sigh, you put on the most undisappointed smile you could muster. "it's okay jihoon, have fun okay? send me lots of photos."

he smiled back, "okay, i love you. and it's late, go to sleep soon, please." he finally said, waiting for you to say it back before he waved a goodbye and hung up.

you flopped back on the couch in disappointment- another week of this? could you even take more of it? "at least i could put that thing to use," you thought as sleep finally began to take over.

two days later, you opened a brown box to reveal a vacuum sealed black blob. you wondered if you got scammed after cutting the plastic off to reveal a slightly less smushed black blob with cat ears. nonetheless, it was too late to return it now, so you just went on with your day, abandoning it in your room.

when you came back that evening, however, you were greeted by the cat you were promised in all of its stuffed glory. now that it was inflated, you could see that the money paid had been worth it. happy with your purchase, you quickly took a shower and got ready for bed.

by 11pm, you were in bed, wrapping up a facetime call with jihoon as the stuffed animal laid besides you. you were both saying your goodbyes when he noticed it next to you.

"did you get a cat?"

you let out a confused noise before looking around you to find the cat he was referring to.

"this? no, it's just a stuffed animal," you explained, holding up the cat plush and waving it in the camera.

"ah, i see. why'd you get it?"

"oh, you know... just to help..." you answered sheepishly in embarrassment. he raised an eyebrow at your answer then simply nodded.

"hm, well.. enjoy it while it lasts. goodnight to you, love you." he said quickly, hanging up right after, leaving you confused with a hand still on the cat.

"enjoy it while it lasts? how weird." you mumbled, sending a quick message in confusion before laying down. it was weird; with the stuffed animal underneath your arms, the bed all of the sudden seemed more comfortable, and a sudden feeling of coziness filled you. you felt less alone.

and before you were able to silence your phone, turn on white noise, everything you normally did to help you sleep, you were passed out.

so, with the success of that night, you began to sleep with it everyday. it really did seem to work, and you made a mental note to thank your friend when you saw her again.

before you knew it, it was the night before jihoon was said to return to korea. you sent him a message, telling him you were going to sleep and laid down with your newfound cuddle buddy. you wrapped your arms around the cat, and fell sound asleep within minutes.

this is where the weirdness began.

you woke up, stirring to the sound of your door opening to find jihoon in the room, suitcase in one hand and wearing a weird expression. it was weirdly neutral, yet still made you uneasy. he looked... mad?

"hoon? you said you weren't coming back till tomorrow.." you murmured. "why do you look like that?"

"look like what?"

"you look mad" you said truthfully, rubbing your eye to get a better look at him.

"i'm not mad? i think you're still sleepy." he said, walking over and joining you on the bed. he tried to get closer to you but was blocked by something. "what's this?"

"i told you, i got a stuffed animal." you answered sleepily holding it up in front of him. "hm, well you don't need it." he said, grabbing it and tossing it across the room.

"hey, be nice to juni."

"you named it??"

"yeah, so what. meanie." you told him, turning away from him. you weren't actually mad, about 5 seconds away from turning back around to hug him, but he sighed before you could do anything. he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around you and somehow getting (more like manhandling) you to turn around.

"babe, i'm sorry. i missed you a lot. i don't know why i threw the cat- i mean juni." he apologized sincerely before nuzzling into your neck, throwing you completely off guard.

you had not meant for him to take your 'sulking' seriously, and also, you two had never cuddled like this, with him being the little spoon. it wasn't that you minded, but jihoon was never big on physical affection in the first place, so it was odd, but nonetheless, you accepted it.

"hoonie, it's fine. i don't care about it that much," you giggled, stroking his hair. "i'm just glad you're home, you came earlier than i thought." you commented. he nodded in response. "just wanted to surprise you." is all he said, snuggling into you further before knocking out.

the only problem was that after about a week of sleeping with the cat, it sort of became a habit, so the same thing happened for the next 3 days. you would fall asleep with the cat, wake up to jihoon looking mad at you, and then he would start cuddling with you as if he was a whole different person.

which leads you to now.

instead of consulting with him like a normal person, you decide to go to your friend, the same one who suggested getting the stuffed animal in the first place.

"isn't it obvious?" she says after hearing your story. you're both at the same café, sipping the same drinks and everything. you look at her in confusion. "if it was obvious, i don't think i'd be asking? come on, just tell me." you plead, desperate to get your boyfriend to stop scaring you in the middle of the night.

"fine, fine. i'll tell you... he obviously wants you to cuddle with him!"

"yeah, that's what we've been doing. for the past 4 years we've been dating" you deadpan, but she just rolls her eyes at you. "okay yeah, but not like that." she explains, rolling her eyes again when you're dumbfounded.

"he wants you to cuddle with him like how you cuddle that cat! duh! is that not how you hug it or what?" she exaggerates, nearly standing up at how oblivious you are. you take a minute to think back to the last couple nights.

huh, maybe she's right (again? seriously, you got to stop boosting her ego). you normally slept with the stuffed animal with it tucked under your head, was jihoon really jealous of that? come to think of it, he'd always been the big spoon, but it's not like you two had assigned roles to each other or anything, so why would he wait so long just for you to cuddle with him like that? must be some weird double standard bullshit.

anyways, now you have a plan. the goal? to get jihoon to admit his fears once and for all (and partially for him to stop looking at you weirdly in the middle of the night).

when you get home, jihoon's passed out on the couch. not a problem. you go along with your day, finish some coursework, and then get ready for bed. essentially, you do everything you'd do on a normal day, but when it's time for bed, you call out for your boyfriend.

"jihoon! shouldn't you go shower?" you ask. he groans from the living room, shuffling around before entering the bedroom, opening some drawers and pulling out random clothes from it. "i'll be back soon," he says, entering the bathroom. "i'll wait for you～" you sing song back.

only 15 minutes later, he's walking out of the bathroom in his usual sleep wear, no shirt and black shorts. if this had been around 4 years ago when you started living together, you would've gawked at the sight, but by now you were used to it (more like, you learned how to control your reaction).

you put down your phone and watch intently as he walks over. "why are you looking at me like that-" he's cut off mid-question when you drag him onto the bed as soon as he's close enough.

he lands with an 'oomph' and you use all your strength to pull him so he's tucked into you. you honestly think he's going to pop straight back up, but he doesn't, simply complying and cuddling closer to you.

"do you like this?" you ask, holding him close. he seems taken aback; his breath hitches against your neck, and there's a long silence before he answers. "um..."

"i knew it! why didn't you just say so baby?" you say, almost teasingly. he groans, but doesn't push back. if anything, he gets closer, trying to hide the obvious flush that starts to spread across his face. you don't tease him any further, deciding he's embarrassed enough, and simply continue to hold him in a comfortable silence.

"but seriously, why didn't you tell me? i have no problem with it." you ask after a while, looking down to check if he's even awake when a minute passes without an answer. he looks up at you shyly before explaining.

"i didn't even know i liked it until i came home and saw you hugging that thing, really. i guess i was jealous of it? i couldn't tell until i was in that position and realized that i enjoyed it. it felt weird to ask for it, so i just waited till you were.. dazed? god, that sounds bad." he says, putting his head down at the last sentence.

you laugh, "what?? i didn't know you were so evil my hoonie." you tease, letting him break free from your grasp and use juni to smack you in the face. and you decide you're not taking that, so a pillow fight breaks out, except he's still clutching onto the cat with his life, not letting it go as he swings at you. before long, you both give up, landing on the bed, sweating and hearts pounding.

you're both laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. "wow, it's really been awhile since i did that." he comments, turning his head at you. maybe that's only something you hear in movies, but you don't care. "come over here, you sappy guy."

he listens, rolling over and letting you tuck him into your chest. "your sappy guy, right?" he asks, voice vibrating against you.

"my sappy guy? maybe i should've been doing this from the start-" and he's hitting you again.

[rhyrhy]

Tryouts!

𖤐 Synopsis: Abby Anderson, known for her carefree reputation, finds herself drawn to a no-nonsense cheerleader. What starts as harmless flirting takes a sharp left into chaos, featuring bruised egos, unresolved baggage, As tensions rise, the real question remains—can the two of you move past first impressions?

[Content Warnings:] MDNI, angst, modern AU, sexual tension, fuckboy quarterback Abby x mean cheerleader reader, angst/smut, gays who can’t communicate. Intoxication, Cringe: Abby with zero rizz.

࿔ A/N: back from vacation with a little something Based on this drabble. I know this trope has been run into the ground, but let’s be real—the gay version of everything is always better

Index (on going)

Prologue: “how to ruin a party in 30 seconds or less” 3k words

Chapter 1: “denial is a team sport”

How to Ruin a Party in 30 Seconds or Less

“Fuckboy, player, heartbreaker.”

She’d heard it all—each insult more cliché than the last.

Abby never set out to be any of those things. It just kind of… happened. She came out later than most, stumbling through her sexuality, unsure how to carry it at first. It felt heavier than the 203 pounds she could deadlift. In high school, dating was a formality—one guy, no real connection.

It wasn’t until college that it clicked: she’d never felt right with them because she wasn’t meant to. Most labels felt strange, even suffocating. “Lesbian” felt too big, too official, so she avoided saying it aloud for as long as possible—unsure if it would even roll off her tongue correctly.

Then came her first real relationship. It ended before it even began. She wasn’t ready, fumbling through the emotional part, ghosting before things got too serious. After that, she stuck to what she did best: keeping things light. Hookups were easier than messy emotions. They didn’t ask for much, and she didn’t have to give anything away. Eventually, the reputation followed. At first, she snapped back at teammates’ jokes, but in time she learned to laugh it off. Honestly? It wasn’t entirely wrong.

Now, she wore what she used to fear as a second skin. Attending her dream school, she earned pats on the back from a team she’d only ever dreamed of joining. Sweat beaded on her forehead after every game—a reminder of how far she’d come. This was her paradise.

But deep down, Abby knew she was just dodging the real issue. She wasn’t afraid of commitment; she was afraid of feeling something for someone and not knowing what to do with it. And so, she remained safely in her own world.

But you? You didn’t get it. How could this possibly be enjoyable?

Sitting in the middle of a frat party, you longed to go home, wash your makeup off, and collapse onto your sheets. You hated events like these—especially when sober. The booming bass, the humid, sticky air, the blinding lights, and worse—the clumsy chaos of students. You never understood why you let your friends drag you here. But as part of the cheer team, skipping meant endless group-chat nagging—and you never were in the mood for that.

Throwing a ball around or getting tackled by girls twice your size wasn’t your thing. But ponytails, the rustle of pompoms, and the feeling of wind with every toe touch—that was your world.

Your best friend and team captain, Dina, who had held your hand through every drill, every first shave in middle school, and your recent breakup, was nowhere to be seen.

After settling in the living room, you figured a joint would help you zone out until Dina—and the rest of your ride—showed up. At some point, you found yourself face-to-face with the campus’ one and only Abby Anderson.

She’d been throwing looks all night, a silent challenge that told you everything: Abby was a well-known player, and the rumors weren’t flattering. Kissing and quitting? Not your scene. You’d crossed paths before—mostly during warm-ups on the field—but tonight, she slunk onto the couch beside you and started a conversation as if it were casual banter. Of course, it was calculated—but you indulged her, if only a little.

You were not interested.

Not after Valeria Martinez paraded you around as her girl, making sure everyone knew you weren’t the only one. Learning it all from some stupid “expose” page run by an idiot with too much time—it had been a sapphic nightmare. You’d poured your heart into routines and performances, trying to block out the frown that threatened to appear every time you entered the locker room. You’d held back soft sobs over a girl who played you like a fiddle—a bench-warming football player who couldn’t even find your clit.

So no. You were absolutely not interested in going through that again.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Yet, unknowingly, you were judging Abby—a 6’0-something force of nature—entirely by her cover. If you’d looked closer—if you’d seen beyond the cool exterior—you’d know that Abby had her own routine. The gym, practice, study, sleep… it kept her sane. It gave her focus. And it worked… until you.

Until freshman move-in day, when she first saw you and dismissed you as just another pretty face. But then she found herself lingering on your social media, scrolling a little too long, just… staring at certain pictures. When she saw her teammates following you after the breakup with Martinez, her upper lip twitched in unknowing irritation.

She avoided you after that—pretended you didn’t exist—because it was easier than facing how you made her heart hammer against her ribs. The way she wanted you, even if you didn’t notice. But last night, she told herself, fuck it. If you weren’t going to make a move, she would.

A few jokes, a couple of lingering glances, and then—her fingers found their way under your chin, tilting your face toward hers. Your breath hitched. Her grip was firm, yet gentle enough for you to pull away if you dared. Almost as if she was testing you.

So close—just inches away. The heat radiating off her body, the defined collarbones peeking through the neckline of her jersey. Her gaze roamed over your features, as if she were committing them to memory, and when her blue eyes locked onto yours, you couldn’t look away.

The music pulsed around you, shifting, The slower beat stretched the moment, making it feel eternal. You didn’t move—why would you? She was convinced you’d fold like every other girl who caved under her size 10 cleats. But you weren’t going to. You couldn’t.

You were almost certain that if she closed the gap, you’d kiss her back. And that? That would be a problem. Because if she did, you’d pull her closer until the only thing you could smell was her.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and leaned back, your hair spraying across the sofa as you broke the moment.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Abby chuckled, her ego slightly bruised as her hand dropped from your chin. She punctuated it with a dramatic lip smack.

“Because I don’t want to fuck you?” you said, taking a slow drag from your joint. “Or because I’m not entertaining you?”

“Shit, both.” She shrugged, mentally slapping herself. She knew she’d come on too strong, and now she worried you might not even be into her type. So she doubled down.

“Especially the first one,” she added, dragging her eyes down your outfit before flicking them back up.

“Gross,” you scoffed, dismissing her further.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Abby huffed, tossing her head back against the couch. A beat of silence passed before she turned to you again.

“What’s your deal, anyway? You a prude? Because I know you aren’t straight.”

“What if I’m just not interested?” you shot back.

Her lips twitched, and she tilted her head as she studied you. “You aren’t?” Her voice was laced with challenge, and something in that tone made your heart thud. You hesitated—silence stretching uncomfortably as your uniform suddenly felt too tight.

Abby hummed and turned her head to the front. “Sure you aren’t,” she murmured, half-expecting you to correct her, half-expecting you to confirm her suspicion. When nothing came, she pressed on.

“So,” she said, her tone infuriatingly calm, “what’s your major? Or are you just here to shake your little pom-poms?”

You furrowed your brows at her comment before realizing you were still in uniform. A laugh burst out as you replied with your major. “And I won’t be shaking anything, thank you.” You added, taking another slow drag.

That got her attention. She tilted her head back for a once-over, arching an eyebrow. Testing your major like it was a word on her tongue, she paused and studied your face. “Nerdy,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh, I’m sorry—would you rather me throw a ball around all day?” you huffed, rolling your eyes.

“Aww, you jealous, sweetheart?” Abby smirked, shifting closer on the couch until she almost faced you head-on, her body angling provocatively.

You shook your head in amusement. “Aww Fuck no, I’m not,” you mocked in a sing-song tone. “Cute thought, though.”

It was Abby’s turn to roll her eyes, yet her smirk never faltered. “You’re a real smartass, you know that?” She leaned back, draping an arm casually over the back of the couch, fingertips grazing your shoulder.

“And you can’t take a hint,” you shot back, eyeing her outfit as you took another drag.

“And you’re full of yourself,” she retorted, eyes flicking to your hand as you passed her the joint. Their brief contact sent an involuntary shiver up your spine.

“Got your attention, though—so that says more about you than me,” you shrugged back.

Abby hummed in acknowledgment, taking a hit as smoke curled from her mouth. Her knee pressed against your thigh as she handed the joint back.

“But if you’re gonna check me out, at least be subtle about it,” she teased, her voice gravelly from the smoke.

“You wanted me to see you so bad, so I’m doing that. You complaining now?” you scoffed.

Abby exhaled sharply, a quiet laugh escaping her. “Holy hell, you’re annoying,” she said, though her gaze lingered on your face and lips.

“Yeah?” You returned, a slow smile spreading. “Good. Maybe you’ll run a play and leave.”

She glanced over at you, then back again. “You wish.” Abby flashed another grin.

The eye-fucking, the lingering tension, the still-aching wound from a previous heartbreak—it all painted her as a bad decision. You knew it, could feel it in the way your chest tightened, so you broke eye contact, pulling back just slightly.

“Why am I entertaining you right now?”

She followed your movement, not letting you retreat fully.“Because you like me,” she quipped, her hand still under your shirt, tracing lazy circles against your skin. “Because I’m entertaining, and I’m the best thing happening at this lame-ass party right now.”

You huffed a laugh. “Like you?” You arched a brow. “You think me letting you be handsy is a sign I’m falling for you?”

Abby chuckled, shrugging as if the thought had only just crossed her mind.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she mused, her fingers creeping higher, spreading over the bare skin of your hip. “But you’re still here, letting me touch on you… so something’s happening.”

You glanced down at her hand, then back up at her face, leaning against the couch.

“Mmn, I guess.”

A slow smirk tugged at her lips, but you rolled your eyes before it could fully settle.

“But I’d be an idiot to let it go further,” you said, it was something close to warning. “I know exactly how you get down.”

Abby’s grin only widened at that. No denial, no weak attempt to prove you wrong. Just that same wicked amusement as her fingers kept tracing idle patterns over your skin.

“Well, you’ve got me all figured out then, don’t you?” she teased, pressing her knee more firmly against your thigh.

“But I bet…” she started, voice dropping an octave, “if I really wanted a taste, you’d still let me have one.”

narrowing your eyes at her. You scoffed, looking away. “Oh please, I’m not that desperate, Anderson.”

She smirked, catching the way your eyes darted from hers, how the color bloomed across your cheeks despite your words.

“Also Betting you’re real easy under all this, huh?”

Your expression dropped instantly. “Excuse me?” Abby barely had time to react before you shoved her hand away.“God, you’re such an asshole.”

Pushing up from the couch, you adjusted your outfit and grabbed your cup, not sparing her another glance as you walked off. Pushing through bodies, The heat that burning under your skin wasn’t temptation anymore—it was irritation.

Abby watched you go, She hadn’t expected you to up and leave like that. A beat passed, her fingers flexing in her lap before she exhaled, dropping the joint into the ashtray.

Then, with a quiet sigh, she got up. Willing her mouth to say the correct words this go around.

It didn’t take long to find you. The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the house, save for the low hum of conversation from people passing through. You stood by the counter, fingers wrapped around your drink, but you hadn’t taken a sip.

Abby hesitated for the first time that night, her usual bravado dimming at the edges. Still, she approached, the smirk from before vanished, replaced with something else—something that almost looked like regret.

“Hey,” she said softly, her tone much gentle. “You alright? I didn’t mean to—”

“Save it, Anderson.” You huffed, waving a dismissive hand, trying to shake off the heat still simmering from her last comment.

Abby exhaled, rubbing a hand over her jaw. “Look, I was just messing around. You know that, right?”

You scoffed, finally looking at her. “Oh, so it’s just a joke when you’re the one running your mouth?”

Her brows raised slightly, sensing the shift. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“You and your teammates? All the same. It’s fucking embarrassing.” You spat the words like they tasted bad in your mouth.

Abby’s expression darkened. “And what the hell does that mean?”

“It means what I said.” Your low, red-rimmed eyes met hers, colder than before. “You. Williams. Stevens. Martinez. And every other meathead who likes to parade around campus like they own it. Simple-minded—”

“Hold up.” She stepped into the small space. “You don’t know me, so don’t you dare lump me in with the rest of them.”

She scoffed, her next words hitting hard. “And you call me simple-minded? Look at you—walking around with your prissy attitude, acting like you’re better than everyone just because Martinez screwed you over.”

Your fingers tightened around your drink but Abby didn’t stop there. “It’s not my fault you dated the biggest red flag on campus. Maybe you like getting played.”

The second it left her mouth, regret twisted in her gut. Your eyes widened—briefly, but enough for her to see the impact. The sharp inhale, the tension in your jaw, the way your grip tightened. Abby braced herself, half-expecting a slap, but instead, you exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring, a cruel dig following.

“Wow. Funny coming from the girl who just figured out she likes pussy last year and acts like she invented the game.”

So lost in the heat of the argument, neither of you noticed the necks turning, the whispers starting to spread.

“Yeah. Congrats. You finally stopped fumbling your way through your sexuality just to become a fuckboy in a passed-around jersey, cycling through girls because you’re too scared to actually feel something.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching. “You think that’s funny?” she shot back. “You’re one to talk. You’re over here holding a grudge like it’s a fucking trophy. Maybe I’ve figured things out better than you, huh? At least I didn’t let one bad breakup ruin my life.”

She opened her mouth to backtrack, to fix what she just broke, but the look in your eyes told her it was already too late.

The murmur of your voice was beginning to cut through the music, unmistakable. Dina peeled herself away from the lanky body pressed against hers, tucked away in an empty bedroom upstairs.

She knew if you found out she was tangled up with Ellie—again—you’d launch into the “you deserve better” speech. She could already see the way you’d cross your arms, the unimpressed face. Tonight she just wanted to be selfish. Indulge. Regret it later.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, sitting up.

The Auburn haired girl, lazily draped over her, raised an eyebrow. “Relax, it’s probably nothing.” Her voice was almost a wine from the loss of contact.

Dina, on the other hand, was already untangling herself, listening harder. “It doesn’t sound like nothing,” she shot back, reaching for her phone off the nightstand.

Ellie finally shifted, more alert now. “Wait—hold on, is that __?”

Dina’s stomach dropped at the sound of your name.

Her feet moved faster than lightning, her mind racing through every possible scenario as she shoved open the door. She just prayed you weren’t in another physical fight. The last one had been bad enough—some girl “coming to you as a woman” when in reality, it was just another cruel reminder that everyone knew about your ex’s infidelity before you did.

“Dina—seriously?” Ellie groaned, pulling her flannel back on and jogging after her.

“Don’t stand so close to me.” Dina shot her a look over her shoulder.

Ellie snorted. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

Dina didn’t have time for this. The music was getting louder, the voices sharper. The second she hit the top of the stairs, she spotted the crowd forming in the kitchen. Dina let go of Ellie’s hand without thinking, her pulse spiking.

“What the hell?”

She caught sight of you just as the sea of bodies parted. Her jet-black ponytail whipped over her shoulder, posture wound tight. Across from you stood Abby Anderson—just as tense, just as ready.

Dina’s stomach twisted.

“Oh, shit—” someone in the crowd muttered.

“Damn, they’re really about to throw down in the kitchen?”

“Nah, she brought up Martinez—this is getting personal.”

“She just called her a passed-around jersey? That’s crazy.”

The whispers started almost immediately, people soaking up the drama like it was the halftime show of a championship game.You barely spared them a glance. Instead, your eyes locked onto Dina—and Ellie, standing just behind her, arms crossed.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Ellie muttered making a beeline toward Abby.

Dina, however, reached you first. “Hey—what the hell happened?” she asked, searching your face for answers.

Ellie scoffed, flipping off the nearest group of nosy onlookers. “Mind your business.”

You didn’t answer Dina right away. Instead, you shoved past the crowd, heat radiating off you in waves. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

The words tasted bitter on your tongue as you pulled out a compact mirror. Your reflection wasn’t great—mascara smudged beneath your eyes, making you look like a pissed-off raccoon.

“Can we go now?” you asked, not really asking.

Dina hesitated. “Yeah—uh—” She glanced over at Ellie and Abby, then back at you. “No—yeah, let’s go.”

She draped an arm over your shoulders, steering you away from the wreckage. As the three of you pushed through the crowded halls, a familiar laugh caught your ears, making your throat run dry.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. You just wanted to be home, in bed, buried under your sheets until the semester ended.

The second you slid into the passenger seat of Dina’s car, she hesitated again.

“…You sure you’re—”

“Dee. I’m fine. Okay?” you sighed, sinking deeper into the seat. “Just—just take us home.”

Dina exhaled, giving a small nod. She turned up the radio, filling the silence with static as she pulled out of the makeshift parking lot.

Meanwhile..

Abby was still standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, jaw clenched. She refused to leave. If she walked out now, everyone would think she got chewed out by some hothead random.

“Abby, you good?” Ellie’s voice cut in, bringing Abby back to reality.

Steven’s, another teammate, leaned against the counter beside her. “That was… something,” tilting her beer. “Not even five minutes into the party and you’re already beefing with someone?”

Abby leaned back against the fridge, exhaustion creeping in. “She started it,” she muttered, running a hand down her face.

“Yeah, well, she’s been snappy ever since—” Steven’s gaze flickered toward the other side of the room.

Abby followed the line of sight. There she was. Martinez. Already wrapped up with another girl like she didn’t even care.

Ellie exhaled through her nose. “Yeah. Dina told me.”

Abby looked over at her. “Told you what? That you and her are back on?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, shifting her weight. “This is not about me.”

Stevens chuckled. “Well, the night’s still young. You should both just forget about the whole thing. No big deal.”

It should’ve been that easy. But weren’t first impressions everything?

Because in Abby’s mind, she had just made one hell of a first one.

Even now, as Abby retold the story, a stress ball bounced between her hands. Across the room, Nora caught it, her head full of curls bobbing as she processed the information.

“Wait, go back—you said what?”

Abby groaned. “I know, okay? Look, I was high, and I just…”

“Was being a dick,” Nora finished.

“Yeah.”

Nora sighed, barely hiding her amusement behind her hand. “Abs, you are genuinely an idiot.”

Abby threw the stress ball across the couch. “Whoa. Last time I come to you for advice.” She slumped further into the cushions, staring at the ceiling. What a mess.

“Well, I won’t disagree—first impression? F-minus, for sure.”

Abby groaned again. But then, Nora shrugged, something more thoughtful crossing her face.

“Maybe second chances can outweigh the first ones.”

Abby scoffed. “Tell that to her.”

And even as she said it, she felt the weight of last night pressing down on her all over again.

This was gonna be a long semester.

[damiansgoodgirll]

don’t break my heart part 9 ❤️❤️❤️

WE ARE BACK BABY!

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8

terror twins x platonic!reader, the judgment day x platonic!reader , drew mcintyre x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️SMUT!!! so stay away kids , aftercare, mention of loneliness, fear of abandonment, depression, panic attacks, anxiety, fear of rejection‼️

DON’T BREAK MY HEART - PART 9

“what did rhea do?” damian asked a little confused.

“she hates me…” you whispered, your voice broken from crying.

“she doesn’t hate you, she could never” the man knew how close you two were so he found it impossible for her to even hate you.

“did she say something?” drew asked.

“she was disappointed…she got mad cause she lost, she wanted me to help her out when raquel appeared but i didn’t, i couldn’t, both hunter and adam forbidden me to go otherwise we would be risking a month fine…but maybe i was wrong, i should have risked it for her, she’s always been there for me and the one time she needed me i wasn’t there…” your soft voice echoed in the room as some tears kept falling down.

“listen to me hermosa, she doesn’t hate you, she could never hate you, yes, she’s stubborn and proud but she will never hate you, i’ll talk to her and we’ll figure it out” damian’s words somehow reassured you and you relaxed a little more into drew’s touch.

……………

“priest” rhea called him when she saw him in the hotel lobby.

“what did you tell her?” he asked, straight to the point.

rhea knew exactly what he was talking about “listen i…”

“no, you listen to me. what the fuck happened? why did you have to blame her? was it really her fault or you couldn’t accept that you lost?” maybe damian was being too hard on her but he knew it was the only way to make rhea understand her mistake “you screamed at her? rhea what the fuck? seriously?”

“listen i’m so fucking sorry about what happened, i wasn’t thinking”

“yeah, you weren’t thinking! rhea, you know better than to scream at her, you fucking scared her. you better apologise to her or we are gonna have a problem…” damian was serious about this, about you. he always cared about you, about your well being and seeing you so torn down because of something his best friend did was making him even angrier.

“i will apologise to her, i will, i promise” rhea felt guilty. she knew she went too far. she regretted saying those words the moment she saw the fear in your eyes. the moment she saw the tears in your eyes. she felt sick, as if she was a monster “how is she?”

“she’s with drew now, she’s in good hands” damian didn’t want to talk about the painful panic attack you had earlier, it pained him too much and the idea of having you crying in his mind was enough to make him sad again.

“he’s good for her” rhea softly smiled, thinking about how much she wanted to protect you from drew at first and how now he was the one protecting you from her.

“yeah…” damian softly smiled “rhea, you apologise” he reminded her.

“i will, first thing in the morning, she needs to rest now, i feel like we all need to rest” the woman said, feeling all of her pain in her body.

“absolutely…whatever happens, call me” damian said before saying goodbye to rhea as they all approached their rooms.

unbeknownst to them, liv and dom heard the whole conversation and they knew what cards to play in the future as they were already plotting a sweet revenge to make you and rhea hate each other. liv didn’t really care about what happened between the two of you but her interest was caught when damian said that she scared you, that you got afraid of her and that is what she’s going to use to bring you on her team and let you leave rhea’s graces for once.

in the meantime drew helped you changing in some fresh clothes and getting you ready for bed.

“i’m so tired…” you yawned.

“i am too, and i barely died out there” he joked making you laugh.

“how are you feeling? does your head hurt?” you asked him, a little worried.

“it hurts a little…nothing i can’t handle” he smirked making you smile a little.

“you got me so worried out there…”

he looked at you. he knew the hell in a cell match was going to take a big tool on him but he didn’t really think much about you and his family might have been affected by that too. “i know…i’m sorry…” he felt a little guilty.

“it’s okay…at least you are here…” you softly smiled before let his big arms wrapping you close to his body.

“rest love…” he whispered and before you could even realize it, you were already falling asleep.

…………

as the sun came out, you lazily stretched your legs and arms into the bed. slowly realizing that drew wasn’t next to you, instead he left a note.

i have a check up visit this morning, i probably won’t be there when you wake up. you looked too peaceful for me to wake you up so i let you sleep. enjoy your free morning, i’ll see you in a couple of hours.

love,

- drew

you smiled, thinking about how he even took time writing you a note instead of a simple text message.

you weren’t surprised to find yourself in the gym early that morning. after the way last night had gone, you needed the distraction and the fact that you had time for yourself, you needed that distraction more than ever.

rhea had been pissed - more than pissed. your mind kept thinking about last night. she had yelled at you, voice sharp and cutting, frustration pouring out of her in a way you hadn’t expected. you didn’t even know where it had come from. yes, she was mad because she lost but you never expected her to be that mad.

she was going off, anger spilling out before she finally stormed off, leaving you standing there with your heart sinking.

you hadn’t slept much after that. even drew could sense it - probably the reason he didn’t wake you up when he left.

so here you were, throwing yourself into your workout, trying to shake the tension still sitting heavy in your chest. you didn’t hear her come in, but you felt it the moment she was near.

“hey…”

you turned, catching sight of rhea standing a few feet away, looking…regretful. her usual confidence was dimmed and she was fidgeting with her wrist wraps.

you didn’t say anything, just waited.

she sighed, running a hand through her dark hair “i fucked up.”

you stayed quiet.

rhea exhaled, stepping closer “i shouldn’t have yelled at you last night. i was mad about other shit and i took it out on you. i blamed you and that wasn’t fair” her voice softened “you’re my best friend, and i messed up.”

the sincerity in her voice cracked something in you. the anger you had been holding onto wavered, replaced by something else.

“yeah…” you muttered, still a little guarded “you did.”

rhea nodded, accepting it “i’m sorry, really.”

for a moment, you just stared at her, weighing the words, the emotion behind them. you knew you couldn’t stay mad, then, finally, you sighed and nudged her shoulder.

“you owe me a coffee…”

a grin tugged at the corner of her lips “done”

just like that, the weight between you started to lift “so…drew?” she asked, already knowing what she wanted to know and you pretended you didn’t hear that.

………..

as months passed, your bond with drew grew stronger and closer. he took time off to cool down after the injuries he sustained during the match and you were managing life between work and home.

you got used to the little routine of coming back home from a trip and being spoiled by drew’s cooking or drew’s hands massaging your body after a rough match.

in those time you also got yourself a title opportunity to be the first women us champion and you couldn’t believe that you were the finalist for that title.

drew couldn’t be happier. rhea and damian too. things were finally starting to work.

no nightmares. no panic attacks. no anxiety. just a lot of love and support from the people you loved the most and you couldn’t be more grateful.

drew also had a match the same night you were fighting for the championship and you actually were so excited to see him fighting again.

the energy backstage was electric. the whole night had been leading up to this - two huge matches, two moments that could change everything. and somehow, you and drew were both right in the middle of it.

your match was up next, but you weren’t thinking about that yet. right now, your eyes were locked on the monitor, heart pounding as you watched drew in the ring with sami.

it had been a war. neither of them had held back and you had winced more than once watching drew take hit after hit. but he had powered through - like he always did - and now, after one final claymore that nearly took sami’s head off, drew had done it.

the referee’s hand hit the mat. one, two, three.

you didn’t even think - you just cheered, grinning as you watched him push himself up, chest rising and falling, sweat dripping from his forehead. the crowd was going insane, his music blasting through the arena.

you knew how much this meant to him. you knew how hard he had worked, how much he had needed this win. his big comeback and he brought the victory home.

but suddenly now it was your turn.

your match was a blur of adrenaline and instinct. you fought with everything you had, pushing past exhaustion, past the ache in your muscles, past the voice in your head telling you to slow down. because this was history. this was your moment. your big opportunity to show everyone you could do it.

your big push.

to show your family, your fake friends “i made it.”

and when the final bell rang, when the referee raised your hand and handed you the brand-new united states women’s championship, you barely had time to process it before you turned toward the entrance ramp where drew was standing, watching.

he had changed out of his gear, but his hair was still damp, and his eyes - god, his eyes were shining with pride.

you barely had time to breathe before he was in the ring, arms around you, lifting you off your feet as the crowd roared.

“you did it…” he murmured, voice rough with emotion.

“we did” you corrected, gripping the title with one hand and holding onto him with the other.

you didn’t care if you didn’t come out yet with your relationship. it was pretty obvious now to everyone that you were together. making liv and raquel plans to destroy you and rhea go to hell - as they wanted to bring your secret relationship with drew into their mess.

rhea and damian were watching backstage like proud parents.

“she did it…” damian whispered, rhea nodding along.

drew was still holding you as confetti and fireworks echoed through the arena.

you just made history.

you both had your moments tonight. but this - this moment with him, was the one you’d remember forever.

“this is gonna go down as the best thing that happened in the company for years” drew whispered in your ear making you laugh.

as soon as you both got backstage, the noise from the crowd still echoing in your ears, drew didn’t waste a second.

before you could fully process everything, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you into him, and kissed you.

it wasn’t just any kiss. it was deep, slow, full of every emotion from the night. pride, relief, love.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours as you were barely standing on your feet and you could feel his breath mix with yours.

“i’m so proud of you…” he murmured, voice low and rough. his hands found your waist, thumbs brushing soft circles against your skin “first-ever us women’s champion…love, you made history tonight.”

you smiled, looking shortly at the shiny belt in your hands as still breathless you whispered “so did you. you killed it out there.”

he chuckled, shaking his head “watching you win felt better than my own match.”

you rolled your eyes but felt your heart squeeze at his words. before you could say anything, you both heard your names being called from different directions. media time.

he groaned, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before stepping back “guess we gotta go be professional now.”

you smirked “don’t sound too excited.”

with one last glance at each other, you split off. drew heading toward his interview, and you toward yours.

hours later, after the whirlwind of interviews, - asking you both of how you felt about the victory and how long you and drew had been dating - photos and endless congratulations, you finally made it back to the locker room and took a quick shower before going straight to the hotel.

the moment you stepped inside the room, you let out a heavy sigh, kicking off your shoes and tossing your championship onto the bed. your whole body ached, but it was the best kind of exhaustion.

drew came in behind you, shutting the door and immediately pulling you into him from behind, arms wrapping around your waist.

“long night” he murmured against your shoulder.

“worth it…definitely worth it” you sighed, leaning back into him.

he hummed in agreement before gently guiding you toward the bed “c’mon, let’s get some rest, champ.”

you smirked as you climbed into bed “you too, champ.”

he chuckled, sliding in beside you, pulling you close.

“tonight was just the beginning” he whispered.

and as you lay there, wrapped up in each other, title resting nearby, you knew he was right.

“i guess so…” you knew he was right and from that moment you were going to prove yourself even more.

you looked up at him for a moment, admiring him in all of his glory.

“what?” he smirked down at you.

“oh, nothing…is just, you’re so handsome. and strong. and tall…” you smirked back “i wonder how did i manage to pull you.”

“i’m the one who’s winning in this relationship you know? i’m the one wondering how someone old like me managed to pull someone so gracious and perfect like you…” - you thought for a moment about his words.

“we’re just soulmates i guess.”

he never believed in soulmates. he never believed in love at first sight but he knew he was fucked the moment you two got closer. you were like a drug to him and he couldn’t get enough of you. “come here…” he whispered softly as you shifted from his side to his lap.

“feeling nasty tonight uh?” you teased making him laugh.

“it’s you.”

his smirk deepened, but he didn’t say anything, at least not with words. instead, he tilted your chin up, catching your lips in a slow kiss.

it started soft, teasing, but it didn’t stay that way.

drew’s hand slid up your back, pulling you against him and you gasped against his mouth.

that was all the invitation he needed.

before you could process it, he was shifting, strong hands gripping your waist as he effortlessly hold you closer onto his lap.

his huge lap. you almost vanished in comparison.

you swallowed hard, thighs straddling his as his hands settled on your hips, holding you in place.

“that’s better…” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, hungrier this time.

you melted into him, your fingers playing through his long hair, tugging just enough to earn a low growl from deep in his chest. his hands moved, slipping under your shirt, rough palms dragging over soft skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

you could feel him - all of him - beneath you, hard and warm, and it made your head spin.

he kissed down your jaw, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin, making you shiver.

“you’re incredible, you know that?” he muttered against your neck, voice thick with want “everything about you drives me insane.”

“drew…”

he hummed in response, lips trailing lower.

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, heart pounding, cheeks flushed.

were you ready?

“i’m ready…” you whispered.

he knew what you meant by that.

that’s why he stopped all of his movements. he looked at you. trying to see if you were being serious or if you were playing with him.

“you sure love?” his hand softly pressed against your cheek.

“yeah…” your voice below a whisper.

you were being serious.

when realization dawned, his expression softened even more.

“i’m asking you again…are you sure?” his voice was gentle, like he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to assume.

you nodded, chewing your lip “i’ve thought about it a lot and i trust you, drew. i trust you more than anyone.”

suddenly you felt shy sitting there on his lap after the confession.

his brows furrowed slightly, like your words meant more to him than he knew how to express. he knew how much you struggled with words and opening up.

he exhaled, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin “love, you don’t have to do this for me. we don’t have to rush anything.”

“i know…” you whispered “but i want you to be the one. i don’t want to wait for something that already feels so right.”

his jaw clenched for a moment, like he was holding back emotion. then, slowly, he leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead.

“thank you…” he murmured “for trusting me with this.”

you felt a lump in your throat at the way he looked at you - like you were the most precious thing in the world.

he shifted, sitting up slightly, his fingers still stroking your cheek “before anything happens, i need you to know something.”

you sat up straight too, heart fluttering “okay.”

this is getting even more serious - you thought.

his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together “this isn’t just a moment for me. this matters and it’s not just about tonight - it’s about every night after because i’m not going anywhere.”

tears pricked at your eyes at the sheer certainty in his voice.

no one ever stayed for you.

not your family, not your second family - the judgment day - but he was willing to stay.

you squeezed his hand “i don’t want anyone else, drew. just you.”

he smiled then, leaning in to kiss you slow and deep, full of promise. when he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“then let’s take our time…”he whispered “i want you to feel comfortable love.”

you nodded,speechless. the way he was treating you with such care.

the room felt warmer, softer somehow, as drew cradled your face between his hands. his touch was gentle, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of your skin.

he gently moved you from his lap to beneath his large body

“we can go as slow as you want” he murmured, his deep voice low and soothing “remember, you are the one in charge tonight…”

“just tonight?” you teased him.

“love…” he smiled “i’m trying to be as good as possible with you tonight…”

“fine, i’ll behave” you nodded, heart pounding, but it wasn’t from fear. it was anticipation, love. trust.

he kissed you again, slow and lingering, his lips moving against yours like he had all the time in the world. and in this moment, it felt like he did.

his hands traced down your arms, to your waist, pulling you closer, but never rushing. he let you lead, let you set the pace.

“can i undress you love?” he softly asked, making sure you still wanted to go on. you softly said yes and that was all he needed to hear.

as he slowly undressed you, his fingers trembled slightly, not from nerves but from reverence. he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the way his eyes softened made you feel like you were.

for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel scared, ashamed. laying underneath his body completely naked as he watched you mesmerized.

he kissed every inch of skin he uncovered, taking his time, making sure you felt safe, cherished.

starting from your neck, moving down to your collarbone and chest. softly kissing your hard nipples and making you whimper as you tried not to be too loud.

every touch, every movement, was filled with love - not just desire, but something deeper, something unspoken yet completely understood.

“you’re perfect” he whispered against your skin as his lips moved lower - and the way he said it made you believe it.

you let yourself melt into him, into the warmth of his body, the steady strength of his arms. every kiss sent a shiver down your spine, not from uncertainty, but from the overwhelming intimacy of it all.

he kissed your thighs, softly, teeth grazing your now reddened skin. he looked up at you one last time.

your eyes fully closed, mouth slightly opened - that was all he needed before his lips met your clit.

a loud whimper left your lips. not used to this feeling, you felt warm and fuzzy.

“you taste like heaven…” he whispered mostly to himself. as if you could focus on what he was saying. too lost in pleasure to even notice that he spoke to you, your hands instinctively grabbed the sheets underneath your body.

you weren’t used to be loud. to moan. to let your voice out but before you could overthink yourself, drew asked you to be loud as possibly.

“don’t hold back love” he whispered “i want to hear your pretty moans…” - and the way he said it, his strong thick accent, how could you say no?

so the moment his tongue found your clit again, you let out a deep breath “fuck…drew” as you bit your lips.

he held you close, whispering soft reassurances as his tongue was working over your clit. him telling you how much he loved you, how much you meant to him “let go for me love…i can feel how close you are…” and you did. you trusted him and you let go.

he licked every single drop of your juices, not leaving your thighs until you calmed down.

the moment your breath got back to normal, he raised from your legs. his hair completely messed up, his face covered in your juices and his eyes staring at you with a mix of love and lust.

his forehead pressed against yours, breaths mingling, hearts beating in sync.

his heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode any minute.

“you sure you wanna go on?” he asked one last time, looking for any doubt in your eyes.

“i’m sure drew” you said, looking straight at him.

“i’ve got you” he murmured, his voice full of emotion, of promise “i’ll be as slow as possible…if at any point you want me to stop you say so and i’ll stop, got it?” he asked and you nodded “if it hurts you tell me, okay?” and you nodded once again “good…” he smirked, gently kissing your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

the air between you was thick with anticipation, the kind that made your skin tingle, your breath catch in your throat.

he slowly lifted himself up to be able to undress himself and he made sure that you were able to see all of it.

his fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slow and deliberate. each inch of skin he revealed made your heart race, your mouth dry.

you had seen him like this before, of course- backstage, after matches, in hotel rooms just like this. but this was different. this wasn’t just drew mcintyre, the wrestler, the larger-than-life powerhouse. this was drew, the man who loved you, the man who looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

he removed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and god, he was breathtaking.

strong arms, every muscle defined - not just from years of wrestling, but from the way he moved, the way he carried himself. but it wasn’t just about how he looked. it was him. the warmth in his eyes, the quiet confidence, the way he watched you, like he wanted to see every reaction, every flicker of awe on your face.

he smirked slightly, amused by your silence “you okay there, love?”

you blinked, realizing you had been staring - hard.

heat rose to your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. instead, you let your eyes trail lower as his hands moved to his belt, unfastening it with the same unhurried pace.

“i…yeah” you breathed, barely able to get the words out.

he chuckled softly, the sound deep and rich, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

the belt slid free, landing somewhere on the floor and then his fingers moved to the button of his jeans, popping it open, lowering the zipper.

your breath hitched.

he noticed.

his smirk faded into something softer, something deeper.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, stepping closer, his fingers brushing your knee as he leaned in just enough to make your heart stutter.

you swallowed hard, nodding “just… you’re - you’re beautiful.”

his expression changed completely like your words had caught him off guard, like they meant more to him than he could put into words.

he cupped your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin “you’re the only one i want to be beautiful for” and as he leaned in to kiss you, slow and tender, you knew he meant every single word.

he was standing there with only his boxers on. you could feel his hard cock even if it was covered by his clothes.

he brought your hand slowly next to him, to feel him “see? look what you done to me” he teased.

“we better do something about it then…” you slowly bit your lips.

in a swift move he let his boxers fell on the ground, freeing his huge dick.

your mouth slightly opened.

you knew he was big, you just didn’t expect him to be that big.

“we will take it slow, remember” he reminded you and you nodded.

you laid back on the bed as he hovered over you. he was watching every move you made.

he traced his hands down your body, featherlight touches that made your skin tingle.

“tell me if anything feels wrong” he whispered, forehead resting against yours “promise me.”

you nodded “i promise.”

he kissed you again, and when the moment finally came, he was impossibly gentle. the tip first, making you gasp a little.

his lips found yours as he pushed into you. you suddenly clenched on his length - as he was expecting - making it even harder for him to focus.

“breathe…” he reminded you and you nodded.

it hurt a little and he probably realized that too. he let you adjust to his size. he let you take your time. he didn’t move until you said so.

“you can move…” you whispered slowly.

he nodded, his lips kissing you deeply as you melt into him.

he moved slowly, pausing to check on you, his hand threading through yours, grounding you. his eyes never left your face, watching every reaction, making sure you were okay.

it was new, different, intense but not in a way that scared you, more in a way that made your heart swell, made your entire body feel alive.

he whispered your name like it was the most sacred thing in the world. kissed you like you were the most precious thing he had ever held.

and when your body adjusted to him, when the tension faded into something natural, something right, you felt it - the connection. deeper than touch, deeper than anything you had ever known. not the pain, not the burning sensation, just the pure connection with the man you loved.

he held you close, his breath mingling with yours, his fingers laced with yours.

“you okay?” he asked again, softer this time, like he already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.

you smiled, eyes shining “more than okay.”

he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“good” he whispered, voice thick with emotion “because this, us, this means everything to me.”

“i love you drew…now make me yours” there was something shifting in his eyes the moment you said those words.

he moved his hips harder, making you moan even louder.

your hands moved from the sheets to his shoulders, your fingers slowly marking his back, making him growl into your ears.

“i’m so close…” you moaned looking up at him.

“then let go for me baby…” and for the second time that night you came. this time moaning his name as your nails scratched his back.

he followed you soon. trying to not make a mess, he finished jerking his cock a few times before spilling onto your stomach and thighs. he wanted to feel you so bad but being your first time he didn’t want to traumatize you.

as you both laid there breathless, drew softly kissed your shoulder.

“are you okay baby?” he softly said whispered against your skin. you slowly turned your head to look up at him and noticed how good he looked. his hair all messy and sweat dripping from his head.

he was incredible.

you nodded at his question, letting yourself melt into him “yeah… that was amazing…i’m just tired.”

he let out a small chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest “figured” he murmured, his fingers brushing damp strands of hair from your forehead.

but still, he wasn’t done taking care of you.

without a word, he shifted, moving carefully as he sat up “stay here, love” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed.

you watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, the soft sound of running water filling the room. when he returned, he had a warm washcloth in his hand, his expression focused, gentle.

he kneeled on the bed beside you, his large hands brushing against your thighs and stomach as he cleaned you up, taking his time, being so careful.

“don’t want you to be uncomfortable” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knee as he worked.

your chest swelled with something warm, something softer than anything you had ever felt before.

when he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and pulled the covers up over you before climbing back into bed. but instead of pulling you back against him, he disappeared again - only for a moment as he was looking for something in the mini fridge.

when he returned, he had a bottle of water in his hand, offering it to you “drink, sweetheart.”

you gave him a sleepy smile, taking a few sips before handing it back.

finally, he settled in next to you, wrapping you in his arms, pulling you so close you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

his lips found your shoulder again, leaving soft, lazy kisses as his fingers traced patterns along your arm.

“you did so good, i’m so proud of you love”he whispered, his voice barely above a breath “so perfect.”

your heart fluttered, warmth spreading through your chest.

you turned in his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “thank you” you murmured against his skin, your voice barely audible.

he smiled, his arms tightening around you “thank you for trusting me to be your first, i love you…sleep tight baby.”

and as you drifted off, safe in his arms, you knew there was no place in the world you’d rather be.

……………

a couple of days later you both returned home. you needed to grab a few things from your apartment before going straight to drew’s home - more like your home too now.

as you unpacked the dirty clothes and fill up the washing machine, you took a few minutes for yourself. thinking about all the things that happened in the past few days. your fight with rhea. rhea apologising for hurting you. drew and damian being there for you. drew making you feel like you were the most special person in the world. you felt alive for the first time in many years.

you felt like everything was finally coming back together.

you smiled as you played some music on your phone as you kept doing home chores.

filling up your bag with more clothes that eventually you were going to leave at drew’s, you decided to check your mailbox since it’s been weeks you’ve done that.

nothing really special or now about your mails except for a letter that caught your attention.

subject: notice of legal proceedings

dear [y/n’s name],

i am writing to formally notify you that our firm, representing your parents in a legal matter concerning an outstanding financial obligation they claim is owed by you.

according to our clients this obligation remains unpaid, and despite previous discussions our clients sustained you had in the past, they have not received repayment or a resolution regarding this matter. as a result, they have initiated legal proceedings against you to recover the amount in question.

you are hereby notified that a court hearing has been scheduled regarding this claim.

we strongly advise that you seek legal representation to review this matter and respond accordingly. if you wish to discuss a potential resolution before the hearing, please contact our office at your earliest convenience.

failure to appear in court on the specified date may result in a default judgment against you. if you require any additional details or clarification, do not hesitate to reach out.

this letter serves as a formal notification of the pending legal action. we encourage you to take the necessary steps to address this matter appropriately.

sincerely,

mister john waller.

you felt like your soul just left your body.

what payment? what previous discussions? what money? you owe them nothing.

background music long forgotten as drew was calling your phone. but your eyes couldn’t leave the letter in your hands.

your parents, your own blood, your own family was taking you to court and there was nothing you couldn’t do to stop them.

[03jyh23]

🌷⌇the night finding our way back part 11; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: mild alcohol consumption, romantic/intimate situations (non-explicit), mild suggestive content, adult language

│words: 5.7 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi, my lovely people! this chapter takes a different turn from the previous ones, offering a more playful and lighthearted moment in our story. after all the emotional intensity we've experienced, i wanted to give you something sweet and fun right before we reach the end. hope you enjoyed this slightly different side of our characters! thank you for reading and staying with me through this journey! your support means everything. see you in the next chapter! oh, it's not proofread so im sorry for any errors :(

as always,

love, mon ♡

│taglist: │ @seventeenthingsblr │@DALSUWAHA │

│ @ateez-atiny380 │ @yoonshiiu │ @sndeoki │ @bomi-ja │

│ @vixensss │ @all-fandoms-rise │ @finnydraws │

│ @jonghosbrainrot │ @ateezswonderland │ @stayatinykatsy

│@chickenscoups │ @ana-stasssiaaa │ @starryunho │

│ @originalcupcakenacho │ @ultrapinkvoidbouquet │

│ @sweetinsaniiity│ @jennifermakmur│ @mitchii │

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│ if you wish to be tagged let me know here! ♡

The night had grown quite late by the time Hongjoong insisted on giving you a ride home, following what had unexpectedly evolved into quite the festive gathering. The streetlights cast long shadows through the car windows as Hongjoong navigated the quiet streets. You watched the familiar buildings pass by, each one bringing you closer to home. You found yourself reflecting on how long it had been since you'd allowed yourself to truly unwind like this - the easy laughter, the flowing conversation, the comfortable atmosphere that made time slip away unnoticed. But tonight felt different, special even, like a weight had finally lifted from your shoulders. You could feel yourself relaxing, truly relaxing, knowing that Jongho and Nari were building their relationship, that your daughter finally knew the truth about Jongho's identity. The guys had surprised you completely - instead of the awkward, formal interaction you'd been dreading, they had welcomed you with open arms and genuine warmth. Their natural friendliness and humor had made you feel less like an outsider being cautiously accepted and more like you'd somehow stumbled into a gathering of old friends you'd simply forgotten you had.

"So..." Hongjoong's voice broke through the comfortable silence, a playful lilt in his tone. "How are you really doing with all of this? You know, the whole Jongho situation?"

You couldn't help but giggle, the pleasant buzz from the evening's drinks making everything seem lighter, funnier somehow. "Oh my god, you sound just like one of those TV show therapists!" You mimicked a serious expression, pushing imaginary glasses up your nose. "'And how does that make you feeeeeel?'"

Hongjoong burst out laughing, shaking his head. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation here!"

"Serious is overrated," you sang, watching the streetlights blur past. "But if you must know..." You paused dramatically, making Hongjoong glance at you expectantly. "I have absolutely no fucking idea what I'm doing!"

"That's... surprisingly honest," Hongjoong chuckled.

"I know, right?" You grinned, feeling giddy. "But here's the thing - and don't you dare tell anyone I said this - I think I might still be a teensy bit in love with him." You emphasized 'teensy' by pinching your fingers together, then immediately burst into giggles.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain his composure but failing miserably as your laughter proved contagious. "A 'teensy' bit?"

"Okay, okay," you waved your hands dramatically. "Maybe a lot bit. But shhh, it's a secret!" You pressed a finger to your lips and made an exaggerated 'shushing' sound that sent both of you into another fit of laughter.

"You're something else when you're drunk, you know that?" Hongjoong managed between chuckles, turning onto your street.

"I'm delightful always," you declared with mock indignation. "It's just that right now everything feels... possible? Like maybe happy endings aren't just in fairy tales?" You suddenly gasped. "Oh no, I'm getting sappy! Quick, tell a joke!"

Hongjoong couldn't contain his amusement anymore. "You're absolutely ridiculous," he said fondly, "But for what it's worth, I think those happy endings might not be as far-fetched as you think."

"Now who's being sappy?" you teased, making him roll his eyes even as he continued grinning.

"God, you know what?" you sighed dreamily, slumping against the car window, your cheeks flushed from the evening's drinks. "Jongho got so impossibly, unreasonably hot. Like, have you seen his arms lately? Those perfectly sculpted muscles that peek through his fitted shirts should be considered dangerous weapons! The way they flex when he's just casually reaching for something... It's completely unfair to the rest of humanity!"

"Okay, maybe we should change the subject-" Hongjoong tried to interrupt, but you were too caught up in your revelation to notice.

"And don't even get me started on his thighs! Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've been with anyone? Years! YEARS, Hongjoong!" you declared dramatically, throwing your hands up in frustration. "And here he comes, walking back into my life looking like some kind of Greek god, giving me those intense looks with those gorgeous eyes of his... It should be illegal! There should be laws against looking that good after all this time!"

"I really don't need to hear this about my bandmate-" Hongjoong protested weakly, fighting back laughter at your animated state.

"But seriously, have you seem his thighs in those jeans a few days ago? The way they just... UGH! And I just want him to grab me and-"

"NOPE!" Hongjoong practically shouted, reaching over to clamp a hand over your mouth while trying to keep the car steady.

"No, but listen!" you persisted, pulling his hand away from your mouth. "Have you seen the way he carries Nari? Those strong arms just lifting her up like she weighs nothing, being all fatherly and protective... And then he'll catch my eye and give me that soft smile that makes my knees weak and I just-"

"You are definitely going to regret this conversation tomorrow," Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"I can't even finish that thought because it just makes me feel all..." you trailed off with a dreamy sigh, fanning yourself dramatically. "Is it getting hot in here? I think it's getting hot in here."

"Alright, time to get you inside before you say anything else I'll need therapy to unhear," he laughed, putting the car in park.

"Oh? We're already home?" you asked, surprised as you peered out the window at your familiar building.

"That's what happens when you spend the whole ride waxing poetic about Jongho's... physical attributes," Hongjoong teased, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Listen, I'm just saying," you drawled, gesturing expressively with your finger weaving unsteady patterns in the air, "As a single mom who hasn't had time for dating in forever, you have no idea what it's like. I bet you're out there living your best life, going to fancy industry parties, probably have people throwing themselves at you begging you to fuck th—" you continued, your words becoming increasingly slurred as you attempted to make your point with increasingly dramatic hand movements.

"Y/N!" Hongjoong interrupted, his expression a mix of mortification and barely contained amusement. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're saying all this. Exactly how many glasses of wine did you have at dinner?" His voice carried equal parts concern and entertainment at your uninhibited state.

You responded with a series of uncontrollable giggles, your coordination clearly compromised as your fingers fumbled clumsily with the seatbelt buckle, missing the release button entirely several times while muttering something incomprehensible under your breath. "Alright, I'm going," you declared with exaggerated dignity, attempting to push open the car door but somehow managing to pull on the window control instead. "Oh. That's not... wait, why isn't this... ah, there it is!" You finally located the correct handle, swinging the door open with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm.

Hongjoong quickly jumped out of the driver's seat, rushing around to your side of the car as you swayed precariously on your feet. "Whoa, careful there!" he exclaimed, catching your elbow just as you started to tip sideways. "Let's get you inside in one piece, shall we?"

"My hero!" you proclaimed with an exaggerated flutter of your eyelashes, swaying dramatically as Hongjoong supported your wobbly progress toward the building entrance.

"Just doing my duty as a responsible friend," he chuckled warmly, carefully guiding you up the steps while ensuring you didn't take an unexpected detour. "And making sure Jongho doesn't kill me if anything happens to you. He'd never let me hear the end of it."

"Aww, he's so protective," you sighed dreamily, your fingers fumbling with your keys in an elaborate choreography of misses. "Have I mentioned how incredibly, absolutely, positively hot that protective side of his is?"

"Only about a dozen times in the last hour," Hongjoong muttered with fond exasperation, gently extracting the keys from your uncoordinated grasp. "Here, let me help with that before you accidentally try to unlock your door with your credit card."

"I am perfectly capable of using my own keys!" you protested with the utmost conviction, nearly pirouetting over your own feet as you made this passionate declaration. "See? I'll show you! I am a key-using expert of the highest caliber!"

You triumphantly thrust your hand into the air, brandishing what you believed to be your key ring with the confidence of a symphony conductor, only to realize you were wielding your phone like a magical wand. "Oh. When did that happen? The keys have clearly learned to shape-shift. Very sneaky of them."

Hongjoong's laughter bubbled over, rich and genuine. "Just let me help, okay? Before you convince yourself your lip gloss is actually the garage door opener."

"Fine," you conceded with an exaggerated pout worthy of a theatrical performance. "But only because you're being so nice about it. And don't you dare tell Jongho about any of this! This is top-secret, classified, confidential... what's another word for secret?"

Hongjoong glanced at you with a mixture of amusement and growing concern. "You do know Jongho's at your place with Nari right now, don't you?"

"Oh shit," you breathed, your eyes widening to comical proportions. "Oh no, no, no... This is not part of the plan. The plan was to be sophisticated and elegant and..." Hongjoong couldn't help but laugh at your increasingly panicked expression, watching as the realization slowly dawned across your features. "Oh my god, I'm so drunk," you groaned, pressing your hands against your flaming cheeks as if trying to physically hold your dignity in place. "But I'll be fine! Totally fine. Completely and utterly fine!"

"I'm telling you," you continued with newfound determination, stumbling slightly as Hongjoong guided you through the building's entrance, "I'm going to walk in there and be all... all dignified and stuff. Like a queen. Or maybe a duchess. Do duchesses wobble?"

Hongjoong let out an undignified snort. "Sure you are. And I'm secretly a unicorn."

"No, really! Watch this!" You straightened up with the determination of an Olympic athlete, attempting to walk in what you believed to be a perfectly straight line down the hallway but instead executing a gentle curve to the left that would make geometry teachers weep. "I am grace personified! Poetry in motion! The very essence of... of... what's that word for when you're really good at walking?"

"Finally," Hongjoong sighed in relief as the elevator doors opened. He guided you inside, pressing the button for your floor while you leaned against the wall for support.

"I need to be... what's the word? Sophisticated! Yes, that's it. I am a sophisticated, responsible mother who absolutely, positively, definitely does not spend any time whatsoever thinking about her daughter's father's muscles. Or his shoulders. Or the way his t-shirts fit just right when he's... No! Bad brain! Stop that!"

"Maybe save the thigh appreciation for when you're more... coherent?" Hongjoong suggested, leading you down the hallway to your apartment.

"You're right, you're right," you nodded with such vigor that the world decided to do a spin, forcing you to grab the wall for support. "Do you think Jongho will be able to tell I'm drunk? I can be sneaky. Like a ninja. A very sophisticated ninja."

Hongjoong paused at your door, giving you a look that could only be described as 'are you actually serious right now?' "Y/N, a blind person could tell you're drunk right now. From three blocks away. In a soundproof room."

"I'm not drunk!" you protested with the righteous indignation of someone who was very much drunk, punctuating your declaration with a perfectly timed hiccup. "I'm just... experiencing an enhanced state of... of... consciousness expansion? No, that's not it. Alternative sobriety? Enhanced gravitational awareness?" You waved your hand in elaborate patterns through the air, as if trying to pluck the proper words from the cosmos itself.

Just then, the door to your apartment swung open to reveal Jongho standing there with an amused smirk playing across his features. "Enhanced state, huh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as you felt your cheeks flush an even deeper shade of crimson. Hongjoong cleared his throat, making a valiant but ultimately failed attempt to suppress his laughter at your mortified expression.

"I am completely and totally fine," you declared with all the dignity you could muster while the floor seemed to be engaging in some sort of gentle wave motion beneath your feet. "Just experiencing some temporary... spatial recalibration. It's very scientific." Your attempt at a graceful entrance was somewhat undermined when you promptly stumbled directly into Jongho's chest, his strong hands instinctively reaching out to catch you with practiced ease. "Hi!" you chirped brightly, gazing up at him with what you hoped was a casual smile but probably looked more like a lovestruck grin. The solid warmth of his chest against your palms and the steady pressure of his hands on your waist were doing absolutely nothing to help clear your wine-addled thoughts.

"Someone had a good time at dinner," he observed, his voice carrying notes of amusement mixed with something deeper, something that made your stomach do little flips that had nothing to do with the wine.

"The BEST time," you emphasized with enthusiastic hand gestures, still making no effort whatsoever to extract yourself from his supportive grip. "They had so many wines. SO many. And they were all very... winey. Like, really good at being wine. Is that a thing? It should be a thing."

"And this," Hongjoong announced with barely contained glee, backing away toward freedom, "is where I make my strategic retreat. Have fun dealing with... all of this." He gestured vaguely in your direction with a flourish before giving Jongho a sympathetic pat on the shoulder that clearly said, 'Good luck, you're going to need it.'

"Traitor!" you called after him, your voice echoing dramatically down the hallway along with his answering laughter. "Some friend you are, abandoning me in my hour of... of... what's that thing when you really need something?"

"Need?" Jongho supplied helpfully, still maintaining his steady hold on you as he somehow managed to kick the door closed without letting you topple over.

"You, Mister Choi," you declared with the gravity of someone making a profound scientific discovery, punctuating each word with a gentle poke to his chest, "are very smart. And strong. Have I mentioned how strong you are?" Your eyes widened comically as you realized what you'd just said, dissolving into a fresh fit of giggles that you tried to muffle against his shoulder.

Jongho's chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, the sound warming you more effectively than any amount of wine as he carefully guided you toward the couch. "Maybe we should get you some water and have you sit down for a bit," he suggested, his hands maintaining their gentle but firm pressure on your shoulders. The combination of his proximity and your alcohol-diminished inhibitions was making it increasingly difficult to remember all the reasons why you shouldn't be telling him exactly how devastatingly attractive you found him.

"You know what?" you announced with the air of someone about to share a vital piece of information, tilting your head back to look up at him. "You have really nice shoulders. Like, really, really nice. The kind of shoulders that make a girl want to..." you trailed off, your hands making vague grabbing motions in the air that would have made a mime proud.

"And how much exactly did you have to drink tonight?" Jongho asked, his valiant attempt at maintaining a straight face crumbling around the edges as he steadied you for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Enough to finally tell you that your whole..." you made a grand sweeping gesture encompassing his entire form, nearly taking out a lamp in the process, "...everything is very distracting. Has anyone ever told you that you're unfairly attractive? Because you are. It's very inconsiderate of you, honestly. There should be laws about this sort of thing."

Jongho's ears turned an adorable shade of pink, but his smile only grew wider, softer somehow. "Maybe we should revisit this conversation when you're sober," he suggested gently, guiding you to sit on the couch with the careful attention of someone handling a particularly wobbly piece of fine china.

"Nooo," you whined, latching onto his arm like a particularly determined octopus. "You're just going to be all responsible and professional again tomorrow, and I'll have to go back to pretending I don't notice how ridiculously good you look in those stupid fitted shirts of yours. Do you know how hard that is? It's very hard. Very, very hard."

"And don't even get me started on your arms," you continued, poking his bicep with an accusing finger as if it had personally offended you. "Do you know what they do to a person? Because I do. I know exactly what they do, and it's very... it's very... arm-y."

Jongho caught your poking finger in his hand, his expression a fascinating mix of amusement and something warmer, something that made your heart skip several beats. "Maybe you should tell me," he teased, his voice carrying a hint of challenge that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh, I could tell you so many things." You leaned closer, emboldened by the wine and the way his eyes seemed to darken at your proximity. "Like how distracting it is when you roll up your sleeves, or when-"

"Mommy?" a small voice called softly from the bedroom, the innocent sound cutting through your wine-induced haze like a bucket of ice water. The simple word instantly cleared your foggy mind, replacing the warmth of attraction with sharp, sobering clarity as you sat on the couch beside Jongho.

"Oh god," you whispered, practically leaping to the other end of the couch as though burned, your heart hammering in your chest as reality came crashing back. "Nari's still awake?"

Jongho reacted with lightning-quick composure, smoothly adjusting his position to create a respectable distance between you as the sound of tiny footsteps approached the room. "She was asleep just a few minutes ago, must have woken up from all our talking," he explained in carefully measured tones, his voice barely above a whisper, just as Nari appeared in her flower-patterned pajamas, her small fists rubbing drowsily at her eyes.

"Baby, what are you doing up?" you managed to say with impressive steadiness, fighting against the lingering effects of the wine that made the room tilt and sway. Your thoughts raced as you desperately hoped your daughter wouldn't notice how flushed your cheeks were or how disheveled you must look.

Nari shuffled toward the couch with that endearing sleepy wobble that small children have, her eyes heavy with interrupted dreams. "I heard laughing..." she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Princess, Mommy and I were just having a little chat, but it's very late now." Jongho stepped in with practiced ease, his voice gentle as he rose from the couch and lowered himself to her eye level. "Can I help you back to bed?" The natural way he handled the situation, seamlessly transitioning from your heated moment to caring father figure, made your heart clench with an emotion you weren't ready to name.

Nari's eyes darted between you and Jongho, concern evident even through her sleepy haze. "Is Mommy okay? She looks funny."

"Mommy's just a little tired from dinner with the uncles," Jongho explained, his voice warm and reassuring as he extended his hand toward her. "Let's get you tucked in, and tomorrow morning, she'll feel much better." The tenderness in his tone made your chest ache with longing and gratitude.

You caught Jongho's eye as he led Nari away, mouthing a silent but heartfelt 'thank you,' overwhelmed with appreciation for his quick thinking and smooth intervention. As their footsteps grew fainter down the hallway, you sagged deeper into the couch cushions, letting out a long groan while pressing your palms against your eyes, trying to will away both the spinning sensation and the memory of how close you'd been to kissing him.

A few minutes later, Jongho returned to the room, his expression a perfect blend of amusement and fond exasperation as he leaned against the doorframe. "Well, the first baby is safely back in dreamland," he announced with a knowing smirk, crossing his arms across his chest in a way that definitely didn't make your heart skip. "Now it's time to take care of the big baby."

"Are you calling me a baby?" you protested with an exaggerated pout, stumbling slightly as you tried to cross your arms. "Because I'll have you know I am a very mature and sophisticated..." you trailed off as an ill-timed hiccup interrupted your declaration, "...person."

"Whatever you say," Jongho chuckled warmly, his eyes sparkling with barely contained mirth as he gently took your elbow. "Come on, let's get you some water. Can you walk to the kitchen?"

"Of course I can walk," you declared confidently, though your steps were anything but steady as he guided you.

Once in the kitchen, he carefully positioned you against the counter, his hands lingering on your waist to ensure you stayed upright. "Stay right here," he instructed, his voice a mix of amusement and concern. "And try not to fall over while I get your water."

"No, I don't want water," you whined, gripping the counter edge as the room did a gentle spin. Your eyes followed him as he moved to the sink, unable to help yourself from admiring his profile. "I want to tell you about how pretty your eyes are when you smile." Jongho turned back to you with that exact devastating smile you'd just mentioned, making your heart flutter.

"Here," he said firmly, pressing the glass of water into your hands, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that sent tingles up your arm. "Drink this, and maybe we can talk more about my eyes later."

"Or you could just kiss me," you murmured, the wine making your voice husky and your usual hesitation nonexistent. Your eyes traced the contours of his lips, lingering on the subtle curve of his mouth as he held you steady against the kitchen counter, his proximity making your head spin more than any amount of alcohol could. Jongho's breath caught audibly in his throat, his fingers flexing unconsciously where they gripped your waist, the pressure just firm enough to send shivers down your spine. For a long moment, the air between you crackled with an almost electric tension. Then, with a deliberateness that made your heart race, he slowly began to lean in. When his lips finally met yours, it was with a gentleness that made your knees weak. The kiss was tentative at first, exploratory, like he was giving you every chance to pull away. Instead, you let out a soft sigh against his mouth, your fingers finding purchase in the fabric of his shirt, desperately pulling him closer. Something in him seemed to break at that small sound - the kiss transformed, becoming deeper, more intense, charged with years of suppressed longing. His hands slid up the curve of your back, fingers threading through your hair as he pressed you more firmly against the counter, the solid warmth of his body making you dizzy with want.

But then, as quickly as the moment had ignited, Jongho wrenched himself away, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. "Wait," he rasped, his voice rough with barely contained emotion. "We can't... we shouldn't do this. Not like this."

"Why not?" you whimpered, your hands still clutching at his shirt, trying to draw him back to you, missing his warmth already.

"Because you're drunk," he said, his tone firm despite the obvious desire still burning in his eyes, making them dark and intense. "And I... god, I want this - want you - too much to let it happen this way. You deserve better than some rushed, drunken makeout session in your kitchen that you might not even remember clearly tomorrow."

"Jongho..." you purred, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. The wine had completely demolished your filter, leaving your desires bare and unrestrained. "I've thought about this... about us... so many times..."

Jongho's jaw clenched visibly, his hands gripping your waist a fraction tighter. "Y/N," he warned, his voice strained. "You're making this very difficult."

"You're kind of adorable when you're being responsible," you giggled, swaying forward to rest your forehead against his chest. "But fine, have it your way. I'll be good." The words came out more suggestive than you'd intended, and you felt Jongho's sharp intake of breath.

He shifted slightly, maintaining a respectful distance while still keeping you steady. "Let's get you to bed," he said softly, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument.

Letting out a small sigh of defeat, you let him guide you toward your bed, your steps still slightly unsteady. "You're no fun," you mumbled, even as your eyelids grew heavier with each step. "But you're still pretty..."

Jongho smiled fondly as he guided you toward the bathroom instead, his warm hand steady against the small of your back. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter - even through your wine-induced haze, you could see the tender concern in his eyes, mixed with something deeper that made your breath catch.

"Let's get you cleaned up first," he said softly, his voice warm and gentle as he steadied you with one hand while reaching for your toothbrush with the other.

"You're being very... what's the word?" you mumbled as he carefully put toothpaste on your brush, your body swaying slightly into his solid presence. The bathroom lights seemed to spin a little, but his firm grip kept you grounded. "Nurturing? Is that it? Like a big, strong, handsome nurse," you giggled, leaning back against his chest for support.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through you where your back pressed against him. "Someone has to take care of you," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear as he passed you the toothbrush. His hands lingered on your shoulders, thumbs drawing small, comforting circles that made you feel safe. As you brushed your teeth, still swaying slightly, you caught his eye in the mirror. The way he watched you, with that mix of amusement and affection, made your chest tight with emotion. His reflection showed everything you'd been too afraid to see before - the way his eyes softened when they met yours, how his protective stance betrayed more than just friendly concern.

"Are you gonna stay?" you asked around a mouthful of toothpaste, trying to sound casual but failing miserably, your voice small and hopeful. Jongho reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingertips lingered against your cheek for just a moment, sending sparks of electricity down your spine.

"I never planned to leave in the first place," he assured you, "Someone needs to make sure you drink water and take painkillers in the morning. Besides," he added, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror, "there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now."

You shuffled into your bedroom, leaning slightly against Jongho's steady presence as he carefully guided you to sit on the edge of your bed. His movements were deliberate and gentle, ensuring you remained balanced despite your slightly unsteady state. With remarkable foresight and consideration, he made his way to your dresser, retrieving your pajamas and holding them out to you with one hand while the other dramatically covered his eyes, his fingers splayed in an exaggerated gesture that made you smile.

"No peeking," you giggled, swaying slightly even while seated, your hand reaching out to steady yourself against the mattress. "Such a gentleman..."

"I'll turn around," he said firmly, though you could hear the barely contained smile in his voice, "Just let me know when you're done changing, okay?"

"But what if I need help?" you teased, watching with delight as the tips of his ears turned a delicate shade of pink, the blush creeping down his neck. "These buttons can be so tricky..."

"Y/N..." His voice carried a warning tone, though it was impossible to miss the undercurrent of affection and obvious amusement in his words. "You're making this whole 'being responsible' thing incredibly challenging, you know that?"

"Fine, fine," you conceded with an exaggerated sigh, waving your hand dismissively. "Turn around then, Mr. Proper," you mock-pouted, watching as he obediently spun to face the wall. As you managed to change into your pajamas with surprisingly minimal stumbling, you couldn't help but notice how Jongho kept his word, standing perfectly still with his back turned, his shoulders tense with the effort of maintaining composure. You had to admit, his steadfast determination to be proper and gentlemanly was endearing, even if your wine-influenced mind desperately wanted to test those carefully constructed boundaries. With a mischievous grin spreading across your face, you waited until he was fully turned around, completely unsuspecting, before carefully unhooking your bra under your shirt. In one fluid motion that was far more coordinated than you expected given your current state, you managed to pull it free from your sleeve and, with surprisingly good aim, tossed it directly at him, watching with gleeful satisfaction as it landed perfectly draped across his broad shoulder.

"Oops," you giggled with exaggerated innocence, trying and failing to suppress your laughter. "How did that get there? Must have slipped..."

Jongho froze completely, his shoulders tensing visibly beneath his hoodie. You could practically see him counting slowly to ten in his head, his fingers flexing at his sides before he carefully, deliberately reached up and removed the garment without turning his head even slightly, holding it out behind him with two fingers. "Y/N..." his voice was delightfully strained but unmistakably amused, a combination that made you want to test his resolve even further. "You're absolutely impossible, you know that?"

"I prefer the term 'delightfully challenging,'" you quipped back, finally pulling your pajama top on and smoothing it down. "Okay, I'm decent now. More or less. Probably more less than more, but who's counting?"

He turned back around slowly, cautiously, as if expecting another piece of clothing to come flying his way. A soft smile played at his lips despite his obvious attempt to maintain his composure, and when his eyes met yours, they were warm and tender, yet still carrying that hint of careful restraint that had characterized the entire evening.

"Let's get you tucked in," he said gently, moving to help you under the covers, his hands steady and sure.

"Can you... Stay with me?" you asked softly, your voice suddenly sleepy, all the previous playfulness melting into vulnerable honesty. "Just to cuddle? I promise I'll behave this time... mostly."

Jongho hesitated for a moment, his expression softening visibly as he looked down at you. "Alright," he conceded with a gentle smile that made your heart skip. "But you need to actually sleep, okay?"

You nodded eagerly, watching as he pulled off his hoodie with careful movements, leaving him in his soft, oversized t-shirt and comfortable sweatpants. The bed dipped slightly under his weight as he slipped under the covers beside you, and you immediately gravitated toward his warmth like a moth to flame. Your head found its perfect resting place on his chest, the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat more soothing than any lullaby could ever be. His arms wrapped around you protectively, one hand resting securely on your back while the other began to stroke your hair with such tender care that you felt yourself melting into his embrace.

"Comfortable?" he murmured softly, his voice rumbling pleasantly in his chest beneath your ear, the vibrations sending waves of contentment through your entire body.

"Mmhmm," you hummed contentedly, already feeling the gentle pull of sleep starting to cloud your consciousness. "You're so warm... and safe... like my own personal guardian angel..."

The last thing you registered before drifting off into peaceful slumber was the gentle, almost reverent press of his lips against your forehead and his whispered "Sweet dreams," the words carrying more tenderness than you'd ever heard before.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[myownperception83]

Also thinking about Melissa's "I was no longer one of you".

We know they are pretty tight as a group with all that has happened, both in good and bad and we also know she and Gen became close to Hannah.

So what made it so bad that she had to fake a suicide? Did she free Hannah at some point? Or defended her by going directly against Shauna's decision?

It's good that she recognized she wasn't in love with Shauna, but only infatuated by her capacity of tapping into the worst parts of her and finding it cathartic in a way.

I like how their conversation evolved into the boring vs unhinged. We see Shauna craving for danger, for something to fuck her life up. Be it Adam, trying to find out about Jeff's affair or their blackmailer.

Stealing her van back, terrorizing a man by describing how badly she wants to cut him up.

Saying Melissa won't turn up to be fucking boring, unreleased scripts saying the same about Adam. Jeff admitting he is boring and that Shauna craves for more.

She despises being boring because she was afraid that she was all ever going to be and her argument against Jackie was actually just a projection of what she felt about herself as a spot on the wall in Jackie's room. She tries to hide who she really is, but her desire for destruction is far too strong.

She hates herself, but she wants to drag everyone down with her anyway.

And, in a way it turned out to be true. Did she go to college at the end? Did she get that degree she wanted?

Even if she did, Shauna ended up as a dependent stay at home mom.

She values her intelligence immensely, but once again, she chose the safe, coward way. She married the last relic of Jackie, Jeff who actually loves her.

She has a daughter who mirrors her unborn son. Everything that happened haunts her.

Too afraid to get closer to her family, too disgusted by the normality of it all? She perks up significantly when she kills the rabbit.

The Yellowjackets doom themselves because they believe they can never atone for what they've done.

Those who try to forget end up getting consumed by it anyway. See Tai, see Van, but also Nat and Lottie who never truly forgot and reminded themselves day after day.

"We don't get to be lucky." Taissa

"We don't get to have a normal life." Shauna

Melissa does, but as soon as she knows about what happened at Lottie's compound she daydreams vivid nightmares and can't let it go. She marries the daughter of a woman they killed.

Shauna's so angry that they stopped searching them, but after months what did she really expect. Friends and family don't have the financial means to fund a whole private search party.

[whatifitis]

♡ you're losing me - LN 4 ♡

Summary: How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?

Author's note: wrote this in about an hr and it's probably the worst thing ever :D also i'm trying to use that divider but idk about it so lmk your thoughts pls. also this is NOT proofread

WC: 1510

CW: angst, overuse of song references, mentions of looking like death i think?

“You just don’t understand.” Lando starts.

I know you don’t.

When he looks back at you, all he sees is your figure standing across the room from him. Dark circles wrapping around your eyes that now seem vacant of anything, not that he had noticed.

Is it time? Do you have to throw out everything you two built? The life you built? The love? The person who was supposed to be home?

Lando continues, “It’s getting busy as the year progresses and I’m under a lot of pressure from the team. It’s not my fault you feel like this. Maybe go outside or something. Make some friends here in Monaco.”

“What? Are you being serious right now?” you look at him, baffled.

“Yeah? Or maybe we can get a dog and he can keep you company when I’m gone.” the boy shrugs.

“Lando, you’re not fucking listening. I don’t need to go outside or make some friends in this city. I do go out and I do have friends here, plenty actually. And I don’t need a dog to keep me company. What I need is my boyfriend to actually love me.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I do love you and you know that.” he laughs.

“Do I? When was the last time you called me? Not me picking up the phone and dialing your number. When was the last time you called me just to talk to me?”

“I- I calle-”

“When was the last time you texted me without me having to remind you that I exist?”

“That’s not true. Stop being stupid.”

“A year” you shouted at the person before you, “It’s been a year since you’ve ever initiated a call or text. If I didn’t call or text you, you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Babe, nah. It’s just that you get to it first cause of the time zones and shit. It’s not on me.”

“3 weeks.” you said flatly.

“What?” he asks, almost bored already of the conversation.

“3 weeks is the longest I went without calling or texting you first. Those 3 weeks, I didn’t hear a word from you. I had to watch your life through pictures on the internet. I had to talk to our friends to see how you were doing. 3 weeks where I was without the person I love because he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because now he’s bored.”

“What the fuck are you on about? That’s not fuckign true at all. We talk everyday.”

“See?! You never noticed. You came home after those 3 weeks and didn’t mention the fact that we hadn’t spoken in almost a month. Do you know how embarrassing it is when I get asked how my boyfriend is and I don’t have an answer because he forgot about me?”

“That didn’t happen. You’re being dramatic.”

“Yeah? Check your phone right now. Do it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Lando pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the messages between the two of you. You watch as he scrolls for 10 seconds before he realizes it.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“Sure” you scoff. The three week trial of you not texting him started three weeks ago today. He left for Australia three weeks ago today and you hadn’t initiated a call or text with him since. The person you have loved for so long, didn’t notice that for the past three weeks, you were gone.

“I’m really tired, baby. Let’s just get some sleep. I’ll make it up to you.” Lando says as he walks over to you but you put your hand out to stop him before he can reach you.

“There’s no need.” you say.

“There is though. I messed up so I’ll make it up to you, yeah? We can go out tomorrow and get breakfast or something.”

“No, Lando. There’s no need because I won’t be here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Tomorrow, when you wake up, I’ll be gone. I’m moving out. We’re done.”

“No. Wait. We can talk through this. It’s one little argument. I noticed my mistake and I’m going to make it up to you.”

“You’re not fucking listening! I’ve been going crazy and trying to convince myself that it would go back to normal or that maybe you’d love me again. But it’s so clear now that this isn’t coming back. We aren’t coming back from this. I’ve been sitting here dying everyday, hoping, praying that you would come back to me. I hoped that it was all in my head. I hoped that I’d lost you. I stayed for so long, but now we’re too far gone.” you’re nearly screaming, feeling your throat grow dry as tears well up in your eyes.

“I am here though.”

“No, you’re fucking not. You’re never here. I know you won’t be home a majority of the time. I knew that when I fell in love with you. I knew what this life came with when I signed up. But when you’re here, you’re not really here. You’re always on your computer playing games or out playing padle with people. And the rare times you’re here inside what is supposed to be our home, you’re on your phone talking to god knows who. Or you’re sitting on the couch scrolling and forgetting I exist. Forgetting that there is a person here.”

“We can fix that. Do you wanna join me for padle? We can also find some video games for us to play. I’m sure there’s one we'll like.”

You bring your hands to your head, as if trying to keep your mind from slipping apart, “Oh god. You still don’t fucking get it.”

“Get what? You’re telling me that I never text or call you first so I’ll start doing it again. And I’ll plan more shit with you. What’s the problem? I’m giving solutions to everything you’re talking about.” he says, completely done with the conversation.

“You’ve been losing me for the better part of a year and all you have to say is that I’m ridiculous. You’re not giving me the answers that tell you you’re actually listening to what I’m saying. I used to never doubt us and our love because you never showed me I had to. You used to talk to me. You used to hold me in your arms and tell me it would be okay. You used to tell me you loved me… you used to love me.” the tears you’ve been keeping in are now spilling down your pale face.

“I do love you. And I didn’t say you’re being ridiculous but now I will because this is so fucking stupid. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I will. This mind game shit is getting exhausting now, honestly.”

“I didn’t realize my pain was such an imposition. I gave you everything. I fought every battle by your side on the front lines. I gave you all my best me’s. I bled and bled as you watched the life pour out of me and you didn’t do shit.”

Lando snorts, “I didn’t ask you to do all that. It’s absurd that you do that too. You’re just such a pathological people pleaser. It’s not on me that you did all that. That was all you. Now, just calm down and come to bed.” he says as he starts to make his way to what used to be your shared bedroom.

But once he gets to the room, all your stuff is already gone. Your favorite book isn’t on your side of the bed, your clothes aren’t in the closet, your guitar isn’t in the corner anymore. All the picture frames that once adorned the walls and surfaces of your room were now faced down.

Lando can’t believe it. It’s like you were completely erased from the bedroom. He begins to retreat back to the living room where he just saw you but as he walks back, he notices the hallway is also vacant of your belongings. By the time he reaches the living room, you’re gone. All that’s left of you is the smell of your favorite perfume. The one he’d bought for you for your first Christmas together. But after a few moments, that smell is gone.

He had a whole year to realize how much he had been dismissing you. A whole year in which you lost color in your face. But it’s too late. Now you’re up and gone.

Lando tried to reach you. He ran out the door to see if he could stop you before you got too far but you had vanished. Phone call after phone call went unanswered. When he got back to what used to be the home he shared with you, his legs gave out and he fell to the floor. It hurts to miss you but it’s worse to know that he’s the reason you won’t come home.

[440mxs-wife]

After All This Time

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader. Other characters: Sam, Jody, Charlie, Benny (not a vampire), OFC Paulina Foster. Mentioned: Donna, Eileen, OMC "Shadow" (friend of Paulina), Reader's ex and her boss.

Word Count: 13,753 (I know, it's a whopper)

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, Fake Dating, Best Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Mean Girl, a little light cursing

Summary: Reader moves into the apartment across the hall from Dean. They meet under less than ideal circumstances, but become best friends, which evolves into "more than friends" territory. A new resident, Paulina Foster, moves in a couple of doors down from Dean, and he's determined to ask her out. Only, she doesn't want anything to do with him. One night while out drinking, the Reader casually mentions that Dean needs a fake girlfriend to catch Paulina's attention. He seizes on the idea, and asks the Reader to be that for him. Unable to turn him down, she agrees, only it works a little too well. Will the Reader ever get the chance to declare her feelings, or will she have to let him go?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you sure she said she'd be here this time?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. When all you answered him with was a raised eyebrow, he hung his head and sighed in defeat. "Okay, well, maybe I overheard her say to her friends that she might be here tonight. I didn't hear if they specified an arrival time," he admitted.

For the last six weeks, you've had to hear about this "perfect" woman, Paulina Foster, who recently moved in two doors down from Dean's apartment. For the last six weeks, he's told you about nearly every conversation, however brief, he's had with her in the hall. For the last six weeks, he's been upset that she's ignored him or turned him down every time he's asked her out on a date. And because of her, for the last six weeks, you've suppressed the urge to tell Dean how you feel about him.

Dean has been your best friend since you moved to town five years ago from New York City. You had broken up with your boyfriend after finding out that he cheated on you with another woman. To add insult to injury, the "other woman" was your direct supervisor, and she wasn't shy about holding it over your head. She reminded you at every opportunity that you weren't enough for him, but that she was, and thus was able to steal him away from you.

Because working for her was no longer an option, and a transfer to another department wasn't available, you gave your notice. Well, sort of. Before leaving for lunch, you discreetly packed your few personal items in your messenger bag. Then you dropped off your badge at the security desk, waved goodbye to the guard on your way out, and never looked back.

A week later, you moved into Dean's apartment building, across the hall from his place, in a spacious 2-bedroom unit. The second bedroom doubled as a guest room and your office, since you now worked remotely as a freelance writer. Your file was assigned to Charlie Bradbury, who was your point of contact for your employer. She functioned as a sort of "handler," to whom you uploaded your work for approval and publication. As a nice bonus, she became your other best friend along the way.

The first time you met Dean was on a Friday night, about three weeks after you'd moved in, on a day in which nothing went right for you. First, you woke up late for an important meeting, with no time to shower, so you had to slog through it looking less than ideal on camera. Then there were no coffee grounds in the canister. Later, you grabbed a quick bite for lunch, then used the rest of your break to shower and feel human again. When you got re-dressed, you noticed a hole in your favorite pair of socks.

As you returned to working through your daily assignments, more trouble revealed itself. Your internet connection began having intermittent outages due to "scheduled network maintenance," or so the provider told you. Quitting time couldn't come soon enough, except the more you wanted the day over, the more it seemed to pass at negative turtle speed. Once it was over, all you wanted to do was pour yourself a glass of wine, pull on your favorite hoodie, and curl up with a good book.

Unfortunately, none of those things was in the cards for you that night. Loud music and laughter from the apartment next door were the straws that broke the camel's back. You decided to emphatically express your displeasure to your inconsiderate neighbor. Depending on how that went, you were aware it could mean total avoidance of all future contact with said tenant.

You threw open the window in your spare bedroom that led out to the fire escape, the one you so happened to share with Dean's apartment. In your haste to chastise your partying neighbor, you misjudged the opening to your window and smacked your forehead on the frame. Hard.

Cursing and holding your head from the impact, you took several deep breaths to try and ease the pain that was beginning to make itself known. More slowly this time, you poked your head out the window and glanced to your right, where you could see a few people laughing, drinking, and talking together.

One of them turned in your direction, and with a friendly smile, raised his cup filled with his chosen beverage in a salute to you. "Ah, bonsoir, chérie! We're having a little party over here to celebrate the start of the weekend! If you want, it's not too late to come on over and join us, 'cuz we're just getting started," the man proclaimed, his smile growing wider.

You winced at his boisterous greeting and the continued loud music, which was doing nothing to ease the escalating agony in your head. "No, I think--ow," you gasped. "I think I'll--'celebrate' from over here, thank you," you gritted out. "But, if you could please keep the noise down--"

"Wait, hold on there a minute, chérie. Are you okay? What happened?" the man asked.

"I'm fine, just hit my head," you replied wearily. "Look, it's been a really rotten day for me, and I would love some peace and quiet. So, again, if you could--"

The man poked his head back into the apartment and yelled, "Hey, Dean!" A few seconds later, another man appeared. The one he called "Dean" had spiky, sandy blond hair, and broad shoulders, which were covered in red and black flannel, from what you could see of his body.

"Whatsamatter, Benny, you need another drink already or something?" Dean joked. Benny leaned over to whisper in Dean's ear, and you wondered what they could possibly be talking about. You didn't have to wait long, because Dean's smile dropped and his eyes shifted in your direction, with what looked like concern on his features.

You could feel your head pounding with the beat of the music, and it was eating away at your ability to be polite about the noise. "LISTEN!" you shouted then immediately regretted it as you winced and felt a wave of dizziness crash over you. In a fraction of a second, Dean was scrambling out of his window and had crossed the fire escape over to your apartment.

"Hey, whoa, take it easy, sweetheart," he soothed. "I'm Dean Winchester, your next door neighbor. What's your name?"

With your head still throbbing, you managed to give him your name and watched as a soft smile spread over his handsome features. Your gaze was then drawn to his vibrant green eyes that reminded you of soft spring grass. His eyebrows were drawn together in concern, and for some reason, you had the urge to smooth out that crease in his forehead with your fingertips.

Before you could act on this impulse, Dean had already climbed through your window. Between himself and Benny, they were doing their best to guide you through your apartment. "There we go, sweetheart. Let's get you into the living room, to your nice, comfy couch, then we can take a look at that noggin of yours," Dean suggested.

You mumbled what sounded like "okay", which the men took as sufficient agreement to continue to the living room. Once you were seated on the couch, Benny headed for the kitchen to look for something to use as an ice pack. He found a package of frozen peas and wrapped it in a tea towel, which was hanging from your oven door handle. "Here you are, chérie," he remarked gently as he held out the makeshift ice pack to you.

"Thank you, Benny," you replied as you held it to your head. Eventually, he returned to the party next door, while Dean stayed with you. He must've said something to his friend before he left, because the volume on the music next door seemed to have decreased. You tried to tell Dean you were fine, that he should go back to his place as the host of his party. But he would have none of it, as he was determined to first make sure you were okay.

Over the course of the evening, you and Dean asked questions back and forth. You thought he was just trying to keep you conscious and alert in case of a concussion. In reality, he was using the incident as an opportunity to get better acquainted with his pretty new neighbor. The noise next door gradually dwindled down to soft music. On his way out, Benny poked his head back into your window to bid you both goodnight.

After that night, a friendship started to develop between you and Dean. It started simply enough, chatting about the weather while picking up your mail each day. As weeks went by, your time together expanded into meeting for coffee on Saturday mornings. The shop around the corner from your apartment building had the best pastries for you and pie for Dean.

While friendship was the easy part, your feelings at some point had shifted into the "something more complicated" category. His casual touches to your arm or the small of your back in a crowd, or calling you "sweetheart" only sped up your heart rate. However, he never gave you any indication that he thought of you as anything more than a best friend. So, you did your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach that appeared anytime you were with him and locked away your feelings.

Charlie knew of the situation between you and Dean, though she only knew what you told her. She'd tried several times to get you to move to Chicago, saying the two of you would have so much fun working together. Part of her argument was that if Dean hadn't made a move by now, he probably wouldn't, and that you might want to think about moving on from him. Off and on, you had given moving some thought, but hadn't taken any action yet.

That was until one Friday night, when you were out with Dean at the bar, as usual. He went up to refill your drinks, but it was taking longer for him to return. You scanned the room for him and noticed he was talking with some brunette while he waited. It looked like there was quite a bit of flirting going on between them. The next thing you knew, he had taken off with the brunette and left you behind without a single word.

Since Dean drove that night, you ended up taking a cab home, which made you angry because he'd left you behind. In fact, you were so upset with him that you looked up some real estate listings in the Chicago area. But then Dean called the following morning to explain. There was still some residual anger, which you expressed to him. Then he apologized and, just like that, the thought of leaving passed. However, nothing could've prepared you for how this night was going to end.

***

"There she is!" he whispered excitedly. His eyes followed the movements of a gorgeous woman in a glittery black bodycon dress, her blonde tresses cascading in waves down her back. The four women trailing behind her were no doubt her friends, as they were similarly dressed. You deduced that they must be the women Dean saw in the hallway as they chatted about tonight's plans.

When you took stock of your own appearance, you felt a bit underdressed compared to the newest arrivals. You were wearing black jeans, a red T-shirt with a small pink sequined heart on the front, black booties and a black cropped denim jacket. The outfit was comfortable, and you felt confident when you wore it. Up until now, that is.

"Did I tell you she smiled at me the other day?" Dean asked. "I'm making progress," he declared proudly.

"Yes, Dean, you did tell me that," you sighed. "You know, it's almost like you're some lovesick puppy, the way you act around her. You shouldn't make it so easy for her. Some women prefer the thrill of doing the chasing, to go after something that belongs to someone else and take it away."

"What?? Paulina wouldn't do that, she's not like that," he retorted.

"I'm not saying she is," you hastily added. But I'm not saying she isn't like that, either, you thought to yourself. "I mean, how else do you explain the many women who don't think twice about going after married men?"

"I s'pose that's true," he conceded.

You took a sip of your drink and chuckled to yourself. Dean heard your laugh and wanted to know what you thought was so funny. You tried to wave him off, saying it was nothing, but he was persistent. "I was just thinking....never mind. It's a stupid idea." When he still wouldn't let it drop, you sighed deeply before responding. "What you really need is someone to pretend to be your girlfriend. Once Paulina sees you're 'taken', she may change her mind and give you a chance."

"Wow," Dean whispered.

"I know, it was a dumb idea, which is why--" you didn't get to finish your thought because he interrupted.

"No, that's IT!! All I need is for you to pretend to be my girlfriend. If your theory is correct--and I'm not saying that it is--then once Paulina sees we're together, she'll say 'yes' to a date with me," he grinned.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, bub, I never volunteered to pretend to be your girlfriend," you countered. "And I said 'somebody', I didn't mean 'me'. Besides, if you go through with this, there's a real possibility that someone could get hurt," you reminded him. 99% chance it'll be me.

"I can't ask any of my exes, for obvious reasons. And as my best friend, you know me almost as well as my own brother does. Therefore, it'll be convincing," he pointed out.

"Dean......"

He turned to face you fully and locked eyes with you, then he took your hands in his. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, but I have a feeling about this girl. I just need to get my foot in the door with her. Will you help me do that by pretending to be my girlfriend?"

His eyes pleaded with you to agree to participate in this hair-brained scheme. If your theory was correct, then the arrangement may only last for a matter of weeks. Long enough to get the point across and create an opportunity for Dean. Also short enough that you can hopefully break it off without getting any more attached to the man who holds your heart. This has disaster written all over it, you silently mused. On the other hand, as long as he's happy, then.... "Okay, Dean."

***

"You did what?!?" Charlie nearly screeched into the phone. "Are you out of your mind?!?"

As soon as you got home, you called your other best friend for reassurance. Instead, she blatantly questioned your decision making skills. "It's only until this 'Paulina' sees us together and is convinced that we're a couple, then I'm sure she'll make her move," you muttered. "Which may not be too long, because I think it's already starting to work."

"What makes you say that?"

>>Flashback<<

After you agreed to be Dean's fake girlfriend, he whooped in excitement, then threw his arms around to hug you. He picked you up and twirled you around a couple of times before setting your feet back on the ground. As you looked around to see if anyone was disturbed by your outburst, your eyes landed on Paulina, whose attention suddenly shifted to you and Dean. Well, mostly Dean, but that was the whole point, wasn't it?

"All right, all right, calm down, Dean," you laughed, the butterflies flapping in full force.

"I'm sorry, just happy you decided to help me with this. Hey, I think there's an open pool table, wanna shoot some 8-ball?" he asked eagerly.

"Sure, why don't you grab the table and set it up, while I get us some fresh drinks," you offered.

"Okay," he chirped. Before he left, he leaned in and gave you a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek, then winked. You watched as he practically skipped on his way to the pool tables, while you stared after him, dumbfounded, your lips parted in surprise. The clanking of glass beer bottles behind the bar broke you out of your trance, leaving you smiling fondly at him while shaking your head.

Sighing deeply before picking up your empty drinks, you headed to the bar to order refills. You placed your order and paid the tab, then leaned your back against the counter and rested on your elbows.

While you waited, you watched as Dean finished the setup for the first game of 8-ball. On your way back from the bar, though, your heart sunk when you saw Paulina standing next to him. She was laughing and occasionally laying her hand on his arm. A deep calming breath later and with your mask in place, you closed the distance, placing your drinks on the nearest table. You stepped closer to Dean, slipping your arm around his waist and placing your hand on his chest. "Hey, babe, sorry the drinks took so long," you remarked, then pretended you didn't see Paulina until that moment. "Oh! Who's this?"

"Um, hey, sweetheart, th-this is Paulina. She's new to our building, lives two doors down from me. Paulina, this is m-my....," he trailed off at a complete loss for words.

"I'm his girlfriend," you supplied, along with your name. "You'll have to forgive him, Patricia, he's been stuck under the hood of a car, around wrenches and power tools all week," you giggled then turned to face Dean. "Should we start our game? You can break if you want to, honey."

He stammered out a reply in the affirmative, which Paulina took as her cue to leave. You watched as she gave one last appreciative glance at the way his jeans clung to his bowed legs and perfect backside. The way she checked him out made your blood boil. However, you had to remind yourself that this wasn't real. He wasn't yours, probably never would be, and he can do whatever or whomever he wants.

>>End of Flashback<<

"Seriously? He forgot your name?" Charlie asked.

"Like I told her, it was a long week for him," you defended.

Charlie rolled her eyes and snorted. "You've been best friends for five years now. The supposed 'object of his desire' finally talks to him, and suddenly he forgets your name? I'm sorry, sweetie, but this whole arrangement has disaster written all over it."

"Jeez, Char, tell me how you really feel," you grumbled. "And of course it does. How I let him talk me into doing this is beyond me. At the end of it all, someone's heart is gonna get broke, and I'm 99.9% sure it will be mine."

"Then why do it? Tell him you're backing out because you've changed your mind. Or, you could confess how you feel about him."

"I can't back out, Charlie. You know how I've been in love with Dean for a long time," you admitted softly. "And if I tell him that, I'm afraid it'll ruin everything. I don't think I can take the rejection when he doesn't see me that way. Nope, this is how it has to be, and it'll have to be enough. All I want is for him to be happy, even if it's not with me."

You talked for a little while longer before saying your goodbyes and promising to talk more later. After you went through your nightly routine, you climbed into bed and reached for the book you were currently reading. For some reason, though, the words on the page seemed to swim in front of your eyes and you couldn't focus. You knew why, of course. As if he sensed you were thinking about him, your phone pinged on your nightstand with a text message.

Dean: hey, in case I forgot to tell you, thank you for doing this. you truly are my best friend.

You: you're welcome. goodnight, Dean.

After you pressed "send", you switched on the "do not disturb" setting and returned your phone to your nightstand. Since it was obvious that you wouldn't get any reading done, you marked your place, closed your book, and slid it into the drawer. You turned off the light, plunging your room into near-total darkness, except for the bits of moonlight streaming through the slats of your blinds. As the minutes ticked by, your eyelids began to get heavy, until they finally closed for a much-needed but not necessarily restful sleep.

***

Dean stared at your last text message, wondering what you meant with such a short reply. He considered the night to have been a success. He finally got to talk to Paulina aside from the small talk that occurred briefly in the hallway. Though he was puzzled when you called her "Patricia" after he'd been telling you all along that her name was "Paulina". Wait....could you be....jealous? He dismissed the thought, telling himself that you don't think of him that way.

It isn't as though his mind hadn't wandered down this path many times before, of having something more with you. But as he'd said, you were his best friend. You know him almost as well as Sam does, and probably even better than Benny knows him. His mom adores you, and you were there for him when John passed away from a heart attack.

Ever since that night you met, with the way you had yelled over to his apartment to keep the noise down, he'd felt there was something different about you. Those feelings had only grown as he'd gotten to know you better over the years. However, he couldn't bring himself to ruin such an important relationship by confessing he was in love with you. Especially since there wasn't any concrete evidence that you returned his feelings. Once he decided he had no chance of a romantic relationship with you, he set his sights on the building's newest resident, Paulina.

He couldn't believe your suggestion of a fake relationship with you as his "girlfriend", but it made sense. It was human nature to want what we can't have. Therefore, when Paulina saw him dating you, it would make him appear unattainable. Sounded simple enough.

She would see it as a challenge to see if she can take him away from you. When she did, the theory will have been proven correct, and you would break up with him. Then he would be with Paulina, like he wanted. But why didn't that thought send a thrill of excitement through him? Is she even who he really wanted? Dean closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep, not quite ready to answer these questions.

***

A few weeks go by under your new "arrangement" with Dean, and though you were close before, the lines were becoming even more blurred. His touches lingered a little longer than usual, his smiles were a bit softer when he was around you. When you walked together, he would randomly grab your hand, intertwining your fingers, and give you a knowing smile. His hand on the small of your back or around your waist sent a signal to anyone who saw that you were with him.

His friends were starting to ask questions about your relationship, as were his mom and Sam. Some of them congratulated the two of you, with exclamations of "FINALLY!" rippling through the friends and family group chats. On your side, Jody, Donna, Eileen, and even Charlie remained cautiously optimistic about it, only wanting what was best for you. At the same time, they silently plotted a backup plan for Dean's demise, should he ever hurt you.

One night at the bar, you and Dean were on a double date with Sam and Eileen, with the women playing a game of pool opposite the men. When it was your turn, Dean left to get the next round of drinks, as it was his turn to buy. Sam took his shot, then Eileen took hers. You looked around to see why Dean wasn't back yet, then your stomach dropped when you saw the reason. Paulina was leaning up against the bar, keeping Dean company while he waited for the drinks.

"Who's that?" Sam pointed.

"Huh? Where?" you pretended not to notice.

Sam gestured again to his brother as he chatted with the mysterious woman, who was laughing and brushing her hand along his arm. "Over there, that woman," he remarked.

"Oh, her? That's Paulina. She lives in our building, a couple of doors down from Dean," you replied with a shrug, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Why is she touching him like that, and why does this not bother you?" he asked. "Do I need to say something to him?"

"Sam, no! It's not like that. She's just uh-a friend, a-and I trust Dean," you answered, swallowing hard to keep your emotions in check.

Sensing something amiss, Sam pulled you away from the pool table so your conversation would not be overheard, but he was still in eyesight of his wife. "What's going on with you two? I swear, if he's cheating on you, I'll kick his ass," he growled, ready to storm over to the bar.

"No, Sam," you placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "He's not cheating on me," you assured him. Can't cheat on a 'fake girlfriend', you thought bitterly.

"Then what is it? You two have been dancing around each other for the past five years. Believe me, we're all tired of the 'will they, won't they'. Now that you're finally together, it looks like Dean's eyes are elsewhere and you aren't all that bothered by it. So spill."

You took a deep breath trying to steady your nerves before you responded. "Okay, I'll tell you. BUT you have to promise to keep it between you and me. And do NOT let your mother know." Why should her heart get broken in all of this? you thought. Sam reluctantly nodded and drew an "X" over his heart, then you explained the situation.

"Wow," he exhaled deeply. "You know you're both idiots, right?"

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. "Gee, thank you so much, Sam, for your support. I'm so glad I told you about it," you retorted and moved to go around him and back to the table, but he caught your arm.

"Whoa, wait a minute. You're one for allowing him to use you like this, but I understand why. HE'S the bigger idiot for not realizing that what he's looking for is right in front of him," he finished softly.

"Charlie isn't too happy about the deal either," you shared. "She thinks this has, and I quote, 'disaster written all over it'. I've been in love with Dean for as long as I can remember. However, if that means letting him go so he can be happy with someone else, then that's what I have to do," you replied.

Sam brushed away the few tears that had slipped down your cheek. "You say the word, and I'll knock some sense into that brother of mine, okay?" he promised. "I have no problem smacking him upside the head, if that's what it takes."

At the mental picture he painted, you gave him a watery smile. "Thank you, Sam. I'll let you know if I need to call in that favor." You wiped away any remaining tears with your sleeve, then took a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Am I good?" He nodded, then casually slung an arm around your shoulder as you both walked back to the table.

By the time you and Sam returned, Dean was also back with the next round of drinks. He noted how close you were with his brother and felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy. Though he knew it was irrational because Sam had Eileen, it didn't completely go away, either. When you reached his side, he leaned in close to your ear. "You two looked rather cozy," he murmured.

You drew back slightly to look him in the eye. "No more than you and Paulina," you replied quietly, then moved to take your shot.

For the rest of the evening, the tension between you and Dean only grew, until you could no longer stand it. You decided to end your night out before midnight, claiming to be feeling a bit tired from not sleeping well lately.

Sam and Eileen were sorry to see you and Dean go, but assured you that they would likely be leaving soon as well. Hugs were exchanged, with Sam's lingering a bit. "'Member what I said," he mumbled. You patted his back in response, then pulled away and took Dean's outstretched hand.

***

The ride home was eerily silent except for the music on the radio being played at a low volume. "So, you're not sleeping well? How long has that been going on that you're not getting a good night's sleep, sweetheart?"

Well, you thought. Hmm. It could be because I'm in a fake relationship with my best friend. Except I want to be in a real one with him and I'm too much of a coward to say so. Or, maybe I wish that my heart didn't break every time I see some other woman touching you when only I should have that privilege. Perhaps it's because I realize I have no right to feel the way I do, not when I agreed to do this for you. Only you don't say any of this out loud to Dean.

"Been kind of busy with work lately, that's all," you shrugged. "Charlie keeps sending me assignments, and they're too interesting to pass up, so I agree to do them. Hopefully my workload will stabilize soon and I can go back to normal." You swallowed hard before you continued. "I saw Paulina was at the bar tonight."

"Yeah, I talked with her while I waited for our next round of drinks," he replied, a smile growing on his face. "Said there was this band playing at some club in a few weeks, and asked me if I wanted to go. She knows one of the guys in the band, and said she could probably get me in for free."

"Oh? Really? That sounds like fun," you replied, hoping you sounded neutral. "Seems like our little plan is working."

"Well, I wouldn't say it's working," he remarked. "It's progress, though," he grinned. You hummed in response and gave him a tight smile.

When Dean pulled the Impala into her parking space, it took all of your willpower to wait until he came around to open your door for you. The walk to the elevators and to your respective doors was quiet, the air filled with a tension that hadn't been there before tonight. Neither of you felt like talking, so it remained unsettled between you.

Though you lived across the hall from each other, Dean always insisted on stopping at your door first, and wouldn't leave until you were safely inside. You discreetly fished your keys out of your front pants pocket as soon as you stepped off the elevator, hoping he didn't notice. Just before you slid the key into the lock, you felt Dean's hand on your shoulder, causing you to turn around.

"Are you sure everything's okay? You've been kinda quiet since we left the bar," Dean asked.

"I'm fine, Dean. Promise," you answered, giving him a quick smile, then returning your attention to unlocking your door.

He snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot! Mom wanted me to invite you to dinner this Sunday. You know, now that we're 'dating'," he smirked and added air quotes.

You froze with your key only halfway turned in the lock. If you couldn't keep Sam from figuring it out, Mary was going to see right through you in a second. "I'm sorry, Dean. I wish I could, but I have something else going on this Sunday. Please give her my regrets," you finished, turning your key the rest of the way and gaining entry to your apartment. "Good night, Dean." You leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek then closed your door.

Dean stood and stared at your closed door for a few moments, then turned towards his own door. He shuffled across the hall and fumbled through the ring of keys until he found the right one. After he unlocked the door and opened it, he glanced back at your door. What is going on with you, sweetheart? Why won't you talk to me? he asked himself. Shaking his head, he entered his apartment, then he closed and relocked the door.

***

The following week, you and Dean were getting together for your usual Friday night dinner-and-a-movie. You had made some chocolate chip cookies and mini apple pies, while Dean was responsible for the pizza and popcorn. With a couple of bottles of your favorite beverage tucked under your arm, you stepped out of your apartment, locking the door behind you.

When you turned to head across the hall to Dean's place, you couldn't believe what you saw. Paulina and Dean looked to be deep in conversation, her hand running up and down his bicep, even occasionally squeezing it. Her other hand held a lock of her hair and was twirling it between her fingers. Knowing they wouldn't notice, you rolled your eyes, took a deep breath, and plastered a smile on your face.

"Hey you two!" you greeted them.

Dean took a small step away from Paulina and held out his arm. When you were close enough, he curled it around you and pulled you against his side. "Hey, sweetheart," he replied and pressed a kiss to your temple. "Whatcha got in the container?"

"Just some chocolate chip cookies and maybe some mini apple pies," you grinned.

"Ohhh, woman, you are too good to me. Love me some pie, especially apple," he gushed.

"So, what movie did you pick out for us to watch?" you asked.

"Nope, can't tell ya, 'cuz it's a surprise," he smirked, then turned to Paulina. "Now, if that heater gives you any more trouble, give me a call and I'll see what else I can do."

"Heating problems?" you questioned. "Probably best to have the landlord take a look at it, just in case, don't you think?"

"It's nothing serious, and I think I got it fixed for now. Ready for our dinner-and-a-movie night?" he inquired, giving you a little tug closer to his side.

"Absolutely. Have a good night, Paulina," you remarked as you followed Dean into his apartment. What you didn't see was the glare of pure jealousy on Paulina's face as you closed the door behind you.

***

Dean had ordered your favorite pizza and you put one of your two beverages in the fridge. You grabbed paper plates and the container of goodies, both of which you placed on the coffee table. Dean was busy scrolling through the streaming services to find the movie he had in mind for your evening. The strain between you from last week seemed to have somewhat dissipated, leaving behind two best friends enjoying each other's company.

Halfway through the movie, there was a knocking at the door. Dean paused the movie and the two of you looked at each other and shrugged before he got up to see who was there. "Paulina?"

Of course it's her, you silently muttered as you rolled your eyes. "Everything okay?" you asked. She strode into the apartment, wearing a thin tank top and a pair of pale pink boy shorts. Her arms were wrapped around her upper body, presumably in an effort to keep herself warm.

Seeing her discomfort, Dean rushed over and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, then draped it around her shoulders. He rubbed up and down on her arms and her back to start the warming process. He bent down to look her in the eye and smiled. "Better?" he wondered.

"Much better, thank you, Dean," Paulina replied. "Do you think you can fix my heater again? It's so cold over there," she practically purred.

"Shouldn't take too long," he answered, then caught your gaze. "I'll be right back, I promise." Without waiting for your response, he took his tool box out of the closet and headed over to her apartment.

For what felt like an eternity but was only a few minutes, the silence stretched between the two of you. Though you were convinced that this was some sort of setup to separate you and Dean, you decided to at least try and get to know her. "So," you began. "How do you like the town so far?"

She shrugged in response. "I guess it's not too bad," she remarked. "Wish it was bigger, though. More clubs to go to, then maybe we can get some decent music groups to play here," she muttered.

"Oh, that's right, Dean mentioned you had a friend in a band who's going to be at one of the clubs here in, what, a couple of weeks?" you inquired. "That sounds like fun."

"Yeah, they'll be here on the 13th, at Eclipse. Every time the band stops by, my friend gives me a couple of tickets," she responded.

The 13th? you thought. "That's my birthday. I don't usually make a fuss about it, except Dean does. He gets me flowers and then takes me out to dinner," you smiled as you casually checked your watch. What is taking so long? Why doesn't he just call the landlord to fix it?

"And, how long have you and Dean known each other? You two seem really close," Paulina asked.

"About five years now. We have a lot of the same friends, who also know each other outside of Dean and me. He's got a younger brother, who I would consider one of my close friends as well," you remarked. When she hummed in response, you detected a subtle shift in her demeanor. "What?"

"Oh, I just think it's....kind of sad, really. Pathetic, even," she answered, eyes narrowed at you.

You bristled at her comment and fought like hell to keep your composure. "What exactly are you getting at?"

"I mean, you've known each other for five years and you just started dating, while I've barely been here for a couple of months. And, he's over there fixing my heater instead of watching movies with you. Like I said--pathetic," she sneered.

"You wanna talk about 'pathetic'? 'Pathetic' is when you run around in shorts that are so skimpy, that your ass is hanging out of them. Or wearing tank tops so small your boobs are ready to pop out. All to get a man's attention," you shot back. "That's pathetic."

"Oh, and I suppose now you'll tell me that it's what's on the inside that counts," she mock-pouted, then let out a vicious laugh. "Maybe that worked for you for a while, but I know your ex cheated on you with your boss." Your eyes widened slightly at her statement. "Yeah. One of my friends told me what happened. She's friends with your old supervisor. Seems like you have a pattern of losing men to hotter women."

You rose from the couch, picking up your empty bottle and depositing it in the kitchen sink. "I think it's time I called it an evening. If Dean asks where I went, tell him he knows where to find me." With as much poise as you could muster, you left the apartment and crossed the hall to your own.

A few minutes later, Dean returned to his place. When he didn't see you at first glance, he thought you may have been in the bathroom, but the door to it was open. "Where'd she go?" he asked.

"Oh, she told me to tell you that she was tired of waiting around for you and that she was leaving. Something about having somewhere else more important to be," she answered.

Dean knew how much of a homebody you were and loved to hang out with him to watch movies. This made him skeptical at Paulina's response. "I'd better check on her," he remarked on his way back out the door.

"She won't be there. I saw her leave her apartment just before you got back. You know, I'm here, now. I would love to watch a movie with you," she purred.

He debated giving you a call to check in and make sure you were all right. On the other hand, the whole point of the agreement was to get Paulina interested in spending time with him. In turn, his hope was that it may lead to a long-term relationship with her. And here she was, asking him to watch a movie. "Let's pick out a new movie, then," he agreed as he reached for his drink and picked up the remote.

***

With another work week finished, you slowly closed your laptop and slumped back in your desk chair. There hadn't been much interaction between you and Dean without Paulina being around, not even when collecting your mail. He hadn't reached out to you after that disastrous dinner-and-a-movie night ended with you leaving his apartment early. You wonder what he thought when he noticed you were gone before he got back from fixing the heater. Or, more importantly, what Paulina had told him to make him not check in with you.

As you were contemplating what you should do next about Dean, your phone buzzed on your desk, causing it to dance around. When the caller ID showed "Charlie", you dismissed the pang of disappointment that it wasn't Dean. You plastered a smile on your face and answered as cheerfully as possible, hoping she wouldn't see right through you.

"Hey there, Charlie! How's it going?" you began.

"I wanted to ask if you still had that guest room all set up," she inquired.

"Of course I do, but why?" you asked.

"Because I'm about to give you the greatest gift possible for your birthday on the 13th," she replied cryptically.

"Ooh! Tell me, tell me, what is it?" you begged.

"I probably should make you wait to find out, but since I'll need someone to pick me up from the airport on the 11th--" she didn't get a chance to finish before you let out a squeal of excitement.

"AAAHHHH! No way! That's so awesome that you're coming to visit for my birthday! I will be at the airport with bells on," you promised.

She spent the next few minutes going over her itinerary with you, including her flight numbers and when to expect her to arrive. "I've also been talking with the others in the chat, and we want to plan a night out for your birthday. I'm talking dinner, drinks, dancing, the three D's," she explained. "The big question is, will there be a fourth 'D'? As in, will Dean be there?" she added cautiously.

You paused, reflecting on the events of the past week. "I....haven't talked to him much this week. I think we must keep missing each other at the mailbox," you chuckled nervously. "I--we--should let him know about the party. I'll give him a call, send him a text message, or something, so he knows about it."

"As long as you still want him there," Charlie responded carefully.

"Of course I do! Regardless of the situation with Paulina, he's still my best friend, and I want him to be there. Besides, he wouldn't dare miss my birthday," you affirmed. However, your voice sounded more confident than you felt at the moment, and Charlie easily picked up on it.

"All right, spill. What happened?" she sighed. You explained the events of a few Fridays ago, how Paulina interrupted in her skimpy pajamas and Dean didn't hesitate to run to the rescue. Then you relayed your conversation while you were alone in his apartment with her, all the horrible things she said. You wondered if that had something to do with why you and Dean hadn't spoken much this week.

"It's my own stupid fault, Charlie. I mean, this was the main objective, right? I pretend to be his girlfriend long enough to give him a chance to wedge his foot in the door before Paulina can slam it closed. Once that happens, I fade into the background and resume my role as his best friend, while he rides off into the sunset with his dream woman," you finished.

"Pity? Party of one? Your table is now available," she teased. When you didn't respond with even a half-hearted chuckle, she tried again. "Look, maybe that is what happens, where you go back to being his best friend, but it doesn't have to go down that way. If being with Dean is what you want, then you should fight for him."

The two of you talk for a little while longer before she gets a knock at her door with her food delivery. It occurs to you that you haven't left the apartment all day to pick up your mail, let alone get something for dinner. You'd survived the day by mostly nibbling on fruits and other snacks, plus keeping up with your water intake. Charlie comes back to the phone long enough to remind you to let Dean know about the party, then she says goodbye, thus ending the call.

***

After pulling on some shoes, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door. You hoped you would run into Dean so you could invite him to your birthday party. As you closed and locked your door, the one to his apartment was opening. But instead of seeing Dean, it was Paulina, leaving, dressed only in a towel covering her body and one atop her head. From off to Dean's side, she threw you a knowing smirk, her arms loosely hugging her body.

You quickly looked away and started for the elevator, only for luck to not be on your side when Dean called out your name. Pausing a little ways down the hall to the elevator, you turned to face him. "H-hey there, Dean," you waved tentatively. "I was just on my way down to pick up my mail, so don't let me keep you and Paulina." You gave him a quick smile and backed away a couple of steps before he caught your hand.

"Wait a second, this isn't what it looks like," he hastily remarked. Oh, that was original, he mentally face-palmed. "Paulina came over earlier in the afternoon, said her shower quit halfway through and asked if she could use mine. That's all. She's going back to her apartment, now that she's done." He looked at her pointedly until she tsked loudly and rolled her eyes in exasperation before returning to her apartment.

When she was out of sight, you glanced at Dean again. "There's no need to explain, Dean," you assured him. "That's the beauty of this arrangement, isn't it? You wanted a way in to spending time with Paulina. Looks like it's all working perfectly," you noted with a shrug, pressing the "down" button for the elevator.

As the two of you stood waiting for the elevator, there was an uneasy silence that neither of you were sure how to break. Dean tried first. "So, how've you been? Haven't talked to you since our dinner-and-a-movie night was interrupted."

Memories of that night came flooding back, including the conversation between you and Paulina, alone in Dean's apartment. Your eyes were cast downward, your shoes suddenly becoming the most interesting object in the world. "Uh, yeah, I've had a lot of new projects to handle, which has kept me occupied. In fact, this is the first time in a couple of days that I've even left my apartment, so I should have quite a bit of mail waiting for me."

"Oh," he replied. "Because when I got back to my place, you weren't there like I thought you'd be. I didn't think I was even gone very long. I guess maybe you decided that you had somewhere else more important to be, like out in town with friends."

Your head snapped up, eyes wide at his unusually snarky remark. "What??" you whispered. "Where in the world would you get an idea like that?"

"It doesn't matter where I heard it," he defended. "Look, if you didn't want to hang out with me that night, you could've just said so. Instead, you take off before I get back? Without a word? That's not like you. At least Paulina was there to watch The Breakfast Club with me," he muttered.

That was your movie. Yours and Dean's. It was the one you had watched together at least 100 times and could quote back and forth, no matter the situation. And he watched it with her?? You could feel the anger building and the tears stinging behind your eyes. There was no way you were going to let them fall in front of him.

"Dean, I had no idea how long you were going to be gone fixing Paulina's heater. Besides, as you pointed out, she was there, waiting for you, which was the whole point of what we're doing. Therefore, I'd say 'Mission Accomplished'," you added sarcastically.

"But--"

"And I didn't go out in town with anyone that night. I left your apartment and went back to mine, where I changed into pajamas, then went to bed with my book. Not that it should be any of your business, though. Because, hey, it's not like I'm your real girlfriend, right?" you retorted. As soon as the elevator stopped and the doors opened, you bolted through them. You ran past the mailboxes, out the entrance to your building and quickly slid behind the wheel of your car.

Dean rushed after you, but by the time he caught up, you had already backed out of your parking space. He stood hunched over, his hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. The surprised and hurt look on your face from what he said was something he didn't want to be the cause of ever again.

With a chirp of your tires, you sped out of the parking lot. You didn't know where you were headed, only that you needed to go somewhere to think. And there was no way you could do that if Dean was around. So, you hopped on the road to take you to the outskirts of town to get as far away from him as you could.

***

Dean trudged back into the building, now worried about where you'd gone by yourself at this time of night. He ran through your conversation in his head, wondering where exactly the wheels fell off. Since Paulina had gone home after her shower, he was going to invite you in for a redo of the Friday night that got interrupted. Guess that's out the window for now, he internally grumbled.

He thought about calling Sam to get some brotherly advice on how to make it up to you. But he thought better of it, because then he'd have to explain about what was going on between you. He couldn't call his mom or your girlfriends, either, because they'd tear him apart for what he said to you. I'm a man without a country, he mused.

When he returned from picking up his mail, Paulina was waiting by his door. "There you are, Dean, I was so worried about you. I heard what happened out here after I left," she gushed.

"I really don't want to talk about it right now, Paulina. You should go home, I'll see you later," he murmured.

"But wait! I wanted to tell you, I got tickets for us to Eclipse. You know, that club to see my friend's band?" she tried again.

Dean paused after crossing the threshold into his apartment. With his door still open, he turned around to face Paulina. "When is that again?"

"The 13th. I thought we could get all dressed up, and go out for dinner first, then we head to the club," she suggested.

"Let me check my schedule. I think I have an important event going on that night, so I'll have to get back to you. Goodnight, Paulina," he stated more firmly this time.

As his door was almost closed, she stopped it with her hand and pushed it open a little more. "Dean," she began, "are you sure you should be alone tonight? I mean, I'd be pretty upset if my best friend took off like that so late in the evening. Especially after an argument," she added.

Dean tilted his head towards the ceiling and heaved a deep sigh. "I suppose I could use some company. Might take my mind off of things," he agreed and opened the door to let her in.

Paulina had to work hard to hold back a squeal of victory, but she kept her composure. By the time you get back, Dean will be all mine, she vowed to herself.

***

Up the winding road you drove until you reached the top of Stargazer's Hill at City Park. You pulled over into a parking spot, then tucked your phone into your pocket. Some picnic tables dotted the open space, and were a short distance from where you'd parked your car. You climbed up on one and sat on the table, with your feet resting on the bench.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned back on your hands and tilted your head up at the glittery night sky. Now that you were away from all of the light pollution, it was easier to see the billions of points of light covering the inky atmosphere above you. On your right side, your phone buzzed with an incoming phone call. Caller ID: Sam.

You sighed harshly before picking up the call. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, Sam. Not right now anyway," you declared.

"Whoa, what's gotten into you?" he asked, bewildered.

"What, you mean your brother hasn't called to talk to you? I'm surprised," you replied.

"About what? Never mind. What did he do this time?" Sam inquired.

"Nothing. If he didn't tell you, I'm not going to either. Goodnight, Sam," you started to hang up but then remembered. "The only thing I will tell you is that Charlie will be here on the 11th, and she wants to get together with everyone on the 13th," you mentioned. Your friend group had met Charlie on more than one occasion. Fortunately, she fit right in as if she'd been around since the day you'd met all of them.

"For your birthday? That's great! What's the plan?" he wondered.

You mentioned that you and Charlie were going to spend the day together on the 12th, hanging out and catching up with each other. On the 13th, she wanted the group to go out to dinner somewhere, then for drinks and dancing at The Element, one of two clubs in town. You gave him the approximate times for each phase of the evening, in case he and Eileen wanted to join you.

"I think we can squeeze in some time to make an appearance for dinner and dancing. What did Dean say when you told him? I know he likes to make kind of a big deal about your birthday," he added.

"We're not exactly on speaking terms right now, at least I'm not. I'll send him a text message or something when I get home," you murmured.

"Wait, you're out by yourself? At this time of night?" Sam asked.

"Geez, Sam, I'm up on Stargazer's Hill in City Park. Not like I'm in the middle of nowhere. But don't worry, Dad, I'll be going home after I pick up something for dinner," you muttered.

"I am worried about you, somebody has to be. And if my brother's being a jackass, as I suspect he is, then it falls to me to worry about you," he defended.

"Okay, Sam," you sighed. "I don't feel like arguing with anyone anymore tonight. I'll text you with the info about the 13th." You said your goodbyes and the call ended. After placing your phone in your back pocket, you got down from the picnic table and walked to your car.

Once behind the wheel, you leaned your head back in your seat and took a deep breath. As angry as you were with Dean, you still wanted him to be there for your birthday party. You pulled your phone out and sent him a text message about it, then started the car and headed towards home.

***

Dean sat slumped on his couch, an unopened bottle of water on top of a wooden coaster that was shaped like a vinyl record. It was from a set you had found when the two of you visited the Rock N' Roll Hall Of Fame last year. His eyes focused on the phone in his hand, almost willing you to call it. All he wanted was confirmation that you had returned safely home. The rest could be figured out later, but there was no way he would sleep unless he knew where you were.

Paulina sat on the couch with him, but was keeping a respectable distance. At the moment, anyway. She could see the background of his phone was a picture of the two of you, fireworks from the 4th of July going off in the background. No matter, she thought. I'll show him that between you and me, I'm the better option as a girlfriend, and not you. "Dean? You've been staring at your phone ever since you got back."

He tore his eyes away from his phone to glance at Paulina, giving her a half-hearted smile. "I really wish I knew where she was, if she was safe," he murmured. "I don't like the idea of her being out there alone at this time of night."

Paulina narrowly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You know, I'm sure she's fine. Probably needed some 'alone time' to figure things out," she suggested.

"Maybe. But you didn't see the look on her face, Paulina. I shouldn't have snapped at her like I did. I need to apologize to her," he added. He stared longingly at his door, missing the flash of light at the arrival of a text message from you.

I have to distract him from his phone, she thought. "Um, Dean? Could I please get something to drink? A soda, or a water, maybe?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be right back," he promised as he rose from the couch. "I should leave this here, then I won't be tempted to stare at it, pathetically waiting for her to text or call. Here," he held out his phone to Paulina. "Will you please put it on the table, next to my bottle of water? Think I need something stronger."

She made a show of doing as he'd asked, but as soon as he was out of sight, she picked it up again. Fortunately, it was unlocked, so she wouldn't have to guess his code and risk locking him out if she guessed wrong too many times. She accessed the message app, found your text about the party and deleted it. Sorry, 'bestie', but all's fair in love and war, she smirked to herself.

***

When you pulled into your parking space at the apartments, you turned off the engine and leaned back against the headrest. A glance at your phone as it sat in the cup holder had you debating on whether or not to check it for a response from Dean. You didn't recall hearing a notification of a return text, but then again, your music was up a bit loud.

On the way up in the elevator, you continued to resist the temptation to check your phone. Before turning the key in the lock, you looked over your shoulder at Dean's door and debated on whether or not to talk to him. The decision was made for you when you saw Paulina tiptoeing out of his place, and was on the phone with someone.

You froze in place, not wanting to draw attention to yourself by moving. The last thing you needed was a confrontation with Paulina. As she walked away, you heard snippets of conversation like, "be there on the 13th" and "Dean can't wait to meet you". From what you heard, you figured it meant one of two things. Either Dean saw the message, ignored it, and made other plans, or he hasn't seen the message yet. For now, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, then entered your apartment and locked the door.

***

The next couple of days were spent getting ready for Charlie's arrival from Chicago and the festivities to take place on Saturday the 13th. Fresh sheets were put on the bed and fresh towels placed in the bathroom for her, along with her favorite drinks and snacks in the kitchen. You picked her up from the airport and grabbed some burgers and fries on the way home for dinner.

On the 12th, you went shopping with Jody, Donna, Charlie, and Eileen to find you the perfect dress for your party at The Element. You found a black lace, off-the-shoulder swing dress with a high-low hemline. A pair of black Mary Jane pumps with crystals around the edge of the buckle completed your apparel choices.

As you lay in bed that night, you thought about the events of the day, which brought a smile to your face. Your smile faltered a little when you realized you haven't heard from Dean at all since the day you stormed out of the building. Not even a reply to the text message about the party at The Element tomorrow night.

His silence made you wonder if your years of friendship were truly over, all because of the situation with Paulina. Though you closed your eyes, any meaningful sleep would elude you for some time that night.

***

All during the day on the 13th, your phone randomly pinged with calls and text messages from friends and family. Some of them would be joining you for dinner at Ravelli's, your favorite Italian restaurant. Those not going to dinner with you were going to meet you at The Element later that evening for drinks and dancing.

Each time your phone notifications went off, you eagerly checked it, waiting to see that one name: Dean. Though with everything that had happened recently, you weren't sure you would see anything from him.

Still desperately wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, you shook off the negative thoughts and continued to get ready. Before exiting your room, you pulled out your phone and sent Dean a simple text to see if, despite the tension, he would be at the restaurant. You dropped your phone into your sparkly clutch purse and headed to the living room to meet your friends.

At Ravelli's, the maître d' escorted everyone to the private room in the back. Appetizers were ordered, followed by your beverage orders being served. Once everyone had a drink in hand, Charlie proposed a birthday toast to you, bringing a warmth to your cheeks. Others followed, and the room was filled with laughter and other happy sounds.

"By the way, where's Dean? I thought for sure he'd be here," Jody asked, her gaze turned to you.

"I-I think said he's um....working late," you stammered.

"Tonight of all nights, chérie?" wondered Benny, who was sitting to your right.

"We-we haven't been able to see much of each other these past few days. Been busy working late at the shop, you know," you chuckled nervously. "Shall we order? What's everyone having?" you wondered in an attempt to diffuse the growing tension.

Once the orders were placed, you excused yourself to the restroom. After you washed your hands, you sent a text to Dean, asking him if he's on his way to meet you at the restaurant. One last check in the mirror, and you were out the door, only to run into someone on your way. "Oops, sorr--oh, hey, Sam!"

"Never mind that, why isn't he here? Did you even tell him? And what is this 'working late' business? I drive by the shop every night on my way home, and the Impala isn't there," Sam replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's going on?"

Your gaze dropped to the floor. "Not now, Sam. Please," you implored. "We really haven't spoken since that night, and truthfully, I've been kind of avoiding him ever since. He didn't even reply to my text message about tonight."

Sam swore under his breath. "That idiot," he mumbled while he thought for a few moments. He hooked his arm around you and pulled you into a hug. "Listen, I know he's my brother, but you deserve better than the way he's treating you. Find your happy, even if it isn't with Dean."

You pulled back to catch Sam's gaze. "Thank you, Sam," you whispered. You gave him one last squeeze and returned to the table. Once you were seated, you pulled out your phone and sent Dean another text message before locking it away in your purse again. Sam had also returned and within a few more moments, your meals were being brought out to the table.

***

Across town at Eclipse, the other club

Dean's hand was loosely curled around his beer, with drops of condensation slowly rolling down the bottom half of the bottle. He was slouched in his chair, staring at the stage and waiting for the band to start. As such, he missed how his phone lit up with yet another text message, with someone asking where he was and why he wasn't with you.

Paulina arrived at the table in time to see the last one come through. "The band's about to start, if you want another drink or to use the restroom or something," she suggested.

"Yeah....," Dean murmured.

"These are great seats, aren't they? Right up front," she beamed. "Shadow really came through for us, like he always does."

"Yeah....," he whispered. "Wait, what? Who's Shadow?"

"He's my friend, silly, the one who got us these tickets. Seriously, are you okay, Dean? You seem a little distracted tonight," Paulina pouted.

"I'm sorry. It feels like I'm supposed to be somewhere else tonight," he replied, then stood up from his chair. "I'm gonna go to the restroom, splash some cold water on my face and I'll be back." He turned and gave her a wink before forging a path through the crowd to the bathroom.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, Paulina shifted in her chair with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. She was annoyed at Dean for being so inattentive tonight. And, to top it off, he'd been miserable ever since his argument with you, which was something she couldn't understand. Why would he want to be with you, when he can be with me? she inwardly fumed.

She glanced down in time to see yet another text message come through, this time from someone named "Jody". Immediately on its heels was a phone call from his brother, Sam. "Ugh! Why won't they leave us alone!" she snapped, swiping to decline the call. His phone wasn't unlocked this time, but she caught the code once when she was peering over his shoulder. A few clicks, then a few more swipes deleted any evidence of the texts and phone calls.

***

At the club, Benny picked up the first round of drinks, while Charlie slipped over to the DJ's booth to request a song. Before you knew it, the DJ announced that it was your birthday and the whole club sang "Happy Birthday" to you. Once the embarrassment subsided, Benny held out his hand and asked you to dance, which you accepted.

Though it was your favorite slow song, and it felt good to dance with someone, you couldn't help that your mind was definitely elsewhere. In the background, you registered that someone was talking to you, but the voice sounded as if underwater.

"Chérie? Are you all right?" Benny asked.

"Hmm? Yeah, sure, I'm fine. Why, what'd I miss?" you wondered.

"Nothin', I was askin' if you were having a good time. You've had that faraway look in your eyes ever since dinner or whenever anyone asks you about Dean," he replied.

Your eyes dropped to the floor and you cringed at being caught not paying attention. "I'm so sorry, Ben. It's not you, it's--"

"Dean," he supplied. You nodded sadly in response. "I hope you can forgive me for saying this, but he's not being a good boyfriend to you. He should be here, with you, on your most special of days."

"You're right, he should be," you murmured. "Only, I'm not the one he really wants." At his puzzled look, you launched into an explanation of the deal between you and Dean. He listened intently, nodding in the right places and didn't interrupt. You finished with a deep sigh and waited for his response.

"Well," he started. "That's really--"

"Pitiful, I know," you muttered.

"No, I was gonna say that's mighty noble of you to do that for him," he remarked softly. "He doesn't know about your affection for him, or, if he does, he's ignorin' it. But, with what you're doin' fer him, you've pretty much told him to his face. Any man who would go after some other woman on purpose after gettin' even a fraction of your love doesn't deserve it."

Tears prickled behind your eyelids, but you fought to keep them in check. "Thank you, Benny. That's probably one of the most beautiful things anyone's ever said to me," you affirmed.

"You're welcome, darlin'. And I meant ev'ry word," he replied with a grin. He tightened his arms around you a fraction more, while you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

***

Dean's phone lit up after the last song of the set ended. Caller ID said it was Sam, so he knew it had to be important. "Excuse me, I've gotta take this," he hastily stood up from his chair and walked outside of Eclipse.

"What's up, Sam?" he answered.

"Where the hell are you??" Sam snapped.

"I'm at Eclipse with Paulina, where the hell am I supposed to be?" Dean shot back.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe at The Element for your best friend's birthday," he retorted. "You already missed dinner earlier at Ravelli's. Believe me, your absence did not go unnoticed."

"What are you talking about? That's tonight?? Nobody told me about any plans for her birthday," Dean remarked. "We haven't seen much of each other for a while, and--"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, and I know about the little 'deal' you made with her to get Paulina to notice you. If you ask me, you're going after the wrong woman," Sam muttered.

Dean ran his hand across his face, trying to collect his thoughts. Maybe Sam was right, as much as he hated to admit it. But about this? He had to talk to you, let you know how badly he missed you....and to apologize. "All right, I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't let her leave, okay?" he pleaded.

"I won't. Just get over here and fix this, Dean. See you soon," Sam assured him.

He poked his head into the bar to see Paulina chatting with Shadow and the other members of the band between sets. She'd be okay with them while he sorted out this thing with you, then he would come back and pick her up.

On the drive over to the club, he mentally kicked himself for forgetting your birthday. It had never happened, not in five years, that he had missed it. Then again, he hasn't exactly been in his right mind since....Paulina. Could be Sam had a point, that he was going after the wrong woman. Time to find out tonight.

***

Seven minutes later, Dean walked into The Element, scanning the crowd for you. He works his way through, quickly says 'hello' to everyone in passing, and brushes off their remarks about where he's been.

He stopped short when he saw you on the dance floor with his best friend, Benny, whose chin rested on the top of your head. There's a sweet smile on your face and your eyes are closed as the two of you sway back and forth.

Dean felt the color drain from his face at the sight. When the song ended, you and Benny took a step back from each other, though your hand was still in his. Am I too late? he wondered. Wait, he knows how I feel about you, so why does he think he has the right to dance with you? His fists clenched at his sides at the thought.

As you reached the edge of the dance floor, you gasped at seeing your best friend. "Dean?" you whispered.

"Can we please talk? In private?" he gritted out.

You released Benny's hand and caught his gaze. "I'll be right back, Ben," you smiled.

Dean took your hand and you walked with him to an empty table. "Why didn't you tell me about tonight? Celebrating your birthday together is something we usually do," he pointed out.

"We used to do a lot of things, Dean. Key words, used to. And I sent you multiple texts about tonight, even after you were such a jerk to me that night," you seethed.

"What are you talking about? I never got any texts from you or anyone else. No phone calls, nothing," he snapped.

"Maybe you should check with your real girlfriend on that. I wouldn't put it past her to delete that kind of stuff off your phone," you accused.

"Of course you'd think that about her," he sneered. "Are you still pissed about what happened that night I went over to fix her heater?"

"It's not just about what happened on that last dinner-and-a-movie night, Dean. It's every time that woman is around, I cease to exist in your eyes. Which, yeah, I guess that's the point with this 'arrangement', isn't it. I just didn't–"

"'You just didn't' what? C'mon, tell me," he demanded.

You shook your head and started to walk towards the door to leave the club, but he caught your hand. "Let me go, Dean," you warned.

"Not until you finish what you were going to say," he stated firmly.

"I didn't think–" you stumbled again.

"WHAT?! Just say it!" he thundered.

"I didn't think it would hurt this much, okay?!?" you shouted. "I didn't realize how much it would tear my heart to ribbons to see you with someone else," you admitted. "I know, it's my own fault since it was sort of my idea, and I agreed to do it. I mean, you asked me to and it was important to you. I was willing to do whatever would make you happy, even if I wasn't. But now....it's best for me to bow out gracefully with what's left of my dignity....and my heart," you choked out.

By now it occurred to you that the entire club had gone silent, even with the music. When his grip on your wrist lessened, you ripped your hand away. Your eyes met Charlie's across the room and she rushed over to guide you out to her car. She helped you get settled then climbed in herself to drive back to your apartment.

Dean stood frozen in place as he watched you walk out the door with Charlie. He felt a pull on his arm and when he looked down, he saw Paulina, fury in her eyes. "Paulina? I--"

"Save it, Dean! How could you just abandon me at the club like that? First, you've been distracted all night. Second, you never came back from your phone call," she huffed.

"I'm sorry, I should've come back inside to tell you where I was going and made sure you got home okay," he admitted. "Remember how I told you I thought I was missing something important tonight? Well, I was, because I should've been here. It's her--"

"Birthday, yeah, I know all about it Dean," she replied sarcastically. "Your phone has been blowing up all night with all these annoying text messages and phone calls asking why you weren't here."

"What?" he whispered. "You deleted my notifications? How dare you invade my privacy like that!?!" he roared.

"They wouldn't leave you alone! All I wanted was one night out with you to hang out with my friends," she spat.

"Ever since you moved in, I've been trying to get to know you. I thought you were someone that if we got together, we could maybe build a future," he explained.

"I don't see why any of that has to change, Dean. I can see a future with you. We belong together," Paulina implored.

"Maybe now you think that's true, but before, you never gave me a chance to ask you out for coffee, a drink, a date, anything. You didn't show me any kind of interest until you thought I was in a relationship."

"That's not true, Dean. I was new in the building, had to make you work for it," she added weakly.

"Well, I don't play games. You know, it happened exactly like she said it would. You wanted what you didn't have, so you decided you'd take it--take me--from the one who did have me. Just to see if you could do it."

"So all of this was to prove a point?" she screeched. "You never were in a relationship with anyone?" Dean shook his head while fury took over Paulina's face "I can't believe you tricked me into believing you were with that--that--"

"Do not even THINK about finishing that sentence," he warned. "I may not have been her boyfriend before, but damn, if I don't wish that I was now. I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure it out," he remarked.

"I don't see what's so great about her," Paulina retorted.

"I'll tell you. She's supported me through everything I've done. Like when I bought the garage from Bobby when he retired, and started running my own shop. She was there for me and my family when my dad died of a heart attack. She's celebrated my highs and helped me through my lows," he explained.

"You'd rather be with a sappy, average little nobody, than a woman like me? I don't understand, how is that even possible?"

"Well, it doesn't matter if you understand it, because it's basically reality. I'm in love with my best friend. Right now, I owe her a massive apology and so much more. And this?" he motioned between them. "Is done." He turned on his heel and walked out of the club to find you.

"Oh yeah?? You think you're soooo special, Dean Winchester? Well, you're not. There are plenty of guys out there, better than you, and more worthy of my time!" Paulina ranted. She turned just in time to see your friends advancing on her position.

"I think it's time for you to leave. You're not welcome here, not after the crap you just pulled," Jody remarked, arms crossed over her chest. Echoes of the same sentiment rippled through your group of friends and even some of the bystanders.

"Fine. Let her have him, then. All he ever did was talk about her anyway. They deserve each other," Paulina muttered under her breath as she spun on her heel and marched out of the club.

"You bet your ass they do."

***

"Are you sure you want to do this, Charlie? I mean, if you don't want to cash in the other half of your plane ticket, I'd understand," you offered.

"I know you would, honey, but I'm sure. And I didn't buy my ticket, the company did, so in a sense I'm saving them money. Anyway, what better way is there to help heal a broken heart than a road trip with your bestie, I ask you," she quipped.

"Okay, you got me with that one," you laughed. "I'm almost done in here, if you want to wait in the living room for me." She nodded and gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving you to finish packing.

As you were zipping up your suitcase, you thought you heard a specific pattern of knocks at your front door. You paused then slowly walked out to the living room to listen, only to hear the knocks again. "What should I do?" Charlie asked.

"Sweetheart, I know you're in there. I'm so sorry for what happened. Please let me in, I need to talk to you," Dean pleaded. 

You looked to Charlie for guidance on whether or not to let him in, but she looked as undecided as you. "I've said all I'm going to say to you for the time being, Dean. Please, just let it go for now and maybe we can talk later," you tried.

"No can do, baby," he replied immediately. "It's been too long without you, and I'll admit it, I'm a mess. I can't eat, haven't slept much, if at all, and I....miss you. The sound of your voice, even if it's because you're yelling at me. Your text messages, whether short and sweet or long ones sharing your thoughts on life. Your eyes, despite how you love to roll them at me. And....your smile. I especially miss it, because I haven't given you much reason lately to show it to me."

By this time, tears are silently streaming down your face. Your heart wanted nothing more than to yank the door open and throw yourself into his arms. However, your head remained cautious, on edge, and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Despite your doubts, you decided to give in to your heart a little and gestured for Charlie to open the door. The man on the other side did indeed look miserable, like he hadn't slept in weeks. "Hey, sweetheart," he sighed, giving you a tender smile.

Still skeptical, you maintain your distance from him with your arms crossed over your chest as you allow him to enter your apartment. "What about Paulina?" you asked warily.

"Gone. We're done. Over with. Turns out you were right. She erased all of my text messages and declined my phone calls that said anything about tonight," he affirmed.

"That b---" Charlie blurted out, but stopped and gave you a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I'll be in my room if you need anything." From behind his back, Charlie gave the I'm-watching-you gesture.  You barely had time to suppress a small grin before returning your attention to Dean.

"Dean, I'm sorry that you and Paulina didn't work out. I know how much you wanted it to. Even though I wasn't your real girlfriend, the experience was better than I could've imagined," you admitted.

"You've thought about it? About us?" he asked.

"For a long time, yes. So many times I came so close to telling you, but then when you started to go on about Paulina, I couldn't say anything. Now, when the next woman comes along, I'll be pushed to the background again," you remarked softly.

"That's not gonna happen," he replied firmly, shaking his head.

"You can't know that for certain, Dean, and I can't chance it. My heart won't take it," you countered.

"I do know for certain, because there won't be any other women. The only one I want is you. I've thought about us, too, for a long time. I had no idea if you felt the same about me. I couldn't risk our friendship if you didn't love me the way that I love you," he confessed.

"You love me?" you whispered.

Dean nodded. "I do. After all this time, it's always been you, sweetheart. It might have taken me a little longer than everyone else to see it, but I am yours. Will you be mine?"

At his confession, more tears began to stream down your cheeks. "Of course, Dean. I always have been yours. Always will be," you added.

Throughout your conversation, Dean had been taking small steps towards you to close the distance between you. When his hand reached up to caress your cheek, you jumped, which elicited a nervous giggle from the two of you. He leaned closer and tenderly brushed his lips over yours, then drew back a bit.

Your hands slid up his chest and curled around the back of his head. You briefly teased the short hairs at the nape of his neck before pulling him closer again. When your lips met this time, it was like fireworks had gone off in a kaleidoscope of colors. To feel the movement of his mouth on yours was like a dream from which you never wanted to awaken. You could faintly taste the remnants of the beer he had earlier, while he licked away the coarse salt from your lips, courtesy of your margarita.

When you were almost out of oxygen, the kiss was broken, leaving the two of you trying to catch your breath. "That was amazing," he whispered, touching his forehead to yours. "I love you, sweetheart."

"That kiss was miraculous," you added. "I love you too, Dean."

From the other room, Charlie yelled, "FINALLY!!" You and Dean burst out into laughter at her statement as she returned to the living room.

"Hey, Charlie? I um....don't think I'll be taking that road trip after all. But I will still see you off at the airport tomorrow," you agreed.

"I figured as much," she smirked. "And don't get too comfortable, Winchester. You pull a stunt like this again and I have to come out and fix it? I. will. end. you."

"Understood, but I promise, no more stunts like this. Not now that I have my girl," Dean replied, curling his arm around you and drawing you closer to his side.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm going to bed, because I have an early flight tomorrow. Try to keep the noise down, huh?"

"I swear, only sleep. For tonight anyway," he grinned and waggled his eyebrows then held out his arm. "Ready, sweetheart?"

You playfully rolled your eyes as you hooked your arm around his. "Ready as I'll ever be. Follow me, my love."

When you reached the doorway to your room, Dean paused. "By the way, I'm sorry I forgot to say this earlier, but 'Happy Birthday, baby'," he remarked softly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

Your hand cradled his jaw as you gave him a tender smile. "Best. Birthday. Ever."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

@winchest09 @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @yourelivingwrong @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @lyarr24 @hobby27 @jessica-noel94 @jensengirl83 @wayward-dreamer @idreamofplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @winchesterprincessbride @ejlovespie @deandreamernp @emoryhemsworth @never--doubt @watermelonlipstick @makeadealwithdean @krazykelly @imherefordeanandbones @rooweighton @coleslibrary @soaringeag1e @sams-sass @phoenixisred @hintsofhoney

[lilfoxay]

oh fuck now I gotta sit here and think about if there's anything I could talk about for hours. I don't think I've ever actually just yapped at someone's face about a single thing for that long? but uh...

1. sex. and not like the science of it or anything, I can just steer any conversation into the direction of sex jokes and it's a blessing/curse that my friends have to constantly remind me is maybe not best exercised over dinner

2. video games. specifically story-heavy ones. I'm hoping to be a video game writer after I graduate because life back home was really boring (small town anyone) and I coped by playing a lot of games for escapism. I want to be able to do that for other people too. I still play a lot of video games, even ones that aren't as lore heavy because those tend to be really fun with my online friends :>

3. dragons. I don't know as many dragon facts as I probably should but I've loved dragons since I was little and if something has a good (or morally gray) dragon in it, I will want it. that's how my brother convinced me to try Skyrim, cause there was at least 1 good dragon. also my mom told me when I was a kid if you told me dragons weren't real I'd start crying and arguing with you. so...

4. complaints. does this count? I'm really pessimistic so I complain about things a lot. don't even get me started on how people act at my college, it frequently makes me want to punch things.

5. cats. cats ive had, cats back home, my emotional support cat here at college (shoutout to Honeybee), other people's cats, i like cats. sometimes I visit my friends dorm to check on her but mostly to pet her cat because he has a silly face (imagine a white Scottish fold with so much anxiety. he looks like a really lanky autism creature. I love him)

thanks so much for tagging me in this! no pressure tags: @mizzingyou @realbigpodcastslut

Thanks for the tag @whodoesnataliehave !

I was tagged to list 5 topics I could talk about for hours.

1. Yellowjackets all day every day!

2. Arcane ofc!

3. Music, esp Paramore or Lights but open to most things

4. Visual Art/Design/Comics/Graphic Novels etc

5. History and politics. I’m always about learning something new

No pressure tagging @firelilysky @mars-all-over @lais-a-ramos @lesbianforlottie @kings-paintbrush

and anyone else who wants to!

[ihni]

For Billy's birthday yesterday (I'll never get enough of birthday fics), only I didn't finish it in time so have it a day late, instead.

~~~

In theory, it shouldn’t have been that surprising to happen upon a drunk Billy Hargrove downtown. It was a Saturday night after all, and back in school Billy had been to just about every party there was and – as far as Steve was aware – still held the keg record to this day.

But the thing was, that things had changed since then. Because in the summer of ’85, Billy had almost died on the floor of Starcourt Mall, and he’d spent months in the hospital afterwards. Steve didn’t exactly hang out with the guy, but he still hung out with the Party and Max was part of the Party so … he heard things. He knew that Billy had been basically eviscerated and then painfully put back together, he knew that the guy had spent the better part of a year struggling to get back to something resembling normal, and he knew that he must have succeeded at least partially because Max had told them that Billy had finally moved out, just a couple of months ago. (He hadn’t moved back to California like everyone had expected, though. Steve suspected it had something to do with the thick pile of documents they’d all been forced to sign after the whole Upside Down debacle.)

Steve also knew that Billy’s doctors didn’t allow him to smoke or drink alcohol anymore, because Max had – on several occasions – complained about her brother’s bad mood and snappish behavior whenever she reminded him of this fact.

So in fact it was surprising to see him now, shuffling along the sidewalk in the middle of town holding a bottle of clear liquor, several hours after the stores closed. Surprising, and a little eerie. At this time of night, downtown Hawkins was pretty much deserted – it wasn’t like it was the entertainment hub of the Midwest, after all – so one single person stumbling down a dark, empty street looked … out of place.

Never mind that Steve was here, too. In his defense, though, he was just driving through town on his way home from dinner at the Henderson house.

And he and Billy may not be friends, but they both knew about the horrors of the world, and Billy had sacrificed a lot to save El (and, in extension, the rest of them). So while Steve didn’t plan on becoming best friends with the guy, he at least owed him to check in with him when he was obviously drunk and alone.

After all, he had being skewered through by the Mind Flayer. It would be a shame if he got killed by something so mundane as being run over by a car or choking on his own vomit after that.

So, Steve rolled to a stop on the side of the road and got out of the car.

“Hey, Billy,” he said, and watched as Billy did a double-take at the sight of him. “How’s it going?”

His answer was a raspy laugh. “Oh this is just perfect,” Billy muttered before motioning widely with his arms and raising his voice. “Steve Harrington, everybody! My night’s complete.”

Ignoring whatever that was supposed to mean, Steve nodded a little awkwardly in the direction Billy had been heading. “Where are you going?”

“What’s it to you?” Billy snapped, but then sighed and answered before Steve got a chance to comment. “Anywhere. Out. I don’t give a fuck.” He seemed to deem that the end of the conversation, and waved lazily with the hand not holding the bottle as he turned to continue walking.

Steve stopped him with a hand on his upper arm. “Hang on, Billy.” Billy ripped out of his grip and glared at him with eyes that had a hard time focusing, and Steve held up his hands in front of him in defense. “I just … do you need a ride?” For some reason, that had Billy barking out another laugh, but seconds passed without an answer so eventually Steve prompted, “Max said you moved out. Do you live nearby?”

The wry smile on Billy’s face turned into a grimace, and he pointed with the bottle in the direction from which he came, almost losing his balance when he shifted his weight. He didn’t look too good, and Steve didn’t have the conscience to leave him out and about all by himself when he didn’t seem to know where he was going. Also, if the police caught him out here with booze, they might throw him in the drunk tank.

“Alright,” Steve said in the same voice he used when trying to get young children to do something. “How about you get in my car, and I drive you home, hm?”

Billy opened his mouth to no doubt argue, but then he just … stopped. Before Steve’s eyes, he visibly deflated. Dropped the bottle so it split on the ground with a crash of broken glass, the liquid within staining the asphalt dark. Steve drew in breath to say something, anything, but Billy beat him to it.

“Okay,” he said, for some reason sounding utterly defeated.

(Read the rest on AO3)

[winchesterwild78]

When Eric met Mark

Master List

Characters: Mark Meachum x Reader 

Warnings: Slight angst, some fluff

A/N: Since Jensen has wrapped Countdown I felt the need to write a Mark Meachum one shot. Obviously I have no idea what the character is going to be like, but I do know he’s a cop. I can’t wait for the show to come out so I can write more of this character. Please enjoy. 

I do not own the rights to this character, but all work is my own. Please don’t take it.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

The California sun, a beacon of my escape, now felt like a taunt, a constant reminder of the warmth missing from my life. I'd come here for a fresh start, for the promise of golden days and a life unburdened by the past. Teaching filled me with a sense of purpose, my colleagues became my chosen family, and then, there was Mark.

Mark Meachum. He was a force of nature, tall and lean, with sandy blond hair that seemed to hold the sunlight captive. His green eyes, sharp and piercing, could see right through you, and his jawline, sculpted and strong, could cut glass. The connection was immediate, electric. We fell into each other's lives with a fervor that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Then came the late-night calls, the disappearing acts, the unsettling feeling of being kept in the dark. My accusations of infidelity were met with a truth that was far more dangerous: he was a cop, going deep undercover. The fear was a cold, constricting grip around my heart. He tried to reassure me, but his words did little to quell the terror that gnawed at me.

The months that followed were a desolate landscape of loneliness. The quick phone calls, the fleeting texts, were mere whispers in the vast silence. When he did manage to slip back into my life, under the cover of darkness, our time together was a desperate, feverish dance. He’d hold me close, our bodies entwined, seeking solace and connection in the fleeting moments we shared. Then, before dawn, he’d vanish, leaving behind only the ghost of his presence.

My home, once a sanctuary, became a haunted space, filled with the phantom echoes of his touch, his laughter, his whispered promises. I felt hollow, adrift, a ghost in my own life.

The charity event I was invited to was a blur of forced smiles and polite conversation. Then, I saw him. Those green eyes, unmistakable, even under the guise of a sharp suit and a carefully constructed facade. He saw me, a flicker of recognition in his gaze, and then, he looked away.

My friend, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between us, steered me through the crowd, introducing me to a group of people, and then, to "Eric." I extended my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. "Nice to meet you," I managed, my voice a strained whisper. Our eyes met, a silent plea passing between us, a desperate longing that mirrored my own. I wanted him, I missed him.

Later, he pulled me aside, into the sanctuary of an empty room. The kiss was desperate, urgent, a raw expression of the longing that had consumed us both. His hands moved over my body with a familiar intensity, a desperate exploration in the stolen moments we had. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I miss you so much.” His voice was raw with emotion.

“You clean up nice yourself, “Eric”.” I giggled as his lips landed on mine again.

My hands on his chest, “How much longer do you think you’ll be gone?”

He ran his hands through his hair, “Honestly I don’t know. We’ve uncovered something bigger than what we thought. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I know this is hard on you. I just need to keep you safe. The people we are dealing with are bad, and if they knew about you then they’d come after you.”

I nodded, “I know. I just want you to come back safe to me.”

He nodded, crashed his lips onto mine again. The kiss was full of all the emotions we were feeling, loneliness, need, want, and something else. Something deeper that neither of us had said yet. 

“Goodbye for now, sweetheart.” His hand cupped my face as he placed a softer kiss on my lips. “I love you.”

My breath hitched, “I love you too.”

He smiled as he opened the door and looked back at me with a wink.

He walked away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving me breathless, shaken, the ghost of his lips still burning on mine. The echo of our confession playing in my ears.

The sun still shone, but it felt like a cold, distant star, a cruel reminder of the warmth that was always just out of reach.

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[ranting-writer]

"Do you think he hates you?"

"Fuck, I don't know. He certainly likes to avoid me at seemingly any cost. He fell trying to skateboard away from me yesterday."

Rose hummed as she jotted down some notes.

She and Dirk sat across from each other on her purple velvet couches while she listened to Dirk talk about how Dave was avoiding him. He'd come over, something he rarely if ever did, and he'd plopped himself on her couch, bold as brass, and simply stated that Dave was avoiding him and he didn't understand why. Normally the two Striders were thick as thieves, had been since the game's end and Earth C was created, but of late, Dave had started avoiding Dirk. Which was very out of character for him, at least from Dirk's perspective.

Dirk's lips twitched briefly into a frown. "Stop taking notes," he demanded. "You're not a real therapist. I only came to you specifically because you're his friend and you might have insight into his behavior."

Rose sighed a bit, giving Dirk a wry smile. "Dirk," she said. "I know Dave, very, very well. But I need to take the notes so I can remember what to hassle him about at a later date."

"Jesus fuck, Rose. This is supposed to just be a talk between us. You and I. We. I didn't say I wanted you to talk to him. I just want insight, at the present point."

Rose rolled her eyes. Striders... Always pushy and griping and whinging about something. This wasn't the first time one of them came to talk to her about the other. Although, in Dave's case, it wasn't technically about Dirk, but rather about Dave's feelings around Bro that simply happened to be stirred up by Dirk. Not that Dirk would ever make the distinction himself.

"What if you don't like what I have to tell you?" she asked.

Dirk shrugged. "Then I cope and push on I guess," he replied, arms resting on his knees. "I just need to know if I did something wrong or hurt him somehow. So I can apologize."

Rose hummed, sipping her drink. "Well, it isn't necessarily you," she said blandly. "More about who you remind him of. Superficially of course." She watched as Dirk tensed up and clapped his hands together. This might be more delicate than she thought, but she continued. "As we have aged, we have begun to look more like our alternate selves. Roxy has plainly told me that she can easily see, for lack of better phrasing on my part, her mother in me.

"However, I do find it interesting that, despite having been the one to point out at one point that you look really nothing like his Bro, Dave has apparently begun to recognize his guardian in your face more and more. While on the other side of this, you have continued to see less and less of your own Bro in him. It's very peculiar."

Dirk rubbed his temples, groaning a bit. "And so far all I'm getting out of this conversation is that he's scared of me and you actually did inherit the propensity for professional yappery," he grumbled.

Rose sighed softly, watching Dirk agonize. She and Dirk hadn't exactly been close before, and they weren't now. In fact, they outright confided that they reminded each other too much of one another in some uncomfortable ways. Especially after one particularly uncomfortable incident where, in trying to emulate Dave and Roxy's weird mom-son/ bestie bond, Rose had called Dirk dad. That had certainly put a brief wedge in their communication...

Despite that, she truly didn't like seeing Dirk so uncomfortable and distressed. Dave was one of her best friends, and Dirk was very, very important to Dave, thus, Dirk was important to her. She wanted to at least try to help. Smoothing her dress, Rose spoke again. "It must feel odd," she said. "To hear Dave talk to lovingly about someone that he acknowledges hurt him."

Dirk shook his head, leaning back into the plush couch. He sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Yes and no," he said.

"Could you elaborate?"

"It's simple, in my mind. Bro wasn't entirely a monster and Dave genuinely believes the guy did the best with the tools he had available, emotionally and literally. He was also the most exposed to the bullshit paradox space, Lord English time nonsense compared to his fellow guardians in your timeline. And thinking of the portrait Dave drew, the guy was severely mentally ill with a lot of baggage.

"However, despite the abuse Dave endured, he is also able to recall plenty of times that he and Bro cooked together, went to events, went to fun locations, and had bonding time. It's difficult to separate the good and the bad when it comes to your abusers, especially if it's a parent. You should know this, Ms. Psychologist wannabe."

Rose smiled softly. "I do, know this," she said cooly. "But I was after how you feel about it, not your own clinical examinations of their relationship."

Dirk went quiet, staring at the ceiling after apparently deciding it was more interesting than the conversation. He sat like that for a long time, and Rose simply allowed his silence. She knew this topic had to be difficult for him to address, especially with her.

Eventually, Dirk spoke again, sounding unusually small and sad. "I worry that he talks about me like that. Dave, I mean."

Rose looked at Dirk, the tone of his voice piquing her interest. "As in... Saying that you've hurt him but loving you anyway?"

Dirk nodded slowly as he tried to reign in his control of his voice and face. Body language was whatever to him, he knew control of that was like trying to get an engine block to swim, but he wanted back some control over his body, even if it meant just his voice and facial expressions. "I worry I'm just gaslighting him into liking me. I did it with Jake and I think Jane."

Dirk sat back upright, leaning forward on his knees again. "Roxy was going to like me anyway, there's hardly a soul she doesn't like," he said. "Jane... Jane was sort of isolated too, but she was naive and she's always sort of been a baby sister to me in a way. But Jake..." He looked up at Rose, face finally schooled back into an expression of blank indifference. "I feel like a pressured Jake into a relationship," he continued to explain. "And that's why eventually our relationship broke down so hard. Because he started to realize I was being clingy and manipulative."

Rose raised an eyebrow. Could Dirk be manipulative? Absolutely. It was a trait she herself and even Dave to a lesser extent had. They liked to mess with people. However, in watching Dirk, she hadn't noticed much in the way of malicious manipulative behavior, or even abuse, that couldn't be chalked up to simply not understanding people and control issues. Dirk had lived alone his entire life, his only reference for body language was films and the put on facades of his version of Dave and whatever prefilled content he could get his lonely hands on. On top of that, Dirk had exceptionally minimal control growing up.

Dirk had spent his developmental years alone in the middle of the ocean, everything bad that had happened to the world was mostly far in the past already, and all he had was his robots, movies, music, sendificator, and a computer with an internet connection. He'd only had control over his machines, and even they had whims of their own eventually.

Dirk was also a problem solver. He was intelligent and quick to find and understand what he needed to do in order to get a desired result, even if he had to go to extremes (like sendificating his own decapitated head to Jake to kiss) to get it. It made his skin crawl and his mind itch when others couldn't see past themselves to the solution.

Of course, perhaps that last bit was due to his nature as a Heart player. Despite struggling with his sense of where he ended and his other versions, or "splinters", began, he still had a very good sense of who he was, what his values were, and where his loyalties lie. To him, it was frustrating that others seemed so oblivious to the fact that their own personal pondering on their identities was obscuring the real issues at hand. This, of course, led to him trying to take control from others at times.

Jake, for example. Jake was a bit cowardly early on, if excitable about adventure and the prospects of a good rough housing. Jake wasn't a strong fighter, if at all. So, to try and help Jake improve and better himself, Dirk took control of the situation and made Brobot for Jake to train with. He'd given it a variety of settings and an affection for Jake so the thing wouldn't kill the guy. He hadn't really given Jake much of a say in the matter, just started sending him the pieces as they were completed.

When they all needed to get into their session and the Medium, Dirk had taken every bit of control in the situation, resurrecting Roxy, getting his head to Jake, resurrecting Jane, and flying himself and the girls back to Jake's island as their session properly began. He hadn't waited on his friends to try anything, not that some of them could have anyway, he simply took action and saved them all.

Rose hummed in thought. "Dirk..." she queried. "Where exactly in your relationship with Dave do you think you're being manipulative and hurting him?"

Dirk hummed and shrugged. "I dunno," he admitted. "Maybe when it comes to things like... I guess everyday things? He isn't good at prioritizing tasks or getting things done, so I tend to take over and I believe that I steamroll what he wants to get my way. I tend to shut down his rambling arguments and I tell him what I view things to be in a... In my mind, manipulative manner and he just... Placidly accepts it."

Rose had a smile slip onto her face, even as she tried to force it down. This made Dirk frown deeply. "What?" he snipped.

Rose giggled. "Dirk," she said. "Has it ever occurred to you that Dave might have issues with ADHD?"

Dirk blinked rapidly behind his shades as he tried to process the question. ADHD? Wasn't that an attention disorder? Dave paid attention to things just fine, especially his interests and conversations with his friends. "That's... No. He pays attention fine."

Rose snorted and shook her head. "No, no, no," she chided, scooting to the edge of the seat. "Dirk ADHD is a dopamine disorder. Dave's brain doesn't produce enough dopamine causing problems with, yes focus, but also balance issues, sugar or caffeine cravings, sleep, overall mood, emotional regulation, executive function, memory, and honestly, so much more. It's part of the reason a good rooftop strife still makes him excited because he's getting a rush of adrenaline and dopamine. He's struggling badly when it comes to things like grocery shopping or organizing chores. He's actually probably grateful when you take things over."

Dirk stared a bit at Rose. That actually made quite a bit of sense, shifting how he viewed Dave. He had never gotten the sense that Dave was as bogged down by his perception of himself as much as other (sexuality and actual emotional expression aside, anyway), so it always baffled him that Dave seemed to struggle to get shit done as much as someone like Jane or John, or even Jake and Roxy. Dave felt weirdly self actualized in many ways to him.

Rose shook her head while Dirk thought. "Back to the original point of your visit," she said. "Dave being a mess of dopamine problems aside, I think you're just looking more like Bro than even he expected, so he's avoiding you. Presumably to try and spare your feelings on the matter."

Dirk huffed in annoyance. That made no sense to him. This was way more hurtful! He wanted to rap with Dave, play video games with him, drink coffees together, laugh at their favorite films... He missed Dave's closeness immensely.

Rose hesitated then murmured, "I recommend simply confronting him. Not aggressively, but simply ask him what's going on and if you can help or fix it in anyway."

Dirk nodded slowly. "Yeah... I can do that."

Before Rose could utter another word, Dirk was on his feet and swiftly walking out the front door. Shrugging, she gathered her things and headed to her office, awaiting an update from either of the Striders.

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 12)

…in which Pim comes out of his shell, Mipnessa is actually a total megabitch and two underwater edgelords get shmeckledorfed!

TW: Fatphobia at the end of the first paragraph and brief Transphobia at the end of the fourth paragraph, yes Mipnessa really is that much of a megabitch.

On the morning after his memorable conversation with Charlie, the sun chimed in with it’s warm rose-gold beams melting into the palace windows, waking up one particular guest who was currently at his happiest. Once the light hit his face, Pim’s eyes popped open, prompting him to spring out of bed like a frog and turn to the vanity desk, where he started doodling in his new little sketchbook. Sometime later, Chef Spitz rolled breakfast into the dining room with a smorgasbord of breakfast items to fill everyone up: toast, bacon and eggs, assorted cheeses, elderberry danishes, sweetbread made with spelt and dried fruit, and speaking of which chopped melon, apples, and pears. Everyone else followed the scrumptious aroma with their noses and immediately swarmed the dining room to dig in. Pim, who had never before indulged in a breakfast like this one, was in second-heaven! Pastries in the ocean where made with dried-out “cured” sea sponges, tropical fruits and cream-style cheese from seal milk, all in a stark contrast to the rich use of butter, flour and sugar. As Charlie grabbed a slice of sweetbread, Mipnessa made yet-another underhanded remark disguised as a compliment: “Watch out on the sweets, you’ll need to look good in your groom’s suit for our special day!” Charlie rolled his eyes as he further tuned out Mipnessa suddenly starting up a conversation about the golden pig statue back at home becoming strangely familiar in hindsight, though she claimed it was the decor of the palace. Queen Beatrice shot a subtle glare of judgment at the bride-to-be, who had started to realize that she wasn’t the good-girl she propped herself up to be.

~

While on their way back from handing over “the trident" to seal the deal Damien made, Alan was once-again internally freaking out while trying to maintain his cool exterior, remembering vividly upon how he (rightfully) flipped out at Damien for once-again throwing Pim under the bus, he realized he had just used his friend’s preferred pronouns towards Damien, who had seemed to had known Pim as Princess Pimberly and referred to her with she/her all his life. In other words: He had accidentally outed Pim in a fit of rage. Alan felt sick to his stomach with guilt, years he's striven to be a supportive and understanding and protective friend to Pim, only to fail at keeping the brave-yet-still vulnerable sea critter’s true identity under wraps from his cold, uncaring family, only to fly off the handle and spill the beans. “Alan?” Damien asked, Alan knew what exact question was coming and dreaded it, shakily replying “Yes?” while sweating bullets, the question-in-question was actually a pleasant surprise. “How come you, Glep and Graham Nelly all better-understood my own little brother better than me and the rest of the household?” Feeling a sense of relief, Alan calmed his nerves with a deep breath or two before giving a proper answer. “Well, throughout the whole time I studied the art of writing symphonies in that palace, I’d figure out right off the bat that something was up with the Royal Family, and amidst all the drama, Pim would try his best to hide from all of it…. I remember when I was having “recess” in the garden when I had noticed a weeping little Pim hiding in the kelp patches. That’s when I scuttled up to him and asked what was wrong…and at the age of four, Pim was already blaming himself for his family’s discord.” Alan’s voice cracking from trying not to choke up, “I knew it wasn’t plausible, so I did my best to remind Pim that he was worthy of being loved.” Damien’s heart broke into two upon catching wind of Pim blaming himself for all the family’s troubles at such a young age, especially considering he was old enough to pin-point where it all went wrong. “None of it was Pim’s fault, really, our family always had trouble, but it took a turn for the worse after we lost our Grandfather….it was his 102nd birthday, and it was also Pim’s second birthday where he learning how to swim and talk…Grandfather loved exploring the surface since he was young and he passed that love down to Graham and Pim…one day something terrible happened…Graham, that fool, showed up with one of those thingamabobs from the surface and it malfunctioned…but it was just an accident and he didn’t mean any harm!” Alan connected the dots, not too surprised yet could only imagine how much pain and guilt the lovable goober felt upon changing his family’s lives forever. Desperate to change the subject before he was tempted to spill more of his guts, Damien proposed they’d find Pim and tell him the good news.

~

After Pim had finally shown his batch of doodles to everyone in the palace, all of which where comics of Chef Spitz and a familiar-looking lobster boxing each other, Queen Beatrice and Mr. Boss on a romantic gondola ride (he assumed they where a couple and yes, you could say it was ship art), an exaggerated caricature of Duke Eustace with a grim scowl on his face and lastly, a portrait of Pim displaying his name with a note indicating he went by all pronouns as a personal stepping-stone. Pim's artwork overall became a hit amongst the residents of the palace (Eustace assumed that last one was a non-ironic portrait and was flattered), especially Charlie. “Pim, ey? I like that name, it’s pretty cute.” Pim bashfully smiled while gesturing a “heart” with his two stubby hands as a way of saying “Thank you”. Pim was especially relieved with how so far, nobody openly opposed to him kind-of coming out. He felt liberated how the Queen, Dj Spitz, Smormu and Charlie shown their support of him being authentic to himself by referring to him as a mix of she/her, they/them and especially he/him pronouns when talking about him.

…

While Pim was thinking of what else to draw, he blissfully waltzed around the palace halls for inspiration until he came across Mipnessa trying on an unfinished prototype of her wedding dress that Smormu was working on with the needle-and-thread in hand; While sewing silk flowers into the first layer of the skirt and simultaneously chit-cahhtering, Smormu accidentally poked Mipnessa’s leg with the sharp pinprick. “Ow!” Mipnessa cried, snapping: “Watch it with that damn needle, you lowly klutz!” “I’m so sorry, your majesty!” Smormu responded in panic, Mipnessa responded while regaining her composure: “No matter, you may resume your tailoring, dear servant girl.” Pim shook his head in disgust, getting sick and tired of her passive-aggressive attitude…and that’s when the candlewick in Pim’s head was lit! Later that afternoon when Queen Beatrice, Mipnessa, Eustace where conversing about kingdom affairs, they came across Pim and Charlie snickering at that silly little sketchbook again. Eustace demanded to know what was so darn funny and not without some hesitation, Pim shown Eustace and Mipnessa his latest masterpiece: a topical satire of Mipnessa with a large mouth with a speech-bubble censored with wingdings and a tiny Smormu apologizing for poking her leg with the needle. The Queen couldn’t help but giggle a little until Mipnessa put on the crocodile tears, blubbering: “How could you show my future husband a drawing of me in such an unflattering light!” as she clutched to Charlie, who froze in an embarrassed state. Eustace glared at Pim and scolded: “Now look what you’ve done, foolish girl, you made Mipnessa upset. I ought to have the Queen banish you back to the shipwreck you spawned from.” Pim stood there with his face beat red, bowing his head in shame…to everyone’s surprise, Queen Beatrice spoke up: “Now Son, if there’s anyone to be cross with, it’s yours truly for suggesting the prompt to begin with.”, clearly covering for Pim. Eustace and Mipnessa where absolutely floored by the statement, and a few seconds after, the former bowed to Pim like a gentleman in an apologetic gesture before as Mipnessa muttered some vague insult only Pim caught, something among the lines of “That grey swollen cow and her mixed-up, muddled she/it.” That insult backfired as Pim actually took a liking to being referred to as “it”, even figuring he could go by just “he/they/it” with the partial intention being just to spite her.

…

While sitting on a rock by the sea, Pim worked on one last drawing for the day: a portrait of Charlie. Emerging from the waves to his surprise and delight was his two old pals, Alan and Glep! And much to his dismay, Damien, whom he scowled at while folding his arms. “D-don’t look at me like that! Do you have any idea what hoops I had to jump through to extend the deal?!” Pim raised in eyebrow, once he allowed Damien to explain further, his jaw dropped at the idea of Damien of all merpeople going out of his way to become a criminal in their own kingdom just to save him from turning into foam upon the sea! “He felt awful about the way he treated you, and he’s all-for you and Charlie getting together.” Glep nodded in agreement. Damien hugged Pim one more time before swimming away, signing off with a bittersweet: “Good luck with your happy ending, Pim.” As Damien swam away to face his consequences, Alan and Glep stayed behind with the intent on supporting their friend however they could. Charlie cried out from far-away: “Hey Pim! The boys came over, y’wanna hang out with us?” Pim gave Alan and Glep each a “see you later” in the form of a kiss and ran to the dock where Charlie and the sailors could be seen casually chattering away. Alan cried: “Wait! Lemme just- hold on! Dammit.” Glep patted Alan on the back, gesturing him Pim was gonna be just fine.

~

Grim gleefully cackled as he held the (fake) triton in his hand, declaring he was already eager to take over Meeplantica now that the old sea King was frozen in a block of ice, but first he wanted to test it out like a misbehaved child who got their hands on their noble parents’ armory cabinet. “Gnarly, check this bad boy out!” “Keep it down, I’m trying to watch my stories.” responded a distracted Gnarly, who was avidly-watching the crystal ball, way more amused with watching the kingdom’s reaction to the fallout of Damien’s “betrayal” unfold. “Hey Gnarly, how about you place a coconut on your head while I aim for it?” jested Grim; Gnarly rolled his eyes while cracking wise: “While I’m at it, I might as well paint a big ol’ bullseye on my ass!” Grim took some old rusty scrap metal and aimed with the trident, manifesting the idea of transforming it into gold, only for the scrap-of-scrap to turn into a pile of sand. Grim sheepishly stood there wondering if the trident was too powerful for him to master yet, as Gnarly took an obvious swipe at his boss: “Well, whaddya know: you’re the All-Mighty Sand Witch of the Abyss!” Grim responded to his henchman cutting up at his own low-hanging fruit by aiming the trident at him, laying down the law, menacingly singing: “Oooh there once was a sandmaaaan~” Gnarly cowed, vowing not to vex him with more bad puns at his expense. “Perhaps one of my spell books could give me some pointers on how to use this thing…”

~

In a scenario one would deem as some twisted karmic irony, Damien hid himself away in a deep cavern far away from Meeplantica so nobody could ever find him. The ex-Prince hastily hid the trident under a bed of moss he himself laid upon to rest while using his cloak as a blanket. Never before had Damien felt so alone, he knew deep-down in his wounded heart that the universe was ultimately going to catch up on him for his poor choices for a long time now, going all the way back when he was just a little boy and how he felt his piano solo he performed for his grandfather felt like an inadequate bore compared to that bizarre-yet-badass-looking gadget from the surface of which Graham Nelly discovered and brought as a gift. When the previous King and his grandnephew where still trying to figure out how it worked, that was when Damien decided to prove his worth as a grandson in his own eyes by figuring it out for them! Alas, the gizmo in-question was what land-creatures called a harpoon gun, and contrary to the innocent merfolk’s belief: it certainly wasn’t used for combat like they theorized, it was for hunting whales…. and poor, naive, clumsy Damien figured out far-too-late how his plan gone horribly right when he accidentally slain the old Sea King while testing the gadget. The empathetic Graham certainly took one for the team that day when he whole-heartedly took the blame for it at the cost of being disowned by the Royal Family to the point of persona-non-grata. However, since Pim was spared from witnessing the gruesome tragedy, this extreme exile did not stop him from fondly remembering Graham Nelly and because of his family’s weak communication skills, the little mercritter could never figure out why everyone else pretended that his cousin didn’t exist since nobody wanted to bring the tragedy up. The more his mind expounded upon the unpleasant memories, Damien further reflected on how his immature jealousy amplified the already-festering problems within the Royal Family, hammering it home just how so much heartache and drama would have been prevented had he just not tried to show off. Finally accepting the path paved with his actions, Damien finally let all that repressed guilt out as his broken sobs echoed throughout the cavern like some sort of sick mockery of his downfall, ultimately resulting in an hours-long affair consisting of the disgraced Prince crying himself to sleep.

Chapter 13 will be coming later this April, in the meantime, I’ll be taking a small hiatus because of some stuff IRL I gotta work out on, I will squeeze in a sneak preview of the next chapter (which will have a musical number this time) later this week! Thank you for your support as always!✨

[normalbrothers]

not like this is something you immediately talk about in a friend group, or with a new friend or whatever, but when the topic of sex and your first time comes up there's always this awkward moment of thinking. well i can't ruin the mood, and i don't want to accidentally trigger someone else and 'time and place', so you ponder this for 1 second and then go 'ha ha. at a normal age'. and it shouldn't be a big deal and you are nearly past the expiration date where being childhood traumatized is still cute, so why not move on with the conversation, because it's a fun evening and you shouldn't be such a killjoy and it's not like you are truly upset right now, right. but it stays in the back of your mind, more like a mute alarm where the red light obnoxiously flares up at intervals. truly it matters so little, but you are once more reminded that you were, what, six? when you had sex the first time, and you are always going to be someone who had sex the first time when they were six, but it's a bummer to say it out loud, usually. one of the little things that makes you feel estranged from the rest of the world, even though, statistically, you know you are by far not the only one. it's even very likely that the person next to you has experienced the same

[seenoversundown]

For Cryin' Out Loud

a request! Thank you to the lovely anon who submitted it! I do fear I strayed from the plot a little bit but it came out so good, I hope it works for everyone. 🥹🤭🖤

Jake Kiszka x Fem Reader

Warnings: (18+ Smut) Fluff, Angst, Uncomfortable Tension, yearning, pining, drinking, smoking — as for smut warnings, they include hand stuff, penetrative sex (for the love of god, wrap it up folks) pet names, a bit of sexual language.

For Cryin Out Loud - FINNEAS 

Her POV

There wasn’t a day that passed that I didn’t think about him. And I know that sounds crazy, but considering the history that we had, it was hard not to let him cross my mind. Even if, oftentimes, it was resentment that flooded my body. But the second he walked into view at this bar, it was like every moment played in my mind. 

We were inseparable as kids, and living down the street from each other made it even easier. Spending every summer together, rain or shine. We were just happy to laugh and play together. When we’d go back to school, we’d always hope we were in the same classes together, and if not, finding each other during recess or lunch. He was my best friend. 

When high school hit, we stayed close, but something changed. Suddenly, the way he looked at me would make my heart race, or when we hugged, it felt like we were both waiting for something. We no longer played outside, but we would lie on the floor of his bedroom for hours just watching stupid videos and laughing. Our friendship had never faltered, despite the lingering glances or awkward ‘goodbyes.’ 

Well, that was until I walked down the hall of our high school, going to find him as I would. Stopping dead in my tracks as I watched him kiss someone. My body warmed as I watched the way he held her and the way he stared at her while she spoke. It should have been me. 

I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized I saw him. He apologized relentlessly for not telling me about her yet and said that he didn’t want to say anything until he was sure it was happening and promised nothing would change between us. But that promise was bleak. 

We slowly drifted apart, with him spending time with his new girlfriend, and I found myself picking up new hobbies to distract from the feelings I never thought I’d admit. After so many years of being around him, I didn’t think I’d have developed a crush on him. I always thought that we would end up like siblings, just too close that those feelings would never come up. Sadly, that wasn't the case for me. 

Eventually, I did start dating and slowly forget about the heartbreak he caused. A few relationships throughout college taught me lessons that I never wanted to learn. But moving back to my hometown after a handful of years away, everything here would remind me of him. 

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Now, as I’m sitting here, creepily watching him walk closer to the bar, I can’t decide if I want him to notice me or completely disregard my presence. 

It was a fleeting thought when his stare met mine. His turn to feel like a deer in headlights. His eyes lit up and it was like we both turned into the child versions of ourselves again. He walks toward me and I feel all the air in my lungs dissipate. 

“Hi,” his voice blessed my ears, as his arms reached toward me for a hug. Who am I to deny him that? 

He pulls me into him, and it feels like nothing has happened between us. I whisper, “Why are you here?” Feeling his chest shake gently against mine as he quietly laughs, I missed that. 

“I have some time off, so I figured I should come visit the parents,” he tells me as he pulls back, pulling out the stool next to me. “Nothing too exciting. Did you move back or are you just visiting?”

I sigh, not fully wanting to admit that I moved back, but telling him, “I did move back.” 

“That’s not a bad thing, y’know?” He says, his voice is so soft. Pausing the conversation to order a drink, he turns back to me, saying, “I miss it all the time.” 

I can’t help but laugh at the thought. With a taunting tone, asking, “You? Jake Kiszka? You miss it here?”

He was always a talented musician, but when he finally started touring and got signed, I figured he would never want to come back here. 

“Of course, I do,” he laughs. His eyes locked on mine when he said, “A lot of good memories here.” 

We spent a while just catching up on the years we lost between us. Learning about how the band really took off and all the places they’ve been. Him asking about college and how my career was going. But we both danced around the elephant in the room, like neither of us wanted to admit what really happened. 

“I missed this,” he says, looking down at his lap for a breath. His hand lands on mine, “I missed you.”

It feels like all the air was sucked out of the room when he says it. The feeling of his thumb rubbing against the back of my hand, my stomach is in knots. And pathetically, I whisper, “Really?” 

“Every day,” he says, and it’s like the world stopped spinning. All I could hear was him, “You were my best friend, and I always hated that we stopped talking.”

All the repressed anger bubbling inside me, trying to gently let it out, but the slight attitude lacing everything I wanted to say, stopping me. 

He takes a sip of his beer, gently setting it back on the bar before asking, “Why did we stop talking?” 

“You were wrapped up in that girl you started dating,” I try to say normally, but I know he could feel the bitterness exuding from me. 

He lets out a breathy laugh, “Wait, really?”

“Yep,” is all I say, popping the ‘P’ to really drive it home. Sipping on my drink as I watch him process the situation. 

“So.. you were jealous?” He asks, a small smirk on his face. 

There were countless times in our years of being friends when I wanted to hit him, but this takes the cake. 

My eyebrows pull together, “No?” I lied. 

“Then why did it make you pull away?” 

I try to not sound like a child, but it’s hard. Telling him, “You didn’t have time for me anymore, so..” 

His smile falters, “I always had time for you.” 

“Clearly not. You never tried to reach out?” 

“Neither did you.” 

The anger swirled inside my body, not because he was doing anything wrong, but because he was right. I never attempted to rekindle anything with him and I don’t know if I was afraid of what would happen or if he would decline my calls. 

“I couldn’t,” I admit. My eyes darted away from him, knowing it’s going to have to come out at some point. 

He asks, “Why not?” 

Nothing in this world could have stopped the way my words came out, and I knew it would only cause more questions that I’d have to reluctantly answer. 

“I had to get over you, and I couldn’t do that if we still spoke,” I admit. 

He about choked on his beer, staring at me for a minute in silence. Finally mumbling, “Get over me?” 

I nod, sitting in the discomfort of him finally knowing. It’s been years but it feels like I’m my sixteen year old self again. 

“That means.. you had actual feelings for me..?” He questioned, almost like he was in disbelief. 

I hum back, “Mhm.” 

It almost feels like I’m watching him go through all the stages of grief in a matter of seconds. The look on his face and the way I could feel his mood shift. Even after years of not being around each other, I can still read him like a book. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, almost sounding hurt. 

Tilting my head as I looked at him, “So you could reject me and make the friendship weird? There was no way I could tell you.” 

His eyebrows raised slightly, but the pain was all over his face. Quietly following up with, “How long—how long did you feel like that?”

“Like two years?” I admit— not having much to lose now. It’s been so long since everything happened, and having alcohol in my system is making this whole conversation happen a lot easier. 

The grimace on his face was telling. I gave him a moment to sit with the feeling, as much as I wanted to tell him it didn’t matter, I knew he needed to process it. 

My hand rests on his leg, and when I finally ask, “What are you thinking about?”

He shakes his head a few times before looking back over at me. Something about the twisted expression on his face makes me nervous. Muttering, “I can’t believe I was so blind.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He breathes in deep, it’s as if I can see his brain working as we sit here. Unprepared for the next thing to come out of him. 

“How didn’t I fucking see that?” He says, his voice thick with anger. “We were together constantly. I feel so dumb.” 

Taken aback by the tone, I practically whisper, “I tried to hide it. I didn’t want you to feel bad..” 

“Feel bad?” He laughs, but in the scoffing kind of way that people do. “I wanted you more than anything.” 

My jaw actually dropped. He wanted.. me? 

“Excuse me?” I ask, unable to believe that he was being honest. 

His hand rubs down his face, taking a minute before telling me, “You meant everything to me.”

My heart pounds at his words. It feels like we’ve both gone back in time and were just the timid sixteen-year-olds again. The only thing that comes out of me is, “Oh.” 

“God,” he mutters, taking the last sip of his beer. “I think I need to step outside.. come with me?”

“Sure.” 

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Finding ourselves just around the corner from the door to the bar, out of the way. I’m not typically a smoker, but at the moment, it felt necessary. 

We stood there in a comfortable quiet. I think both of us were just trying to figure out where to go from here. 

“So, how long are you home?” I ask, trying to break the tension a little. 

He shrugs, “I have no plan really. We just got off tour, so I have time.” 

My stomach flips as the thought of him being around more but my brain stops me from being too excited when I ask, “No lady to get home to?” 

He shakes his head, laughing when he says, “Nope.” 

My eyes look up to meet him after he says it. 

He asks, “You?” 

“I don’t have a lady either,” I smirk, watching his eyes light up at the joke. His laugh graced my ears, and I’ve never been happier to hear it than after the last hour of my life. 

“You know what I meant, you shit,” he says in between giggles. 

My heart swells at the sound, and I finally answer him, “No, no boyfriend either.” 

He stares at the ground when he asks, “Do you have any plans tonight?” 

“Jake,” I laugh out. “I was at the bar alone. Do the math.” 

His smile still made me weak, and he mumbled, “Can I ask you something?” 

Time felt like it came to a halt. I looked at him, and all I saw was the boy that I loved so long ago. No matter how much I cried over him and wished that he would have chosen me, I can’t seem to hold it against him. 

I nod slowly, unsure where this is going. He steps toward me, closing the gap between us. His raspy voice was so sweet when he asked, “How do you feel about me now?”

Tilting my head back slightly to look at him, even after years of avoiding looking him up, trying to forget everything, hoping that I’d finally move on, he’s still perfect. 

His brown eyes are so soft as they look back at me. The way his lips were perfectly shaped, his Cupid’s bow just begging to be kissed. I wanted nothing more in this moment than to just pepper his face with little pecks. My heart rattled in my chest as we stood way too close to each other. 

Shocking myself when I tell him, “I feel like you should kiss me right about now, Kiszka.” 

His hand holds the back of my neck as he pulls me in, pressing his lips against mine. Everything I had imagined about finally getting to kiss him was coming true. Years of pent-up emotion in this, my cigarette hitting the ground next to me as I wrap my arms around his neck. Smiling into him, I can’t stop the giggle that escapes me. 

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” he whispers against me. 

The nerves in my body finally disappeared. Kissing him one more time before I asked, “Come home with me?” 

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My hand in his, I pull him through the threshold of my house. He pushes the door shut with his foot behind him, pulling me back to him. Kissing me over and over, like we were making up for lost time. 

Leading him straight to my bedroom, I start undoing the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He lets it slide off, hitting the floor as he’s grabbing the hem of mine and lifting it over my head. 

He closes in on me, and I pull myself back onto the bed, and he’s crawling over me. I had seen him shirtless countless times growing up, but having him hovering over me like this, feels like a dream. 

“I never thought we’d do this,” he mumbles. 

My hands nervously touched his chest, and looking at him, I whispered back, “It’s long overdue.” 

He smiles, moving so he is just above my lips, he says, “I’ll do anything for you, beautiful.” 

My hands run down until I hit the waistband of his jeans, fiddling with the button as he’s gently biting my bottom lip. He lowers himself so his hips are pressed into me. My legs on either side of him, and any movement his body makes gives me a drop of relief. 

“Mmm,” I moan quietly, as he shifts slightly. Something about it being him makes me less embarrassed about it. Pressing a kiss against my cheek before he sits up, sliding his jeans down his legs quickly before pulling my leggings off and tossing them into the pile we’ve started. 

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen this much of him, and it’s suddenly feeling very real. He leans down, his lips pressing kisses into my stomach and dragging them up as he leaves little wet marks in between my breasts. When he finally makes it to my throat, he lowers himself back down and I can feel how hard his cock is against me. 

My hips shift against him as he kisses underneath my ear gently. He mumbles, “Do you want me to..” 

“Please— touch me,” I whine. 

His hand slipped down and underneath the lace covering me, and I gasped at the feeling. I can feel his smile on the side of my neck as I let myself enjoy the feeling. He carefully circles my clit, and I can tell he’s having fun teasing me. 

My hand slides down his chest until I feel the little trail of hair. My palm flat against his stomach creeping towards his cock, running down the length of it. His breath hitches when I do. Slipping my hand into his boxers, gently stroking him, as he whimpers against my throat. Both of us are falling apart at the smallest of touches. 

“Jake,” I whisper. “I need you.”

Without hesitation, he pulls my panties down my legs, tossing them out of the way. Following suit with his boxers, and then kneeling between my legs. We both take a second, just staring at each other. 

I always thought he was attractive; it was hard to deny. He was just a handsome guy, but getting to see him like this, he was perfect. 

He smiles as he looks down at me, and then tells me, “I don’t think I’ve told you enough how beautiful you really are.” 

I can feel my face warm at his compliment, giggling when I tell him, “You’re not too bad yourself.” 

Watching him as he moves closer, dragging the tip down, until he’s lined up. Leaning forward and pushing himself in, letting out a groan as he does. 

“Oh my god,” slips out of me. He leans down over me, letting his hips slowly meet mine. My heart pounds as he lingers there for a second. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly. 

Grabbing either side of his face and pulling him in, my lips land on his gently, holding the kiss for a moment before I pull back. Staring in his eyes as we lay in the most vulnerable position possible, I told him, “I’ve never been better, actually.” 

He leans back in to kiss me, and his hips start to slowly rock into me. My hands tangled in his hair as we breathlessly pressed kisses into each other. Moaning into his mouth as his hips pick up pace. 

“Yes, baby,” he moans. “Tell me how good it feels.” 

He sits back up on his knees, pulling my hips closer to him as he thrusts into me a bit harder. His hands wrapped around my waist and held me up slightly— our moans filled the room.

My hand sliding down, and letting out a loud moan as I start to rub small little circles on my clit. Staring at this man whom I’ve pined over for years, finally getting the chance to have him to myself, and every second feels like bliss. 

The feeling of my orgasm nearing, my body warming, and the visual of his necklace bouncing off his chest, making it harder to hold it in. 

“Jake,” I let out, louder than before.

His smirk is instant, and his voice has a sultry tone when he tells me, “Come for me, baby.” 

My mouth opens slightly as the feeling starts to overwhelm me, succumbing to it. 

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles, and I can feel his stare as I go through it. 

He leans down and lets his lips rest against my forehead, kissing it a few times before hovering above me. 

I quietly ask, “Are you close?” 

He nods a few times, giggling as he says, “I’ve been struggling to hold it together, baby.” 

Tapping his hips a few times, he pulls out slowly. Wrapping my hand around it, I start stroking him quickly. His mouth fell open as I did. Watching him try to keep his eyes open, but he can’t help it. 

I whisper, “Come, babe. You know you want to.”

He whimpers quietly, and I can feel him inching closer. 

“Give it to me,” I mumble. 

His hips jerk forward, and the moan that falls out of him is delicious. I just watch his face as he works through his orgasm. 

We lay there in comfortable silence— the only sound is our breathing. The moment feels surreal. 

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He graciously cleaned up the mess we made and then crawled back into bed with me. He pulls me closer, my head landing on his shoulder. Tracing the little freckles on his stomach as we lay there. 

“Uhh,” I let out. “Did you happen to pay for your beer?” 

His eyes go wide, he mutters, “Shit.” 

“Neither did I,” I told him. Both of us fall into a fit of laughter, and everything just feels right. 

“So,” I start. Nervous to ask, but knowing I’ll regret it if I don’t. “..what are we doing?” 

He tilts my chin up to look at him, and quietly says, “Whatever you want.” 

My heart thuds as I stare at him. I hesitate when I start to say, “Only if you’re sure. I don’t—“ 

He cuts me off with a kiss, pulling back, he whispers, “I’ve waited years for you— I’m sure.” 

“Then I’m all yours, babe,” I giggle out. 

We both lay there in a dreamy state, just enjoying each other's presence. Fully in disbelief that the boy I once longed for is finally mine. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Taglist: (reply or dm to be added | sorry I'm just using the most recent version of the taglist, I figured you would all enjoy)

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @imleavingyoufornewyork @dont-go-home-without-me

@literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr

@edgingthedarkness @writingcold @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf

@earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf @gretavanfan @musicspeaks

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @demonrat444 @hollyco

@josh-iamyour-mama @wrldabomination @broken0mens @whereiskeara

@gvf-luna @lilbitx @gvfstuddedmajesty @katuschka @chloeshell1219

@becinabubblegvf @scoreofinfantryvines @ourlovesdesires

@sanguinebats @nicoleghost18 @lightmy-love

@monkeylaura627 @myownparadise96 @cheersdannyx2 @dyslexicchild13

@lallisonl @mohollandtx @fleetingjake @allof--mylove

@anythingforjtk @musicislove3389

@i-choose-the-road @demolitiondanchipsversion @godly-sinsx

@joshylanefleet @alantern-inthenight

@justwantjosh

[toasttt11]

training camp

September 21, 2023

Ophelia fiddled with her bee ring as Quinn drove them to the rink. Today was the first day of training camp and they were meeting early in the morning at Rogers Arena before flying to Victoria for the next few days.

Quinn parked the car and glanced over at her nicky her fiddling with her ring, “Nervous?” Quinn spoke softer having noticed its soothes her.

“Weren’t you?” Ophelia said back making Quinn smile a bit because Ophelia might not have notice but she has a bit more sass after spending a summer with them but mostly because of Jack.

“I definitely was.” Quinn told her honestly making her glance at him with a nervous look, “But it all worked out no matter how nervous i was.”

“I got you Bee i promise.” Quinn softly reassured her squeezed her arm gently and she let out a nervous breath nodding.

Quinn nodded back and they got out of the car together and Quinn handed her suitcase as she slipped her backpack on.

Ophelia followed right on Quinn’s heel as they walked into the rink towards one of the open rooms near the kitchen and saw a lot of the players there, some chatting with others, some sitting alone and some eating.

Ophelia watched as many players immediately to Quinn hugging and talking.

“Ophelia this is Petey, Thatch, Brock and Jt.” Quinn introduced her to the four first.

Elias and Brock shared a look having both heard a surprising amount about her from Quinn.

Demko was immediately giving her a bright and kind smile and he noticed how she was staying glued to Quinn’s side, Quinn got his rookie.

Ophelia smiled softly back as she shook Demko’s hand first.

“Hey kid.” Jt gave her a crooked grin and a fist bump, it is a bit odd she is closer to age to his kids than his age.

“We’ve heard so much about you!” Brock said looked very excited as he softly shook his new teammates hand.

“Quinn hasn’t shut up.” Elias smirked a bit as Quinn fondly rolled his eyes, Elias is not use to Quinn talking a lot about something or someone so he wasn’t letting this go.

“He talks about you too, all of you.” Ophelia spoke softly glancing at all four of them, she has heard the most stories about them and Connor Garland from Quinn.

“Huggy!” Thatch put a hand to his heart with a teasing smile.

Jt started chuckling at her words loving that she just said that. Elias immediately smirked more and Brock gasped reminding her a lot of Jack.

“Bee.” Quinn gave her a playful look as he just rolled his eyes playfully at his friends teasing.

“Sorry.” Ophelia shrugged softly.

“Huggy bear.” Connor cheered as he walked into the room and over to Quinn as Quinn spun around and smiled softly hugging Connor.

“You must be Ophelia!” Connor was smiling widely as he turned to Ophelia and shook her hand excitedly making her laugh softly and give him a smile back.

Ophelia stayed right on Quinn’s side just listening to the conversation not that comfortable yet to speak up.

Ophelia just followed Quinn onto the bus and Quinn smiled gesturing for her to sit down first and he sat down next to her.

Once the bus got to the airport she followed him on to the plane.

Quinn had already talked with Elias if he okay with him sitting with Ophelia and not Elias.

Elias was fine with it as long as he gets to sit across from them and gets his own row, which he is happy to get his own row.

Ophelia blinked in surprised that Quinn sat down next to her but smiled to herself.

Ophelia pulled out her iPad working on editing some photos from the summer during the thirty minute plane ride.

“Ohh that’s a good one.” Quinn said as he looked at her screen seeing a photo of Jack tackling Luke off the boat and Quinn was in the shot laughing at them.

Ophelia smiled shyly at the compliment.

After the flight they headed to the hotel and all checked in, Ophelia got roomed with Quinn and soon they were at the rink about to head on the ice for the first practice.

Ophelia was nodding a long to one of the coaches as she was apart of one of first drills and when it was her turn she just was flying down the ice.

“Holy shit.” Brock whistled as he stood with Elias, Quinn, Connor and Jt watching Ophelia do the drill, she might easily be one of the fastest on the team.

Ophelia kept the team on their toes for the rest of the practice and Quinn looked proud the entire time.

September 22, 2023

Ophelia followed Quinn into the banquet room for a team breakfast and Quinn got pulled into a conversation and Ophelia wanted coffee as she knew there wouldn’t be hot chocolate.

Elias was standing by the coffee pouring a cup and glanced up as Ophelia walked over and he held a cup and she nodded, He poured her a cup of coffee making her mumble out a soft thank you and quick to start drinking the coffee.

Ophelia didn’t realize she ended up following Elias but they both grabbed breakfast and she sat down next to him and they ate in silence.

Quinn walked over a few minutes later and smiled a bit seeing the two just sitting together eating, he knew they would get along well. They are both people who like quiet time so he had a feeling they would enjoy that about each other.

Elias spared her a small glance and his lips quirked up, it’s about time he gets a quieter teammate, he’s looking forward to being teammates with her.

September 23, 2023

Ophelia was standing in between Quinn and Brock as she was on a team with them for the scrimmage. There was only a minute left and they were tied.

Ophelia nodded at Brock as he skated to the center, Quinn leaned over whispering, “We can do our play?”

Ophelia quickly nodded back and skated to her side.

Brock won the face off and passed right to Ophelia, Ophelia brought the puck up and skated behind Brock dropping the puck for him and he took the shot.

Ophelia grabbed the rebound and quickly darted around the other team players and brought the puck right to Quinn setting him up perfectly for a shot and Quinn took the shot getting a goal.

“What a beauty that is SJ!” Brock cheered as he skated over to her hugging her tightly. He gave Ophelia her first team nickname and the one that would stick the most, SJ for St. James.

Jt, Elias and Connor were on the other team and they skated to Ophelia, Quinn and Brock once the scrimmage had finished after Quinn’s goal.

“SJ.” Jt hummed nodding his head, “I like it.”

Connor gave her a pat on the head and Elias gave her an approving nod.

Demko skated over to the group standing on the ice, “That was an incredible shot you had.”

Ophelia perked up at his compliment, a praise on your shot always means more coming from a goalie.

“It was nothing compared to your save.” Ophelia complimented him back making Demko beam at her.

Ophelia was really liking her team so far.

September 24, 2023

Quinn laughed softly as he came out of the shower after their last day of training camp seeing Ophelia sprawled out on her bed looking half asleep and her phone just laying next to her.

Quinn knew she had been face timing with Luke and Jack when he headed to shower and just catching up with them.

Quinn walked over plugging in her phone sitting it on the nightstand, he pulled the blanket up over her shoulder.

Ophelia barely stirred as she was cuddling her penguin and blue bunny stuff animals and sleepily blinked up at Quinn, making her look young.

Quinn sat on the bed next to her gently brushing his hand scored her wet waves, “You liked it?” Quinn asked her now that training camp is officially over.

“I loved it.” Ophelia softly breathed out with a tired but happy smile. It’s been a difficult few days but a good difficult and she felt like she leaned a lot.

“Good.” Quinn smiled softly, “Get some sleep Bee.” Quinn softly pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Night Q.” Ophelia mumbled half asleep as her eyes stayed shut.

“Night.” Quinn kept brushing his hands through her hair until she fell asleep.

[aya-keating]

Get the phone. Check the messages. Put the phone back. 

It felt simple enough, right? Aya and Juno had been working on this since the day they met with Dax. Dax had left all of her questions unanswered and Aya wasn’t the type to just accept things. 

The bass of the music resonated within the confines of the young woman’s body. The quake inside of her was unsettling to her. This isn’t anxiety… it’s the music… it’s a fucking party, she kept reminding herself as she zigzagged through the dancing bodies with Juno leading the way. Her sweaty hand was secured in the hand of her friend. She felt like she was going to vomit, but she would make it through this. The VIP room was in sight now, she could see some of the familiar faces: Milo, Luka, Paolo, Jace, fucking Dax… and Lotus. Her heart dropped when she caught the eye of her friend. She felt like she was betraying Lotus in some way. But this was a hard situation. She pushed that guilt to the pit of her stomach and flashed the group a dazzling smile. 

The banter, the laughter, the moving bodies as they shuffled onto the dance floor. She gave Milo a congratulatory hug; it was a little tight, but Milo wouldn’t notice, and she needed some of his calm for this next step. She made sure all of the girls left. Juno had a job to do…and so did she. Aya smiled at one of Dax’s guys who gripped her arm, trying to lead her to the dance floor with him. “Later,” she lied, motioning to Milo. “I promised him a dance first.”  He bobbed his head as he danced towards the first girl he could grab. He was disgusting, too. 

Aya slipped behind the curtain, her stomach knotting. She hated letting Juno be alone with the creep. Get the phone. Check the messages. Put the phone back. She reminded herself. The curtain began to sway and soon Juno’s hand revealed itself with the phone in her grasp. Aya quickly grabbed it, holding it to her chest as she fled the VIP area, trying to conceal the phone from sight. Be cool, don’t look paranoid, she thought to herself as she swayed in between the dancing people, trying to keep from knocking into someone. 

“Aya! Aya! Over here!” someone yelled towards her, but she kept going. Down the hall, through the door, into the girl’s bathroom, into the big stall. She locked the door, her heart hammering wildly against her chest. She felt like she was going to throw up any moment now. 

With sweaty hands, she tapped the screen to reveal the lockscreen. FACE ID attempted to connect. Fuck, fuck, fuck!! “No, no, no,” she sobbed, trying to keep it together. How long did she have? A minute? Two minutes? Five tops? “Breathe, Aya,” she whispered to herself, requesting to use the passcode with a trembling finger. The keypad spread across the screen. She thought long and hard for a moment. She didn’t want to lock herself out of the phone before she even got in it. 

“Don't overthink it,” she thought, closing her eyes for a minute to try and silence the chaos in her head. “Don’t overthink it.” 

Her thumb slid across the keypad typing in the following: 010902. So the scum had a heart. His daughter’s birthday. The guilt of excluding Lotus with this devious plan tried to attack her thoughts, but she pushed them away. She didn’t have the time to have a guilty conscience right now. She went straight to messages and typed in Claire’s name to retrieve the thread. No contacts with the name populated. But messages began flooding the screen of conversations about her sister. She wanted to read every fucking lie, but again, no time. Now, Aya typed in her sister’s number to see if it would pull up the thread. Again, nothing. Did he erase all contact with her? Aya’s heart began racing, panic was setting in. Was this all for nothing? Had Juno put herself in the lion’s den for no fucking reason? 

A sob escaped Aya’s mouth and her breath was labored. The door to the bathroom opened and laughter was heard on the other side of the stall. Aya froze in silence until the girls abandoned the room. Aya was about to give up but something told her to check the voicemails. There was a list of recordings. She bypassed the ones with names and looked at the numbers. She found one from a number ending in 4875—the same as Claire’s number and the timestamp was March 7th, the day before the story hit the media about Dax. 

Aya pressed play and pulled the phone to her ear. The slurred voice of her sister flooded the speaker and Aya had to clasp her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t sob. She needed to hear every word her sister had to say: 

It’s me, Dax. Claire. I know what you did. I saw you. I saw you with her. You hurt her. You took advantage of her. Forced yourself on her. You asshole. I thought I was special? You said I was…you said that’s why you had to have me…because you couldn’t wait… you needed to feel me… you liar! I’m nothing to you… I’m nothing… just another body. Another trophy of yours. How many of us are there? I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. I’m going to tell. I’m going to tell everyone what you did, what you are! You won’t get away with this. Do you hear me? I’m going to destroy you, Dax Holloway. 

Claire’s voice faded and sobs could be heard on the other end of the speaker before the call ended. Her sister was crying and this made Aya cry too. Dax had assaulted her sister. Where the hell was Claire at? Did she leak the story about Dax?  Aya’s heart was hammering so loudly now. She didn’t even realize she was crying as she walked out of the bathroom, the phone openly in her hand now. It felt like she was in a fog. Her sister’s voice echoed in her head. “I’m going to tell—I thought I was special—Another body… a trophy.” 

“Are you okay?” someone asked, it was girl, maybe. Aya moved back to the VIP area. She walked up to the couch where Juno and Dax were joined at the mouth. She laid his phone down, trying her damned hardest to stay composed, even though her makeup was smeared across her face. “Juno,” she said sternly. Dax didn’t react, he kept groping her friend, thrusting his tongue down her throat. “Get the fuck off her!” Aya screamed, her heart racing, she felt like she would throw the organ up. 

The music went silent in the club, the lights turned on, cops descended upon the area, a detective holding a warrant. Juno jumped off the couch and ran to Aya, holding onto her friend as the officers came into the VIP room, talking to Dax… he was being read his Miranda rights. Aya walked away from the scene, her head still in a haze. Juno was right behind her, grabbing her hand to turn her around. 

“What did you find out?” 

Aya shook her head sadly. “He raped her,” she sobbed, her hand on her stomach. “I think he fucking raped my sister… I don’t know where she is. But she threatened him. She said she was going to tell… Oh, God, Juno… what if he hurt her?” Juno’s arms were tightly around Aya’s trembling body; Aya hugged her, realizing Juno was trembling too. Aya couldn’t imagine how hard her exchange with Dax had just been on her. Aya held her friend tightly, trying to heal her. Her own fears could wait until later. Suddenly, Aya caught the eye of Lotus, staring at the scene behind them. Her heart ached for Lotus, too.