#dean x alex

[deantavias]

i know "gn!reader" means gender neutral, but, my brain always short-circuits to goodnight reader!

[alexandrathegreat5700]

destiel isn't gay in a gay way, its gay in a homophobic way

[princessmisery666]

Best Con Ever

Summary: It’s all fun and games until the truth is revealed.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, drinking, silly stuff, Jared being an annoyingly good friend (seriously, he wouldn't shut up!). 

W/C: 2,381.

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Alexander Calvert, Richard Richard Speight Jr.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Challenge/Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Prompt/Square Filled: Making fun of one another 

Notes: Jensen is a single pringle for this one! 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are mine.

Graphics: dividers - @talesmaniac89 / picture in title card - @lemondropsonice - they were kind enough to grant permission to use when I asked.

Master Lists: Dean Winchester / Main

The special fan event is going so well. The intro includes party games, such as Pin the Wings on the Angel and Bowling with the Devil. The pins have pictures of demons from each season taped to them. There’s also a drinking game with “apple juice” because Jensen and Jared keep insisting “Jack” - Alex - isn’t old enough to drink yet. You’re a little buzzed, but it helps ease your nerves. 

“Ah, you said Supernatural!” Alex exclaims, pointing at Jared, and the audience collectively yells, “DRINK!”

Shots of apple juice that smell suspiciously like whiskey this time get passed around until the four of you have one, and then, as one, you shoot them back.

“Woo,” Jensen yells, sucking his teeth as he turns his back to the audience and looks at you. “Don’t let me fall over.”

“Only if you do the same for me,” you laugh. 

“I got you.” He turns to the audience again but puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. 

Of course, the audience immediately awws and gasps. “Oh shhh, you lot,” Jensen playfully scolds, “I’m just holding her up.”

“Wouldn’t want her falling now, would we?” Jared says. “Unless it's for you. Ba-dum-tss.”

He gets nothing from the band. The drummer shakes his head.

“Oh, come on!” He complains. “That was good!”

This is your first event since joining the show at the end of season eleven, but it is not the first time a potential off-screen romance has been mentioned. You have seen videos of panels where fans have asked the question, and you and Jensen have each been approached by fans on the street. With Jensen’s arm wrapped firmly around you, you are sure you can get through it without making a fool of yourself.

Jensen has been a wonderful source of support from the beginning. You had been nervous about how the fans would react because you replaced the wonderful Megalyn Echikunwoke as Cassie Robinson, Dean’s love interest from way back in season one. The inconsistencies in appearance had been loosely explained, and it was somewhat plausible in the world of Supernatural, but that didn’t bother you so much. Being Dean’s love interest was what worried you the most. The fans are so protective, and rightfully so.

“They’re going to love you,” Jensen had said when you aired your concerns. “Just like I…we do.”

He was right. The reception to the reintroduction of Cassie couldn’t have gone better. The fans loved it and accepted you and Cassie Robinson with open arms. You’d read some comments, heard second-hand from producers, and when the fans started an online petition - for fun - to get you and Jensen to date in real life after seeing behind-the-scenes footage, Jared dubbed himself the President of the “Jensen and Y/N should be a couple IRL” club.

You and Jensen played along with it. It helped ratings, and it wasn’t a chore to have Mr Ackles’ undivided attention at parties and dinners to play up to the rumors. But that's all it is: rumors. The two of you are close, on and off set, but whereas Cassie and Dean are super hot, you and Jensen are lukewarm. Hugging Jensen - though it happens often - unfortunately doesn’t lead to sex like it would with Cassie and Dean.

Richard announces it's time for the fan questions and asks those selected to form an orderly queue behind the microphone. Though the questions have been pre-approved, you get a wave of anxiety as you don’t know what they will be, and you hope this portion of the event goes as well as the rest of the day. A fan asks how your first meeting with the cast went, and you look sheepishly at Jensen. 

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes but sighs in defeat. “Fine, you can tell it.”

“Better yet, reenact it!” Jared suggests. 

Your eyes light up with something akin to glee, and Jensen raises his brow and doesn’t need to ask the question in his eyes, ‘Really?’. You pout, bottom lip sticking out as far as it will go. “Please,” you draw out.

Reluctantly, making a show of it, and very slowly, Jensen gets to his feet, leaning closer to pretend to nip at your protruding lip. 

Jared shakes his arms out as he stands up, “I’ll play Y/N.” 

“The hell you will,” Jensen says, playfully pushing him out of the way. “Y/N will play herself.”

Jared comically falls over his chair to the ground as if Jensen’s push was twice the pressure it had actually been. 

You stand up in front of Jensen and wait for the laughing audience to quiet down. Jared stands straight and holds his microphone close to his mouth. “It was a bright winter morning, not a cloud in the sky,” he narrates in a poor impression of David Attenborough’s voice. “The beautiful and elusive beast, Jensen Ackles, notices a radiant creature across the lot. Slowly, he approaches…”

Jensen shakes his head at the crowd and rolls his whole head along with his eyes but obliges the narrator. He walks the few steps and shakes your hand with way too much enthusiasm. “Hi, I’m Batman. Dean. Ackles. I mean …” he groans, trying to dismiss his embarrassment, then blushes and says, “Hi.”

You laugh again, as does everyone else. Jensen grimaces just as he did on the day. “I’m going to walk into the sun now, sorry.” he strides around you to the end of the stage, and Jared steps up to take his place. 

Jared shakes your hand like a normal person. “Translation, that’s Jensen, for I think I just fell in love with you.” 

Jensen, with his back to the two of you, throws a thumbs-up over his head. “It went exactly like that!” Jensen confirms, nodding and shrugging as he makes his way back to his seat. “And now that we’ve all relived my embarrassment, let's move on.”

The microphone gets passed to the next person, and they ask, “Jared and Jensen are known for their pranks. Have they played any on you, Y/N?” 

“Oh yes!” you answer as Jensen takes his seat beside you and squeezes your knee. “I’m hanging like twenty feet in the air,” you begin.

“That’s like three Jared’s,” Richard adds, pointing to Jared on his left.

“Exactly,” you laugh, spreading your arms and legs out in a star to show the position you were in. “I’m full on Mission Impossible Tom Cruise-ing it, three Jared’s high off the ground, and the camera breaks.” 

The audience reacts with grimaces and chuckles. 

“They tell us it will be like ten minutes, and being the awesome trooper she is,” Jensen continues, flashing you a sweet smile. “She agrees to stay up there while they fix it.”

“Of course, it takes longer than ten minutes, so Jensen and I get bored!” Jared laughs, evilly rubbing his hands together.

“First of all, they decide to rub salt in the wound,” you shake your head, laughing at the memory. “They start doing lunges and star jumps, bragging about how comfortable and free they are.”

Jared and Jensen reenact their exercises, doing over-exaggerated lunges and squats, to laughter and catcalls.

“Stop it,” you say, around almost uncontrollable laughter. “You’ll split your pants.”

“Hey, watch it,” Jensen warns, pointing a finger, “my ass is not that big!” 

“Your ass is just fine,” you smirk, the audience agreeing with whoops and hollers.

“You're not so bad yourself,” Jensen counters, winking.

“Hey, hey,” Richard chides, shouting over the raucous audience. “This is a family show.”

“ANYWAY,” Jared says loudly. “Then we used her as target practice, trying to throw Skittles in her mouth.” 

“Let me tell you, at speed, those things are like bullets.” You explain, “I swear they chipped a tooth!”

“I’ll pay for any dental work,” Jensen confirms with a slight nod. “And to answer the question, Jared and I messed with the camera. We knew she’d get stuck up there.”

You shove his shoulder, and he teeters to one side before purposely overcorrecting himself so he’s lying across your lap. 

“We still need to get him back for that one,” Alex reminds you.

Jensen scoffs, rising to sit up again. “You tried and failed. Give it up.”

You and Alex simultaneously declare, “Never!” 

“Alex and I decided to team up and get them back,” you explain to the audience.

“They tried to get me,” Jensen says, “but Jared caught them, and he told me so it didn’t work. But they managed to get Jared,” Jensen begins laughing, unable to continue the story.

“All Y/N’s idea,” Alex insists, pretending to edge away from Jared.

Jared shakes his head, tongue sitting in the pocket of his cheek while he tries to look disgruntled but can’t hide the smile he tries to contain.

“It was genius,” Jensen manages around huffs of laughter. 

“We got the wardrobe department to take in his shirts and shorten his pants a little each day for a month,” Alex says. “But it only took two weeks before he started complaining about gaining weight and growing taller.”

Jensen’s laughter stops, his demeanor turning completely serious. “I cannot tell you how annoying he was about it!”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Jared protests. 

“Dude, you were bad!” Jensen counters, “You were googling if you could have a growth spurt after thirty. It’s all you talked about for two weeks. It was so annoying!” 

“That’s me, Jared Annoying Padalecki,” he says. Then has a lightbulb moment, or perhaps a whiskey-inspired one, and jumps off the stage. Everyone laughs as they watch him cheekily shove to the front of the question queue, dropping to his knees. 

“Hi, I’m Gen from Texas, and this is for Jensen,” he says in a higher pitched voice than anyone would expect could come out of the giant of a man. “I would like to know what your favorite scene to film was from the last season. And why is it the sex scene with Y/N from episode three?”

Jensen closes his eyes, face scrunched and lips pursed in mock annoyance as he flips Jared off.

“What a great question, Gen,” you chuckle, turning to stare at Jensen. “It was definitely one of my favorite scenes to film.”

“It was a fun day,” Jensen agrees. “Usually, sex scenes are super awkward and embarrassing, but it wasn’t. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a day in the back of Baby with all this,” he gestures toward Y/N, “on top of you.”

Jared gets to his feet, using a fan's shoulder to hoist himself up, and then bends to reach the microphone. “Follow-up question,” Jared begins, “this time for Y/N. Are you free for dinner tonight? Asking for a friend.” 

“Oh, for a friend,” you say, leaning to look around Jensen and at Alex. “Well, in that case, I’m free anytime, Mr Calvert.” you wink. 

Jensen leans forward, pointing a warning finger at him, “No!” 

“Urgh, Alex,” Jared groans, using a long leg to step back onto the stage, “you’re such a troublemaker!”

The next fan is given the microphone. “So it’s been twelve seasons; what mementos have you taken from the set?”

“Funny you should mention that,” Jared answers immediately, then sings, “Jensen’s in trouble. He stole the infamous demon Dean's red shirt.” 

Jensen throws his hands up, shaking his head. “I did not! I don't know who did, but it wasn't me.” 

Jared rolls his eyes. “So some ghost took it out of your trailer?” 

“Maybe,” Jensen shrugs. “This is Supernatural.” 

The drummer immediately punctuates his response, the hiss of the snare still echoing as Jared stands up in protest. But the audience is too quick, and they yell, “DRINK!” 

“You lot are a bad influence,” Jensen tells them as you all make your way to the drinks table at the back of the stage.

You hold your microphone down while Richard pours the shots. Leaning closer to Jensen, you ask, “Are you really in trouble because of it?”

Jensen scoffs, “No, of course not. But they need it for a photo shoot, and they want to auction it off for charity. They’ve been on my ass for weeks.”

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” Jensen asks, very much channeling Dean in his expression. “Do you know something about it?” 

You wince, trying to feign innocence, but it's no good. You know you’ve been caught out, and you’ll have to give it back. “I took it,” you confess.

“What? Why?” 

You can’t think of a lie quick enough. So with a nonchalant shrug, that's all for show because you don’t feel it at all, you admit, “I like it. It's a nice shirt to sleep in, and it smells like you.”

“If you want something that smells like me, you can have me!” Jensen blurts out loud enough that the mics lowered at your sides pick it up.

The fans erupt, screaming and shouting. They get to their feet and clap. Alex and Jared talk over each other, but it all becomes white noise as you stare at Jensen, who stares back. 

“Screw it,” he says, and you're the only one who hears it. But everyone sees him take a small step into your space and place a gentle kiss on your lips. He pulls back enough to look at you for any reaction, and when you lightly smile, he slips a hand down your cheek and draws you in closer for a deeper kiss this time. 

The crowd goes wild. Your ears will be ringing for days.

Jensen keeps the kiss PG13, but you go as far as wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. It ends too soon, but you remind yourself that you are being watched. He leans back, smiling happily. “Sorry if that was out of line.”

“The only thing that was out of line was how long it took you to do that.” 

He shrugs one shoulder, tongue sitting behind his teeth. “Sorry.”

Jared tries to get control of the audience, but it doesn’t work. Jensen walks to the edge of the stage and holds up a hand, silencing them with the simple gesture. 

Once it's quiet enough, he smiles, boyish and wide. “Best. Con. Ever.”

Master Lists: Dean Winchester / Main

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[potpourri-of-ecclecticism]

Izzex in every Greys Anatomy episode → 2.21 ("Superstition")

Izzie paints a pretty picture ‘cause she likes you, you know. Okay. I’m just saying she likes you. Which is going to be hard on her. You mean, when I die?

[arainbowmess]

I always say: the gayer the better

[queensilber]

HAPPY PRIDEMONTH TO ALL MY DYSFUNCTIONAL IDIOTS❤️❤️❤️🏳️‍🌈🤘🏻

[wolf-na]

wolf keum – eye twitch

summary : “can’t you believe what you see?” you’re best friends with wolf but your feelings for him are a burden to carry all by yourself. what happens when you actually confess?

genre : fluff – angst (i mean… wolf)

warnings : best friends to lovers, angst, fighting, blood, injuries, bad communication, harsh words, jealousy, wolf’s a bit ooc, stalking because wolf’s actually obsessed?!?!

author’s note : 1st time writing for weak hero and it had to be for wolf!¡! if you like this pairing i’m considering writing drabbles for them so throw a comment if you’d like to read that!

DRABBLE SERIES. one. two

The hand of the clock moved so slowly you could have ripped your own head off in boredom way too many times to count. You never liked Fridays, probably your second least favorite day of the week after Monday.

Your teacher was speaking, probably explaining a mathematical theory you never once cared about, but it sounded more like gibberish.

To your left, Wolf’s empty seat. He did offer you to skip the last classes of the day —not that he actually attended a single class the last two days, but you refused. Your parents were on your back ever since finding out you failed two tests this month.

You drop your head on your desk and text Wolf that you could just kill yourself at this point. You can almost hear his typical snicker in his reply.

You had been friends with Wolf for years at this point, bonding over a bizarre hobby you both shared. Fighting. Well, it wasn’t bizarre for the two of you, more so a daily activity. But you agreed it was uncommon for most people.

Unlike Wolf, you never tried to pick fights over nothing. But you would always retaliate when someone would challenge you. Sometimes you would fight over a simple snarky comment but, hey, they were asking for it.

And when Wolf joined the Union, people immediately assumed you did too. Donald did offer you a position, always open with the idea of creating a branch for women. You knew it was purely strategic, fully aware of the advantages women could bring to the table, especially for business.

You throw a pretty woman with a tight dress in a room full of old and rich business men and you can be sure that they sign any contract if the woman flirts with them, even just a little.

But you had politely declined the offer, not firmly, knowing that you had to let the window open just a little bit to make sure Wolf could be on Donald’s good side. Instead, you had promised Donald to think about it long and hard but that joining the Union was not part of your plan at the moment.

So, you were not directly part of the Union, but being friends, with one of its most important members, you knew you were kind of affiliated with them.

You’re the first on your feet when the bell rings. School is over and your favorite part of the week just started. The weekend. You pack your bag, say bye to your friends and sprint down the halls, ready to meet with Wolf for your usual Friday evening plans.

Your happiness fizzles out when you don’t spot Wolf’s purple hair amongst the buzzing crowd, nor do you see his bike.

Where the hell is that punk? you think as you pull out your phone.

He texted you ten minutes ago and your face falls at the message :

🐺 😈

last min meeting with donald

i’ll text you when i’m done

Well, it looks like your weekend is off to a rookie start. You just hope Wolf isn’t in trouble. You know he isn’t the best at keeping a low profile —even when Donald demands it, so, even if you know that Wolf wasn’t involved in any big confrontation recently, you can’t help but worry a little.

. . .

You were never a bad student. It doesn’t mean you’ve ever been a great student. You would more so say… good on average. You never planned on going to a prestigious college and your parents never tried that hard to make sure you were amongst the best students. So having them check your test scores every time after failing two exams was more than upsetting.

You grunt in front of the paper sitting on your desk, awaiting an essay that isn’t even interesting. Absentmindedly, your eyes land on your phone. No texts from Wolf. It’s ten at night. You’re about to grab the device, ready to call him when a slight knock on your window makes you drop the phone and jump up in surprise.

Wolf’s on the other side of the glass, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he waves with a tiny smile.

The daggers you send his way for scaring you are soon replaced by a heavy sigh. No bruises or blood on his face, his knuckles are untouched. Nothing bad happened during the meeting, Wolf is fine. You open the window and steal the stick from his mouth, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke directly on his face.

"Are your parents home?"

You chuckle, "Please, why do you keep asking."

Wolf shrugs and he blinks, taking a good look at you. When he comes over —most of the time without warning, it’s usually early in the morning or in the evening to take you out on a night stroll. Wolf has seen you in your pajamas often. But it’s definitely the first time he’s seen that one.

He raises an eyebrow, "Didn’t take you for a princess kind of girl."

"Uh?"

Wolf doesn’t think before latching a finger around the strap of your silk nightdress, "Princesses wear dresses like that to bed."

Your heart jumps in your chest at the contact. You two can be close physically, usually when no one you know is around, but this one feels different. You can feel your cheeks warming up and you step back, forcing Wolf to let go of his hold.

"How do you know what princesses wear?" you ask. "Do you watch romcoms in secret?"

Again, he simply shrugs, his eyes lingering on your figure as you open the drawer on your nightstand to pull out an ashtray and sit on your bed, still smoking his cigarette.

"Princesses don’t smoke," he says as he climbs into your bedroom. "Or fight."

"Good thing I’m not a princess then."

Shoes forgotten near the window, bag opened to reveal a few beers and some snacks, Wolf picks a CD and starts a track, jumping on your bed. He is lying down, face by the foot of your bed, occasionally sitting up to drink his beer.

He is quiet and you take that time to observe him, eyes wandering by his features. He has his usual bandages, one on his jaw, another one following his neck line. His face is relaxed, eyes gazing at the ceiling, as if his often clouded brain is now peaceful.

"You’re staring."

You blink, almost choking on your sip, and nudge him with your foot. You absolutely hate when Wolf does that. You don’t know if those glasses give him superpowers but it’s like he always knows when you look at him. Sometimes, you happen to stumble upon one of his fights and it only takes him a second to turn around and spot you.

When he sees you and he is busy fighting random guys on the streets, he often winks, "My supporter’s finally here."

Other times, he lets you finish the fight for him. It only happens when he knows you are strong enough to defeat them and because he never once hid the fact he goes feral when watching you fight. He just loves to see when boys go from confident —they always assume they are stronger than women, to utterly terrified and ashamed when you throw them to the ground. What’s even more exciting is that these boys usually don’t even have enough time to try and touch you that they’re lying on the ground in a puddle of blood.

You sigh, putting your beer can on the nightstand, "How was the meeting?"

And that is when something weird happens. Gaze still locked on the ceiling, you notice how he stiffens, eyes darkening at your question.

"S’alright," Wolf replies.

S’alright? you repeat in your head. Well, that’s a first. Usually, Wolf hardly keeps secrets from you. Of course, if things were sensitively confidential, you knew Wolf would never mention them. But you had already been invited to meetings in the past. Mainly in the beginning, when Donald was trying to recruit you.

Your stomach twists at the way Wolf’s attitude changed in a second. You don’t know what happened but you don’t like what you’re seeing. Wolf is usually so… careless. Even when it comes to the Union. He does the job but he never looks worried.

You can tell something is bothering him. And you hate seeing this. It makes you feel like something really bad could potentially be happening sooner than planned. You sit up, ready to change his mind, "Wanna go out?"

You have this bar you both love to go to, mainly because the owners love you. For an obscure reason, you never dared to ask, too scared to lose that privilege, since you’re not eighteen yet. Well, in a few months but, legally, you’re not allowed in.

You miss the way an almost unseen expression flashes in Wolf’s eyes for less than a second and he shakes his head, "No, I’m good here."

Well, that’s even weirder. Wolf’s always up for a drink at the bar. Actually, he is always up for multiple drinks and you often end on the dance floor after one or two drinks, always begging for Wolf to come with you. You’re not persuasive enough since he’s always sitting on a stool, keeping an eye on you.

"Okay."

And, again, you take a look at him. His eyes are closed now, his breathing is steady and his arms are crossed behind his head. You bite your lower lip at the sight and mentally curse.

It was an eternal battle with yourself to face your feelings for Wolf. Because they settled in your heart insidiously, like a secret your own brain was unaware of. At first, you only thought it was because he looked pretty. Because he did. Amongst the girls in high school, it was always « If only he wasn’t such a psycho, I could fall for him ». Except you knew more than the psycho about Wolf.

He likes to read, alone or with you, and you still perfectly remember the shock on your face the day Wolf mentioned wanting to go to the library with you. You were astounded. Even more when he actually did go, breezing through the library’s alleys and reading back cover after back cover until he settled on a book.

He likes to go eat with you, always okay with whatever place you pick and he is always down to try the weirdest looking dish on the menu.

He remembers everything you tell him. From the strange dreams you’ve had the night before, the next tatoo you plan on getting, your favorite snack and the names of the people who ever messed with you.

And, even if you know he doesn’t talk much, he is always there. You know you can always count on him for anything.

You drop your head back, feeling conflicted. You will have to confess. The feelings are eating you alive, burning and choking you when you barely start to think about them. But you know you might lose him when you do confess.

Wolf doesn’t seem interested in dating. Hell, even flirting seems to bore him out of his mind. You’ve noticed how women try to engage a conversation whenever you go out to the bar. Every time, his eyes leave you to land on the stranger. Every time, he blinks, says something you can never hear because you are too far, the woman blushes in embarrassment and walks away. Then, he sips his drink and looks back at you.

Sometimes, the delusional part of yourself thinks it’s because of you. He likes to tease you about how much you look at him. But he does the same. You may not be as good to spot his eyes on you every time but you catch him often.

Somewhere in your mind, the hope that Wolf may feel things for you exists. And as exciting as it is, it’s just as dangerous. You know Wolf isn’t one to sit on things he wants to say or do. If he does like you, a part of you knows it would be completely out of character for him to stay silent. Wolf is not a passive person, quite the opposite.

That is also why you need to confess. Because you’d rather rip the bandage quickly and be rejected than to keep living in the fantasy that blossoms more and more each day.

It is probably going to hurt. Your heart already aches at the possibility of Wolf turning on his heels and erasing you from his life altogether. But unrequited love always hurts harder in the long run if kept quiet.

You have to confess. But not tonight. No, tonight you want to enjoy his presence a little longer.

. . .

You’ve spent every night with Wolf this past week. Which is strange because Wolf usually likes his alone time.

And, every night, you told yourself you would confess. Only to chicken out. You would start talking, look up to see Wolf’s eyes already on you and a wave of regret would choke the words down your throat.

The breeze blows stronger now that you are on the highest hill of the park. The heavy clouds rapidly moving into the night sky forced the few people already there to pack their stuff and leave.

It’s going to rain, you can feel it.

Something electric lingers in the air, you have to confess now. After spending a whole week with Wolf —he even attended more classes, you can’t stand what’s happening inside of you anymore. The way your stomach twists and your heart races, it just hurts.

Wolf is leaning against the railing, back facing you, as he smokes a cigarette.

You take a deep breath, "Wolf."

"Ah, are you finally gonna say what’s been on your mind all week?"

Touché. You know Wolf is smart and never bought your excuses every time you pretended what you wanted to say wasn’t important. Or that it slipped your mind.

Wolf turns around, eyes boring into yours and it feels like there is no distance between you both. But there is. You would have to take a good five steps to be standing in front of him. So why does it feel like he is right there, so close that your breathing picks up and that you feel your throat tightening.

You can’t back down anymore. Not this time. You tried to make the feelings go away, persuading yourself you were making things up. To no avail. You like him.

Fuck what happens next, you’re prepared for the worst.

"I like you."

A heavier breeze hits your face when the words leave your mouth, carrying the echoes of your confession into the sky.

That’s it, you said it. It’s too late to back out now.

Wolf’s eyes twitch for a second before he blinks once. No, twice. A silence that lasts for longing seconds fills the distance. You watch him, noticing how he seems to be struggling with something. His lips tremble, as if wanting to say something, and a veil cover his eyes.

Suddenly, you wonder. Did he really understand what you just said? Saying you like someone doesn’t necessarily mean in a romantic way. You like all of your friends and are never scared to tell them.

You scratch your throat, "I—I meant, hm, not just as a… friend—"

"Yeah, I got that."

Wolf’s voice is as sharp as ice when he interrupts you. It’s as harsh as your mother’s hand colliding against your cheek.

That is a good thing you prepared yourself for the worst case scenario. Because it looks like it’s becoming real.

The veil that was covering his eyes vanishes and his gaze darkens. It is the first time Wolf has ever looked at you this way, your blood turns cold at the sight.

The next minute is probably the worst in your life, as Wolf spits terrifying words at your face.

"You think I didn’t know before?"

You can’t stop the blush warming up your face. You didn’t think it was so easy to read you.

"I thought you were smarter than this, honestly," he says with a snicker. "I don’t need friends, even less a girlfriend."

Okay, you weren’t expecting such harsh words. What does he mean he doesn’t need friends? Was your friendship with Wolf a product of your imagination? It couldn’t be. You never forced him to hang out with you, he was actually the one to approach you first, years ago, after seeing you defeating three boys at once.

"I hang out with you because Donald wants you in the Union," he reveals. "Not because I want to."

A part of you knows Wolf is blatantly lying to you. You were friends before he joined the Union. You were also certain that Wolf was glad the day you refused to join the Union. He never said anything out loud but being a part of the Union meant risking your life every day because the stakes were higher than random fights at school or in the streets of Seoul.

And yet, Wolf said what he said. That he was never your friend and was obeying Donald’s orders. What if it was all true, in the end? Because Wolf had proven to be manipulative when it could benefit him or the Union.

Your world came crashing down with the first light rain drops falling on the ground. Even if Wolf’s words were lies —you could still hope all of this was just a nightmare, they hurt. Next to this, a few punches in the face would feel nice and comforting.

Wolf didn’t like you back and chose to spit hatred at your face instead.

A feeling of rage melted with the pain and sorrow. Tears were threatening to fill your eyes but you couldn’t cry now. Not in front of him.

You glare at him, "There was no need to talk to me like that."

Wolf’s eyes twitch again. He has seen you glaring at people in the past. He has seen you seething harsh words at people. But never at him. You were always nice, a bit playful, mostly attentive and caring, even in the smallest of actions.

Now, you’re looking at him like he is an enemy.

"You could’ve just said you didn’t like me back."

But he can hear the way your voice slightly breaks, he can see your eyes glistening.

You turn around, not waiting to see if he wants to reply, and walk away. He’s said enough, ripping your heart in half. He won the fight and you choose to process the defeat far away from him.

. . .

You think the warning of rain in the sky was actually a warning for rain in your heart. Because the clouds are shyly dropping cold beads of water on the pavement but not enough to need an umbrella.

No, the real rain comes from your heart and flows through your eyes. No matter how hard you try to stop the tears, they just keep coming, over and over again.

You feel so weak, so stupid to have ever thought confessing to Wolf was a great idea. You were expecting a rejection. But this one was harsh. So harsh that your friendship with him was thrown in the flames, burning into ashes spread around by the wind.

Until nothing was left anymore.

You replay your friendship with him as you walk down the streets. All those nights he came to your place, climbing into your bedroom with drinks and snacks, lying down on your bed with a book in his hands. The nights you would patch him up after a fight, cleaning his wounds and cursing him for fighting endlessly. The times you would open your bag in school to find a new book in it with a note inside, Wolf would buy those he thought you’d like.

Was it always fake on his part? Was it just part of Donald’s plan to get you in the Union? What if Donald had promised a huge load of money to Wolf if he ever got you to join? After all, those small actions just meant he knew you well, understood what you liked and what you needed to be trustful.

Maybe it was always fake, you think as a whimper inevitably escapes your lips.

"Hey, pretty, why’re you crying?"

You stop at the masculine voice. Who dares speak to you when you are literally going through a heartbreak? You really don’t have the strength to snap at anyone right now.

"Come here, baby," the man says again. "I promise you’ll be the happiest girl when I take care of you."

You don’t even look at the man, ignoring the alarming sirens that boom in your head when you hear the laughters of two other men.

Nothing will happen to you if you just keep walking. These men just like to mess with girls because they need a distraction. Also because they are incredibly stupid. Who thinks hitting on a woman in the street is going to get them anywhere?

You start walking again but the man calls out for you again, "Hey, hey!" Next thing you know, he is standing in front of you.

He is tall, extremely tall, very muscular and carries a disturbingly large smile on his face. Your heart slightly drops in your chest. You know you’re a great fighter but he appears way too strong.

His two friends pop up behind him, sporting equally disturbing smiles as they eye you up and down.

"We’re going to a club, you should come," the first man says. "I promise you won’t be crying no more if you hang out with us."

Rage bubbles in your chest again. Does it look like you want to go to a club with a bunch of strangers? You just want to cry in peace.

"Leave me alone."

The three men share an intrigued glance and the tallest one claps his hands, "Feisty, I like it."

Oh god, they aren’t giving up, you think. You just want to go home, you don’t know what else you have to do to show them you aren’t interested by them.

"I want you even more now," he says, his fingers wiping the dried tears on your cheek.

The physical contact is so sudden, so unexpected, that you freeze on the ground. Did he just touch you? Did he really just do that?

Your fighting style has always been completely different than Wolf’s. Wolf goes straight into it, punching and kicking with all his will, definitely not scared of what his opponent might strike him with.

You, on the other hand, like to think things through. You rarely hit first because it is often the weakest strategy. Instead, you like to let your opponent throw the first punches, dodging them so it gives you enough time to analyze their fighting style.

But that man just touched you. He laid his fingers on your face, stroking your skin as if you belonged to him. He may look stronger but you are enraged, mind clouded with tears and pain.

Fuck strategies, you don’t even think before pushing his hand away and slapping him across the face with all your strength.

The blow is so strong the man stumbles on his own feet and the sizzling sound of your palm colliding with his cheek bounces against the walls.

You can leave now. They learned their lesson.

Or maybe not.

You’re thrown into a dark alley a few seconds later.

For ten minutes, you try to fight back as much as you can. But your first observation was the right one, they are stronger than you. And your mind is too out of it. You didn’t want to fight tonight, that wasn’t your plan.

You just wanted to confess to your best friend, when you still hoped he would confess as well.

Now, you’re scarred, face and knuckles seeping with blood, slightly limping and latching your fingers on the ripped hem of your top.

You don’t notice Jake, Dean and Timothy drinking in front of a convenience store when you walk past them.

They see you, though. And they are quick to understand that the three boys who walked away a few minutes earlier, spitting insults about a girl as they grunted in pain —one of them holding onto his arm as he had a visibly dislocated shoulder, were talking about you.

"Damn, she can really fight," Dean says as they watch you disappear around the corner.

"She isn’t first in the girls’ Shuttle Patch for nothing," Timothy notes.

. . .

You didn’t go to school for three days after that incident. Your parents saw the state you were in and didn’t even try to fight you. They didn’t know what to do with you anyways.

Your body was aching but it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest. Your mind was playing games with you, constantly flashing images of Wolf, reminding you of his last words and the disdain in his eyes.

How long will it take for you to move on? It is impossible to tell. But, with each awake second, the pain is growing, choking you with tears.

Wolf didn’t listen to a word Donald said during the meeting. He didn’t see you for three days, nor did anyone see you at school.

He recalled what happened almost two weeks ago.

Wolf was perched on the roof of Ganghak, waiting for Hwangmo. Looking down, he saw you walking out of the school as your eyes scanned your surroundings. He noticed the way you shoulders lowered when you checked your phone.

You didn’t need to know what he was doing.

When Hwangmo finally showed up on the roof, Wolf didn’t waste a second and pulled out his phone.

"See this number?" Wolf gestured for the unknown contact. "I want you to find who they are."

Hwangmo nodded, typing down the contact on his phone. But he was unsettled. Why did Wolf need help for that? If he had issues with someone, Wolf never hesitated to go give them a beating. What was different this time?

"What’s with them?"

Wolf let out a sigh, locking his phone before his eyes could look at the texts sent by that unknown number.

"They’re threatening (Y/N)."

And that is why he rejected you that night. He didn’t think before the worst words escaped his mouth. Because he knew exactly what to say to make sure you would turn around and not look back.

He considered telling you what was going on. Multiple times. After all, you worked as a pair. But he didn’t because they were trying to get to him. Warning you would have only caused a bigger issue. He knew you could fight back, he just didn’t know what these people were capable of.

If they had been threatening him, Wolf wouldn’t have cared one bit. You, it was different. So he pushed you away, thinking it could be the solution to make sure nothing would happen to you.

"Hey, do you know who these guys were?"

Wolf blinks, pulled out of his thoughts by Jake’s voice. He grimaces at him, "What’re you talking about?"

"Those who attacked (Y/N)."

The world spins when Wolf understands why you didn’t come to school for three days. Were you attacked… No, Wolf couldn’t think it had happened right after the last time he saw you.

Jake awkwardly scratches the back of his head, "Is there trouble in paradise between you two? She… didn’t tell you?"

Wolf doesn’t say anything about Jake’s innuendo. Most of the people in the Union —or who knows you and Wolf, think you have been dating for a while now. Wolf never minded and even less tried to correct anyone. He liked to know nobody would try to flirt with you. It took him some time to understand why he liked that people stayed away from you.

No, Wolf is fuming when his eyes land on Jake, "When and where? How many were they?"

. . .

You’re a great fighter and you’re used to the bruises and cuts but you can’t help the grunt out of your throat when you have to lift the heavy trash bag to throw it into the container of your building.

Dragging your feet onto the pavement, you just want to go back into your house and lock yourself in your bedroom. You’ve been binge watching animes for the last four days and you don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

You stop dead in your tracks when you spot Wolf outside of your house, leaning against your bedroom window. For how long has he been here? You walked out just two minutes ago to take out the trash. You should have heard his bike.

But, then, you notice his appearance. His hair is messier than usual, his eyes glazed and skin covered in blood, lower lip busted, scratch on his cheek and knuckles. He just got out of a fight, you think.

If he wants you to take care of him, he can go fuck himself. What the hell is he doing here in the first place, has he lost his mind? Did he forget what he told you last time?

Whatever, I just have to walk past him, you tell yourself.

Wolf, on the other hand, is taking in your appearance. You’re wearing your « lazy » pajamas, as you like to call them. An oversized tshirt and shorts. He’s seen you in those a lot. Big bags under your eyes, Wolf knows it means you didn’t sleep much these past few days.

And then he sees the bruises. All over your arms, some on your legs, but the worst one is around your neck. These bastards choked you, Wolf knows.

Your eyes gaze past him and you start walking with your heart thudding in your chest. Just a few steps and you will be inside your house. Just a few steps and you can pretend he was never there in the first place.

Wolf stands up and blocks the way, standing in front of you.

"Move."

Wolf doesn’t budge, instead pointing a finger at you, "What’s this?"

"Makeup," you snark, finally letting your eyes connect with his. "I’m considering a career in special effects."

His jaw clenches at your sarcastic tone, that is something he’s always liked. Not now, though.

"Now, if you’ll excuse me," you say as you step aside to walk past him, "I have stuff to do."

Wolf pulls you back by the wrist and you hiss in pain, terror flashing in your eyes when you notice Wolf’s cold gaze on you, "You thought I wouldn’t find out?"

You yank your wrist away, "What the fuck do you want, Wolf?"

Silence settles between you both. You see the same expression on Wolf’s face, the one he carried when you confessed. The one you didn’t understand. But, honestly, you’re done with him. What brings him here?

"Can’t you just let me be?" you rage. "Didn’t you do enough last time? Wanna go at it again?"

"You’re so fucking dumb sometimes, Y/N."

That’s when you lose it. For the second time this week, you attack first. How dare he call you dumb when you’re just… sad and confused?

Wolf, who’s good at predicting when and where people will hit, is struck by lightning when your palm comes in contact with his cheek. He had never experienced your strength. Now he knows why you’re so good at fighting.

In the blink of an eye, you’re pressed against a wall with Wolf’s hands on your shoulders.

"How dare you call me dumb?" you growl, desperately trying to push him away. But he is too strong. "Why are you here? What’s your fucking problem!"

Wolf doesn’t express feelings often. Besides anger. That he knows how to express. It’s easy, all he has to do is count to three. You, on the other hand, bring other feelings into action. Feelings he doesn’t understand himself.

But seeing how determined you are to get out of his grasp, you who’s always so keen to be gentle to him, is enraging.

He snaps, "I didn’t fucking mean what I said last time!"

Your heart stops at his words but isn’t it too late now? You relax against his hands but a snicker fills the silence, "Right, of fucking course."

Wolf blinks in confusion, you’re smirking and rolling your eyes at him. You’re… making fun of him.

The surprise causes him to relax his grasp and you slightly push him away, "You can go fuck yourself, Wolf."

He won’t let you go away so easily. No, instead, he pushes you back against the wall and you barely have time to understand what’s happening that you feel one of his arms wrapping around your waist and one of his hands resting against your cheek.

Your heart jumps to your throat and you gasp when he crashes his lips on yours.

His lips are chapped and you can taste the blood on the tip of your tongue but you can’t help but melt into his embrace. You hum against him, using one hand to pull him even closer by the collar of his shirt as you let your other hand grab his hair.

He groans into your mouth, kissing you more feverishly, tightening his grasp on your waist. You know you’ll have a bruise shaped like his fingers tomorrow morning.

It feels so good, you don’t want this moment to ever stop. There is a clear fight for dominance as your lips clash and you bite his lower lip, pulling on the flesh. He kisses you harder after that.

Wolf is kissing you, you’re kissing him. It feels so good but, then, his words echoe in your brain.

"I hang out with you because Donald wants you in the Union. Not because I want to."

Wolf breathes into your neck, biting the skin under your ear before licking his mark.

"I don’t need friends, even less a girlfriend."

He is kissing your collarbone, you shiver and your heart flips in your chest. It feels so good to have him like that, you wrapped around him as he touches you in places you’ve fantasized about for way too long.

But you push him away.

He looks at you in confusion and you don’t linger on his lips, they’re swollen and you don’t want the memory to ever be engraved in your mind.

"I… You can’t be doing that," you pant with trembling lips. "Maybe you didn’t mean what you said but I can’t fucking forget those words."

You walk back into your house before Wolf even has time to understand what just happened.

. . .

For the next two weeks, you barely cross paths with Wolf.

Well, you try not to but it’s like he is everywhere you are.

First, he attends more classes. You wouldn’t go as far as to say he is here every day of the week. But you notice the surprise on your teachers faces when they spot his purple hair in the classroom more and more over the past two weeks.

He tends to go more to the cafeteria as well, followed by Hwangmo and Hayden.

Next thing you know, the whole school whispers about you two in the hallways. Because you are seen in the same place but never together. The rumors of a potential breakup —wait did they really think we were dating?, keep everyone on the edge of their seat but you pretend not to hear a thing.

And when you are out with friends, you know he is somewhere amongst the crowd. You never try to look for him but it’s like your eyes can’t help but fall on him.

Because a part of you misses him. Those past two weeks stretched to feel like an eternity. The memories of Wolf definitely hold a sour taste now —mixed with the pain inflicted, but your heart still flutters at the simple thought of him.

You can’t erase his arm around your waist, his lips on yours, kissing you like you provided him with oxygen, unlocking a new addiction.

You check your reflection in the mirror one last time, fixing the strap of your dress and you leave your house. You planned to go out for drinks with your girl friends, knowing just the bar that would let you all in.

The owner greets you warmly when you walk in and your nostrils flare at the smell of alcohol mixed with sweat and strong cologne.

You lean towards the bar and fist bumps the owner as she speaks, pointing a finger to her left, "Wolf’s already there!"

A dragged sigh escapes your lips when you see Wolf sitting on a stool, carelessly toying with his drink. Your friends grimace at your sudden blank face and they shake their heads when you sprint towards the purple haired boy.

Wolf turns around when someone taps his shoulder. He bats his eyelashes a little faster, eyeing you up and down.

"Can you stop being everywhere I go?"

His eyes linger where your dress stops, mid thigh, and he gulps. He still carries his usual smug, though, and you’re too annoyed to notice the effect you have on him.

He licks his lips as he makes eye contact with you, "Princess dress again, uh?"

He doesn’t have the right to give that type of look. That’s the type of thing that only happens in movies, the type of scene that would have you screaming in your pillow before you’d start internally complaining that this never happens in real life.

You want to punch that smirk off his face, "This isn’t funny, Wolf. You can’t erase everything by acting like a stalker."

What you don’t know, though, is that Wolf keeps an eye on you because the three boys who attacked you last time were not those who threatened to come after you.

He made the mistake to let you be by yourself once, he isn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

Wolf’s smirk vanishes and he blinks, "You’re pretty."

Suddenly, you don’t know how to breathe anymore. His voice had been soft, such a contrast compared to the last times you exchanged words with him. You want to believe him so bad. So bad.

Because you know Wolf can manipulate others but would he go that far? It was clear you wouldn’t join the Union anytime soon. Especially not after what had recently happened. And Wolf was smart enough to know that fixing your relationship wouldn’t change your mind on that.

Wolf can tell your mind is racing, he knows because you always do this thing with your eyebrows when you’re deep in thought. He wants to know what you think, hell, he wants you to stop thinking and start believing him.

He hates how you avoid him because you’ve always been such a safe person for him. Even he needs a break here and there. You were always there to provide that for him, even when he was fighting.

He tries to reach for your hand but you turn around and walk away, somewhere between anger and on the verge of tears.

"Let’s go," you deadpan, "I don’t wanna be here anymore."

"What?! No, come on, Y/N," Minji pouts.

"Please… I don’t feel good."

Yujin raises an eyebrow, "Hey, we don’t know what happened between you and Wolf. You don’t have to say a thing about it if you don’t want to."

No, you don’t want to. Everything in your head is twisting and nothing makes sense anymore. How did things end up so terribly, anyway? If only you had kept your damn mouth shut, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

"There’s nothing to say, I just don’t know if anything with him was ever fucking real."

"Yo, stop acting like such a pick-me," Minji warned. "We hate those, remember?"

"Yeah, I don’t get why you think it wasn’t real?" Yujin says with a chuckle. "Wolf’s been obsessed with you forever."

"Preach!" Minji wooed, giving Yujin a high five. "I think you’ve been blind too long cause boy only ever had eyes for you." She looks away for a second before shivering, "It was a bit creepy at times, if I can be honest."

Yujin pushes you to the side, "Just go talk to him. Like talk for real."

The two girls push you even further and you know you’ll have no other choice but to confront him. But what is there to say? Can you two fix things?

Deep down, you’re terrified to forgive him but hold a tiny piece of grudge on the inside. Because that’s what could cause your relationship to break in the long run. Wouldn’t it be best to end things right now?

Your heart aches at the thought. Because you want things to get fixed. Hell, you’d rather go back to just being friends with him if it meant moving on from what had happened.

You take small steps, unsure of how to approach him now. Knowing Wolf, he could just laugh at your face for breaking so easily.

A woman is sitting next to him, leaning forward with the most flirtatious smile you have ever seen. The way your heartbeats speed is unmatched and you can feel yourself glaring at her from where you’re standing.

Wolf’s eyes flicker to you and you don’t waste a second, latching a hand around his wrist and tugging him away from there.

This time, you’re walking with a purpose and you roll your eyes when you hear Wolf snickering behind you. He can judge you all he wants, you’re walking out of this place with him.

You squint your eyes when the cold breeze hits your face but you don’t halt your footsteps, the streets are too crowded, you need to be alone with Wolf.

"Ah, where’s the princess taking me?"

"Shut up."

Wolf laughs a little louder, "Bossy, even with me."

Finally, you find the perfect place. An empty kids’ playground. Wolf raises his eyebrows when you drag him there. You release the grip you have on his wrist and point a finger at a swing, "Sit there."

Again, that is the first time Wolf experiences this side of you. He knows you have a tendency to dominate and that you like to feel in control of everything. The funny thing is, Wolf is like that too, but none of you ever tried to be in control of the friendship. As if you both naturally balanced each other out.

Usually, Wolf hates being told what to do. He doesn’t know why it does something different to him when it’s coming from you.

And it does something to you when Wolf sits down without batting an eye. Your mind wanders at the sight of him, oh how easy would it be to take just a few steps and lock your arms around his shoulders. He would lift his chin up to make eye contact and you would only have to lean in a little to feel his lips on yours again.

Oh god, just focus, you think. You cross your arms over your chest, "Explain yourself."

The smugness stretching his features is replaced by something more serious. His eyes leave yours and land on something random behind you as his breathing picks up. Just a little but it’s enough for you to notice.

You know it’s best for you to wait, Wolf isn’t one to talk much and you know you’re asking for a lot. But your mind runs wild with the possibilities.

"There’s nothing to explain."

Oh yeah, you should have expected that. Typical Wolf. You’re glaring, the words coming out sharply out of your mouth, "Why did you lie?"

Another beat of silence and you’re growing more fed up by the minute, "Did you even fucking lie?"

"You don’t need to know."

"Are you serious right now?!" you scoff and you groan when Wolf’s blank expression doesn’t budge. "I can’t fucking believe you, do I have to… beg you?"

"Don’t bother," he deadpans, before a smirk tugs his lips. "As tempting as it sounds."

You ignore his last words, "Then why are you following me around?!" you ask in frustration. "Do you… do you actually want us to be friends again?"

Wolf gives you an unimpressed look, "No."

You’re completely out of words, what is wrong with him. Is he serious right now?

"Y/N, I can’t kiss my friends."

You throw daggers at him with your eyes, "Stop, this isn’t funny."

"I’m not joking."

"I don’t believe you," you reply in a heartbeat. "One day you say you were never friends with me, now you say you want to kiss me. What am I supposed to believe, uh?"

Wolf is so done with you at this point. It was funny seeing you act stubborn for a few minutes, now he wants you to look at him. He leans forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him forcefully.

You gasp in surprise, forced to press your arms against in chest to avoid falling face first into him.

"Can’t you just believe what you see?" Wolf asks in a whisper.

Time stills when you finally look down and focus on him. Your heart skips a beat when his arms lock around your waist, securing your body against his. You could die for his eyes, the way they’re traveling between your eyes and your lips, twitching behind his glasses.

And you recall all those times you caught his eyes on you.

One day, you were stretching after PE class and Wolf was waiting for you on the bleachers because you had planned to ditch maths class afterwards. When you made eye contact, you barely noticed how his eyes twitched before he blinked.

Another day, you were reading in a park, enjoying the sunlight, when your attention was drawn to a couple walking their dog. Honestly, the dog was the cutest thing you’d seen all day and you were literally fawning over the little fur ball. You felt Wolf’s eyes on you and looked at him with the biggest smile on your face. Again, his eyes twitched.

One time, Wolf was at your house, sitting on your desk chair with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. You were reading the instructions on the box of hair dye. It was the first time you were doing this and your heart was hammering in your chest with fear. You really didn’t want to mess this up. You knew you were just touching up his roots but it still felt like an incredibly important task. When you looked at the mirror, Wolf’s eyes were already on you.

Maybe you’ve been blind all these years. Because it feels like you just put together all the pieces of the puzzle. You always wondered how Wolf was able to feel your eyes on him. Could it be because his own eyes were always settled on you?

Your friends words resonate, the rumors at school, the way strangers always looked at you both, how boys never dared to approach you.

Wolf is holding you so close it feels like your bodies could actually melt together. Your heart is racing and you can feel your stomach twisting and flipping around.

You have to kiss him now. If you don’t, you feel like you’ll run out of oxygen. So you do.

You press your lips against his and you fold when you feel Wolf kissing you back instantly. His hands tighten around your waist, grabbing you so strongly you wonder if his fingers didn’t just go through the fabric of your dress to burn your flesh.

Your lips move slowly, much slower than the first time you kissed, and you let the tip of your tongue touch his bottom lip. Wolf’s mouth slightly opens and a low grunts echoes into your mouth when you start playing with his hair.

This sound of his becomes your favorite, causing you to kiss him harder. Wolf picks up your pace, chasing your lips like a thirsty man.

His hand slowly travels down your body, sending shivers down your spine when his fingers brush against your ass before grabbing the back of your thigh.

You pull away from his lips with a gasp, eyes opened wide. You can already feel yourself blushing, his hand latched around your naked skin like that was where it always belonged.

Wolf’s eyes are half opened but you’re ready to lose all self control when he quite literally bites his lower lip at the sight of your swollen lips, "I really like that dress."

You’re full-on red at this point and you drop your head in the crook of his neck with a chuckle and you can feel him smiling.

You teasingly bump your nose against his when you finally look at him, heart jumping in your throat when Wolf leans forward, brushing your lips with the clear desire to kiss you again.

Fuck, he wants me that bad? you think before you give in, pressing your lips together for a few seconds.

A choked moan is swallowed by Wolf’s throat when you feel his thumb stroking your thigh and you pull away for good before it all becomes too much. You’re outside and he is touching like there is no tomorrow.

You scratch your throat and step back, missing the way Wolf is looking at you. You’re too busy fixing the strap of your dress and soothing the beating of your heart to see Wolf’s stunned eyes and partially opened mouth.

But you do see the way his eyes twitch when you finally make eye contact.

"Wanna go eat?" you offer with a tiny smile dangling on your lips.

He nods before he can even think to breathe.

[marz-rm]

Uploaded some new and old prints on my shop which is now open ! There are also some keychains left and originals. You can shop here

[highlyincorrect]

Upon hearing the good 911 news, I came to a scientific discovery about The Characters™️ (This took 15 minutes of my life)

[conanssummerchild]

im a little ashamed to say that ive seen more donald trump x biden edits to casual by chappell roan than of any other ship 😔

[detective-jane-rizzoli]

#me too 🍷 🍺🍸

[alexandrathegreat5700]

guys remember when dean told cas that he loved him back in the awesome spn finale where everyone lived happily ever after and no one went to super hell???

yeah, me fucking neither.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

The Trouble of Love Languages

Dean Winchester x plus size reader

Dean’s love language is quality time and acts of service while the woman he loves most in this world craves physical touch, which is the one thing he can’t stand.

Warnings: angst to fluff, they’re both in a bit of the wrong here, Dean has touch aversion, arguing, Dean is definitely an asshole with lots of unresolved issues, slightly toxic relationship?, break up, reader is ever so slightly touch starved, lovers to ex’s to lovers again, drinking, crying, comfort, hopeful ending, Sam is a good wingman

WC: 4.7k

Minors DNI

Dean Winchester hated to be touched. After spending all of his life with minimal kind physical touch with the people he cared about, it was no wonder he had an aversion to it. He could put up with a hug or slap on the back to his brother and fleeting kisses to his girlfriend’s cheek or forehead but everything else was off limits.

She did her best with what she got but sometimes, she just wanted to be held against his broad chest and inhale his unique scent of cheap cologne and gunpowder with just a hint of cherry pie. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body pressed tightly to her but her love for the hunter kept those needs locked behind a steel door that she never noticed had begun to rust.

Y/N sighed, putting down the massive book on werewolves that she had been studying for the past few hours. There was a tight band around her head that was slowly drawing tighter and tighter as a killer tension headache set in. She glanced over to the other side of the library where Dean had his feet perched up on the table as he leaned back in his chair, mindlessly sucking one of the lollipops Y/N had bought for Halloween.

He was only wearing a gray henley today instead of his usual many layers of plaids and shirts so she could see, very clearly, the way his muscles moved under the fabric and the slight pudge of his belly. Those dazzling green eyes were fixed on a new edition of some car magazine he picked up on the way back from a hunt. Y/N couldn’t help it.

Slipping from her own chair, she glided over to him. “What’cha reading?” 

“Magazine.” He grunted but she knew he wasn’t being mean, sometimes Dean just didn’t want to talk. Without thinking, she laid her hands on his thick shoulder and gave them a squeeze.

Dean flinched out of her grasp, turning so quickly that Y/N had to take a step back to avoid being knocked over.  His chair clattered to the floor as the library settled into an explosive silence. Y/N knew Dean could be scary, he’s been through so much trauma, seen and experienced things twenty times over that no human should ever have to see or experience even once. He told her of his time in hell and as a demon but promised that she would never be scared of him because he would protect her.

But now, as his chest heaved with heavy breaths, he was positively terrifying. “How many times have I told you not to do that?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “You know I don’t like to be touched and yet you still continue to do it. How long is it going to take before you get it? I. Don’t. Want. To. Touch. You.” His voice was level but filled with anger, a rage she had only seen when he confronted the worst kinds of monsters imaginable.

“Dean I’m sorry I-“ 

“You know maybe we shouldn’t even be together. Time and time again, you do this and you always say you’re sorry and that you won’t do it again but then a couple days later, you do.” Y/N’s heart was breaking right in front of the hunter but he was too blind with fury he couldn’t see it. “I can’t be with someone as fucking needy as you. It’s every goddamn day! I can’t get one second of peace with you being so clingy.”

That was the last straw. Y/N pushed a finger into his chest, shoving him backwards. He knew how insecure she was about her need for affection and constant reassurance, but until now, he never made her feel like it was an inconvenience. “Then yeah we shouldn’t be together. But you’re not going to be the one to break us up, I am. You’re a selfish man Dean Winchester. I don’t ask a lot from you. I ask that you take care of yourself, that you don’t cheat on me, that you treat me with respect and maybe the occasional hug so I don’t feel like one of your one night stands when you roll off of me after sex.

“I deserve someone who wants to be near me, who tries to understand what I need instead of brushing me off because you don’t want to make the effort. I am sick of being treated like a toy you can pick up and put down whenever you want a quick fuck or comfort. So Dean, you got your wish, we’re done.” Y/N turned and stormed off, her eyes burning with tears that didn’t fall until she could no longer hear her now ex destroying the library.

It was sad how quickly her bags were packed, only a duffle bag and a backpack that housed her entire life. She paused as she lifted the flannel she often wore to bed, the red and black fabric was soaked in Dean’s scent and never failed to make her feel safe every time she wore it.

It felt like a reminder of her faults, of all the things wrong with her that he couldn’t put up with. Scoffing, she threw it onto the bed they had shared only a couple hours ago. There was a quick knock on the door jam.

Sam, the gentle giant that he was, leaned on the wood, brown eyes big with concern. “Where’s Dean?” 

“Don’t know, don’t care.” She snapped, quickly zipping up her bag and tossing it over her shoulder, barging past him.

“Hey hey, what’s going on? Did you and Dean have a fight?” He trailed after her like a puppy, sadly watching as she stomped towards the garage which notably was missing the prized Impala. A cruel part of her mind cooed that it was probably parked at some bar where he would find someone better than her. 

“If you can call it that.” She muttered, throwing open the door to her truck and shoving her stuff in. Just as she was about to climb in herself, Sam’s hand wrapped around her forearm to hold her back.

“What happened?” Tears quickly rolled down her full cheeks, wetting the shirt she was wearing as they made their way down her neck. She turned to look at the men who had become her best friend, her voice firm with a slight quiver of sadness. 

“We broke up.”

With a quick pull of her arm, Sam released her and she stepped into the cab of the truck. She rolled down the window, giving him a somber look. “Take care of him, ok. And-“ Y/N debated her next words carefully before speaking again. “Tell him I love him, even if he doesn’t believe it. He needs to know he’s loved.”

And with that, she drove off, leaving behind a very confused Sam and a life that she wished she could have kept.

——————

Another town, another hunt, another bar. That’s how it always went and for a long time, Dean was content to keep it that way. Then she blew into his life like a hurricane, knocking everything off path and forging her own. No more random hookups or drinking beer with every meal. She even made him get rid of all the guns he mounted on the wall in his room.

And now, the hurricane had passed, leaving behind destruction and a hole the shape of her in his heart. But she would not come back, he made sure of that when he called her clingy. He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. He regretted it the moment it left his mouth and watched as the light in her eyes died.

She was gone, because of him, because of his stupidity he lost the best thing that has ever happened to him and the only thing he could do was accept it. So, he went back to his old ways, paving over the path of destruction in his soul the only way he knew how, beer, hunts, and women. 

Sam decided to stay in the motel that night, shooting his older brother a look so devastating that Dean couldn’t meet his eye for fear he would see the disappointment and pity he already felt in himself. But Dean slipped out the door anyway and headed for the closest bar, truly not giving a shit if it was any good or not.

The music was too loud, the lights too dim, the beer too stale. Dean, however, was determined to stay, trying to convince himself that he could go on without her. He downed his first drink quickly, not letting the taste hit his tongue before his glass was drained. Signaling for another one, he rested his elbow against the sticky bar counter.

It was familiar, like returning to your childhood home. But it felt wrong. The voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him to leave, to find her and crawl on his knees begging for forgiveness until she came back. That voice was silenced with another glass of cheap whiskey.

The hand planted on his chest was familiar too. A touch he could tolerate because he knew what came after, sweaty bodies rutting together until that rush of dopamine hit him and he could feel like a normal person for a while. She was pretty, young too and obviously enamoured by the sexy older man with a gruff voice that bought her drinks and made her feel special.

Another drink. She asked him to go back to hers and he agreed, following blindly after her as she led him away. He couldn’t remember the walk to the non descript apartment, only coming back to himself when she took his hand in her own, shooting him a wink that he supposed was meant to be sultry but just served to lessen the ache in his cock. 

Her slender fingers hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, tugging his thin hips into hers and pulled him into her home. The door slammed shut behind him, blindly following her. 

A grunt was knocked from his lungs as she moved him onto her bed, sinking to her knees with hooded eyes. “Lemme take care of you baby.” Her voice was grating on his ears. Dean resisted the urge to flinch when her palms were laid on his muscular thighs.

It was so wrong, a nightmare he couldn’t escape but at the same time, didn’t want to because he wanted to prove something to himself, to validate his anger and his rage at the woman that loved him so much. Dean felt her tug at his belt and was broken from his thoughts.

“Stop. Just stop.” He all but shoved the girl off of him in his haste. 

“What the hell!” She chastised, quite obviously offended at having been rejected by this man that until a few seconds ago, seemed very keen to have a night of fun with her. Dean shook his head and with a muttered ‘sorry’ left her kneeling on the bedroom floor.

“You fucking dick!” She called after him, and he couldn’t help but agree.

——————

Jody’s home was pleasant enough to live in. With home cooked meals every single night and a deluge of girl talk with not only the Sheriff but the two teens in her charge. It was a good distraction for a while, getting caught up in the usual antics of the young women that Y/N imagined Sam and Dean were like when they were younger.

But even the best distractions can only last for a little while. And each night, as she settled into the small bed graciously given to her, Y/N just felt alone. She was out of place here, a passing visitor that had overstayed her welcome long ago. No matter how much Jody may have protested the opposite and Claire and Alex insisted that they loved having her there, this wasn’t Y/N’s home.

Her home had always been Dean. His presence had soothed her soul in a way that nothing had ever done before. She lived for nights where they would drink and laugh themselves silly or when he would prepare her coffee just the way she liked it in the morning. She desperately missed how his face would break out into an uneven and frankly goofy smile when she teased Sam.

In a vain attempt to stop her mind from going down a road that she knew would make her spiral, Y/N shoved her headphones in her ears and blasted a random playlist. The soft guitar and crooning voice so similar to Dean’s had her eyes burning with tears. Her chest ached as she thought about the way he sang to her in the car, his hand on the seat beside her plump thigh, not quite touching her but close enough she knew it was there.

Tears rolled down her temples wetting the pillow beneath her head as she let herself mourn the love she had lost. Her sobs were silent, mere hiccups as she forced herself not to make any noise to alert the others. She couldn’t take anymore of their pitying looks.

She hugged herself tightly as her nails dug into her soft forearms, her chest heaving with her cries. Images of the man she considered her soulmate with another woman sent her deeper down the rabbit hole of self-despair. She could only imagine what he had gotten up to in the weeks since she left and it was driving her crazy.

The song faded out, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts for a second too long. The brightness of the screen blinded her for just a moment before she clicked on the last text exchange in her phone.

I love you sweetheart

The low buzz of the outgoing call rumbled against her chest where she placed her phone face down. In the silence between each ring, she was doubting her decision more and more. Why should she reach out first when he was the one that broke them? 

“Hello?” His raspy voice came out crackled through her head phones, making her heart jump slightly. 

“S-sorry butt dial.” She panicked, quickly hanging up but not before hearing him call out, “Wait! Plea-“ Y/N threw her phone onto the pile of her clothes in the corner of the room, ignoring how it was now ringing again, a photo of her and Dean lighting the screen.

Sleep did not come easily that night even after her cries ceased, her eyes finally fluttering closed as the sun began to peak over the horizon, dousing the room in a soft pink.

——————

It was rare that music didn’t play in the Impala. There was almost always a constant stream of classic rock that spewed from the radio, yet the silence was more overwhelming than the usual loud songs Dean sang along to. 

Sam was deeply concerned for his older brother. He knew the break up hit him hard, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, but the younger Winchester didn’t think it was this bad. Dean reeked of the same whiskey he religiously drank after they lost Bobby. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, the Impala, his prized possession looked dull and lifeless, caked with dirt and dead bugs.

Dean hadn’t shaved in the weeks since she left so he now sported a semi-impressive beard which Sam attempted to make fun of just the same as his own facial hair had been but Dean had merely grunted and ignored him. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” He attempted to start a conversation.

“Jody’s.”

“Why?” The one word answers were nothing new, but at least he was talking. Dean’s green eyes flicked briefly over to his brother before returning to the road. 

“Hunt.” Sam sighed, slumping back against the leather bench of the car, his focus shifting to the world that was speeding past them. He was sick of this self-pitying attitude that was slowly driving the older man to madness when it could be solved so easily.

“If you pulled your head out of your ass, you could get her back.” The air in the car turned to ice. “Don’t act like I didn’t hear you frantically calling her last night.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He growled, knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. But Sam kept pushing.

“She’s the best thing to have ever happened to you and you just let her leave. Or maybe you just never loved her since you went home with someone only a week ago, that’s why you didn’t put up a fight.” 

“Shut up Sam.” Sam, that should have made him worry. He was only called Sam when Dean was pissed and on the edge of an almost toddler-like melt down. 

“I’m just saying, if you really wanted to, and I mean really really wanted to, she would forgive you. But you don’t want to make the effort.” The tires screamed as Dean pulled off the road with a flick of his wrists. Sam was jerked sideways with the force but then was sent the other direction as Dean fisted the front of his flannel and shoved him back against the car door.

His eyes were wild with fury and his next words came out in a snarl. “I can’t get her back. Don’t you understand that. I just can’t.”

“Why not?” He pushed, desperate to get his brother to finally come to his senses. “You know she loves you and that she would do anything for you. What made this fight so terrible?”

“Because I can’t touch her!” The silence quickly returned as Sam tried to comprehend what he was just told. “I can’t touch her Sammy.” Dean was on the edge of tears. He released his shirt from his grasp like the fabric had burnt him and buried his head in his hands.

Sam had never witnessed Dean like this before, like his world was crumbling down before him and he wasn’t doing anything to stop it because he had just given up. No matter the circumstances or insurmountable odds that had faced him, he always pushed through with his can-do attitude and unwavering loyalty to those he loved. But now he was being consumed by a hopelessness so many monsters had attempted to instill in him but never could.

He was heartbroken and suffering. He lost the woman who knew his soul and yet still loved him. Sam knew what that despair felt like, to have such a great love ripped away and not giving yourself time to lament on that loss. 

“Dean.” He started but was quickly interrupted.

“I couldn’t give her what she deserved. I couldn’t be that loving boyfriend she wanted so badly. I couldn’t even fucking hug her without feeling like I wanted to push her away. And I knew it was hurting her but she was right, I am selfish. I wanted her to myself even if I could see her slowly dying inside.”

The sun was quickly setting over the brothers, the reds and purples giving way to a deep blue. They watched, for a moment, as the stars began to appear and the darkness surrounded them. “I’ve hurt so many people in my life. My hands have been stained red with blood for so long and she was the one person I couldn’t stand to hurt. Yet I hurt her so badly that she ran away from me.”

“But you do want her back don’t you?”

Tearful green eyes looked back at him. “More than anything.”

“Then we need to make a pitstop, I have an idea.”

——————

Y/N couldn’t help but notice Jody’s worried glances towards the front door as they ate dinner. “Alright Mills, that’s the eighth time you’ve looked at the door in five minutes. What’s going on? Do you have a secret lover coming over?” Claire snorted in her drink but quickly recovered as her surrogate mom shot her a glare.

“No, I do not have a secret lover. Thank you very much. I’m just waiting for a package.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at the older woman, still incredibly doubtful.

“It’s almost 10 at night, why would a package be delivered this late?” 

“Well, I-“ The doorbell rang, saving her from having to give another lame excuse. “Excuse me a moment, there’s my package.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at the Sheriff, not saying anything else.

Alex sighed, shaking her head, like she was in on some conspiracy that Jody had set up. “Have you got anything to add?” Y/N teased.

“Nope, nothing at all. Isn’t that right Claire?” Said girl, who was sitting to Y/N’s left, just huffed and took another large bite of her food.

Y/N ignored the muffled voices coming from the entryway, assuming that Jody, being her usual friendly self, was making conversation with whoever was at the door. Then, “hey girls, I need your help for a minute.” And without so much as a groan of annoyance, both teens stood and rushed from the room.

Before Y/N could follow after them, she heard the front door slam shut and the obvious sound of a car engine starting up and then driving away. “What the hell?” Just as she stood from the table to investigate, a large figure blocked the doorway.

“Dean?” 

“Hi sweetheart.” She melted at the sound of his voice clearly after so long and not through the crackly and broken version she heard through the dozens of voicemails he left her the night before. She itched to run into his strong arms but remained in place, her hand absentmindedly falling to the table, laying her palm flat against the butter knife she had been using. “I hope you’re not planning on using that on me.”

Dean gestured to her hand in a joking manner but only succeeded in making her scowl at him. “You look like shit.” He winced at her tone.

“I deserved that.”

“You deserve a lot worse. What the hell do you want Winchester?” Dean sighed. His body tilted forward, like he wanted to get closer. Running a hand through his hair, which was slightly longer than he normally kept it, his eyes dropped to the ground.

Y/N watched as he deflated, the usually stoic image of the hunter before her crumbling to dust and leaving a man that looked truly broken. “I didn’t mean to call you clingy.” Straight to business, good. She thought.

“But you did. And you did it knowing full well how I feel about that word.” Unconsciously, her voice softened as he nodded along to what she was saying.

“I know and I’m sorry about that. I’m- fuck- I’m sorry about everything.” Y/N didn’t object when he took a tentative step forward and she cursed her body for not recoiling as he drew closer. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to move away. “I wish I could be the man you want, the one you deserve, but I’m not and I don’t think I will ever be.”

“Not really selling your case here Dean.” 

“Just- just let me get to my point and then you can cuss me out. I love you and I want to change for you. I want to get better at touching you and I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you home. Besides Sammy’s been pouting a lot without you there and it’s getting really fucking annoying.” Of course the man couldn’t get through a serious discussion without being a dumbass.

Dean stood inches from her now, and Y/N could see how his hands trembled, either from anxiety or the copious amounts of alcohol she smelt from him, she didn’t know. “I don’t want you to change, Dean. I love you for who you are but you really hurt me and-“

“I know.” He cut her off. “I know and I want to make it right, if you’ll let me.” His green eyes shone with tears

“Goddamn you and your stupid puppy dog eyes.” She grumbled. Dean smirked. “Alright! Jesus, we can try again but I expect so much fucking grovelling, like ten times more than I had to do when I accidentally ate the last slice of pecan pie.”

He smiled and nodded, placing his hand on the dining room table mere millimeters from her own. “Anything you want sweetheart.” 

“And no sex for the foreseeable future, not even over the clothes stuff.” He winced at that but still, his smile did not waver.

“And, and, fuck I can’t think of anything else with you looking at me like that.” She whined and turned her head so she didn’t have to look into his eyes anymore. Y/N gasped as a finger hooked under her chin, guiding her gaze back to the man she still loved so much. His smile was even softer now, almost dopey with love.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means never getting to see you in anything less than fully clothed for the rest of my life and giving you all of my pie. I just need you, sweetheart.” His forehead dropped to her own, the tips of their noses brushing together in an act so intimate it made her chest burn with affection.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” The question hung heavily in the air, pressing down on both of their chests like a massive weight. Dean breathed out harshly through his nose and Y/N froze, already fearing his answer, she began to pull away. But without any hesitation, his right arm wound around her thick waist and tugged her into his chest. Caught off guard, Y/N planted her hands on his chest.

She felt the way his body tensed beneath her palms, still so unused to being touched but he didn’t let her go like he would have before. “The short answer: no.”

“And the long answer?” Her throat felt like it was closing up with the onslaught of tear building behind her eyes.

“A girl brought me back to her place and tried to go down on me but I didn’t even kiss her. I left before she got my belt off.” Unable to stop herself, Y/N chuckled.

“You just left?”

Dean’s cheeks coloured with a rare flush. “Yeah, I walked out the door and she was still on her knees calling me a dick.”

“Well she was right about that.” And they stayed like that for a moment, letting themselves be reminded about how much they loved each other. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, Dean stepped away.

“Wait here, I have something for you.” With a few long strides, he left the room and then quickly reappeared holding a canvas bag with the phrase ‘act like a lady, think like a boss’ printed on the side in big, bold lettering. “Don’t diss the bag sweetheart.”

And before she could snark something back, he pulled a teddy bear from the bag. The bear seemed to be a regular plush at first glance, but when Dean handed it to her, Y/N couldn’t help but smile brightly. The toy easily weighed 5 pounds and suspiciously smelt of Dean’s cologne. “I thought that this could be a substitute for when you want to cuddle. But this is temporary, cause I will get better. He’s just a placeholder.”

“He?” 

“Yeah.” He sighed happily. “Little Dean Jr.” Holding the bear tighter to her chest, Y/N stood on her tiptoes and finally planted her lips on his. Her skin burned as the soft kiss quickly turned more passionate and his newly grown beard scraped against her. Fingers curled into his hair, Y/N yanked him even closer as Dean’s hands fell to her generous ass, giving her cheeks a light squeeze.

Reluctantly, she pulled away first, her lungs screaming for oxygen and her brain telling her that if she kissed him any more, she would end up in the back seat of Baby with her legs over his shoulders. “This is a start. But I will not have you talk to me like that again. If you do, I’m gone and you won’t ever see me again.”

“I promise, I’ll do better.” Content with his answer, Y/N pecked his swollen lips. 

“The bear was Sam’s idea wasn’t it?”

“But I named him!” 

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[white-fox-1415]

Welcome!

I am fairly new to writing fanfic and still getting the hang of it, but if you have any ideas for one shots, imagines, headcannons, etc, feel free to request in my inbox :)

[can’t guarantee I’ll respond tho]

As of now, I’ll probably only be writting for:

Jensen ackles characters [Soldier Boy, Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Boaz Preistly]

Miles Teller characters [Bradley Bradshaw, Peter Hayes (hate to love him tbh)]

Glen Powell characters [Ben (anyone but you), Tyler Owens, Jake Seresin,Chad Radwell]

141 men + Alex Keller (COD MW2)

Scott Miller (Twisters)

Maybe some Captain America? 👀

Or Aaron Taylor Johnson characters? 👀👀

[dumb-zombie-girl]

I'm writing a supernatural fix it fic in my notes app and when i get done would anyone be interested in me posting it on here?

[dark-vader28]

Who I’ll write for:

Alex Turner

Rodrick Heffley

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Castiel

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan

Peter Parker

Marty McFly

Michael afton

Billy Loomis

Mickey Alteri

Soldier Boy

Stephen Glass

Clay Beresford

Dexter Morgan

Brian Moser

Joe Goldberg

———

send me requests so i actually get the damn motivation to write :)