#Jensen x reader pairing

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Two Heroes, No Capes

Summary: Y/N is in trouble, and she knows just who to call for help.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: TW descriptions of a physical assault, mugging, violence implied, injuries, fear and shock, some discussion regarding sexual assault (no sexual assault takes place, or is described, but I want to be extra careful of people's triggers.)

Pairings: No romantic pairing. Jensen Ackles x teen!reader, Jared Padalecki x teen!reader

Word Count: 1,686

A/N: I got a request from the dear @kayyay1219 :

Ok so I’ve been in a J2xteen!reader phases for a while and I can’t help but want another one. So, I was thinking that the reader was out in the city by herself and she gets assaulted by a group of guys and she calls Jared and Jensen for help. So they come to her rescue and they see how bad her injuries are and they take her home and help her clean up.

So, this was what I came up with. I'm so sorry this took SO long to get to you hon! I hope you think it was worth the wait. ❤️

A/N 2: As always, this story is about a Jensen and Jared from a different part of the multiverse and doesn't reflect anything to do with their real life. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

The beautiful dividers below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

The fear was still pumping in her veins, the relentless throb making the newly formed bruises hurt a little more. Y/N raised her hand, and brushed her fingertips across the gash above her eyebrow. When she pulled her hand away and saw the blood dripping from her fingers, her panic increased.

A rational, calming voice floated into her wildly careening mind, speaking softly, deep and soothing.

It's okay, princess, head wounds bleed a lot, it's probably not as bad as it seems. 

She nodded absently to the voice and tried to take an inventory of what was hurting. Her head was pounding, a result of being punched in the face twice, no doubt, but she’d also smacked the back of it on the concrete when they'd pushed her backwards.

Probably a concussion, the voice told her. 

Her ankle was badly sprained, she knew, from when she'd tried to sprint away from them and lost her footing in one of the cracks criss-crossing the alley. Her body felt like one big bruise from where their fists had pummeled her as she struggled against them. She’d struggled, but they won - holding her down and taking her purse, her jewelry, and her new, expensive leather jacket. She breathed deeply and then grimaced in pain; she also thought she might have a broken rib.

Okay, princess, the voice said quietly, reassuringly, time to call for help.

Suddenly it was obvious to Y/N that the calm, caring voice in her head belonged to Jensen. Of course. She'd call the boys. One of them would likely be free to come help her. 

She dialed Jensen's number, glad the thieves hadn't taken her phone from her jeans pocket. It was a shitty old thing, they probably hadn't thought it was worth the bother. 

It rang twice before he picked up. 

"Hey, darlin'. Need a ride into work? I know night shoots suck." He asked, a smile in his voice. 

"No…don’t need a ride." Her voice was a croak, as tears and fear clogged it. Jensen heard immediately.

"Baby? What's wrong?"

"I need…I had…something happened. These guys, they jumped me…I didn’t notice them. I need someone to…I need help."

She heard Jensen's voice move away from the phone slightly as he called out.

"Jared! It's Y/N, she's hurt, come on!"

He spoke into the receiver again. "Hey, baby, everything's okay now." She actually smiled slightly; his voice was exactly as it had sounded in her head 

"Just tell us where you are, and we'll be there right away."

“I’m in the…the alley beside my building.” She looked down at herself and the dirt and blood that stained the white tank top and jeans she wore. “I’m bleeding, and they…they wrecked my shirt, they tore it.”

Jensen’s voice became softer. “It’s okay, Y/N, we're in the car now. We’re less than 5 minutes away. Jared’s calling the police; do you need an ambulance?”

Y/N shook her head before realizing that Jensen couldn’t hear her head shake. “No.” She said.

Her teeth began to chatter and her whole body began to vibrate as shock took over. “I don’t want…don’t wanna go to the hospital. I’m…I just want to go home. I can’t…I don’t think I can walk on my own, my ankle is…and my head’s…I’m kinda dizzy.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t try to move on your own. We’re so close now.” As he said it, Y/N could hear the screech of tires a block away as Jensen’s pickup truck squealed around the corner of her street and headed towards her block. 

She heard doors open and slam shut, and seconds later, Jensen and Jared loomed large, solid and reassuring at the entrance to the alleyway, silhouetted against the streetlights behind them. She sighed first, and then started crying.

They were here; she was safe.

They ran towards where she sat in the middle of the alley, skidding to a stop beside her and crouching down. The light in the alley was terrible, but Jensen did a quick sweep with his hands to see if anything seemed broken, while Jared held her gently, allowing her tears to seep into his t-shirt.

Seemingly reassured that there were no broken bones, Jensen scooped her up and carried her to her apartment. When they finally had her settled on her couch, with the lights shining bright overhead, she watched the fury bloom on their faces as they got their first good look at her injuries. 

“Who did this to you?” Jared asked as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his.

Jensen answered, his voice chillingly cold.. “Dead men. Dead men did this.” 

Jared shook his head. “Jensen.” He said warningly. “That’s not helping.”

Jensen’s jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he took a deep breath. “You’re right. Killing them can wait.” 

He walked away and returned a half minute later with a first aid kit and a cold cloth. He ran the cloth incredibly gently across her forehead and cheeks, and the coolness felt wonderful against her throbbing skin. They both spoke softly and reassuringly, and Y/N just let their words flow into her, and calm her racing heart and shaking limbs.

As the boys took turns using the first aid kit to tend to the cuts and bruises across her face, Jared seemed like he was working up to saying something. Finally he looked at Jensen and shook his head. In their usual silent communication, Jared seemed to be passing the conversation to Jensen. Y/N was curious what they were trying to say, so she finally just grabbed Jared’s hand where he was cleaning the particularly deep gash above her eyebrow.

“What is it?” She asked, worried her injuries were more dangerous than she’d thought. Maybe she should go to the hospital.

Jensen answered; he was on his knees in front of where she sat on the couch, but he still had to duck his head a bit, to be able to look her in the eye as he spoke.

“Baby, you said…earlier…” 

He took a breath, and tried again. “Sweetheart, you know nothing you say will change how much we love you, and we’ll…we’ll do whatever you need us to do.”

Y/N nodded; she did know that. From the moment she’d shown up on the set of Supernatural, the boys had taken her underwing like protective fathers, and even welcomed her into their homes happily, treating her as simply another member of their busy, beautiful families. They were the protectors and champions she’d always wanted, but had never been lucky enough to have. She trusted them and their love for her completely.

“So…” Jensen continued. “You said that, when I was talking to you before, you said that there was a group of people. They were guys?”

Y/N nodded.

“And you said…” Jensen gritted his teeth again harshly. “You said that they’d…ruined your shirt…tore it? Baby.” He pulled her shirt together where it was torn at the neck. “Baby, did they…hurt you?” At first Y/N was confused. Of course they hurt her, she was bruised and bleeding. But then she heard the way he put emphasis on the word “hurt”, and realized what kind of hurt he meant. 

She turned red, and shook her head quickly, looking at her lap and ignoring the way her skull ached. “No. I mean…no, they didn’t…didn’t hurt anything that won’t heal. They tore my shirt when they were grabbing and ripping at my necklace.”

Her eyes went wide and then filled with tears as she turned to Jared. “The necklace you got me for Christmas. They took it.”

“Oh, darlin’, don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.” Jared said as he pulled her head gently against his shoulder. 

Just then a knock came to the door. For the next half hour Jared and Jensen sat beside her as she gave a tearful accounting of the whole incident to the police officers who crowded into her small living room. They acted like twin pillars of strength, helping her through, and lending her their bravery when she needed it. 

Finally, the police left, advising that she go to the hospital because of her head injuries. The boys agreed and then, when she said again that she really didn’t want to go, they insisted.

Finally she caved, and within the hour she was admitted for observation at St. Francis Memorial. The boys stayed with her all night. Y/N dozed from time to time, but the nurses came in regularly to wake her up and ask her simple questions like where she was born or how to spell her name, just to make sure her concussion wasn’t getting worse. 

Whenever Y/N was awake, the boys would regale her with stories from when they were kids, stories from set, stories about their own kids. She had to keep telling them not to make her laugh so much - she had bruised ribs. 

When the morning came, and the doctors were satisfied with her test results and with the results of the CT Scan they’d done the night before, she was discharged and the boys took her home. By the time she got there, she was exhausted beyond belief. So, they simply tucked her up in her bed, and then pulled up chairs to sit beside her.

“You guys don’t have to stay.” She said with a deep yawn. “You must be exhausted too.”

They both raised their feet onto the bed beside her and leaned back in the chairs. “Yeah,” Jensen answered, “but we’re good here.”

Y/N considered arguing against their overprotectiveness, but admitted to herself that she needed it right now. So, she simply smiled at them, and snuggled deeper into her soft pillows and cozy blanket.

“Love you guys.” She said sleepily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it kiddo.” They said together. 

Love it when they talk at the same time, she thought to herself with a smile as she drifted off to a peaceful sleep, knowing she was completely safe, with her heroes so nearby.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

[lacydollette]

ROUGH SEX WITH YOUR CO-STAR ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: actor!jensen x actress!reader

warnings: jensen ackles x fem!reader, actor!jensen, actress!reader, age gap, 18+, mdni, dom!jensen, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), forced blow job, hair pulling, choking, p in v (unprotected), praise kink, jensen being freaky asf, wc: 3.8k

The sound of laughter and music filled the bar as you and cast of The Boys gathered around the table, enjoying a rare evening off after a whirlwind of interviews, conventions, and press events promoting the new season. You sat near the edge of the group, a glass of wine in your hand as you watched the scene unfold. You’d been on the road with them for two weeks now, traveling from state to state to promote the show, and despite the exhausting schedule, nights like this made it all worth it.

Especially with your costar Jensen sitting just across the table, his smile lighting up the room, making everyone around him feel at ease. And despite your usual calm aura, he could tell you were taking it all in, probably still adjusting to the chaotic rhythm of show business.

You had joined the cast as the newest love interest for Soldier Boy, Jensen's character, and while you’d been nervous about working with such an established actor— he quickly made you feel comfortable. He was kind, funny, and despite being almost fifteen years older than you, he never treated you like the "new girl."

When you’d first started working together, Jensen was like a mentor to you but soon enough,m he found himself noticing more than just your talent. While you also found yourself noticing things about him—like the way he smiled at you when you two ran lines together or how his hand would linger just a little longer on your arm when you wrapped a scene.

And then, of course, there was the fact that you found him undeniably attractive. Everyone knew Jensen was good-looking, but up close? It was something else entirely. You’d kept it professional, though. He'd just come off a divorce, and the last thing you wanted was to complicate things for him or yourself. Still, there was no denying the chemistry between you two, both on-screen and off. And Jensen wasn't oblivious to the tension that had developed between you over the last few weeks either..

"Hey, y/n," Jensen called from across the table, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was leaning forward, his voice cutting through the laughters around you. "You've been quiet tonight. Everything okay?" You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, just still getting used to it." Jensen grinned, his eyes glistening in the dim light. "You sure? We've got drinks, great company. Seems like a perfect night to me."

You chuckled, sipping your wine to hide the fact that your heart had started beating just a little faster. He'd been like this all night—talkative, laughing easily, and more physical than usual. His hand had brushed your arm more than once when you talked, and every time, your skin began to burn—in a good way.

As the night wore on, the group started to thin out. Some of the cast heading back to the hotel, but you, Jensen, and a few others stuck around, ordering another round of drinks. The bar was cozier now, quieter, and the low lighting gave it an intimate atmosphere.

So Jensen found himself talking to you more closely, the casual distance between you shrinking without you even realizing it. "So, how are you feeling about everything?" He asked, his voice low as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "The show, all this traveling. It's a lot, huh?"

"Yeah," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "It's been amazing, though. A little surreal, honestly. Sometimes I still can't believe I'm here, working with you guys."

"Well, you're killing it," Jensen said, his eyes locking onto yours. "I mean it, y/n. You've been great this season." Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, trying to compose yourself. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Don't downplay it. You're talented as hell. And...you're fun to work with. Really fun," he added, letting his words hang in the air. He hadn't meant for them to sound as loaded as they did, but now that he'd said it, he found himself holding your gaze a little longer, wondering if you’d caught the shift in his tone.

Your heart raced as you glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. Was he just being friendly? Or was there something more behind his words? "I—" you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say, or even if you should say anything at all. But it was hard to ignore the way he was looking at you, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle way his knee brushed against yours under the table.

"You know," he said, his tone lighter now, though his eyes never left yours, "I think we've spent more time together on this road trip than we did shooting the season." You laughed softly, grateful for the slight change in topic. "Yeah, but the road trip's been fun. It's nice getting to see different places, meet fans, and, you know, bond with the cast." Jensen's grin widened. "Bond, huh? Is that what we're calling it?" You laughed, clearly trying to brush off the tension. "What else would you call it?"

"Something else entirely," he said, his voice low, a hint of challenge that sent a shiver through you. Before you could respond though, Karl called over from the bar, breaking the moment. Jensen leaned back, laughing at something the others were saying, but his hand lingered on your lower arm, his thumb tracing a small, almost absent-minded circle against your skin. It was such a subtle gesture, but it sent a thrill through you.

You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on here than just casual flirting. There was tension between the two of you, a pull you couldn't ignore, and you were certain he felt it too. But as much as you wanted to explore whatever this was, you knew you had to be careful. Still, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered every time he looked at you. For now, you’d play it cool. But something told you that whatever was happening between you wasn't going away anytime soon.

Eventually, even the most fun nights had to end. The bar's lights dimmed and everyone decided it was time to call it a night. You all made your way back to the hotel, the cool night air helping to clear your mind, which had been buzzing with thoughts of Jensen all night. When you finally reached your room, you kicked off your shoes and put on your silk pyjamas before flopping onto the bed with a long sigh. The events of the night played in your head—Jensen's teasing remarks, the way he'd stayed close to you, how his touch lingered just a bit too long. There was definitely something there, you could feel it.

But as your thoughts swirled, you suddenly realized something. Your phone. Where was your phone? You shot up, mentally retracing your steps. Then it hit you—you’d given it to Jensen earlier in the night to hold onto because you hadn't brought a purse with you. "Dammit," you muttered, cursing yourself for forgetting. Now you’d have to go to his room and get it back. You groaned inwardly, knowing it would feel awkward after the way you’d been acting all night. But there was no way you could go to bed without your phone.

Reluctantly, you got up, slipped your shoes back on, and headed out of your room. You walked down the hallway, heart thumping a little faster than it should have. You told yourself it was just because you didn't want to bother him this late, but you knew the truth.

It was Jensen.

And the way he made you feel, had you on edge.

When you reached his door, you took a deep breath and knocked. No response. You frowned and knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. You were just about to turn and head back to your room when the door swung open. And there stood Jensen, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, his hair wet and dripping from the shower. He looked at you with those piercing eyes, a playful smirk on his lips, completely unfazed by the fact that he was half-naked in front of you.

Your breath caught in your throat. God, he looked unbelievably sexy. His broad chest was still glistening with water, and your eyes instinctively trailed down over his abs to the towel hanging low on his hips. You were completely overwhelmed, mind scrambling to find words, but all you could do was stand there, staring like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Uh... I—" you stammered, trying to get rid of any filthy thoughts that were coming to you. "I need my phone... I think you have it? I gave it to you earlier at the bar." Jensen raised an eyebrow, amused by the way your cheeks flushed as he smirked. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," he said, his voice playful. "Come on in. I think I put it on the nightstand."

You hesitated for a split second, heart hammering in your chest, but you forced yourself to move, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, cozy, and the scent of his sweet body wash hung in the air. You tried not to focus on how close he was standing to you as you made your way to the nightstand where your phone sat.

As you reached for it, you could feel his eyes on you, the tension between you almost palpable. You picked up the phone, your hand trembling slightly, and turned to face him. He was leaning casually against the wall now, arms crossed, still wearing nothing but that damn towel. His demeanor was teasing, but there was something else in his gaze too—something that made your pulse race even faster.

"You know," Jensen said, his voice low and smooth, "you could've just called for it. Oh wait," he added with a smirk, "you didn't have your phone." You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. "Yeah, a little hard to call without it," you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant but clearly nervous.

Jensen chuckled softly, pushing off the wall and walking toward you, stopping just a few feet away. He looked down at you with that same playful glint in his eyes, the air between you thick with something unspoken. "You sure that's all you came for?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. He saw the hesitation in your eyes, the flicker of doubt, but also curiosity, maybe even a hint of longing.

Your breath hitched. You could feel the tension between you two, the way his gaze held yours, and for a brief second, you wondered what would happen if you just... leaned in. But then reality came crashing back. Jensen had just gone through a divorce. He was vulnerable, and you didn't want to complicate things, not like this. Not now.

You forced yourself to smile, though your heart was still racing. "Yeah," you said, holding up your phone as if to prove your point. "Just needed this." Jensen's eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he stepped back a little, his smirk softening. "Well, you've got it now."

"Thanks," you said quickly, eyes dropping down to the floor as you couldn't bare to look into his piercing green eyes, yet the pull too was strong, so that you raised your head again just seconds later. His eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched you standing there, still holding onto your phone like a lifeline. The playful smirk never leaving his face, his voice low and laced with a teasing challenge.

"Yet you're still here."

The words hung in the air between you, thick with tension. You froze, the grip on your phone tightening. Were you imagining things? Misreading him? The way he had been so flirtatious all night, the casual touches, the lingering glances-it couldn't be nothing, could it?

Your mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the situation. You weren’t sure if you were overthinking or if you were too tipsy to trust your own judgment. But the way he looked at you now, like he was daring you to stay, made your pulse race.

He must have noticed the hesitation in your eyes because his expression shifted. He moved toward you, closing the distance, his hand finding your waist with an almost deliberate slowness. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled you just a bit closer.

It was a bold move, one that made your heart skip a beat. You were taken aback, breath hitching in your chest as you looked up at him. His face was inches from yours now, and the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe. For a moment, your mind raced with mixed emotions. You knew this could complicate everything. And yet, the pull between you was undeniable.

Jensen's thumb gently brushed your side, his touch grounding you as the intensity of the moment swirled around you. His green eyes bore into yours, and for a split second, you were unsure of what to do. But then, in the next heartbeat, your hesitation melted away. Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and urgency.

The second your mouths touched, it was like a dam had broken. The tension that had been simmering between you all night finally erupted into something raw and electric. Jensen responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you fully against him, eager to finally feel you, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

Your mind blurred with a heady mix of desire and disbelief, your hands instinctively finding their way to his bare chest, your fingers grazing his muscles still damp from the shower. You could taste the faint bitterness of alcohol on his lips, and the fact that you were both a little tipsy only seemed to add to the intensity of the moment.

His hands roamed up your sides, one slipping into your hair as the kiss deepened, his body pressing you gently but firmly against the edge of the bed. Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as you softly plunged onto the soft mattress.

You unconsciously bit onto your lower lip as you looked up at him, unholy images replaying in your mind as your gaze fell onto his happy trail, wanting nothing more than to rip that damn towel off of him. Jensen noticed how your eyes stuck to his body just a little too long, eliciting a chuckle out of him, "Go ahead, no need to be all shy now."

For a second, a small ounce of doubt crept into your mind—this was risky, so risky. You two were co-stars, and if anyone found out, it could lead to complications neither of you were ready for. But as Jensen's hand reached down to your chin, grabbing it with his big palm, that doubt vanished, replaced by desire.

You couldn't bare the need for him any longer, immediately getting to work by dropping onto your knees, the anticipation almost killing you as Jensen teasingly began to remove the towel from his hips. His eyes never left yours as he pulled down the white cloth, revealing his already hard cock. The sight of him, made your breath catch in your throat, gulping as you saw how big he actually was.

You came face to face with his length, looking up at him through hooded eyes, "Come on, show me what that pretty mouth can do." He groaned, immediately sending tingles to your core, desperately pressing your thighs together. With easy hands you held him in your soft palms, running your thumb over his tip and spreading the already leaking precum over it.

Pressing your lips together you gathered all your courage and inched closer, sticking out your tongue and licking a stripe all the way from his base to the tip. You repeated this action a few more times, then fully taking him in your mouth as far as you could go.

"Holy fuck, baby." Jensen growled, his head thrown back in pleasure as he couldn't believe how good your wet and warm mouth felt around him, only having imagined it before. You began to swirl your tongue around his cock, jerking off what you couldn't get in your mouth, as he reached to grab a fist full of your hair, yanking you back a little so he could grab at your neck with his other hand.

"You wanna be a good girl for me, right?" He mumbled in between grunts, admiring your plump lips that were so desperately trying to get back to sucking him off. You nodded hastily, this man could literally do anything to you and you’d thank him after.

"Good then, open up wide, baby."

He instantly took advantage of your parted lips and plunged himself down your throat in a swift motion, your eyes widening as you had to gag at the force. "Shhh, relax." Jensen cooed, his voice now softer as he gave you some time to get used to your mouth being full of him.

Once you gave him a small nod he began rolling his hips slowly into your mouth, your hands grabbing at his thighs to steady yourself. It was a weird feeling to have him down your throat so deep but as he continued his movements you began to like it, wanting him to go even harder.

You jerked your face closer to his abdomen, earning a deep and breathless chuckle from him. Realizing how eager you were lapping at his dick he picked up his pace, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again, driving you crazy.

The built up of saliva and precum that was dripping from the corner of your lips, helped Jensen even more to slide his cock in and out of your warm mouth. His grunts became louder and his hands were gripping the back of your head as he fucked your throat, your moans sending vibrations throughout his body, and he knew that if he continued he wouldn't last any longer.

But cuming just in your mouth tonight wouldn't satisfy him, he needed more. Pulling you off him by your hair you shot him a confused look, scared that he might've changed his mind and didn't want any of this, that it was just the alcohol on which behalf he was acting out, but his words quickly made all your doubts vanish.

"Need to finish inside you, y/n." He said, before pulling you back onto your feet and yanking your small frame onto the silky sheets. Towering over you he ran his hands along the soft fabric of your pyjama shorts, pulling them down harshly as you freed yourself from the little top that was just barely covering your tits anyway.

By the way his eyes widened and the way he pulled some air in sharply, you could tell that he took notice of your dripping wet cunt, already leaking onto the sheets. "Jensen.." you whined, the urge to finally feel him inside taking over you.

"Patience, baby." He smirked up at you, eyes full of lust as he placed some teasing kisses onto the insides of your soft thighs, making you squirm in desperation. Jensen jerked his still glistening cock for a few times, his one hand stayed at your chest, playing with your tit, as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Looking up at you for approval, you nodded which gave him the sign to proceed, his tip brushing over your clit and through your slick folds to lube himself up, before pushing into your needy cunt fast. You gasped at the sudden fullness, his cock stretching out your walls so perfectly, making Jensen grunt as he burried himself completely inside you, as if you were made for him.

"Gosh, look how perfect your pretty cunt is sucking me in. Really needed me that bad, huh?" Your eyes scrunched together, feeling yourself get wetter from his words alone. You rapidly nodded, breathing out a soft "mhm..shit..yes" as he chuckled, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck.

He was quick to go back to his previous action, rolling his hips smoothly against yours as he picked up his pace, soon slamming into you at an ungodly speed. The almost pornografic noises that came out of your mouth made him chuckle, clearly knowing that there might be some complaints by the morning, but he didn't care.

He kept on pounding into your eager pussy, your legs wrapped around his hips by now, making him hit much deeper, if that was even humanly possible. "Fuck.. I'm gonna.." you cursed underneath your breath, feeling the familiar knot in your lower stomach screaming for release.

"Cum all over me, sweetheart." Jensen groaned into your ear, his hot breath making your skin prickle. His hand crept down, two of his digits rubbing circles at your clit, causing you to let out a loud, almost scream-like, moan as you released all over him, creaming his cock.

"Fucking shit.." he grunted, teeth pressing into his lower lip as he gave you a few more hard thrusts, pearls of sweat forming on his forehead as he chased his own high. Groaning out loud you felt him twitch inside of you, cuming deep in your cunt, painting your slick walls white.

As both of you calmed down you still couldn't believe that this was actually real, even as Jensen pulled out of you and plopped onto the bed beside you. "Shit y/n, that shower was hella pointless..definitely not complaining though." He laughed, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he wrapped one of his big arms around your waist, pulling you close.

"Well, screams for a round two then." You replied, stroking his muscular chest. "You mean this or the shower?" He eyed you down, a smirk plastered on his face as he pointed in between you two. You just shrugged, yet the devilish smile plastered on your lips gave it away.

wow this was a wild ride, and i am actually kinda proud of this one !!

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @nuemanfilms @hischrrypie @starkeysprincess @drewsarms @rubyvhs @deansenvy @supernatural-wolfie @sammyluvr @nxptvn @rafecameroninterlude @deansbite

[thebiggerbear]

"What do you see in him?" "Everything you don't." - Soldier Boy Prompt Response

Summary: Hughie and everyone don't understand what you see in Soldier Boy but they also haven't seen what you've seen: Ben.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader

A/N: This is part of the Soldier Boy/Beau Arlen/Dean Winchester/CJ Braxton/Alec McDowell/Jason Teague/Tom Hanniger/Russell Shaw/Boaz Priestly/Jake Gray/Jensen Ackles RPF prompt response project I've been working on the last month (previewed here). This idea immediately popped into my head for it.

All unbeta'd.

Warnings: language; implied past sexual assault (not SB); mentions of implied drug use; mentions of violence; mentions of death

Word Count: 2199

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel; @hobby27; @impala67rollingthroughtown

Soldier Boy Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy

@solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria

@believeinthefireflies95

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @bts24; @deans-spinster-witch

@rebel-paladin; @nancymcl

You can also read on AO3

Beau Arlen | Dean Winchester | CJ Braxton | Jake Gray | Jason Teague | Boaz Priestly | Russell Shaw | Tom Hanniger | Jensen Ackles RPF | Alec McDowell

Once MM stormed out of the room, followed by a glaring Butcher, Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie descended on you. Frenchie stayed in the corner, beyond shocked — so shocked he forgot to puff away at his still burning cigarette.

“Seriously?” Annie spat angrily.

Hughie looked more disappointed than pissed off at you, and that somehow bothered you more than Annie’s fury ever could have. “Y/N, you’ve got to explain this one to me. I don’t…” He took a deep breath and began again. “The guy’s a fossil. A racist, homicidal, perverted piece of shit fossil.” Hughie placed his hands on his hips. “What do you even see in the guy?”

Kimiko furiously signed a repeat of the question.

You knew Hughie was right. Soldier Boy had done a lot of fucked up shit — shit that wasn’t forgivable in any way, shape, or form. But you also knew Ben, the man underneath all of that asinine machismo and false bravado. You’d seen glimpses of him here and there when no one else had, when Ben himself hadn’t even known you had. It also didn’t hurt that you’d seen memories of his childhood play in his mind or saw flashes of his strained relationship with his father — the man he could never live up to or gain his approval, no matter how hard he tried. There was a lot swimming underneath the surface of that green suit, under that indestructible skin, that had gotten corrupted and then shaped by easy fame, a greedy corporation, and more drugs than any person should have coursing through their system on a daily basis, even a Supe. All of it was certainly no excuse for the things he’d done, but you knew there was more to him than who he’d been, who he was now even — you’d literally seen it.

So you looked your oldest friend in the eye and spoke as honestly as you could. “Everything you don’t,” you told him quietly before walking out of the room in the opposite direction MM and Butcher had gone in. You came to a stop outside the door when you saw Ben standing there, his green eyes watching you sharply. 

He had obviously heard every word and while it wasn’t exactly something you wanted him to find out, you refused to act embarrassed or caught out. So you stuck your chin up a little higher, daring him to say something he would end up regretting should he piss you off.

“You saw a lot more than you let on when they had you do a read on me after pulling me out of the tube.” Not a question but a statement, one that didn’t contain any traces of surprise.

He was right; you had seen plenty — some things you’d rather forget. But you had meant what you said to Hughie just before, to Butcher and the team before that. There was more to him than the green suit, than the America’s Son bullshit facade, and even the horrible things he had done in his time. There was something there worth trying to extricate, to let see the light of day that hadn’t in a very long time. 

You didn’t respond to what he’d said; you had no need to. You only watched him as he watched you.

Ben took a few wary steps forward until he was right in front of you. He carefully reached out a hand to your cheek, laying his fingers along your skin when he saw that you didn’t immediately pull away from him. 

“So,” he started, his voice a little more gravelly than usual as he spoke quietly to you, only for your ears and his. He tenderly ran his thumb near the corner of your mouth. “I matter to you, huh?”

When you thought he was indeed making fun of you as he thought he might, echoing your words back to you, you noticed a small smile forming on his face as his eyes roamed over yours. You had seen plenty of smiles from the man since you’d first seen him a couple of months ago or so — mostly smug smirks or leering grins, usually aimed at everyone but you — but you had never seen this one before. It caught you off guard so much, you were captivated. “You know you do,” you murmured. 

He stared at you for a moment, glancing between you and your mouth, and then slowly leaned in. When his lips gently connected to yours, you felt an immediate electric shock travel through your system. So much so that you started seeing images playing behind your eyelids that weren’t your own. 

…Him listening to you and Hughie bicker in the next room about which Billy Joel song was the best (We Didn’t Start the Fire for you and Pressure for him) and how he smiled to himself when you told Hughie in a playful tone to suck it when the little whiny bitch tried to show you what the critics helmed the better song. 

…Ben getting angry when some piece of shit Supe had the balls to put his hand on your ass at Herogasm — a hand he immediately crushed.

…Him surreptitiously studying each interaction between you and Butcher, noting the hostility but begrudging respect between you, wondering if there was a story there and if there was, how he planned to convince you that he was the better man for you compared to the backstabbing Brit.

…Him rushing to protect you with his shield when one of Homelander’s team of misfits you didn’t see coming nearly killed you with a massive blow. You felt the rage coursing through his veins when he noticed a small trickle of blood coming from a wound near your scalp as you glanced up at him gratefully. Most of the Supes you had engaged had died that day and now you knew exactly why.

…Ben watching you out of the corner of his eye when you stood at the window, arms crossed and ominously silent, after MM had mentioned The Deep while planning on how to take out Homelander. He waited until everyone had cleared out, even Hughie who had squeezed your shoulder as he passed you by, and Ben carefully approached you from behind, torn between wanting to pull you back into his large frame to cage you protectively in his arms or to ask what was the matter. He had ended up going with the latter and you simply said “Kevin’s not a good person” and walked away, your shoulders a little more sunken down than he’d ever seen them. You felt his resolve from that moment and now knew why he had gone after The Deep with such a laser focus before even bothering with Homelander. 

…You reassuring him when he suddenly woke from a sound sleep, gasping and wide-eyed, as his chest began glowing — a result of him not self-medicating nearly as much as he used to. He had wanted you to feel safe around him so he’d cut back on the Bennies, the reefer, the booze, and even the women. He would never admit it out loud but he cared deeply about what you thought. Unbeknownst to you at the time, when you had first seen inside his head, he had gotten a glimpse inside of yours, too. And what he had seen…he wanted to be a man worthy of you. Or at least try his best. You were everything he hadn’t even known he wanted until that moment. So he had made a valiant effort to kick the drug and alcohol habit to the side but it didn’t come without consequences for him. Ben had dreamt he was back in Russia, stuck in a box as they poked and prodded at him, laughing and telling him he would never be free and he would never see anyone again. When he heard your voice telling him he was safe, he grasped for you and you let him, even though he felt you tense up at his greedy touch. “Sorry,” he gruffed out and immediately released you, worried he had either hurt you without meaning to or had made you uncomfortable in his bid to make sure you were real. “It’s okay,” you whispered, picking up his hand and placing it in between both of yours. “I’m right here. You’re safe.” When he felt your thumb tenderly swiping over his knuckles in reassuring strokes, he rasped out, “Did you see?” Instead of answering, you reached up to lay a hand against his cheek. “You’re home now and you’re never going back.” Your words were a fiery promise enforced by the steely resolve in your eyes. “I won’t let you.” He gently held his hand over yours and the glow in his chest receded; he believed you.

…Him watching you as you slept on the opposite end of the couch. You mumbled and sighed a lot in your sleep and it fascinated him. Earlier, when you had found the show he wanted, he had asked you to sit and watch with him, just in case he didn’t understand any of the references. You had obliged and promptly drifted off two episodes in. To Ben, it was a huge ego boost; you felt safe and comfortable enough around him that you could fall asleep near him. As he watched you, hearing your sounds, he really wanted to know what you were dreaming about, especially when your brows knit together and you let out a terrified whimper. He had picked you up without waking you and held you close to him. “You’re okay, doll,” he promised in a soothing murmur to your hairline. “I’ve got you and nothing is going to happen. I won’t let it.” He heard you inhale deeply and then release a contented sigh a moment later. You relaxed in his arms, curling into him, and he stayed like that the entire night: holding you as he watched episode after episode of Friends, something he had only picked because he thought you might like it enough to agree when he planned to ask you to stay. As much as he enjoyed the sound of your voice when you patiently explained things to him, the night turned out even better than he dared to hope, especially when you subconsciously buried your face into his neck and stayed cocooned there. Only when he heard you beginning to stir back into consciousness hours later did he gently place you back in the spot you fell asleep in, pretending not to notice when you fully woke up, opening one sleepy eye to find him in front of you. He shrugged off your apology and glanced over to find you softly smiling at him, causing a strange twinge to happen inside his chest, something reminiscent of when the nuclear reactor inside of him went off but far less dangerous…and much more pleasant.

The images faded as he slowly pulled back a few inches, his green gaze staring deeply into yours. “Was that okay?”

You slowly nodded, still beyond shocked not only at what you had seen or how gentle the kiss had been, but also the sensations it had caused to sweep through you — things you were pretty sure you’d never feel in your lifetime. Hints of desire and a lightness whispered throughout your body as another stronger emotion gained a foothold and blanketed your entire being. Whereas it might have frightened you before, it didn’t now. You knew you were safe, protected, and after this kiss, you now also knew you were cherished to a certain extent.  

Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, fleeting relief gave way to a small smile on his face and he tenderly placed his thumb on your chin. “Good. Because you matter to me, too.”  

You couldn’t help but smile in return, seeing his eyes light up, and you gently framed his face in your hands. You stood on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his again, eager to see more as he willingly put his guard down to let you completely in. You also wanted to experience that rush of sensations again with him and this time when he wrapped his arms around you to carefully hold you against him, you buried your fingers into his hair and only deepened the kiss. It wasn’t Soldier Boy who was kissing you back and whose thumb tenderly brushed against your jawline; it was Ben — the very Ben you’d seen hidden underneath all of the layers of toxic masculinity, simmering rage, and the Supe tamping down the man with years of drug use, womanizing, and an overinflated ego. And from the images and thoughts swimming in your mind that didn’t belong to you, your Ben by all accounts. Something that sadly Hughie and the rest would never understand or even be willing to try. But as Ben soundly kissed you, when he broke away to let you catch your breath and placed his forehead against yours, tenderly rubbing strands of your hair that had come loose between his fingertips, you found that part didn’t really bother you all that much.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[eternalsams]

Your Woman ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warning/content: 18+ (dear minors, interact and I'll block you), nudity, fluff, smut (dry wet humping, thigh riding?)

summary: when Jake and you decide to shower together, you realize you also have to share the playlist.

word count: 728 (this is so short i'm ashamed)

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. Please don't come at me for the mockery of the country music, I love country music and I love Texas (only because they give us men like Glen Powell and Jensen Ackles)

masterlist

"Right... Cause saving water is the only reason you wanna shower with me?" You chuckle as you grab two fresh towels. "Of course! What other reason would I have?" Jake peaks his head from behind the shower curtain with a sly smirk. You huff and start undressing, not having it in you to deny your boyfriend what you both know you want. As you were about to open the curtain and step into the shower with him, he stops you. "Wait, can you put some music on? My phone's on the bed." You roll your eyes and chuckle before leaving the bathroom to grab his phone.

You see a text from Javy, telling Jake to hurry up if he wanted free beer. You chuckle once more and open Jake's music app. You click on the first playlist suggested and lock the phone before stepping into the shower. Jake's arm immediately wraps around your waist and you let out a gasp as you almost slip on the wet tile. "I gotcha', darlin'." He leans in to you and brush his lips against yours. "My hero..." You mutter and he smiles widely before kissing you.

The hand on your waist slides down to your ass and kneads the flesh, making you giggle against his lips. His other hand snakes at the back of your neck as he parts your lips with his tongue, licking deliciously into your mouth. Jake grabs the back of your thigh and pull you more into him, slotting one of his legs between yours. The friction of his muscular thigh against your core has you whimpering but Jake doesn't do anything more than just swaying his hips with yours. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath after he just kissed the air out of your lungs. That's when you hear it, the music. The sounds of the electric guitar playing country has you rolling your eyes and scoffing. "Don't make fun of my music, sweetheart." Jake purrs, looking down at you. "I'm not making fun. I just don't like it." You defend yourself. The swaying of his hips in rhythm has you quietly whining as his leg rubs perfectly against your pussy. "I feel like you're rather enjoying yourself." He chuckles, dipping his head to place a kiss on your lips. "You're not playing fair." You sigh, trying to suppress the shiver that's threatening to make your body tremble.

"I can't believe how much it turns me on..." Jake's low voice sings along the music, making you chuckle. "There's no hurry, don't you worry..." He keeps singing, swaying his hips in rhythm and pecking kisses along your jaw. "We can take our time." You finish the lyrics and Jake pulls away to look at you with a surprised smile. "You do know the lyrics. Come a little closer..." He accompanies his words by pulling you even closer and dragging your clit over his thigh and having you whining for more. You can feel his hardening cock poking at your hip but you don't care, you cannot think of anything else than the delicious feeling of his skin rubbing on your clit. Your lips latch onto his neck and your teeth nibble at his skin as you start to feel the knot in your tummy tightening.

Never in your life you would have thought you could have an orgasm to country music. But here you are, gasping and squeezing Jake's shoulders as you came on his thigh, listening to him singing along some stupid country ballad. "That's it, let go for me sweetheart." He purrs next to your ear, holding you firmly as he kept swaying his hips to help you ride out your orgasm. You let your head fall on his shoulder and he tenderly kisses the back of your head as you're catching your breath. "Such a good girl." He grabs your face and makes you look at him, giving you a soft smile. "So good for me." You return the smile weakly and reach for his face to kiss him. The song finally ends and when you think you can go back to having a normal shower, another country song starts. "Nope, not doing this again." You say as you step out of the shower to change his playlist. Jake only laughs and try to ignore to throbbing ache between his legs.

taglist:

@hardballoonlove

@blue-aconite

@iliketopgun

@callsign-hummingbird

@roosterforme

@jessicab1991

@atarmychick007

@hangmansgbaby

@callsigns-haze

@mamachasesmayhem

@els-marvelvsp

@djs8891

[writethelifeyouwant]

NEW CHAPTER POSTING TONIGHT! Are you caught up yet??

Shadows | Masterlist

Summary: When Jensen’s wife suddenly disappears, leaving him alone with their two-year-old daughter, his friends and co-workers band around him to find out what happened and help him raise Mia. His wife’s body is never found, no ransom demand is ever made, and no clues as to her whereabouts ever surface. That is until Jensen has finally moved on with his life and started to heal his little family, and something happens to turn his new world upside down all over again.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader (+ More) Rating: 18+ Fic Warnings: Dark Themes, Violence, Emotional Manipulation, and Consent Issues Tags: Alternate Universe, Actor AU, Actor!Jensen, Female!Reader, Jared owns a gym, JDM owns a farm, series, J2 are lifelong besties, everyone lives in Texas, probably some fluff, mystery, deception, smut

Comissioned by: @synmorite! with plotting help from @hoboal87 😈

A/N: This is not a traditional Reader Insert fic. For all intents and purposes, Y/N is an original character like you would find in any novel and the only blank left for you to fill in will be your own name. To that end, the characters of Jensen, Jared and Jeff will also bear minimal resemblance to their namesakes besides physical appearance and some shared personality traits. They are, again, their own original characters that I am basically casting these actors to play, and nothing they do in the story should be considered a reflection on the real men or their character.

A/N 2: There are a lot of twists and turns coming up in this story. To avoid spoilers, the only warnings I’m going to put on the story at this time are Dark Themes, Violence, Emotional Manipulation, and Consent Issues. These will be recurring themes throughout the story, and if any may be problematic for you, please consider carefully if this is the right thing for you to read. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Live on my website:

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 - Mar 7th

Live on Tumblr:

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 posting Mar 7th

This series will post every Tuesday starting in February. If you want to read 4 weeks ahead of Tumblr, come join my website for early access to Shadows, plus access to a whole library of exclusive fics you won't find posted anywhere else!

[winwintea]

tetris

PAIRING ↬ gamer!park jisung x fem!reader (feat. zhong chenle)

TAGS ↬ fluff, action, romance, some angst, hidden feelings, 80s au, video game competitions, unrequited love or so he thought, best friend's girlfriend trope, winwin shows up randomly i love you my winsung anon

SUMMARY ↬ living up to the pressures of becoming a famous tetris player might be hard for a guy like park jisung. but it's much more difficult when the girl he’s got a crush on may actually be his best friend's girlfriend.

WORD COUNT ↬ 10.1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ happy birthday queen @viasdreams !!! hope you enjoy as much as i had writing this (i suffered) and thank you to @polarisjisung for usual for being my beta reader <33. also i know tetris came out late 80s and was popular during the early 90s too but for aesthetic purposes im saying 80s

PLAYLIST ↬ saturday night - bay city rollers; tetoris - hiiragi magnetite; jessie’s girl - rick springfield; working for the weekend - loverboy; shoot to thrill - ac/dc; don’t play games - martin jensen; i’m still standing - elton john; cherry bomb - the runaways; hold on tight - aespa; one way or another - blondie; i ran - a flock of seagulls; choose your fighter - ava max

THE FIRST TIME PARK JISUNG PLACED HIS HANDS ON AN ARCADE MACHINE, HE WAS HOOKED.

When he felt the rough texture of the joystick, he felt a tremor in his chest. It wasn’t fear, nor excitement, but something in between. The flicker of the screen pulled him into a world he didn’t yet understand but felt desperate to explore.

The arcade around him was alive, buzzing with the electric hum of machines, the crash of digital waves, and the clatter of coins. Yet, in this moment, all the chaos faded into one singular thing: the falling blocks on the screen.

His fingers hovered over the controls, trembling. When they pressed down, the buttons responded with a slight resistance that grounded him, pulled him into the world on the screen. The joystick was smoother than he expected, gliding under his unsure grip. The first piece—a long, yellow bar—fell into place. Then another. And another.

For Jisung, the world seemed to shift with each line he cleared. These weren’t just blocks; they were each a piece of himself, shifting and rearranging to fit into something bigger. Each ping from the machine was a quiet reassurance, telling him that for once, he was doing something right.

The weight of his usual insecurities were being lifted, then replaced by an unfamiliar confidence. His heart raced, not from anxiety but from a kind of joy he didn’t think he was allowed to feel. This machine didn’t care about how shy he was, how awkward his words sounded, or how he tended to shrink away when the world got too loud. All it asked was that he see the shapes, find the patterns, and keep going.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he’d found something. A purpose.

Jisung didn’t think of himself as anything special, and most of the time, neither did anyone else. He was the kind of person who slipped into a room without making a sound, his lanky frame perpetually hunched as if apologizing for taking up space. His dark hair often fell into his eyes, a convenient shield against the world’s attention. At school, he was known only as “that tall, quiet kid.” Teachers liked him for his politeness. Classmates tolerated him for his unobtrusiveness.

His best friend, Chenle, was the exact opposite. The sun to Jisung’s shadow, always shining and dragging Jisung into the light whether he wanted it or not. When Jisung hesitated, Chenle jumped in headfirst, loud and full of laughter. Their friendship didn’t make sense to most people, least of all Jisung, but somehow it worked.

“C’mon, slowpoke!” Chenle called over his shoulder, his voice easily cutting through the noise of the crowded street. “Pixel Haven’s gonna get packed if you don’t move!”

Jisung trailed a few steps behind, his hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets. Friday nights at the arcade were a tradition Chenle had started months ago, and Jisung tagged along because… well, because it was Chenle. He didn’t really play the games. Watching Chenle dominate the machines or charm the employees was enough for him.

Pixel Haven came into view, its neon sign glowing pink and blue against the dim evening sky. Inside, the arcade was a sensory overload of flashing lights, cheerful 8-bit melodies, and the unmistakable clink of coins being fed into machines.

Chenle pushed open the door, holding it wide. “Hurry up, man! They got a new game in!”

Jisung shuffled inside, his head immediately dropping down to look at his sneakers. Even though the arcade was bustling with busy teenagers, he felt like every pair of eyes could land on him at any moment. He stuck close to Chenle, who bounded ahead like an excited puppy.

The arcade was Chenle’s kingdom. He knew everyone. He always high-fived the regulars, playfully bantered with his street fighter competitors, and was always trying to introduce someone to Jisung. But Jisung was content being a silent observer, finding a quiet corner to lean against while Chenle made his rounds.

Unfortunately for Jisung, Chenle had other plans.

“Hey, Jisung, check this out!” Chenle pointed to the brand new Tetris machine, it’s screen cycling through vividly colored blocks. “Bet you’d be good at this.”

Jisung blinked at the machine, his lanky frame stiffening as if the suggestion were a spotlight being aimed at him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Before Jisung could protest, Chenle shoved a quarter into his hand and practically dragged him toward the machine. The crowd around it thinned slightly, making space as Chenle announced, “Alright, people, make way for my boy here. Jisung’s about to show you how it’s done.”

Jisung’s ears burned as a few heads turned toward him. He could already feel the weight of their eyes, his anxiety prickling at the edges of his mind. “Chenle, I—”

“Stop overthinking,” Chenle interrupted, patting his shoulder. “Just play. I promise, you’ll love it.”

Jisung stared at the glowing screen. The cheerful music beckoned him, the falling shapes almost hypnotic. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, sliding the quarter into the slot. The machine chimed, and the first piece appeared at the top of the screen.

Although this was his first time, the controls felt familiar. The buttons responded with a satisfying click to his every touch, the joystick smooth under his palm. He hesitated for a split second before rotating the first piece and sending it down. It clicked into place.

Then another piece came, and another. His fingers moved instinctively, rotating, shifting, dropping. The lines started clearing, one after the other, and the game's upbeat sounds grew more frequent.

The world around him faded, the noise of the arcade blending into a dull hum. His focus sharpened, each piece fitting perfectly into a strategy that seemed to form effortlessly in his mind. Shapes became patterns, and patterns became solutions.

“Holy shit. He’s actually good,” someone murmured behind him.

“Good? Are you kidding? He’s crushing it!” Chenle exclaimed, his voice cutting through the growing excitement.

Jisung didn’t register their words, his eyes fixed on the screen. The pace quickened, the pieces falling faster, but he kept up. His long fingers danced over the controls, rotating pieces with precision and dropping them into place. A four-line clear flashed on the screen—a Tetris—and the small crowd erupted into cheers.

Jisung blinked, momentarily snapping out of his trance. He looked over his shoulder, startled by the group that had formed behind him. Chenle was at the front, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Keep going!” Chenle yelled. “You’re on fire!”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jisung’s lips, the rare feeling of pride warming his chest. He turned back to the game, determined to see how far he could go.

For the next few minutes, Jisung played like he was in a world of his own, the lines stacking and clearing in rapid succession. When the inevitable “Game Over” finally flashed on the screen, a ripple of applause broke out behind him.

Jisung stepped back, his cheeks flushed, his heart racing. Chenle clapped him on the back, his laugh loud and contagious. “What did I tell you? Tetris wiz, right here!”

Jisung glanced at the score on the screen—higher than he’d expected, but the number barely mattered. For the first time, he felt like he belonged, like he’d found something he was actually good at.

And judging by the awed looks from the small crowd, they thought so too.

Jisung didn’t know much about you, other than the obvious. You worked the counter at Pixel Haven most nights, moving between tasks with effortless ease. Always handing out quarters, fixing the occasional glitchy machine, and keeping the arcade running smoothly. And, of course, you were Chenle’s girlfriend. That part was impossible to miss.

Chenle had introduced you once, casually slinging his arm around your shoulders as he bragged about beating the high score on Galaga. Jisung remembered offering a small, awkward wave while you smiled politely, your attention more on Chenle than him. Since then, you’d only been a background presence, someone Jisung saw but never really thought about.

Until tonight.

He’d run out of quarters after his third Tetris run and found himself lingering near the counter, clutching a few crumpled bills in his clammy hands. Chenle was off challenging someone at Street Fighter again, leaving Jisung on his own.

You were busy at the counter, sorting a handful of tokens while chatting with another customer. The neon glow from the sign above cast soft shadows across your face, and for a moment, Jisung hesitated. Asking you for change felt… strange. You weren’t just the person behind the counter. You were Chenle’s girlfriend. That fact alone made this simple interaction feel like crossing some unspoken line.

But he needed quarters, so he shuffled forward, his head down, and placed the bills on the counter.

You looked up, and for the first time, your eyes met his directly. “Oh, hey,” you said, your voice light and friendly. “Need some quarters?”

He froze, the words stuck in his throat. You were smiling. Warmly, like you genuinely wanted to help. Jisung nodded, sliding the bills closer to you.

You took them, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment as you counted out the quarters. “Here you go,” you said, placing them into his outstretched hand. “Good luck out there.”

That smile. It wasn’t just a gesture. It felt different, even if Jisung knew it probably wasn’t. You were like this with everyone, weren’t you? Friendly, approachable, easygoing. It was why Chenle liked you so much.

But still, Jisung felt something shift inside him. Your smile lingered in his mind as he turned away, clutching the quarters tightly in his fist. His chest tightened, but not with the usual pang of nerves. Instead, it was with something he couldn’t quite name.

It was strange, the way that tiny moment replayed in his head as he walked back to the Tetris machine. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. You were just being nice, just doing your job.

But as the night wore on, Jisung found himself glancing toward the counter more often than he meant to. He tried not to think too much about it, but something small and misshapen had taken root in his chest, fragile but undeniably there.

You were Chenle’s girlfriend. He barely knew you. And yet, your kindness had left a mark he couldn’t ignore.

The arcade quickly became Jisung’s second home. Every chance he got—between school, homework, and the occasional group hangout he reluctantly attended—he found himself back at Pixel Haven.

At first, it was a way to pass the time, a distraction from the things that weighed him down. But soon, Tetris became more than that. The falling blocks weren’t just shapes anymore; they were puzzles waiting to be solved, challenges daring him to do better, to think faster. He didn’t just play the game—he immersed himself in it, memorizing patterns, calculating strategies, and finding a strange sense of peace in the rhythmic clearing of lines.

The change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Dude, you’re, like, a full-blown Tetris addict now,” Chenle teased one night, leaning casually against the machine as Jisung started yet another round. His hands were full of snacks he’d grabbed from the counter, and his grin was as wide as ever. “I should start calling you ‘The Tetris Wizard or ‘TetWiz’ for short”.

Jisung flushed, his long fingers hovering over the controls as the pieces began to fall. “I’m not that good,” he muttered, barely audible over the hum of the arcade.

“Are you kidding me?” Chenle laughed, nearly spilling his soda. “You’re insane at this. Like, next-level insane. You’ve got the whole crowd thing going on, too.”

Jisung paused mid-game, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, a few regulars had gathered nearby, casually watching his progress. Their murmured admiration sent a wave of heat to his cheeks.

Chenle clapped him on the back. “See? WizKid status.” He took a swig of his drink, then grinned mischievously. “Hey, you know what? There’s a tournament coming up. Local thing. You should totally enter.”

The words hit Jisung like a truck. No, like someone dropped a T-piece on his head. He fumbled with the joystick, sending a block spiraling into the wrong position. “What? No. No way.”

“Why not?” Chenle’s voice rose in playful disbelief. “You’ve been killing it lately. This is your chance to show everyone how good you are. Plus, think of the bragging rights. I’ll tell everyone I trained you.”

Jisung’s heart pounded, the idea of playing in front of a crowd making his palms sweat. He’d barely gotten used to the small groups that gathered at the arcade. A tournament meant real attention. Real pressure.

“I… I don’t think I can,” he stammered, his gaze fixed on the screen.

Chenle rolled his eyes but didn’t push. “Alright, alright. Baby steps, TetWiz. But think about it, okay? You’d crush it.”

Jisung nodded absently, but the thought lingered long after Chenle wandered off to bother someone else. A tournament? It seemed impossible, unthinkable. Yet, as he continued to play, clearing line after line with growing precision, a small, persistent voice in the back of his mind whispered something different: What if you could?

The flyer for the Pixel Haven Tetris Tournament taunted Jisung from his desk, its bright colors and bold letters shouting promises of prizes, glory, and recognition. He’d stared at it for days, the weight of Chenle’s encouragement and your casual, kind words tipping the scales of his indecision.

“You’d do great,” you’d said just a few nights ago when Chenle joked about Jisung’s reluctance. There wasn’t much to your comment—just a simple smile as you slid quarters across the counter. But it stuck with him, a quiet nudge in the direction he wasn’t sure he could take.

When he finally signed up, his hand trembled so much he nearly misspelled his own name.

The tournament day arrived far too quickly. Pixel Haven was louder than ever, filled with spectators and players buzzing with excitement. The Tetris machine had been moved to the center of the arcade, its screen glowing like a beacon under the dim, colorful lights.

Jisung stood at the edge of the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. His palms were clammy, his legs stiff, and every sound around him felt amplified—quarters clinking, machines chiming, people shouting.

Chenle found him near the snack counter, looking pale and uneasy. “Hey, TetWiz,” he said, clapping Jisung on the shoulder. “Don’t psych yourself out. You’ve got this.”

Jisung shook his head, barely able to meet Chenle’s gaze. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course, you can!” Chenle’s voice was loud, confident, and exactly what Jisung wished he could feel. “You’re the best player here. No one’s even close. Just… pretend it’s like any other Friday night.”

“Except with an even bigger crowd watching,” Jisung muttered under his breath.

At that moment, you appeared, slipping out from behind the counter to join Chenle. Your presence was calm, grounding. “You’ve got this,” you said simply, your eyes meeting Jisung’s.

His stomach twisted. You were Chenle’s girlfriend. 

Off-limits. 

But your words carried a strange weight, one that settled the storm in his chest just enough.

The tournament began. Jisung’s hands trembled as he approached the machine, the controls suddenly feeling unfamiliar under his fingers. The room seemed to close in around him as the first piece appeared on the screen.

The opening rounds blurred together, a mix of adrenaline and fear propelling him forward. Each cleared line earned cheers from the crowd, but Jisung barely registered them. His focus tunneled in on the screen, every move a desperate attempt to keep the pieces from piling too high.

By the time he reached the finals, his nerves were raw, his breaths shallow. Chenle stood nearby, shouting encouragement, and you offered a quiet thumbs-up that somehow cut through the noise.

The final match was intense. His opponent was fast, their moves sharp and deliberate. The pieces fell faster than ever, the music speeding up to a frenetic pace that matched Jisung’s racing heart.

You can do this, he told himself, gripping the joystick tightly. He visualized the patterns, the strategies he’d practiced endlessly. The lines cleared one after another, the Tetris flashes lighting up the screen.

When the final piece fell into place, and the victory chime rang out, the room erupted into cheers. Jisung blinked, his mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.

“You did it!” Chenle shouted, throwing an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “First place, TetWiz! I told you!”

Jisung stared at the screen, his name flashing in bold letters at the top of the leaderboard. His hands shook—not with fear, but with something new. Pride.

You approached him, your smile soft and genuine. “Congratulations, Jisung. That was amazing.”

He swallowed hard, unable to find the words to respond. But as the applause continued and the weight of the moment settled in, something shifted inside him. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, he was capable of more.

Jisung wasn’t sure when it started. The way his chest tightened whenever you were near, or how your smile lingered in his thoughts. Maybe it was during one of those small, fleeting moments when you actually listened to him. Not the way most people did, with polite nods and half-hearted attention, but really listened.

You never looked bored or impatient when he talked. Never when he stumbled over his words trying to explain a tricky T-spin maneuver or the satisfaction of a perfectly timed Tetris. Instead, you leaned on the counter, your eyes warm and curious, asking questions that made him feel like his passion wasn’t just valid but worth sharing.

And that was the problem.

Because as much as he admired you, as much as his chest filled with warmth during those rare conversations, there was always Chenle. Loud, confident, and so completely your match.

Jisung couldn’t deny it: Chenle made you laugh in a way that lit up the whole room. He’d see you together. Your arm looped through Chenle’s, his jokes drawing out those bright, unrestrained giggles. All of it felt like a sharp, twisting ache in his chest.

He hated the feeling. The guilt. The jealousy.

Chenle was his best friend, the person who dragged him out of his shell, cheered him on, and believed in him when he barely believed in himself. And you—kind, patient, radiant—you were Chenle’s girlfriend. That was the unshakable truth.

So Jisung did the only thing he could think of to cope. He played tetris.

Hours at Pixel Haven turned into entire evenings, his focus narrowing to the Tetris machine like it was his lifeline. The rhythm of the game, the familiar patterns and strategies, became his escape. When the blocks fell into place, clearing line after line, the noise in his head quieted.

He didn’t have to think about the way his heart raced when you smiled at him or the pang of envy when you rested your head on Chenle’s shoulder.

Chenle noticed, of course. “Man, you’re really going hard lately,” he said one night, watching Jisung rack up yet another high score. “Not that I’m complaining. You’re basically a celebrity here now.”

Jisung forced a smile, his hands tightening around the joystick. “Just… trying to get better.”

Chenle didn’t press further, but Jisung could feel his gaze shift, a flicker of concern hidden behind his usual grin.

And then there was you.

Sometimes, you’d wander over to the Tetris machine during a quiet moment at the counter, watching him play with that same patient interest that made his heart ache.

“You’re amazing at this,” you’d say, your voice soft and genuine.

And Jisung would mumble a shy thank you, barely able to meet your gaze. He wondered if you noticed how fast his hands moved on the controls when you were nearby, or how the screen blurred just slightly because his focus wavered.

He told himself it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. You were Chenle’s, and he had no right to feel the way he did.

So he buried it, block by block, line by line, throwing himself deeper into the game as if sheer determination could erase the feelings growing stronger with every interaction.

But no matter how many lines he cleared, the ache in his chest remained.

Chenle wasn’t the type to dwell on things. He lived in the moment, taking life as it came, confident and carefree. But lately, something about Jisung had been bothering him.

It wasn’t just the obsessive way Jisung threw himself into Tetris, though that was part of it. Chenle had always known Jisung to be shy and focused, but lately, he seemed… different. Distracted. Like his thoughts were someplace—or with someone—else.

And then there were the looks.

Chenle didn’t want to read too much into it, but he’d caught Jisung’s gaze more than once when you were around. At first, he brushed it off. Jisung was awkward around everyone—why would this be any different? But the more it happened, the harder it was to ignore.

One night, after another long session at Pixel Haven, Chenle finally decided he couldn’t keep quiet.

Jisung was hunched over the Tetris machine, his face illuminated by the screen’s soft glow. The arcade was quieter than usual, most of the crowd having thinned out as the evening wore on. Chenle approached with his usual grin, though this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, TetWiz,” he said casually, leaning against the side of the machine. “Taking over the world one line at a time?”

Jisung glanced at him, his hands never leaving the controls. “Something like that,” he mumbled.

Chenle studied him for a moment, his grin fading. “You know,” he began, his tone light but laced with something sharper, “you’ve been acting kind of weird lately.”

Jisung’s fingers faltered, and the game over screen flashed before he could recover. He let out a quiet sigh, stepping back from the machine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Chenle said, crossing his arms, “you’ve been avoiding me, for one. And for another… I’ve noticed the way you look at her.”

Jisung froze, his heart sinking. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb, Jisung. You think I haven’t seen it? The way you watch her when you think no one’s looking? How you act all nervous when she’s around? Come on, man. You’re my best friend. If there’s something going on, just tell me.”

Panic surged in Jisung’s chest. He shook his head quickly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “There’s nothing going on,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I don’t… I don’t feel that way about her.”

Chenle’s eyes narrowed, his usual easy going demeanor slipping away. That wasn’t what he was suspecting. He actually thought you had said something to Jisung that made him uncomfortable. But having feelings for you? Chenle forgot that was even an option. He suddenly felt a surge of jealousy. “Jisung, I’m not stupid. I know you better than anyone.”

“I don’t!” Jisung’s voice rose slightly, the desperation clear. “I—I swear, Chenle. It’s not like that.”

The tension hung heavy between them, the arcade’s neon lights casting sharp shadows across their faces.

Chenle exhaled slowly, his expression softening just a little. “Look, I trust her, okay? I trust you. But if there’s something you’re not telling me… just be honest. Don’t let this mess things up.”

Jisung’s throat tightened, guilt clawing at his insides. He wanted to tell the truth, to admit the feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But the fear of losing Chenle—his best friend, his biggest supporter—was too much to bear.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said quietly, his hands clenched at his sides.

Chenle studied him for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Finally, he nodded, though the tension in his posture remained. “Alright. If you say so.”

But as he walked away, leaving Jisung alone by the Tetris machine, the rift between them felt wider than ever.

For the first time in years, Jisung wasn’t sure if Chenle still believed in him—or if he even believed in himself.

The state Tetris championship was a dream Jisung never dared to dream. And now, as his name sat proudly on the qualifying list, it felt more like a nightmare.

The arcade was quiet that night, the usual hum of voices replaced by the occasional beep of a forgotten pinball machine. Jisung sat slumped on a bench near the Tetris machine, the glow of the screen casting long shadows across his face. His hands fidgeted with the crumpled flyer announcing the championships, the bold letters seeming to mock him.

State Champion. The words felt impossibly big, like they belonged to someone else.

The weight of it all—the expectations, the pressure, the growing distance between him and Chenle—pressed down on him like a heavy block he couldn’t clear. His chest felt tight, his thoughts spiraling in an endless loop of self-doubt.

He didn’t even hear you approach.

“You okay?”

Your voice was soft, cutting through the quiet like a gentle melody. Jisung jumped, his head snapping up to see you standing nearby, concern etched across your features.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

You didn’t buy it. Instead, you sat down on the bench beside him, leaving just enough space to respect his shyness. You glanced at the flyer in his hands, then back at him.

“It’s a big deal, huh?” you said, your tone light but understanding.

Jisung hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s too big,” he admitted quietly. “I… I don’t think I can do it.”

The words felt like a confession, raw and vulnerable. He didn’t know why he was telling you this. Maybe it was the way you always seemed to listen without judgment, or the way your presence felt steady and safe.

You tilted your head, your eyes warm. “Why not?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because… because what if I mess up? What if I let everyone down? Chenle’s been calling me a ‘wizard,’ hyping me up to everyone. People actually watch me now, like I’m supposed to be… someone. But I’m not. I’m just…”

“Jisung,” you finished gently.

He nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah. Just Jisung. And I don’t think just Jisung is good enough for this.”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything. The hum of the arcade filled the silence, a soft, steady rhythm that seemed to match his unsteady breathing.

Then, you leaned forward, your voice quiet but firm. “You know, when I watch you play, it’s not just about the score or the tournament or any of that. It’s the way you light up when you’re in the zone, like nothing else matters. It’s like… you’re in your own world, and it’s incredible to see.”

Jisung blinked, his heart skipping a beat. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“You don’t have to know right now,” you said with a small smile. “But Jisung, this isn’t about being a wizard or a champion or whatever anyone else thinks. It’s about you. Your love for this game, your talent. That’s what matters. Not winning. Just you doing what you love.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. Jisung’s heart raced as your words lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a lifeline. He hadn’t expected you to understand him so completely, let alone say the exact thing he needed to hear.

For a brief moment, he forgot about everything else. The tournament, the pressure, even Chenle. All he could focus on was you. The warmth in your voice, the way you looked at him like he was someone worth believing in.

The weight in his chest shifted, and before he knew it, his thoughts spilled over.

“I—” He paused, the words catching in his throat.

You tilted your head, curious but patient, your expression inviting him to continue.

He could feel it, the overwhelming urge to tell you. To say something, anything, about the way he felt—the way you made him feel. How his heart ached and soared all at once whenever you were near.

But then, just as quickly, reality crashed back in.

Chenle. His best friend. Your boyfriend.

Jisung swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t do it. No matter how much his heart screamed at him to say the truth, he couldn’t betray Chenle like that.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, his voice barely steady. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. For, you know… everything.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, as if sensing that he wasn’t ready to say more. “Anytime,” you replied, standing up to head back to the counter.

Jisung watched you go, his chest heavy with unspoken words. He let out a shaky breath, his hands clenching the crumpled flyer in his lap.

But he wasn’t the only one watching.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Chenle stood near the doorway, hidden by the dim light and arcade cabinets. He had arrived just moments ago, intending to meet Jisung and hang out like they always did. But instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, watching the two of you.

At first, it didn’t seem like much—just a quiet conversation between friends. But the way Jisung looked at you… it wasn’t hard for Chenle to see what was really going on.

It wasn’t the look of someone simply grateful for support. It was something deeper, more vulnerable. Something Chenle had never seen in Jisung before.

His chest tightened, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. He wasn’t angry—not yet. But there was a pang of something sharp and unfamiliar, like jealousy’s distant cousin.

He trusted you, and he trusted Jisung. But trust didn’t erase what he had just seen.

Chenle stepped back into the shadows, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t shake the image of Jisung’s expression—the way his gaze lingered on you, filled with something Chenle couldn’t quite name but knew wasn’t meant for him.

For the first time, Chenle felt uncertain. About Jisung. About you. About everything.

And as he walked away from the arcade that night, the unspoken tension between the three of you began to grow, pulling tighter with each passing moment.

The auditorium buzzed with energy, the hum of anticipation vibrating through the air as rows of arcade cabinets lined the stage, each boasting the Tetris logo in bright neon. Competitors adjusted their machines, the crowd murmured excitedly, and Jisung stood frozen at the edge of it all, feeling impossibly small.

The state Tetris championship. He was really here.

Jisung’s stomach churned, his nerves nearly overtaking him. He gripped the strap of his backpack, his fingers twitching with a restless energy. His mind wasn’t just crowded with thoughts of the game but with everything else—Chenle, you, the weight of unspoken feelings.

Before he could spiral any further, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?”

Jisung blinked and turned to see a tall, relaxed guy about a few years older standing next to him. The stranger held a can of pop, his messy hair framing a face that somehow managed to look both half-asleep and mildly curious.

“I—uh…” Jisung stammered, caught off guard.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” the stranger said bluntly, taking a sip of his pop. “Big deal tournament jitters?”

Jisung hesitated, but something about the guy’s laid-back demeanor made him exhale a little. “Yeah, kind of,” he admitted.

“Let me guess,” the stranger said, leaning against a nearby wall. “Scared you’ll lose? Or scared you’ll win and, like, your entire life will change forever?”

“Both,” Jisung muttered.

The stranger raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Yeah, fair. Tetris is wild like that.”

Something about his casual tone loosened Jisung’s tongue. Before he knew it, he was rambling.

“It’s not just the game,” he confessed, the words tumbling out. “It’s everything else. My best friend…he’s been supporting me, but I think I’ve messed things up between us. And then there’s this girl…” His voice trailed off, his ears burning.

The stranger tilted his head. “Oh, so it’s love and Tetris. Double whammy.”

Jisung winced. “I don’t know what to do. I like her, but she’s with my best friend, and I feel like the worst person in the world. And now I’m here, and I’m supposed to play like none of this matters, but it does.”

The stranger stared at him for a moment, then sighed, setting down his soda. “Okay, look. I’m not great at advice, but here’s what I’ve got: You’re not gonna fix your love life today. But this tournament? It’s yours. You’ve got one job—play your absolute fucking best. Worry about the rest later.”

Jisung blinked, the simplicity of the advice sinking in. “That’s it?” 

“Yep.” The stranger smirked. “Oh, and maybe stop thinking about her for like, five seconds while you play. Otherwise, you’ll never clear a line.”

Despite himself, Jisung let out a nervous laugh. “Thanks, uh…”

“Sicheng,” the guy said, giving a small wave before walking off with his soda.

Jisung stood there for a moment, the stranger’s words echoing in his head. One job. Play your absolute fucking best.

The announcement of his name jolted him back to reality. Heart pounding, he made his way to the stage, the crowd’s cheers swelling around him.

He spotted Chenle instantly, standing in the front row and waving wildly, his energy uncontainable. “Go, TetWiz!” Chenle yelled, his voice cutting through the noise.

Jisung’s chest tightened. Despite everything, the tension, the doubts, Chenle was still there, cheering him on.

And then he saw you, standing beside Chenle. Your smile was quieter, softer, but it carried the same weight of belief that you’d shown him back at Pixel Haven. Your eyes met his, and you gave a small, encouraging nod.

Jisung took a deep breath, his hands gripping the controls as he sat down.

The countdown began.

Three.

The noise of the crowd faded away.

Two.

His fingers hovered over the buttons, his mind sharpening to a single point of focus.

One.

Play your absolute fucking best.

The game began, the familiar shapes dropping from the top of the screen like old friends. His nervousness melted away as he found his rhythm, the blocks slotting into place with satisfying precision.

The crowd roared as he cleared line after line, the tension building with each level. But Jisung didn’t hear it. For the first time in weeks, his mind was clear, his focus solely on the game.

This wasn’t about Chenle, or you, or even the title. This was about Jisung—the quiet boy who found a spark of something extraordinary in the chaos of falling blocks.

Then the final round began, and the stakes had never felt higher. Jisung sat at the machine, his hands steady but his heart pounding as the screen lit up with the familiar grid. Across from him, his opponent—a seasoned Tetris player with years of experience—cracked their knuckles, exuding a calm confidence that only added to Jisung’s nerves.

The crowd quieted as the final countdown began again.

Three.

Jisung tightened his grip on the joystick.

Two.

His gaze locked on the screen, blocking out everything else.

One.

The pieces started to fall, faster than in any game he’d played before. The early levels felt manageable, his fingers moving on autopilot as he cleared lines with precision. But as the speed increased, so did the tension.

His opponent was good. Better than anyone Jisung had ever faced. They kept pace with him, their screen just as clear, their movements just as calculated. It wasn’t just a game anymore; it was a test of endurance, strategy, and nerves.

The minutes stretched on, each line cleared pushing Jisung further into uncharted territory. His heart raced as he reached the kill screen level—the point where the game’s speed maxed out, and most players couldn’t keep up.

Most players.

Jisung’s vision narrowed, his world shrinking to the grid in front of him. His fingers danced over the controls, rotating and dropping pieces with a precision that felt almost otherworldly. The crowd was a distant roar, his opponent a vague shadow in his peripheral vision.

He wasn’t thinking anymore; he was flowing.

When the final piece dropped into place, clearing a line and bringing his score to a record-breaking high, the machine emitted a triumphant chime.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the auditorium erupted.

The crowd leaped to their feet, cheering and clapping, the noise echoing off the walls. Lights flashed, cameras clicked, and Jisung sat there, stunned, as the reality of what he’d just accomplished began to sink in.

He’d won.

Not just the championship, but something deeper. For the first time, Jisung felt the rush of pride, not just for the victory but for the journey that had brought him here.

Chenle’s voice cut through the chaos, louder than anyone else’s. “You did it, Ji! He fucking did it!”

Jisung turned to see his best friend grinning so widely it looked like his face might split in two. Despite the tension between them, Chenle’s joy was pure and infectious.

And then his eyes found you.

You weren’t shouting or jumping like the others, but the pride in your expression was unmistakable. You clapped along with the crowd, your smile warm and genuine as your gaze met his.

Jisung’s chest swelled, the mix of emotions nearly overwhelming. He stood slowly, his legs shaky, and accepted the medal from the tournament official with trembling hands. The announcer declared his name, calling him a prodigy, a champion, but none of it felt as real as the faces in the crowd—Chenle, you, and everyone who had supported him.

As the applause continued, Jisung looked back at the Tetris screen, now frozen on his record-breaking score. For the first time, he saw himself not as “just Jisung,” but as someone capable of achieving something extraordinary.

The crowd had finally begun to disperse, the cheers fading into the background as competitors and spectators alike spilled out into the night. Jisung stayed behind, lingering near the now-quiet Tetris machine. His medal hung heavy around his neck, a tangible reminder that this wasn’t just a dream.

He turned the medal over in his hands, his mind still reeling. He should have been basking in the glow of his victory, but his thoughts kept circling back to you. How your smile had stood out even among the applause. How your quiet presence had kept him grounded.

“Jisung?”

Your voice startled him, and he looked up to see you standing a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket. The faint hum of the arcade machines illuminated your face in soft, flickering light.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stepped closer, your gaze falling on the medal around his neck. “Congratulations,” you said, your smile warm but understated, as though you understood he wasn’t one for grand celebrations. “You were incredible out there.”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks. I… I still can’t believe it.”

“You should,” you replied, your tone gentle but firm. “You worked so hard for this. You deserve it.”

The sincerity in your voice sent a wave of emotion through him, and he found himself meeting your eyes. For a moment, everything else fell away. The noise of the arcade, the lingering spectators, even Chenle.

“It means a lot,” he murmured, “that you were here.”

You smiled softly, stepping even closer. “Of course I was. I wasn’t going to miss this. You’re… special, Jisung. You have something really rare. Not just your talent, but the way you put your heart into everything you do.”

Your words hit him like a gentle but powerful wave, and for the first time, Jisung felt like you saw him, not as Chenle’s shy best friend, not as the Tetris Wizard, but as him.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he reached up and touched the medal lightly, as if offering it to you.

“This… it’s not just mine,” he said quietly. “You helped me get here. You believed in me when I didn’t.”

You shook your head, your smile deepening. “That was all you, Jisung. I just… reminded you what you already knew.”

The air between you shifted, the unspoken feelings thickening the silence. It wasn’t the boisterous, high-energy dynamic you had with Chenle. It was quieter, steadier, like a river carving its way through stone.

You reached out then, your fingers brushing his lightly as you adjusted the medal around his neck. The small, intimate gesture sent his heart racing, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re going to do even greater things,” you said softly, your voice carrying a certainty that made his chest ache.

For a fleeting moment, Jisung thought about telling you everything. Telling you how much he cared for you, and how much this moment meant to him. But he stopped himself, the memory of Chenle’s unwavering cheers still fresh in his mind.

Instead, he held your gaze and said, “Thanks. For… everything.”

Your smile lingered as you stepped back, leaving a small but undeniable space between you. “You’ve got this, Jisung. Don’t forget that.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, the warmth of your touch still buzzing on his skin.

Jisung let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his hands brushing the medal around his neck. His feelings for you weren’t just a crush. They were something deeper, something that scared and exhilarated him in equal measure.

But for now, he would hold onto the moment, replaying your words in his mind like his favorite song.

As you disappeared into the crowd, Jisung stayed rooted to the spot, the medal’s weight now feeling symbolic of something much heavier. His fingers grazed the cool metal, his thoughts swirling in an uncontrollable storm.

He should have felt elated, on top of the world. And part of him did. But the other part felt like he was standing on the edge of something far scarier than any Tetris grid.

She believes in me. She sees me.

The thought filled him with a quiet joy, but it was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Chenle had been there too, cheering the loudest, always his most loyal supporter. And Chenle was your boyfriend.

Jisung closed his eyes, trying to silence the war inside him. How could he feel this way about you while knowing it wasn’t his place? He’d spent years being the guy who didn’t take up space, who stayed on the sidelines, who let others shine. Was it selfish to want something or someone so badly now?

“Hey, champ.”

The voice startled Jisung, jerking him out of his spiraling thoughts. He turned to see the familiar figure of Sicheng standing a few feet away.

“I, uh…” Jisung stammered, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Didn’t know you were still here.”

Sicheng shrugged, “Yeah, well, figured I’d stick around and see how the hero handles his post-victory glow. Looks like you’re more ‘existential crisis’ than ‘glow,’ though.”

Jisung blinked, unsure whether to laugh or deny it. “It’s… complicated,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping.

Sicheng nodded as if he understood completely. “Love and Tetris, man. Both are way harder than they look.”

Jisung couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him, the tension in his chest easing just a little. “I didn’t say it was about that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Sicheng grinned, leaning against a nearby arcade machine. “You’ve got that look. You know, the one that says, ‘I’m hopelessly in love and it’s ruining my life.’”

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone as wise and experienced as me,” Sicheng said, his tone deadpan.

Jisung peeked at him through his fingers. “What would you do, then? If you were me?”

Sicheng tilted his head thoughtfully, “I’d probably mess it up completely, to be honest. But here’s the thing—you’re not me. You’ve already done the hard part. You put yourself out there tonight. You faced something scary and came out on top. Maybe it’s time you do the same with… other things.”

Jisung frowned, the words sinking in. “But what if it goes wrong? What if I lose what I already have?”

Sicheng shrugged. “Maybe you will. Or maybe you won’t. But if you keep letting fear decide everything, you’re just gonna stay stuck at the start screen forever. And trust me, that’s no way to play.”

Jisung stared at him, the simplicity of his words somehow cutting through the noise in his head. “You’re… surprisingly good at this,” he said, half-joking.

“I have my moments.” Sicheng smirked, pushing himself off the arcade machine. “Anyway, I’m out. Congrats again, champ. And, uh, good luck with… whatever you decide.”

As Sicheng walked off, Jisung found himself standing a little straighter. The stranger’s words had left him with no concrete answers, but maybe that was the point.

Jisung glanced down at the medal one last time before tucking it under his shirt. For now, he’d focus on the present. The victory he’d earned and the path it was opening up.

But deep down, he knew that the harder game was just beginning.

Jisung didn’t see Chenle after the championship that night. 

The victory should have been enough. It was everything he’d worked for, proof that he wasn’t just the quiet kid in the background. But his mind kept circling back to you—your smile, your words, the warmth in your eyes that seemed to see right through his fears.

Why does it feel like this isn’t enough?

Jisung sighed, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. He thought about Chenle. The guilt gnawed at him. Chenle had cheered for him louder than anyone, had believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself. And yet, every time Jisung saw you two together, it felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away. This isn’t fair to Chenle. He deserves better than this.

But the memory of your touch, the way your voice softened when you spoke to him, was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just a crush. It was something deeper, something that made him feel seen in a way he never had before.

“Hey, Wiz.”

Jisung jumped at the voice, turning to see Chenle standing behind him. His best friend’s grin was still as bright as ever, but there was something different in his eyes, something quieter, more serious.

“Oh, hey,” Jisung mumbled, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions on his face. “What’s up?”

Chenle didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gestured toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

Jisung’s stomach sank, but he nodded, following Chenle out into the cool night air. The buzz of the arcade faded behind them as they walked a short distance to a nearby bench. Chenle flopped down first, his usual energy replaced by a rare stillness.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jisung fidgeted with the edge of his medal ribbon, waiting for Chenle to break the silence.

“I saw you,” Chenle finally said, his voice unusually calm.

Jisung froze, his heart lurching in his chest. “Saw me?” he echoed, his voice tight.

Chenle leaned back, his gaze fixed on the starry sky. “You and her. After the tournament.”

Jisung’s throat went dry. “I—Chenle, it’s not what you think—”

Chenle cut him off with a small, tired laugh. “Relax, dude. I’m not mad. And I know you wouldn’t do anything. You’re too much of a pussy to make the first move.” He turned to look at Jisung, his expression softer than Jisung expected. “I mean, yeah, it stings a little. But I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

Jisung blinked, confused. “Thinking about what?”

Chenle sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About us….me and her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s great. But... I don’t think we’re great together, you know? We’re fun, we laugh a lot, but it’s not... deep.”

Jisung stared at him, struggling to process the words.

“And then I see the way you look at her,” Chenle continued, his voice quieter now. “And the way she looks at you.” He let out another soft laugh. “I’d have to be blind not to notice it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jisung blurted out, his guilt spilling over. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear, I tried not to—”

“Hey, stop.” Chenle held up a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not mad, okay? It’s not like you did this on purpose. Feelings are... messy. Trust me, I get it.”

Jisung’s shoulders slumped, the weight of Chenle’s understanding both a relief and a fresh wave of guilt. “So... what does this mean?” he asked hesitantly.

Chenle shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It means I’m stepping back. You two have something real, Jisung. Something I don’t think I could ever have with her.”

Jisung stared at him, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?”

Chenle nodded. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ll probably be a little salty about it for a while. But at the end of the day, you’re my best friend. I want you to be happy.” He clapped Jisung on the shoulder, his grin returning in full force. “And who knows? Maybe this means I’ll finally have time to beat your high score.”

Jisung let out a breathless laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Thanks, Chenle. For everything.”

Chenle stood, stretching dramatically. “Don’t get all mushy on me now. Just... don’t mess it up, okay? She’s too good for that.”

Jisung nodded, his heart lighter but still full. As Chenle walked away, Jisung sat for a moment longer, staring at the medal in his hands.

Jisung’s heart pounded like it had during the tournament, maybe even harder. He clutched the edges of the medal still hanging around his neck, his thumb running along the engraved letters as if they could grant him the courage he desperately needed.

He found you sitting at the counter in Pixel Haven, a quiet lull settling over the arcade now that the evening rush was over. You were tinkering with a small machine part, your brow furrowed in concentration, and Jisung couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten at the sight.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the arcade lights.

You looked up, surprised but smiling as soon as you saw him. “Jisung! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your big win?”

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I needed to talk to you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

You set the part down, giving him your full attention. “Is everything okay?”

Jisung nodded, but the lump in his throat made it hard to speak. He took a deep breath, the memory of Chenle’s words earlier that night giving him the final push.

“I—there’s something I need to say. And I don’t know if it’s the right time, or if I’m even allowed to feel this way, but I can’t... I can’t keep it in anymore.” He paused, his hands gripping the medal tightly. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now. And I know Chenle’s your boyfriend. Well, was—but I had to tell you.”

Your eyes softened, and you stood, closing the space between you. “Jisung…”

“I’m sorry if this is too much,” he continued quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “I just... you mean a lot to me. More than I can explain. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just—”

“Jisung.” Your voice was steady but gentle, cutting through his nervous rambling.

He stopped, his breath hitching as you placed a hand on his arm.

“I like you too.”

For a moment, the words didn’t register. He blinked at you, his mind struggling to catch up. “You... you do?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re kind, thoughtful, and ridiculously talented. And more than that, you have this quiet strength that I admire so much. I’ve been drawn to you for a while now, even when I didn’t fully realize it.”

Jisung’s cheeks flushed, his heart soaring as your words sank in. “Really?”

“Really,” you said, your smile widening. “But we’ll have to take things slow. This is all new, and I want to make sure we’re both ready.”

Jisung nodded quickly, his nervous energy giving way to a shy grin. “Of course. Slow is good.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet arcade. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Jisung’s blush deepened, but for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to hide it.

As the two of you stood there, the arcade lights casting a warm glow, Jisung felt something shift inside him. It wasn’t just the joy of hearing you say you liked him too. He’d taken a risk and won.

And this victory? It felt like the best one yet.

This was it.

The moment he’d worked toward for months.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, “Park Jisung is on the verge of breaking the world record for highest Tetris score! Can he do it?”

Jisung’s heart thundered in his chest, but it wasn’t fear anymore. It was adrenaline. Focus. Determination.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of you and Chenle in the crowd. You were leaning forward, your hands clasped tightly in anticipation, your eyes shining with pride. Beside you, Chenle was shouting encouragement so loudly it drowned out the rest of the noise.

“Come on, Wizard!” Chenle yelled, his grin so wide it could’ve split his face. “You’ve got this! Show ‘em how it’s done!”

Jisung’s lips twitched into a small smile. Chenle’s voice, your presence, the energy of everyone around him, all pushed him forward.

The final minutes were a blur of movement and sound. The blocks sped up to an almost impossible level, but Jisung’s hands didn’t falter. His brain worked in overdrive, every decision precise and calculated. He could feel the rhythm of the game in his bones.

And then, with one last perfect Tetris, the machine let out a triumphant chime.

The words NEW WORLD RECORD! flashed across the screen, and for a moment, the room seemed to freeze.

Then the crowd erupted. Cheers and applause filled the arcade, the sound almost deafening. Jisung sat back, his hands trembling as he let out a shaky breath. He’d done it.

You were the first to reach him, weaving through the crowd with your face lit up in a beaming smile. “Jisung, you did it!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

For a moment, he froze, still overwhelmed by everything, but then he relaxed into the hug, his face flushing as a shy grin spread across his lips. “I... I guess I did.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still on his arms. “No, Jisung. You didn’t just do it. You literally broke a world record. That was fucking incredible.”

Before Jisung could respond, Chenle burst through the crowd, practically tackling him with a clap on the back. “That was insane, dude! You’re officially a legend!”

Jisung laughed softly, his nerves easing as the weight of his friends’ support sank in. “Thanks, Chenle. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Chenle scoffed, his grin turning playful. “Obviously. I mean, who else would’ve dragged your sorry butt to the arcade every week?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too. “And who else would’ve cheered louder than the announcer himself?”

Chenle puffed out his chest dramatically. “It’s called dedication. But seriously, man.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to something softer. “I’m proud of you. I always knew you had it in you.”

Jisung blinked, his throat tightening with emotion. “Thanks, Chenle. That... that means a lot.”

“And me,” you added, your gaze locking with Jisung’s. “You’ve worked so hard for this, Jisung. You deserve every bit of it.”

Jisung’s face burned, but he managed a small, grateful smile. “I... I couldn’t have done it without you either. Both of you.”

Chenle grinned, clapping Jisung on the back again. “Okay, enough sap. Let’s go celebrate! First round of drinks are on me!”

“Chenle, you’ve never paid for drinks in your life,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Today’s a special occasion!” Chenle shot back, already heading toward the counter. “Besides, I’ll just borrow some cash from Jisung’s prize money.”

Jisung chuckled, the sound lighter than it had been in months. He looked between you and Chenle, his chest tightening with a strange mix of gratitude and joy.

In this moment, he realized that no matter how far he went. No matter how high he climbed in the Tetris world. He wouldn’t be alone.

He had Chenle, his loud, chaotic best friend who always believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. And he had you, the person who saw him, really saw him, and made him feel like he could be more than just the quiet kid in the background.

For the first time, Jisung felt like he wasn’t just playing to win. He was playing for the people who mattered most.'

Though it stung at first, Chenle proved himself to be the supportive and selfless friend Jisung had always known. It didn’t take long for him to bounce back—literally. A chance meeting at a K-TV bar introduced him to a bubbly, energetic girl named Yizhuo, whose laughter was as infectious as his own. Their chemistry was instant, and soon Chenle was filling the arcade with stories of his new escapades. He still teased Jisung relentlessly, but it was clear he harbored no ill will.

The trio’s bond remained intact, stronger than ever, though their lives began to diverge.

Jisung, now a bona fide legend in the gaming world, found himself swept into a whirlwind of tournaments, sponsorships, and interviews. Though he remained shy and soft-spoken, his quiet charisma and undeniable skill won over fans around the globe. He still made time to visit Pixel Haven, the arcade that had started it all, but his visits were less frequent now, as his journey took him to stages he’d only dreamed of.

You, on the other hand, had left Pixel Haven behind for a new chapter of your own. Inspired by the energy and community of the arcade, you decided to pursue a career in game design. Late nights were now spent sketching out ideas for games that combined strategy and storytelling, with a little bit of heart and soul, something you’d learned was just as important as the mechanics.

Jisung was your biggest cheerleader, always eager to hear about your latest ideas, even if his input sometimes boiled down to, “As long as it’s not as stressful as Tetris.”

Chenle, ever the social butterfly, had shifted his focus to broadcasting. His infectious personality made him a hit on television screens, where he’d commentate on retro games, pull off absurd challenges, and occasionally rope Jisung into appearances. “The TetWiz and Lele Show,” he called it, though Jisung mostly just sat there, looking flustered as Chenle stole the spotlight.

Still, every once in a while, the three of you would reunite at Pixel Haven, now under new management but still holding its nostalgic charm. You’d share snacks, reminisce about the good old days, and maybe even challenge each other to a game or two—though no one dared to take on Jisung in Tetris.

And as Jisung watched you and Chenle laughing over some ridiculous bet, the soft glow of the arcade lights reflecting in your eyes, he realized that life was a lot like Tetris. The pieces didn’t always fall the way you wanted them to, but with patience, a little bit of courage, and the right people by your side, you could make something beautiful out of the chaos.

GAME OVER.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[kaleldobrev]

Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that. 

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Across Every Universe

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff 

Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.

Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.

That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.

He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.

Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.

“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.

“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”

“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”

“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”

“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.

“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”

“My hero.”

You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.

He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.

“So, did you tell her how you feel?”

“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”

“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”

“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”

Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.

The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m doing alright but not any better.”

“Did you take your medicine?”

“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”

“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.

Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.

“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.

“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”

Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”

“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”

“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”

“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.

He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.

“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”

“Y/N?”

“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.

They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.

“She kissed me, dude.”

“What?”

“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”

“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”

Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.

“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”

Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.

Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.

“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”

“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”

“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”

“How?” he whispers.

You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.

You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.

Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.

“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we just lay here instead?”

“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”

You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”

“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.

“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”

Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.

“We’re married?”

“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just… really happy.”

You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.

“Hey,” Dean sighs.

“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”

“What if we didn’t leave?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The love of my life is my wife here.”

“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”

Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”

“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”

And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.

The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.

“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”

“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”

“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.

“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.

This is where he belongs. Right next to you.

x

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[dancewithdeath11]

Confidence

Pairing: Tyler Owens X Reader

Summary: Who ever knew a cocky tornado wrangler like Tyler Owens would fall so far..

Warnings: If you’ve seen that one chair scene with Jensen Ackles in Devour.. Then yes. 18+ Smut (Kinda? Lost motivation but I just wanted to finish it. not proud of it but idgaf) riding, petnames, hair pulling, no finish in sight but lets imagine they do together.

Word count: short and sweet, I’m not fucking counting.

======

“Darlin’, baby- please..” 

Never in a million years did you think you’d hear such a needy whine leave the lips of Tyler Owens. But here he was. His hands eagerly brush along your skin, not being able to decide where to grip. Little whimpers fell from his lips as his face screwed up in ecstasy. His head fell back against the seat as you rode him mercilessly in the back seat of his truck. 

You were just as eager. Hands gripping his neck and tugging him back towards reality. Back to you. Greedily wanting him to not check out, to give you attention. Not letting him completely drown just yet. Fingers digging into his hair as you guided his mouth to your neck, he complied and mouthed at your throat. Sloppy, wet, half focused as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin. 

A dumb smile spreads on your lips as you grind and bounce on his aching cock. Your thighs burning with the effort, your knee digging into the buckle by his hip. But fuck…he felt so good. And he sounded better. Hell, he was more vocal than you at this point.

You’d danced around having sex for months by now. Little drunken bar makeouts, a heated kiss after a close call. But that was it. 

Till now. You finally took the initiative after he seemed like he was going to pull away again. Now here you two are. Working things out.

Hot pants leaving both your lips, hotter hands exploring exposed skin for the first time. Discovering then taking advantage of each other's weaknesses, trying to see how fast the other would crumble. Like if you slowed down, he’d whine more. And it was so satisfying as you did just that. Slowing to a languid grind on his lap, feeling the scratch of his zipper on your ass as you let out a sigh. 

He whimpered and gripped your hips tighter, “Fuck, fuck-”

“C’mon baby, speak up…” You whispered to him. He pulled away and looked up at you with an almost pained, dazed expression. Hands come up to cup his face, getting him to focus on you. Not that he could focus on anything else anyways. Bringing a hand up to card through your hair, a confident smirk on your lips as you got him to meet your eyes. His green eyes were brimmed with tears. God, he looked wrecked. “What happened to all that confidence, cowboy?”

[starboye]

pairing: jensen ackles x male reader

request: Could i request a Jensen Ackles x Male Reader; Where the reader is the personal assistant of Jensen, and for the past few weeks, Jensen has been more angry and gets pissed off easily. When reader overhears Jensen talking about maybe finding a new assistant, he realizes that his job is at stake and doesn't want to be away from his crush, so he decides to please Jensen in anyway possible. For weeks reader works overtime to do anything for Jensen, without any change, but one night, while picking up a half-drunk Jensen, he gets to know that Jensen is going through a divorce and needs someone to meet his bedroom needs. Reader jumps at the opportunity, and "sacrifices" himself to be Jensens personal whore.

warnings: SMUT, rough sex, degradtion, face slapping, cum denial, choking if you squint, kinda cheating, breeding, unprotected sex, daddy kink, pet names, bondage if you kinda look really hard, and something else

words: 1.9k

working for mr.ackles was no easy task, between his random rage outbursts, the overwhelming work, and the back aching overtime you were doing for him it was all to much but you stuck through the job if it meant that you got to see that fine ass man every day, you'd do anything for him, waiting hands and knees for his every order like a good boy.

if we're being real sometimes you'd stay up at night fucking yourself with a dildo imagining it was jensen fucking you with his thick cock as you moaned out his name but every morning you woke up to the same reality, and it was even more nerve racking when you over heard mr.ackles talking about firing you because you had been slacking off.

so the only logical thing you could do is start working overtime hoping that would be enough, night after night you stayed after hours helping him do work and try to take some of the stress off him but that was barely working so you had to find another way to keep your job and the lord must have heard your prayers.

the night you were working and getting stuff organized for mr.ackle you got a call from the local bar saying jensen said to call you since he got to drunk to drive home, you immediately hopped in your car and drove to the bar hoping he was okay, you pull up to the bar to see jensen sitting on the curb.

"mr.ackles are you okay" you ask lifting him up "yeah im... im fine" he slurs his words a bit due to the alcohol but you nonetheless get him in the car and soon begin driving "why didn't you call your wife sir" you question glancing at him to make sure he's okay "fuck that bitch" he curses "what do you mean" you ask with eyebrows furrowed "we're going through a tough situation right now it's nothing" he says.

you wanted to be civil about it but on the inside you were dancing with joy that that bitch- i mean his wife wasn't doing so well in the relationship "and i haven't been able to get off in weeks" jensen admits in his drunken state not even realizing what he said which gives you an idea.

"well if you ever need anything i'm here for you" you softly say moving your hand to rub jensens thigh, you see a slight tent rise in his pants "mmm y/n" jensen strains, feeling your hand rub on his thigh is the most contact he's gotten from someone in weeks "yes mr.ackles" you innocently say as if you didn't plan this all in a matter of seconds "fuck" jensen mutters under his breath trying to resist the urges too have your hand wrapped around his dick.

"oh my god are you okay mr.ackles" you ask faking any concern and pulling the car over to the curb before turning attention to him "will you..." he says but is to embarrassed to get the words out so he just moves your hand closer to the tent in his pants "oh no mr.ackles i couldn't do that" you keep up your innocent facade to reel jensen in further.

"cut the shit, i see the way you look at me during work and i know you've jerked off to the thought to me fucking you open every night, and shut up with the mr.ackles shit and call me jensen now are you gonna ride my dick or not" jensen snaps at you making you almost whimper at his agression "yes sir" you say stripping down to nothing, jenson taking off his pants and underwear along with his shirt.

you straddle his lap, and take his dick into your hand, stroking it slowly as you hold eye contact with him "yeah baby just like that" jensen breaths before pulling you into messily make out, his breath reeked of booze but you pushed through, fueled with the thought of finally being able to ride your boss.

"now ride me like the good little slut you are" jensen smirks as you shakily lift over him "c'mon you gotta have lube in here somewhere" he says rummaging through you car before finding a half empty bottle of lube in your glove box "half empty, you must get fucked a lot" jensen says before putting some on his fingers and smearing it on his dick and then on your hole and throwing the bottle in the backseat.

you lower yourself onto his dick slowly making jensen more and more frustrated "come on slut i dont got all night" he says grabbing your waist to push you all the way down on his cock, you moan out loudly "now doesn't that feel so much better, my dick all nuzzled in your hole" he says, his voice slick with cockiness, you look down to see the outline of his dick in your stomach making you whimper at the sight.

"yeah that's me in you, gonna ruin you from the inside and out" jensen says with a sick smile as he poke at the bulge and begin lifting and dropping you on his length over and over "jen- fuck... jensen" you whine "what" he asks, his attention set on the way you take his cock "slow down please" you ask throwing your head back.

"come on i thought this was your fantasy, to be getting your ass split by your bosses dick, you can take it" jensen says not stopping his motion into you "it's to big" you whimper feeling it spread and hit parts of you your dildo couldn't even get "well then do it for the sake of your job, if you can ride me till i cum then you keep your job, if you don't you're fired and you don't get to taste this sweet dick ever again" jensen smirked st your now scared expression.

he was putting your job on the line, but i mean you asked for this when you made advances towards him so now you have to get him to cum to keep this job and your boss "y-yes sir" you stutter lifting yourself off his cock and lowering onto him, his hands still holding your hips for support "mhm just like that, fuck yourself on daddys dick" jensen groans.

"you take me better than my wife ever did, that whiny bitch could barely take the tip but you... you can take all of me with no problem" he says thrusting upward into you a little "thank you daddy" you whine, feeling your knees go weak as you continue riding, you move you hand to your aching dick and start jerking off.

"ah ah who said you could jerk off" jensen tuts holding your hands behind your back with his own and slapping your ass "but i need to cum" you beg "looks like im gonna have to punish your slutty ass" jensen says and you feel your heart drop to your stomach knowing he wasn't gonna be light.

jensen wraps his hand around your throat and forces you too look at him while his other hand holds your hands in place before he begins thrusting up into you, the plaps filling the car as the windows become foggy from the sweat in the car, you moan out into the car as jensen assaults your hole brutally "daddy" you moan out at every drop.

"yeah you love the way i fuck you right, wanna feel this dick every day" jensen spits out roughly as his eyes fill with lust and hunger, you nod at his question "mhm" you whimper lowly tightening your hole around him "want my kids deep in your stomach huh" jensen asks "wanna make me a new daddy, walk around my house filled and good" and you moan at the mere thought of you getting fucked by him every day.

"yes daddy please fill me up with your cum, i want you in me all the time" you moan "im gonna fucking ruin your ass and make it all sloppy so no other guy can fuck you" jensen says through gritted teeth, and just right there you cum all over his chest, you look down at him with fear written in your eyes "please daddy im so so sorry i didn't mean to cum" you try to apologize but its to late "cumming when i didn't say you could, not only are you a whore but you're a disobedient whore" jensen says with a smirk.

jensen moves his hand from your throat and your head drops as his hand moves to slap your ass "count how many times i slap your ass okay" jensen says and you nod without a single thought in your mind from being fucked dumb, one slap on your ass "one" you weakly say and another "two and another "three" and another till you couldn't even remember what number you were on "which one was that y/n" jensen asks still fucking into your sloppy hole "five" you answer "wrong answer" he says and you could feel him go harder.

"so fucking dumb all over my dick, not a single thought behind those eyes you just wanna please me" jensen says noticing you almost faint "hey stay with awake we're not done yet" jensen says slapping you and grabbing you by the chin to lift your head, you couldn't even make out what was happening, everything was molding together and words were just sound in the back of your mind.

jensen had been abusing your hole for about an hour now and you were just praying that he'd cum and give you some rest, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you up, you tried to speak but the words would just be babbles "speak clearly for me baby" jensen would taunt watching you get dumber and dumber.

"you want daddy to cum in you, fill you up with his big dick" jensen asks in a teasing voice, you nod desperately at the question "okay then" jensen says taking his other hands from around your wrists and moving it to hold you waist still, he fucks up into you roughly making you see stars at this point, you couldn't even make out what was real or just apart of your imagination.

but that didn't matter as you felt the sweet feeling of relief wash over you as jensen came in you, you could feel your stomach getting more full as his cumm filled you "yeah take it take it all" jensen grunts still fucking you to ride out his high and push his cum further in you "does this mean i keep my job daddy" you ask weakly "yeah i gotta keep you around for this good hole" jensen mutters lifting you off his messy dick, the cum dripping from your loose hole.

jensen put you in the backseat and get in the drivers seat and drove you to the office because he didn't know where you lived and when he tried to ask you you'd reply with some unknown whines, you woke up to the sight of jensen working at his desk and you were in his over sized clothes "go home and wash up then come right back" jensen demanded like he didn't fuck you unconscious last night, but trust after that day you were his cum dump, he dumped load after load into you, and when he was mad you knew you were gonna get some good dick that day.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat

[lila-lou]

✨Stubborn Heat✨

Summary: Jensen is exhausted and coming down with a fever during a busy convention, but his stubbornness won’t let him rest—not until he’s had his way with you.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, language

Word Count: 4458

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As Jensen walks into the green room, his eyes are heavy and slightly red. He sniffs a few times, texting you to inquire about your whereabouts. But before he can send his messages, you return from the toilet. The two of you are alone, since everyone else is occupied giving autographs or on stage. Jensen doesn’t look particularly good right now.

"Hey", you say softly, noticing the fatigue in his eyes.

"Hey", Jensen replies, his voice sounding tired. "I thought you might've gotten lost".

You give him a sympathetic smile. "Nope, just had to pee".

Jensen nods, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes. It's your first convention together, and despite being officially together for a year now, it's been a rough journey since his divorce from Danneel became official six months ago. The weight of the past still lingers between you, adding an extra layer of complexity to your relationship.

As Jensen lets himself plop down on the couch, he holds out his hand, signaling for you to sit with him. His forehead rests on his palm, and you can tell he's really tired. You take a seat next to him, feeling the weight of his exhaustion.

Gently, he wraps his big arms around you, pulling you close against him. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. Despite the fatigue and the challenges you've faced together, being in each other's arms feels like home.

"You okay?", you ask softly, running your fingers through his hair.

"Yeah", he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "Just… tired".

You nod in understanding, offering him silent support as you hold each other in the quiet of the green room.

As Jensen holds you close, you mumble softly, "You really don't look okay, Jay".

He lets out a weary chuckle, but it lacks its usual warmth. "Just a long day, baby. Nothing I can't handle".

You're not convinced, though. Carefully, you place your palm against his forehead. It's a bit warm, but not alarmingly so. Still, concern flickers in your eyes as you gaze at him.

"I think you might be coming down with something", you remark, furrowing your brow.

Jensen lets out another sniff, and you can tell he's trying to brush off your concern. "I'm fine, really. Just need some rest".

But you know him well enough to recognize when he's pushing himself too hard.

You had about 15 minutes until Jensen went back on stage. You stand next to a security guard, not wanting to disturb either the fans or Jared and Jensen on stage. From your vantage point, you watch Jensen plaster on a smile for the audience. Despite his fatigue, he's a professional, and he knows how to put on a show for his fans.

As he interacts with the audience, answering questions and sharing anecdotes, you can't help but admire his dedication. But behind the façade, you can still see the weariness in his eyes, the slight slump in his posture.

As the panel goes on, Jensen's voice cracks slightly now and then, but he overplays it perfectly, making it seem like part of his natural charm. The fans are none the wiser, laughing and cheering along with his jokes.

Once the panel ends, Jensen barely has a moment to catch his breath before he has to head to the photo op. The schedule is running a bit behind, leaving him with no opportunity to see you or take a little break. You can see the annoyance etched on his face as he rushes past you, giving you a quick, apologetic glance.

You manage to catch his hand for a brief moment. "Hang in there", you whisper, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

He nods, a tired but grateful smile flickering across his face. "I will. See you soon".

As Jensen moves towards the photo op area, you watch him summon the energy to engage with the fans, each smile and pose a testament to his professionalism. Yet, you can't shake the worry gnawing at you, knowing he desperately needs a moment to rest and recuperate. You resolve to be there for him as soon as his commitments allow, ready to offer the comfort and support he needs.

It was about 8 in the evening when Jensen finally entered the green room with the rest of his colleagues. He looked even more tired than before, dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders slumped. You could see the exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

Without even giving you a glance, he grumbled a simple, “Let’s go”.

You felt a pang of concern but nodded, gathering your things quickly.

While Jensen gave the fans one last smile and wave, you walked more between the bodyguards and assistants than beside him, since the two of you wanted to keep your attendance this weekend low-key. The crowd’s cheers and flashes of cameras felt distant as you made your way through the throng of people.

As you reached the exit, Jensen finally turned to you, his eyes softening slightly. “Sorry for being grumpy”, he murmured, his voice barely audible over the noise.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. Let’s just get you home”.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet. Jensen leaned his head against the window, eyes closed, as if savoring the brief respite.

When you finally arrived at the hotel, you guided Jensen to your room, helping him out of his jacket and shoes. He collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh, clearly relieved to be away from the chaos.

You knew he didn’t want to be grumpy with you, but you couldn’t hide your disappointment about today. It was your first convention being the new girl at his side, and you saw him less than the fans did. And then he gave you the grumpiness while the fans got the smiles and charm.

As you moved around the room, tidying up and getting things ready for the night, you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. You understood the demands of his job, but it didn’t make it any easier to handle the disconnect.

Jensen, sensing your unease, opened his eyes and looked at you. “Hey”, he said softly. “I know today was rough. I’m sorry I took it out on you”.

You paused, turning to face him. “I know you’re tired, Jensen. I just… I guess I hoped we’d get to spend a bit more time together. It’s hard seeing you give everything to everyone else and having nothing left for us”.

He sighed deeply, sitting up slightly.

With a soft sigh, you felt a pang of guilt for expressing your frustrations. You knew Jensen's heart was in the right place, even if his actions sometimes fell short of your expectations.

Suddenly, Jensen's expression softened, and he reached out his hand to you. "C'mere", he said softly, waving to himself lazily.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should accept his invitation. But his warm gaze melted away your reservations, and you slowly walked towards him, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation.

As you reached him, Jensen pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Finally being close to him again, you nestled into his embrace, feeling the tension melt away.

With his arms tight around your waist, Jensen's lips brushed against your jaw and ear, his murmurs sending shivers down your spine. "You know, sweetheart", he whispered, "there's something special I've been saving just for you. How would you like it if I showed you something that only you're allowed to get from me?".

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, anticipation coursing through your veins. "I'd love that", you whispered back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Jensen smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously as he pulled himself away slightly.

"How about", he murmured, his voice low and husky, "you get out of that little dress of yours?".

A flush spread across your cheeks at his suggestion, but excitement bubbled in your chest. With a coy smile, you leaned in closer, letting your fingers trace lightly along the collar of his shirt.

"Only if you promise to make it worth my while", you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen's grin widened, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. "Oh, sweetheart, I'll make it more than worth your while", he replied, his voice laced with promise.

You pulled your dress over your head, revealing nothing underneath but a delicate lace thong. Jensen's breath caught in his throat as he watched, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with hunger.

A deep groan escaped his lips as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples, the desire in his eyes intensifying. Without a word, he reached out to pull you close, his hands trailing along the curves of your body as he kissed you hungrily.

With a sense of urgency, you gently pushed Jensen farther towards the headpiece of the bed, determined to take care of him. As you started to unbutton his dress shirt, Jensen watched you with heavy-lidded eyes, a mixture of desire and exhaustion swirling in their depths.

But as your fingers brushed against his skin, you couldn’t ignore the heat radiating from his body. His chest practically glowed underneath your fingertips, and you could feel the fever simmering beneath the surface.

Despite his efforts to overplay it, Jensen was definitely sick. The realization sent a pang of worry through you.

Jensen sensing your hesitation, rolled his eyes and growled softly, a mix of frustration and determination crossing his features. In one swift move, he turned you over, overplaying the dizziness that accompanied the motion. Now, he hovered above you, his hardness pressing insistently against your still-covered core.

“Jensen, you’re not well”, you demanded, concern lacing your voice.

His eyes darkened with a mixture of defiance and desire as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fucking show you how pretty well I am”, he mumbled, his voice rough but full of intent.

Despite the heat radiating from his fevered body, his hands moved with practiced ease, sliding down your sides, eliciting shivers of anticipation. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment, a mix of passion and worry intertwining as Jensen sought to prove his strength and you struggled to temper your concern.

With a soft sigh, you stopped resisting, knowing exactly that Jensen would get his way like always. You were putty in his hands, and he knew it. The moment your resistance melted away, Jensen's lips found their way to your jaw, kissing it down to your neck.

His touch was both urgent and tender, each kiss sending shivers down your spine. As he continued his trail of kisses, his hands roamed over your body, heightening your senses and deepening your desire.

"That's it", he murmured against your skin, his voice a mix of satisfaction and raw need. "Just let go, baby".

You arched into him, your body responding to his every touch. Despite the worry gnawing at the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the electricity between you, the way he made you feel like no one else could.

Jensen's hands slid down to your thong, his fingers hooking under the delicate fabric and slowly pulling it down. The anticipation built with every movement, your breath coming faster as you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours.

"Jay", you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of need and concern. "Promise me you'll rest after this".

He paused, lifting his head to look into your eyes. The fevered intensity in his gaze softened slightly, replaced by a glimmer of affection. "I promise", he replied, his voice sincere. "But right now, I need you".

His words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, and you reached up to pull him closer, your lips meeting in a searing kiss.

Shortly after, you pushed him back, forcing him to sit on the bed, and crawled above him, your movements deliberate and commanding. His eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and anticipation reflecting in their depths.

“We’re doing it my way, then”, you ordered, your voice firm yet sultry. “Meaning I do the work”.

Jensen’s breath hitched as he watched you take control. You reached for his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. The sound of the leather sliding through the loops filled the room, adding to the tension building between you.

His hands rested on your hips, his grip firm but allowing you to take the lead. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his fevered state only heightening the urgency of the moment.

With his belt undone, you moved to unbutton his jeans, your hands brushing against the hard outline of his arousal. Jensen let out a low moan, his head falling back slightly as he watched you with heavy-lidded eyes.

Jensen tried hard to focus, but his sickness clouded his mind. Still, as you undressed him, his erection stood hard and proud, showing his desire.

Despite his fever, Jensen responded eagerly to your touch.

You gave him a few pumps, feeling his hardness pulse beneath your touch. Then, you straddled his lap, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you. With his head resting against the headpiece of the bed, Jensen watched your every move.

With a knowing smile, Jensen brushed his thumb over your lips. Without hesitation, you eagerly licked his thumb, coating it with saliva.

He then brought his wet thumb to your clit, which was inches above his hard erection, rubbing your sensitive nub lazily. Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body.

You moaned softly. Jensen's eyes darkened with desire as he continued to tease you, his movements deliberate and tantalizing.

He grabbed the base of his dick, positioning it just at the entrance of your slick folds. With a slow, deliberate motion, he spread your arousal with the hot head of his cock, dragging it through your slick slit, up to your swollen clit.

You gasped as he teased your most sensitive spot, the friction driving you to the edge of ecstasy.

Jensen's touch was both gentle and firm, his movements expertly calculated to drive you insane. With each stroke, you felt yourself growing closer to the edge, the tension building to a fever pitch.

With a throaty voice, Jensen leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Sit".

As you obeyed his command, slowly lowering yourself onto him, you felt the familiar pang of pain as you stretched to accommodate his size. But like always, you couldn't take him completely, the fullness almost overwhelming.

Jensen's hands gripped your hips firmly, his touch both possessive and reassuring. "That's it", he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Take me, baby".

You gasped at his words, the pleasure and pain mingling together in a heady rush. With each inch that disappeared inside you, the tension in the air grew thicker.

Jensen groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest as he let his head fall back, overwhelmed by the sensation of you surrounding him. His grip on your hips tightened, almost bruising, urging you to move, but you needed a moment to ease the pain.

Feeling his urgency, you placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back onto the bed. “Give me a moment”, you whispered, your voice strained with discomfort.

Feeling your discomfort, Jensen's usually attentive nature struggled to break through the fog of his sickness. His mind was clouded, his thoughts sluggish and muddled, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than the overwhelming sensation of you surrounding him.

Usually, he would have made sure you were alright, his concern for your well-being paramount in his mind. But in that moment, his body was beyond weak, drained of energy by the fever raging within him. So instead of speaking, he simply nodded in response to your request, his eyes falling shut every now and then as he fought to keep himself present.

As you took a moment to ease the pain, Jensen let out a soft sigh, the tension in his body slowly dissipating as he allowed himself to relax. Despite the discomfort and the overwhelming fatigue that weighed heavily on him, he couldn't deny the spark of desire that still burned within him, fueled by the raw intimacy of the moment.

You started to move your hips, the slow, deliberate motion sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Your hands steadied yourself on his biceps, feeling the strength beneath your touch, while Jensen held onto your hips lazily.

As you found your rhythm, the tension in the air grew thicker, the anticipation building with each thrust. Jensen's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with yours in a heated stare.

"You feel so good", he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

You moaned in response, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming your senses. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of raw intimacy.

But as you felt the heat radiating from Jensen's body, concern gnawed at the edges of your mind. Carefully, you placed your palm against his forehead, your breath hitching as you confirmed just how hot he was.

Sensing your worry, Jensen weakly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. Before you could speak, he let out a low growl, his voice hoarse with exertion.

"Don't even fucking think about it", he demanded, his words laced with stubborn determination.

You hesitated, torn between your concern for Jensen's well-being and your desire to continue. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw the fierce resolve that burned within him, the same determination that had carried him through countless challenges before.

With a sigh, you relented, knowing that Jensen wouldn't back down until he had proven his strength.

Jensen's hips met yours with a forceful thrust, a reminder to stay present in the moment.

You winced at the depth of his thrust, feeling the pressure build within you as you struggled to maintain your balance against his chest.

"Jensen", you gasped, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming. "Easy".

But Jensen's response was a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he urged you to keep moving. "Don't stop", he demanded, his voice rough with desire. "Keep going".

While you moved your hips, Jensen leaned forward, pressing soft, heated kisses along your collarbone. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close as if he could draw strength from your connection. You could feel his breath hot and heavy against your skin, mingling with the fever sweat that dampened his forehead.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands and pulling gently, urging him to continue. With each movement, you took him in deeper, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through both of you.

"Jensen", you breathed, your voice a mixture of concern and desire, "you're burning up".

He groaned against your neck, his forehead pressing against your skin. "Don't care", he murmured, his voice strained but determined. "Need you…need this".

The raw need in his voice sent a thrill through you. You moved together, the rhythm building with each thrust, the heat between you growing more intense.

"Just…stay with me", Jensen whispered, his voice rough and filled with emotion. "Don't stop".

Your heart ached with a mixture of love and worry, but you nodded, determined to give him what he needed.

With his hot lips kissing your skin, you clenched around him, the sensation driving him deeper inside you. Goosebumps rose on your skin where his arms held you tightly, the contrast between his fevered body and your own adding to the intensity of the moment.

Your breathing grew heavier, each gasp and moan escaping your lips as you felt yourself nearing climax.

“Jensen”, you moaned, your voice filled with both desire and urgency.

Hearing his name, Jensen pressed you tighter against himself, his head still weakly buried in the crook of your neck. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin, mingling with the sweat that dampened both of your bodies. He held you as if you were his anchor, grounding him amidst the fever and exhaustion.

“Come for me”, he murmured into your neck, his voice rough and commanding despite his weakened state.

The raw need in his voice pushed you over the edge. With a final, shuddering gasp, you let go, your climax washing over you in powerful waves. Your body tightened around him, drawing a deep groan from Jensen as he felt you pulse around him.

As you reached the peak of your pleasure, your nails dug into Jensen’s shoulders, the sensation sending a jolt of pain and pleasure through him. He hissed against your neck, the sound muffled by the heat of the moment.

Feeling you clenching so tightly around him, Jensen couldn’t hold back any longer. With a throaty groan, he released deep inside you, his body tensing as he spilled himself into you.

“Fuck, Y/N”, he moaned, his voice hoarse and exhausted, his breath coming in ragged pants. He buried his face against your neck, seeking solace in the warmth of your embrace.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, lost in the aftermath of your shared release.

Jensen could barely catch his breath at the intensity of his climax and the strong dizziness that followed. His body felt even weaker now as he held onto you. With each ragged breath, he tried to regain his composure, the waves of exhaustion washing over him.

You felt his dick slowly softening inside you. With a tender touch, you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"Are you okay?", you whispered softly, concern lacing your voice.

Jensen nodded weakly, his forehead still pressed against your neck. "Yeah", he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just…need a moment".

You nodded, holding him close as you both caught your breath.

After a few seconds, you gently pushed him to lay back, brushing a tender kiss over his cheek. “I’m going to get some medicine for you”, you murmured softly, your voice filled with concern.

As you carefully got up from the bed, you moved with gentle care, not wanting to disturb him further. Making your way to the bathroom, you took a moment to clean up and pull on some clothes.

As you returned from the pharmacy, your heart sank at the sight of Jensen emerging from the bathroom, his figure clad only in boxers, still sweating and clearly exhausted. His eyes were half-open, glassy, and red, a clear sign of his illness. With a heavy sigh, you set the medicine down on the bedside table and approached him with concern etched on your face.

"Hey, Jensen", you said softly, reaching out to brush a gentle hand over his arm. "Got some medicine for you".

Jensen's eyes flickered with recognition as he glanced at you, his expression a mix of fatigue and gratitude. "Already?", he murmured, his voice hoarse and strained. He made his way back to the bed, his muscles flexing with each step.

You nodded, offering him a sympathetic smile. "Yeah", you replied gently. "Let's get you feeling better, okay? You look like you could use some rest".

With a weary nod, Jensen settled back onto the bed, his exhaustion evident in every line of his body. As you handed him the medicine and a glass of water, you couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for him. But you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on providing him with the comfort and care he needed in that moment.

After taking the medicine, Jensen leaned back, his eyes closed in a futile attempt to find some relief from his discomfort. “I feel like shit”, he grumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. A quiet cough escaped him, punctuating his words with a harsh reminder of his illness.

You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as you watched him struggle. “I know", you murmured softly.

Jensen let out a tired sigh, his frustration evident in every line of his body. “Tomorrow’s gonna be hell with the second day of the convention”, he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laid your palm carefully against his forehead again, sighing as it still felt hot to the touch.

Heading to the minibar, you grabbed a bottle of water and returned to his side. "Here, drink up", you instructed gently, holding the bottle out to him.

Jensen nodded weakly, accepting the water. He took a few sips, the cool liquid providing some relief to his parched throat.

As he drank, you quickly shed your clothes. With a soft sigh, you settled back onto the bed beside him.

As Jensen looked towards you, his gaze filled with longing, you could see the silent question in his eyes. Why wouldn't you cuddle against him? He weakly brushed his arm up the pillow, silently inviting you to slip into your usual place beside him.

Feeling a surge of warmth in your heart, you couldn't resist his silent plea. With a soft smile, you shifted closer to him, sliding into the space beside him on the bed. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close against his warm, fevered body.

With Jensen's steady heartbeat as your lullaby, you closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day finally catch up with you.

A sense of relaxation washed over him as he felt the coolness of your body against his fevered skin. Your face nestled against his chest, you wrapped one arm around his torso, seeking comfort and solace in his embrace.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to bask in the warmth and security of being in Jensen's arms. Despite his sickness and occasional grumpiness, being with him felt like coming home.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734

[anundyingfidelity]

OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

[thebiggerbear]

no one's the new me

Summary: Soldier Boy is the OG Supe. You goad him into proving it and get more than you bargained for...or did you?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: All unbeta'd. Thank you to @rieleatiel for the pre-read!

Warnings: smut; rough sex; language; implied breeding kink

Word Count: 846

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Soldier Boy Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

@muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007

@onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

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Strong hands tugged on your hair, forcing your head back and your body to arch, accommodating the brute force you were being fucked with. You could feel the aggression, the rage, that was being unleashed on you in response to your taunts earlier. Your words had been purposeful; you knew they would rile him up enough to throw caution to the wind and show you how wrong you were. It had been nearly three hours since he began teaching you to “respect your fucking elders.”

Your throat was sore, your ass bruised from hips brutally slamming into yours — plus you actually got spanked near the beginning because you were being a fucking brat — and your pussy was on fire. At least five orgasms had been out of your body so far, a new personal record for you, and yet you wouldn’t dream of stopping. Though you knew the man savagely pistoning in and out of you would, the second you said it. 

That was just another thing that drew your desire to him the second he stepped out of that tube back in Russia: the control. You’d watched in fascination as he let loose a burst of energy that knocked The Female on her ass, yet you later found out she’d been fortunate after that same energy took out city blocks and one old, washed up, backstabbing Crimson Cunt. The minute you saw him emerge from the smoking wreckage of her trailer, his suit and shield completely intact, you knew he was so much more than a weapon for Butcher and his merry band of idiots to wield against Homelander.

He was the embodiment of raw power, a purity from being the first ever Supe mixed with whatever cocktail the Russians had given him.

You certainly could feel that power, the might and god-like strength that the body slamming into yours contained. If you weren’t experiencing the best fuck of your life right then, your eyes would have rolled back into your head and you would have orgasmed from the heady knowledge of that alone. 

“Say it,” was growled menacingly into your ear.

You pressed your lips together to keep quiet. You knew that would only stoke the rage but that didn’t matter.

Fingers roughly gripped your chin and turned you to face the dark emerald gaze burning into yours, fury written all over his features. He stopped fucking you for a moment, only to deliver deep and harsh thrusts, his expression tightening with more anger the longer you refused to give in to his demand. You could feel your body starting to act of its own accord, the excitement rushing through you as fiery tingles began deep inside you, right near where he had been pummeling you a moment ago as a matter of fact. “Say it,” he commanded once more in a snarl.

The tingles radiated throughout your pelvic region and you started to feel a wave of sensations getting closer and closer to overwhelming every single inch of you. You reached up to grip his wrist, holding on tightly as your body began to shake. 

He was merciless, though. He wanted you to have learned your lesson. “Fucking say it.”

“No one…” You struggled to get out the words, to keep eye contact even; the feelings overtaking your body were that intense. You let out an exhalation of a sound you had never made before. “No one’s the new you,” you panted, your jaw dropping in a silent cry as that wave became like wildfire, consuming you rapidly, your fingers finding purchase in his forearm.

A shark-like smile slowly spread across Soldier Boy’s face as he watched you alternate between squirming and tensing up. “That’s right. And don’t you fucking forget it.”

You could see that he was about to resume pounding into you and once he did, you would be lost to the intensity of the orgasm that was quickly coming to claim you. A scream was about to tear out of your chest when he pushed in deeply one last time, him clearly enjoying that he had you on that edge, about to go over it, and deciding to be a dick about it. So you managed to grab his face, forcing him to meet your eyes, and quickly said what you’d been waiting to tell him ever since you saw him in that fucking suit, wielding that big ass shield which served as more of a weapon than protection. “Except the son you’re going to fuck into me tonight.”

His smirk dropped and the burning emerald was back, possibly more ablaze than before, and his grip tightened on you almost to the point of pain. If you weren’t in the throes of the most mind-numbing orgasm of your life right then, you would have given him your own smirk, knowing exactly what was about to follow. You thought he had unleashed on you before, but once again, he was intent on showing you just how wrong you were. You had never been happier to be mistaken twice in one night.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Sweet Not Home

Summary: The reader wakes up in bed next to a familiar but oh so strange man...

Pairing: Jensen x hunter!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Hooo boy enjoy this one!

You felt warm when you began to stir awake. There was a heavy blanket on you that was nice, not out of the ordinary for Dean to pile an extra one on the bed while you were sleeping. You rolled over in bed, smashing your face in a bare chest.

“Morning,” Dean mumbled. His voice wasn’t as deep and you wondered if he was coming down with something. You blinked open your eyes, resting your hands on his chest, running them down briefly before you cocked your head.

“Where’s your tattoo?” you asked carefully, putting your hand on his pec, ready to use your nails in the shifter’s flesh as a distraction. But this Dean was chuckling, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

“S’on my shoulder like always, silly,” he said, yawning and sighing softly. “You okay? You’re tense.”

You shifted your head up, noticing the white headboard, eyes darting around to see soft light colored walls, a large balcony door and a window overlooking a grassy backyard and pool.

“What the…” you said, standing and hopping out of bed, glad that you were at least in the t shirt and shorts you remembered falling asleep in. You went over to the door and pulled it open, Dean out of bed and moving to the other side of the room, hitting something on a white thermostat looking thing.

“Honey,” he said, walking over as you stood on the small balcony, leaning over the railing to look at a patio and some trees. “Y/N. Everything alright?”

“Where…” you asked, Dean sighing.

“We’re in Austin,” he said, running his hand gently over your head. You turned to look up at him, spotting him in a pair of navy boxers that he normally wore.

“Austin?” you asked, his arm sporting the tattoo he mentioned before but it wasn’t an anti-possession one.

“Okay,” he said, gently resting his hands on your shoulders and pulling you back into the very nice bedroom, soft carpet under your toes. He sat you on the bed and kneeled down in front of you. “The doctor said this might happen so that’s why he gave us the list of questions, remember?”

You had no idea what the hell was going on but you just shrugged, this guy very kind for a shifter if he was one.

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.

“Y/N,” you said.

“Your full name, sweetie,” he said, still smiling.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, the smile wiping off his face.

“That’s your maiden name,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “S’okay. We’ll keep going. What’s today’s date?”

“Um,” you said, thinking for a moment, Dean cocking his head when you answered.

“That’s right,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “Does your head hurt, honey?”

“My head? Why would my head hurt?” you asked.

“We were in a car accident two days ago. They were concerned you had a concussion. Last night was the first time you were at home. Do you not remember any of this?” he asked.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Dean? You know I love a good joke but now is not the time, Y/N,” said Dean. You swallowed hard, Dean putting a hand on your head. “What’s my name?”

“I…” you said, looking around the room for any kind of clue. Something had happened after your witch hunt obviously. Same name, different person. You were still Y/N where ever you were but a different version, paired up with a different Dean that apparently wasn’t named Dean. You were well off if your yard was anything to go off of so you definitely weren’t hunters. “I’m just tired. Sweetie.”

“Nice try. What’s my name?” he asked again.

“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded, curiously looking up at you. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s alright,” he said, very good at hiding the flash of concern that showed up on his face. “Do you-“

A phone started to ring, Not Dean ignoring it in favor for paying attention to you.

“Do you remember how we met at all?” he asked.

“Working a job,” you said, his face twitching up.

“That’s right,” he said, tilting his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m just...messing with you,” you said, the man pouting. He opened his mouth but a doorbell rang somewhere, the man getting to his feet.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he said, walking over to a closed door, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt from the floor as he went. The second he was out of the door you started to look around, trying to find clues about who he was. You could always make a break for it but in pajamas you didn’t think you’d get far, especially with this guy’s sweet husband thing he had going on.

You walked through an open door to a bathroom, cutting through it to find a closet. You sighed, wishing you’d found something with a name until you jogged back to the nightstand, a wallet on top.

“Yes,” you said, ripping it open and pulling out a Texas license. “Okay. Jensen Ackles. 6’ 1”. Organ donor. Well that’s nice and all but I still know nothing.”

You started to dig through the wallet, mostly credit and reward cards, some cash and a business card with a doctor’s name and number. There was a faded picture of him and a woman that looked exactly like you, the worn edges saying it was probably at least five years old.

You put the wallet back when you heard him coming, sitting back in your spot on the bed, trying to seem relaxed.

“Who was at the door, Jensen?” you asked innocently, Jensen lifting his chin.

“Kid up the street. Girl Scout cookies. I ordered you some thin mints,” he said, padding around to the side of the bed, arms crossed. “Don’t pull shit like that again. It’s not funny. You know how freaked I was after the accident.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, his face briefly looking hard before he started to drag his toes through the carpet.

“I get this feeling you’re lying to me,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’ve known you forever, kiddo. You have that look on your face.”

It’d be easy to lie and make something up. It’d be easy to fake a concussion too. Telling the truth would probably get you thrown in an institution.

Jensen tilted his head and walked over to you suddenly, grabbing your underwear and pulling the band down an inch.

“Hey!” you barked at him, kneeing him hard, Jensen falling to the floor.

“You don’t have a tattoo,” he said, getting to his feet slowly, pressing his thumb against your hip, wiping over your anti-possession one. “That’s real.”

He backed away from you, looking you up and down.

“You would never hit me like that because you know I don’t touch you like that and…” he said, tilting his head as he stared at your leg. “You don’t have a scar on your thigh. What…”

“Jensen...take a breather for me buddy,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “I can explain.”

“Am I nuts? You’re not my...did I die in that accident? Is this some-“

“Dude! Chill. You’re not dead,” you said, Jensen eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re fine. I’m the one that’s…”

“Not my wife?” he said, closing his eyes. “This is one of those freaky weird dreams that seems super real. That’s what it is. You definitely aren’t-“

“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said. “Hate to break it to you.”

“I was going to say, Reese,” he said. “You know, the character you play on a tv show. Now would be a great time to tell me this is a very in-depth prank.”

“Me? On TV? I have done some crazy stuff but that…” you said, Jensen nodding his head at you. “You’re freaking out.”

“Just a little,” he said. You hummed.

“I guess I have to give you the civilian talk,” you said.

“The what?” he asked.

“Just take a seat, Jensen.”

_________

[little-diable]

Sweetness – Carlisle Cullen (smut)

We just love daddy Carlisle in this household. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Carlisle and the reader finally give in to the longing they had felt for years. Pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, just oral (f) though, Carlisle is a dick at the beginning, some fluff, friends to lovers

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader (1.5k words)

“(Y/n)!” Anger dripped from his voice as he called for her. Her eyes were ripped from the file she was reading, rechecking the report before she could send it off. Slowly, her eyes wandered towards Doctor Cullen’s open door, waiting for him to keep on speaking. But all he did was call out her name again, forcing her towards his office with cautious steps.

Ever since last night, he had seemed off, more stressed and agitated than normal. Something must have happened at home, something that drew snappish words, loud commands, and unfriendly comments from the lips she had felt pressed against hers only last week. 

“Yes?” She stood in the doorframe with her hands interlaced in front of her. Ever since their shared kiss, a weird atmosphere had grown between them, something neither of them had spoken about in the past days. Perhaps he regretted the kiss they had shared in the middle of the night, while working on patient files together; perhaps he simply didn’t feel the same emotions she had struggled to adjust to these past years. Whatever it was, it left her feeling uneasy. 

“Where is the Jensen file?” His desk was covered with files, a mess that made her heart ache at the thought of having to sort this in a few minutes as he’d leave for his next consultation. He wasn’t one to leave behind a mess for her to take care of, and yet, every now and then, he seemed to drown in the numerous files he had to go through, begging her for help whenever he lost control. 

“I left it on top of these files this morning.” She stepped towards his desk, ready to sort through the files. 

“Well, it isn’t there. So where else could you have put it? Did you even work on it?” The accusatorial tone of his voice left her frozen, wide eyes finding his angry ones. Her heart ached in her chest at his words, she wasn’t used to being treated like that by him, the man she considered her closest friend–at least until last week.

“What exactly are you implying?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while matching the tone of his voice. Both stared at one another for a few moments before a sigh clawed through him, forcing him to close his eyes. (Y/n) studied him, he looked exhausted, tired even–something she hadn’t ever picked up around him before, something must clearly be wrong. 

Without saying another word, (y/n) turned back towards the door to close it, knowing that they needed some privacy. Carlisle’s golden eyes followed her every move, he watched her walk back towards his desk, watched her shuffle through the files for a second before finding the one he had been searching for. A quiet “Thank you” left the doctor as he took the file from her hand, letting it drop to his lap before reaching his hand out for (y/n) to take.

She needed a handful of seconds before giving in, allowing Carlisle to pull her towards him. With her standing between her thighs, both clung to the silence wrapping itself around them for a moment. (Y/n) had to fight against the need to comb her fingers through his hair, wanting to offer the comfort he seemed to desperately need. 

“There are some things we should talk about, can you stay for a while longer today?” Her heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at her. His eyes were filled with different emotions, uncertainty and confusion she felt just as much, but yet all she managed to do was nod her head. 

And with one last sigh, he let go of her, watching (y/n) find her way back to her desk with a slight tremble.

……

“You’re godsent, thank you for this.” Carlisle plopped down on his chair as he admired the way she had cleaned up his mess. It had been a long consultation, robbing the usually calm and collected doctor of his last nerve, something only (y/n) could now restore. She was sitting on the small couch with her gaze focused on his handsome features as she waited for him to keep on speaking. 

“I think I overstepped last week. It feels like I took advantage of a situation and pressured you to kiss me.” He avoided her gaze as he spoke his words, clearly emanating what he was struggling to fight through. She whispered his name, tried to catch his gaze though without any luck. Slowly, (y/n) rose to her feet to find her way to him.

“You didn’t pressure me, Carlisle. I enjoyed the kiss, and I know you did too.” Her heart ached at the pained expression crossing his features. Carlisle was clearly fighting something he struggled to put into words, unsure how to let her in on whatever he was currently going up against. With a sigh, (y/n) reached for his chin, she tilted it upwards so that Carlisle had to get lost in her gaze 

“I always struggled to stay away from you, but now,” he didn’t finish his sentence. All Carlisle could do was stare at her as (y/n) tilted her head down to kiss him. It didn’t take him long to snap into motion, to pull her into his lap with strong hands placed on her waist. He could hear her racing heart, could hear the blood rushing through her body, could hear the excitement she was held hostage by. 

Their back and forth had started years ago when they had first met, forming a strange bond that had lured (y/n) right into his trap. She’d follow the doctor wherever he’d go, unable to part from him. And he’d never be strong enough to let her go, a selfish need neither could shake. 

“Carlisle,” (y/n) choked on his name as she pushed herself closer, letting her heat rub against his bulge. She had always felt that need to be touched by him, hoping that one day she’d be fortunate enough to feel his hands on her body. 

“Talk to me, love, what do you want?” He parted from (y/n) to look at her, to stare at the woman who was straddling his lap. Her lips were swollen, her eyes were filled with a longing so strong, Carlisle couldn’t help but feel pride simmer deep inside of him. He’d be the only one to make her feel like this from now on, the only one to touch and cherish her. 

“I need you, always have.” The satisfied hum that left him almost managed to drown out her gasp as he rose to his feet only to place her down on his desk. They held eye contact as he tugged her trousers down her legs, exposing her soaked panties to his darkening eyes. With both arms wrapped around her thighs, Carlisle kissed his way up to her core, leaving her trembling in anticipation before he pushed her panties aside. 

“You’re gorgeous.” His praise left her moaning, she tried to shuffle even closer, needing to feel his tongue on her heat. (Y/n)’s hands instantly found his bright hair as he finally let his tongue brush through her slit, groaning at her taste. She couldn’t hold back her sounds, couldn’t force herself to stay quiet as he ate her out with an unfamiliar passion.

She felt weightless, thrown into another dimension as the man she had been crushing on for years finally touched her. It was better than imagined, more passionate, more raw, more intimate. Something about the feeling of his cold fingers on her warm skin made her tremble even stronger, adding a new kind of intensity. 

His name kept leaving (y/n), a sound that reverberated through his office, followed by the satisfied moans he couldn’t hold back. It was a sinful mixture, a mixture so intense, she feared she’ll never be able to rip herself free again. Her heart was Carlisle’s, he could have her forever if he’d want. 

“Fuck, love, look at you, you temptation.” He growled the words against her skin, let his fingers circle her clit while his tongue pushed into her tightness. Her walls fluttered around his strong muscle, pulling him even closer as her orgasm was about to thump through her. She could only moan his name, could only arch her back with trembling thighs and a racing heart. 

His mouth found her pulsing bundle as he let two of his cold fingers explore her tightness. He curled his fingers against her swollen spot, and with one last flicker of his tongue, (y/n) came for him. She couldn’t hold back her moans, couldn’t stop herself from giving into the most powerful orgasm she had felt in years.

“Jesus fuck, Carlisle.” Her panted words left him chuckling. Slowly he let go of her, only to pull her into his lap with his strong arms. With her head resting on his chest, (y/n) tried to come down from her high, while cuddling herself even closer to him.

“We’ll have to do that again.” (Y/n) mumbled against his shirt, words that left him chuckling louder than anticipated. And with a kiss pressed to her forehead, she knew that everything would be alright, he’d hold onto her for as long as she’d let him.

[supernotnatural2005]

The Hiatus Beard

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean grows a beard during your much needed R&R, and it does things to you.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SMUT!(18+ONLY), swearing, Dean's beard 😍

AN: I thought I'd release a little something before the first part of my series: The Arrangement, this Friday. Scruffy Dean/Jensen is just 🤌🏻 and does things to me. So enjoy this little one shot that got away from me 🫣

Masterlist

For as long as you’d known Dean, he’d always been a minimalist.

Whether that was with his cut-and-dry humour, his “kill first, ask questions later” attitude on a case, or his appearance. The way he dressed—a simple jeans and t-shirt combo with a flannel thrown over. And then there was his hair, short, neat, a quick run-through with some gel, and he was done.

And it had always been the same with his face. Clean-shaven, jaw sharp, lips unobscured. He had a routine. No scruff, no fuzz, just Dean as he always had been. Until now.

The moment the world stopped burning for a minute, when the fight against Michael had finally ended, Dean had agreed to take a break.

A real break.

You and him up at Rufus’s cabin, away from the bunker, away from the weight of saving everyone. Sam had all but shoved you both out the door, telling Dean to let himself breathe for once.

And maybe that was what made it happen. Because, for the first time in forever, Dean let go. He let himself sleep in. He let himself do nothing. He even let himself grow a beard.

It had started as stubble, nothing unusual, just a sign of taking a day off from shaving. But then a day turned into a week, and the neat, smooth skin you’d grown used to gave way to something rougher, wilder. A thick layer of golden-brown scruff covered his jaw, making him look different.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. It was just facial hair. And yet…

You couldn’t stop staring at him.

Dean with a beard did something to you, something primal, something that made heat coil low in your stomach every time you looked at him.

Maybe it was the contrast, the way it softened him but somehow made him look rougher all at once. Maybe it was how it made him look even more like the hunter he was, like the kind of man who could haul you over his shoulder and take what he wanted. Maybe it was because it was just so damn new.

And then there was the way he felt when he kissed you. The scratch of his beard against your lips, the roughness dragging along your skin in a way that made your breath stutter. Every kiss was different now, leaving a burn that lingered, that reminded you hours later that he’d been there. That he’d touched you. And it only made your mind wander further—how would it feel against your throat? Down your stomach? Between your legs?

The thought had haunted you for days, simmering under your skin, making it harder and harder to focus on anything else.

Whatever it was, it had you in a chokehold.

It didn’t help that Dean seemed utterly oblivious to it. He wasn’t doing it to be sexy. If anything, it was the opposite. The man had taken to walking around the cabin in old sweats and a stretched-out Led Zeppelin t-shirt, scratching at his beard like he was still getting used to it, completely unaware of what it was doing to you.

Until he noticed.

It was one night after dinner, sitting by the fire, both of you with beers in hand. Dean leaned back, stretching, and his eyes caught yours. You must have been staring—again—because his lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

“Alright, what gives?” His voice was low, rougher with the rasp of relaxation. “You’ve been looking at me weird for days.”

You blinked, feeling heat crawl up your neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean chuckled, setting his beer down. “Oh, sweetheart, you definitely do.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, the sound of fingers over scruff making your stomach tighten. “It’s the beard, isn’t it?”

You swallowed. “Maybe.”

Dean’s smirk deepened. He shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he levelled you with a gaze that made your breath hitch. “You like it?”

You could have played coy. Could have brushed it off, made a joke. But screw it. You were tired of pretending.

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice quieter than you meant it to be. “I do.”

Dean’s eyes darkened just a bit, his smirk flickering into something else. Something hotter. “That so?”

You nodded, fingers tightening around your beer bottle. “Yeah.”

Dean didn’t say anything for a second, just let the weight of the moment settle. Then, slowly, he leaned in, eyes locked onto yours.

“What have you been thinking about?”

Dean’s voice was a low murmur, rough and coaxing, but there was something dangerous curled beneath it—something that sent a shiver racing down your spine. His gaze was locked onto you, sharp and unrelenting, like he was already inside your head, already picking apart every filthy thought you’d had about him.

Your breath hitched. You could lie. You could change the subject. But what was the point? He’d see through it. He always did.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, pulse hammering like a war drum in your chest. “I’ve been wondering how it would feel.”

Dean’s brows lifted slightly, intrigue flickering through the storm in his eyes. “Where?”

Your stomach clenched, heat pooling low, so heavy it made your thighs press together involuntarily. “Between my legs.”

Everything in the room shifted—thickened. The air became stifling, charged, the space between you crackling with something untamed.

For a beat, he didn’t move. He just stared, breathing slow and deep, jaw clenched tight like he was barely restraining himself. And then—

He snapped.

In an instant, Dean was on you.

His mouth crashed against yours, rough and claiming, his beard scraping deliciously against your soft skin. His kiss was brutal, messy, all tongue and teeth, like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to taste you, to consume you.

His hands gripped at you, dragging you against him, pressing your body into the hard lines of his own. You could feel him—all of him—thick and aching beneath his jeans, grinding against the heat of your core.

A whimper spilled from your lips, and that sound—it did something to him. A guttural groan tore from his chest as he wrenched his mouth from yours, only to drag it along your jaw, your neck, his teeth scraping, his scruff burning against your skin in a way that made you tremble.

“You wanna feel it, sweetheart?” His voice was a rasp, breath hot against your throat as he nipped at your pulse, making you gasp. “Then let me give you exactly what you’ve been thinking about.”

Before you could respond, he was hauling you up into his arms like you weighed nothing, moving with purpose, raw determination burning in his gaze as he carried you to the bedroom.

Dean didn’t waste time. He laid you out on the bed, broad shoulders squared, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths as his eyes dragged over you—hungry, dark, wild.

And then, with agonising patience, he began undressing you. Deliberately.

He peeled away your top first, taking his time, letting his fingers linger on newly exposed skin before his mouth followed. Every inch of you was tasted, kissed, sucked—his beard scraping, the contrast of soft lips and rough scruff making your body writhe beneath him. He worked his way down, his mouth hot and open over your ribs, your stomach, the curve of your hips.

By the time he reached your jeans, you were a trembling mess, already lightheaded from the way he touched you, the way he took his time like he was savouring you.

But when he finally stripped you bare, something in him snapped again.

His hands slid up your legs, fingers pressing into your skin with a bruising grip, parting you for him. His breath hitched as he took you in, eyes darkening to something animalistic, something primal.

“Jesus.” His voice was low, almost reverent, but there was nothing holy in the way he looked at you.

Then he was moving, surging forward, his mouth hot and wet as he kissed up your legs—starting at your ankle, his beard scraping along your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs digging in as he worked his way higher, pressing kisses, nipping at soft flesh, until—

He reached where you needed him most.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate—a tease—but the effect was devastating. Your back arched, a breathless moan escaping you, and that sound shattered what little control he had left.

Dean growled, deep and low, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Then he dived in.

There was nothing gentle about it. He devoured you.

His tongue was relentless, flicking, curling, pressing deep as his scruff burned against the delicate skin of your thighs. The rough drag of his beard was intoxicating, every pass sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He gripped your hips hard, holding you in place, refusing to let you squirm away from the onslaught of sensation.

When your thighs clenched around his head, he groaned, the sound filthy, desperate. “Fuck, baby—give me that.” His voice was a growl, muffled against your slick heat, and then he buried himself deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, his beard scraping in the best, most deliciously punishing way.

You shattered.

Your orgasm crashed through you, white-hot and endless, and he didn’t stop—not when you cried out, not when your fingers yanked at his hair, not when your body shook from overstimulation. He just held you tighter, kept licking, sucking, fucking you with his tongue, dragging it out until you were wrecked beneath him.

Only when you were trembling, spent, did he finally pull back, his lips glistening, his breath ragged as he gazed down at you—his work of art.

And you knew, with just that look, he was nowhere near to being done with you.

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one.❤️ And I can't be the only one, who's thought about this, am I right? 👀😂

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester Tag List: @bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom