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lsunstreakerl · 2 days ago

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part six of the maxiel corporate au! 2.1k words, alternating max POV and daniel POV.

there's actually not any explicit content here- it's a little bit more plot focused.

Max needs to get out of bed. He needs to get up, and shower, and eat something- but he's been thinking that on a loop for a few hours now, and still hasn't done anything.

He's not sure why he feels so off, but it's made him burrow further into the bed, wrapping his arms around one of his pillows, holding it to his chest.

He feels-

He's not sure. He's sore, and he's a little bit sad for no discernible reason. Last night had been good, even if Max doesn't distinctly remember the later part of the night- doesn't remember getting home, just knows he'd woken up with a sore ass and legs, work clothes dropped on the floor, wearing unfamiliar sweatpants.

He remembers the car ride, going into Daniel's condo- remembers his legs being held apart, Daniel's fingers inside of him- but after he'd started actually getting fucked is where things get hazy.

Waking up to a text from Scarlett letting him know he's got the day off had been confusing, and then mortifying, but Max is glad for it now- he doesn't think he'd do very good work today, not with the way he's feeling.

Normally he's one of the first ones to leave from his complex's floor. He knows that because their walls are paper thin, and they can all hear each other when someone drops something and swears. There's four of them on Max's floor- him and Rico have been here the longest, neighbors since their first year of uni. Martin moved in a few months after Max and Rico, and Isack is the newest- the baby of the floor, moved in last year as he started uni.

Max normally leaves first. Max also never misses work. He knows it, and he knows they know it too, which is why he's not terribly surprised when there's a knock on his door.

He doesn't want to get up and open it.

There's a few rattles of the handle, and then the somewhat familiar metallic noise of Rico just using his own key.

They'd figured out they had the same lock a few months into being neighbors after a drunken mishap, and now they're friends, so there's been no reason to change that.

Max lifts his head as he hears the front door open and shut. His flat isn't huge- a studio- so it only takes a moment for Rico to poke his head around the corner.

He always looks like a behemoth next to Max's things, but he's reassuring at the moment, green eyes watching Max with concern.

"Hey."

Max presses his lips together, dropping his head back onto the pillow.

"Hi."

Rico toes his shoes off as he makes his way over, snagging the Playstation controllers, and then he's poking at Max's side until he rolls, making space on the bed for Rico to crawl in next to him.

He settles, and then he's wrapping an arm around Max, pulling him into his side.

"FIFA?"

This is why Max and Rico are friends.

"FIFA."

------

Daniel is chewing on the end of his pencil when Blake walks in. He's carrying a chair, which means he's got something Daniel actually needs to pay attention to.

"Sir Friend, how can I assist you?"

Blake sets the chair down heavy on the floor, dropping into it across from Daniel.

"I think Netco is lying about their earnings somewhere- but I've had me and my people on it all damn day and we can't figure out where."

That's... not the kind of thing Daniel likes to hear.

"Well shit. What do you need from me?"

Blake's spinning his own pencil between his fingers, letting it drag over his knuckles.

"You mean you can't just magically figure it out? What are CEO's even for?"

Daniel laughs, leaning back in his chair.

"I mean, I could ask them point blank if they're lying, but..."

Blake snorts.

"I get the impression they wouldn't come clean now."

Daniel frowns. He's trying to think, looking back on his most recent meetings. Everyone's been friendly, but no one's been suspicious.

Oh, on that note-

"Damn, I guess that means that discrepancy didn't go anywhere then."

Blake pauses, pencil stilling.

"What discrepancy."

"Uh, the one Max mentioned? A couple days ago."

Blake makes a face.

"And it was up here, so obviously you didn't fucking ask him about it- Daniel, you can be infuriating sometimes. No, I didn't even know there was a discrepancy- that could be genuinely useful, you horny cunt."

Daniel holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"I assumed you guys were all on the same page!"

Blake pinches the bridge of his nose, breathes out a long sigh.

"Clearly not. Can you call him in?"

"Blake, mate, I gave him the day off. Be pretty shit of me to call him in."

Blake narrows his eyes.

"Be even shitter to get stuck in a bad deal. Think with your brain and not your dick, please."

Daniel makes a face, but he's clicking around, getting into Max's file to find his cell number.

He makes sure to punch it in correctly, and it rings for a moment. It's the late afternoon by now- Max should be fine.

"Max Verstappen's phone, can I take a message?"

Daniel's brain freezes. It's a male voice, deep and accented.

Thankfully, he's been doing this for so many years now that despite the fact that his brain is stalling, his mouth still works.

"This is Daniel Ricciardo- who am I speaking with?"

"Rico Verhoeven."

Daniel scrawls the name down absentmindedly.

"Hello Rico. Is Max available? It's a bit urgent."

"He can be- one moment."

Daniel catches the sound of some shuffling, and then for a moment he wonders if he's having a stroke- but it's just the faint murmurs of another language. He faintly hears Max on the end, a mumbled 'Rico?' That sounds soft and sleepy.

Daniel's not going to think about it.

There's another moment of shuffling, and then the phone is picked up again.

"This is Max speaking."

He still sounds drowsy, but it's definitely Max this time.

"Hey Max, it's Daniel. What'd you end up doing with that report the other day, with the merger discrepancy you mentioned?"

Max makes a sleepy hum.

"The copy stayed with you, sir. But I have a backup on my desktop I could reprint, if you need it."

"That would be great- do you need me to call you a car?"

"Uh- one second sir."

More soft murmurs- it's the other language again.

"I have a ride. I will be there in twenty minutes."

Daniel's grip on his pencil tightens for a moment.

"Sounds great. Tell Rico I said thanks- and he's more than welcome to come in and say hi."

Blake is giving him a very clear "what the fuck, Daniel" face, but he chooses to ignore it.

"Oh, uh- thank you sir. I will let him know you offered."

"See you in a few, Maxy."

Daniel hangs up, and Blake is arching an eyebrow at him.

"What the fuck, Daniel?"

------

It only takes Rico and Max fifteen minutes to arrive- Daniel and Blake are up on the fourth floor again, near the walkway. It has a good vantage point to the entryway on the ground level.

Daniel is lazily watching the door, but it's Blake that spots them first- chokes on a half laugh and then pats Daniel's shoulder consolingly.

"There's your fucking competition mate, jesus."

Daniel's eyes dart to the door, and then widen comically. There is a giant standing next to Max.

A very built giant. Max is tiny next to him- and he's chatting enthusiastically about something, hands having half the conversation for him.

Rico is listening patiently as they start taking the stairs, content to let Max talk regarding whatever it is he's on about.

Daniel doesn't get intimidated easily- it's something you get over quick, as a CEO- but Rico...

The man looks like he can fight. Max hadn't mentioned any kind of boyfriend- and he'd both claimed to be and behaved like a virgin last night- but Daniel isn't interested in "accidentally" running into Rico in an alleyway.

Max is walking today far better than Daniel had expected him to, though he's not in business casual- just jeans and a quarter zip. He spots Blake and waves, and then when he sees Daniel his cheeks heat up, head ducking slightly.

Blake elbows him gently when they both straighten up as Max and Rico get closer.

"Nice knowing ya, Dan."

"Shut up."

Max crosses the walkway, and Rico seems even bigger in person, towers head and shoulders above the others.

Blake, brave man, steps forward first.

"Max, thank you so much for coming in on your day off- I appreciate it."

Max flashes him a smile, stepping around him to log onto the monitor.

"It is no problem."

Blake extends his hand to Rico.

"You must be Rico- I'm Blake Friend, CFO. This is Daniel Ricciardo, CEO."

Rico shakes his hand, and then turns to take Daniel's, and there's a brief moment where he wonders if his life is about to flash in front of his eyes.

Rico's gaze lingers on him for a moment. He has intense green eyes, and Daniel gets the distinct feeling that he isn't very impressed.

"I appreciate you offering to bring to Max in- that was kind of you."

Rico sets his hands in his pockets.

"It is of course not a problem, to help Max."

Max makes a cooing noise from behind the computer, shooting a grin at Rico. It's startlingly bright, more real than anything Daniel has seen from him before- it scrunches his eyes up.

"Aw, Rico- don't be sappy."

Rico just smiles back at him.

There's the sound of the printer starting up, and Max logs out, looking over at Daniel and Blake.

"I have it set to reprint the report and the more detailed logs for the incidents I was looking at, if you wanted those also."

Daniel didn't even know there were detailed logs.

"Thank you, Max. We appreciate that. Enjoy the rest of your day off, yeah?"

Max nods- still can't quite meet his eyes, and Daniel would normally find that cute- and it is- but Rico's presence makes him hesitate to tease.

"It was no problem, sir."

Blake exchanges a few more pleasantries with them both as Daniel gathers the reports off of the printer, and then the two of them are leaving.

Blake turns back to Daniel.

"That man is fucking terrifying, mate."

Daniel makes a face.

"Tell me about it."

------

Rico is nice enough to wait until they're back in the car before he opens his mouth.

"This is why are you sad."

Max busies himself organizing the spare change in the cup holders.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Rico makes a disbelieving noise.

"Really? You wouldn't get out of bed, couldn't walk straight until we did stretches, and now the man that you've been calling 'sir' over the phone- you can't even look him in the eyes."

Max crumples a stray straw wrapper into a small ball.

"Those things can be unrelated."

"But they aren't, are they? You got fucked by your boss."

Rico pauses.

"Your CEO."

"Okay, I know it sounds bad-"

"That's because it is, Max."

"-but it is not as terrible as it sounds. It was very good, actually."

Rico drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

"He thinks I'm your boyfriend, by the way."

Max squeaks.

"What?"

Rico is laughing, broad hand reaching over to tangle in Max's hair. It's nothing like when Daniel does it- Rico's hand is broad where Daniel's is narrow, fingers wide where Daniel's are thin.

"Yes, he definitely does. I answered your phone and drove you in- he absolutely thinks we are together."

Max makes a very obvious glance to Rico's lap.

"Mate, we could not be together. There is a variety of reasons, but especially that one."

It takes two seconds of silence before they're both giggling. Max has seen Rico's dick before- there was an unfortunate month where the pipes would randomly stop working, so they'd swapped showers a few times- and Max can now say, having had sex, that Rico is too fucking big.

"Have fun getting that cleared up."

Max winces. He doesn't want to think about it- he's perfectly content to make that a tomorrow problem.

Rico puts the car in park, but he turns to look at Max, rests a hand on his arm.

"If he does something, or you want out, or anything- just tell me, yes? We will figure it out."

Max reaches over the center console to hug him, arms wrapping around his sides. He's always felt protected with Rico- he can practically hide in his shadow.

He knows he can rely on Rico, but what he's got going on with Daniel- whatever it's called- isn't bad. Just new.

"Thank you."

Rico squeezes him tighter.

"Anytime."

#maxiel corporate au #ficlet #men will fall asleep in their best bros lap playing fifa before talking about their feelings

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waynes-multiverse · 16 hours ago

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Oh, oh, oh, Beth… I fucking loved this way too much. You have absolutely no idea how much I laughed. My husband thought I was nuts 😂🫶

This series brought me literally so much joy and laughs. You’re simply amazing for writing it 🩵🩵🩵

He’d been de-aged, lost his memory, kidnapped in his car and had her chase him twice, so if anything, this shouldn’t be a surprise. This kind of shit always happened to Dean.

It does! It really does 😂

And omfg poor Sam is scarred for the rest of his life by the lewd images he’s seen. No one should see their roommates in this state, let alone their own brother 🙈 But I laughed throughout his trials (and fails) of text messages to Eileen, although I still believe the woman would have a good, long laugh about all of this, and if anything, would be chiding Sam for not providing her with all the goddamn gloriously embarrassing details 🤣

They were not calling Cas. Keeping Jack occupied was hard enough without another angel not understanding how consequential Dean and you having sex under a curse could be.

Bless him for trying to entertain the angelic toddler 😂

But I had a feeling as soon as Sam send little, naive Jack to check on the lions (in heat) in the den, that sneaky Dean would find a way to trick the poor kid. Oh, well, let the smutty goodness begin 😈🔥

And Jack’s whole monologue about the technicalities of sex just about killed me, jfc 🤣🤣🤣 (Plus that little bonus comedic moment of the kid being turned on by reader was just pure gold)

Yeah. Dean was proud of himself. Oh-ho, yeah, he was, and his smirk only grew wider as Jack’s footsteps trailed away.

You outsmarted a four-year-old, doofus. God, this man 😂

Seeing Dean’s junk, seeing you touch yourself, seeing an old wood nymph cry.

Snorted way too hard at Mrs. Butters crying and imagining Sam’s bitch face when he found her 🤣 He can’t catch a break, can he?

Wrapped in hugs? No. That thing, with its excessive amount of fabric, wrapped Dean up like a chastity belt

The fact he’s wearing the actual fucking purple nightgown throughout all of this hotness just adds an extra layer of hilarity I really appreciate lmao

“And you believed him?” Yeah, Sam was wrong. Cas might’ve been useful. At least he wasn’t so gullible.

True. Sam’s just straight up babysitting one toddler, two horny teens and a demented granny tonight 😂

“So that means Dean just needs to ejaculate inside her?” Jack chimed in before Sam could, seeming very proud of his speculation, and, yeah, that did it. Sam was going to bed. Part of him wanted to know why she’d done it, but he’d had enough.

Dead 💀

Least, it was for you. This all happened because of a stupid spell. Something well beyond your control. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to fuck you before all this. He’d never even made a move on you until now, and now didn’t count.

Why am I getting teary-eyed? 🥲

I’m so glad they worked it out, though. *sighs wistfully* idiots in love 😍💕

And I happily take a fourth serving of snickerdoodles! 🩵

Consequences for Mrs. Butters, though? Let her soak in a bathtub full of Dean’s cum for 24hrs while doing one of those eye doctor letter tests? 🤔 Yeah, that’ll do. I’m sure Sam will go for it at this point 😝

SNICKERDOODLES & SPECIAL SAUCE

Part 3: Good Things Come in Threes

Story Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: 'Twas the night of fake Christmas and all through the halls, creatures were stirring, eventually on all fours... or ...Mrs Butters isn't just messing with Dean's underwear drawer. She's messing with your love lives, too. 18+ only

Word Count: 5.7k words (multiple POV)

Tags/Warnings: crack, friends to lovers, love potion, language, dubious consent, pining, eggnog, Mrs Butters is a terrible wingman, SMUT—————————————————————PART 1 || PART 2 || Part 3 || Read on AO3

Part 3: Good Things Come in Threes

…and Dean have been hit by some kind of lust spell, the message read, but Sam hit the backspace, scrapping it all. He tapped that screen almost as fast as your finger had done under your panties when he—nope!! He wasn’t going there.

He couldn’t send a message like that to Eileen, either. It would just lead to more questions, and he didn’t want to think about the situation, let alone go over the details of it all. Didn’t matter that Dean’s arm pumping action was enough to douse any fire, now and in the future.

Yeah. Dean. It was better to tell her about him, so, Dean’s been cursed, he tried, leaving out the part about you being hit with it, too.

Only, what if it got out you had? What if someone let slip what the actual curse was, and how Sam had walked in on you both?

He sighed and erased the text again, typing out, Mrs Butters is missing, instead. It didn’t explain Dean desperately calling him away from their phone call, but it was the truth.

God. Why was this so hard?

Because it’s Dean, he chided.

He’d been de-aged, lost his memory, kidnapped in his car and had her chase him twice, so if anything, this shouldn’t be a surprise. This kind of shit always happened to Dean.

His thumbs hovered over the screen, still contemplating what he should type next, when Jack appeared in his peripheral, popping out from the junction in the long corridor.

He shuffled down the hall towards Sam with a worried look on his face. All that twinkled overhead, lighting up the stray pieces of glitter he’d caught on his forehead and cheeks.

If only the wood nymph had left a trail through the remaining sparkles on the floor. Little heel shapes would be mighty helpful to find her, but no. It’s like she’d vanished into thin air.

“Hey,” Sam said, and hit send. He was quick to add, Dean pissed her off, and sent it straight after. “Any luck?”

He looked up just in time for Jack to step into his personal space. His drained eyes, hopeful and ready to cling to any good news Jack threw his way. Anything was better than the fat-load of nothing he had to show for.

But, “No,” Jack said, brow creasing in the middle in concentration. “And I checked all the closets and opened all the cubicle doors just like you told me to. Maybe we should call Cas?”

They were not calling Cas. Keeping Jack occupied was hard enough without another angel not understanding how consequential Dean and you having sex under a curse could be.

“Yeah. No, ah. You know what?” Sam shoved his phone back into his pocket and rejigged his Taurus in his hand. “Why don’t you check on them? Make sure Dean’s ropes are still tight.” He found Jack’s eyes and gave him his best reassuring smile, ignoring the niggle in his gut that knew Dean was a flight risk and probably busted out already.

“What about you?”

Sam cocked his gun and patted Jack on the shoulder. “She came out when Dean hit the reset button. I’m gonna see if I can lure her out by shutting this place down.”

And with that, Sam left Jack, and Jack headed towards the library, a little apprehensive about going in alone. Being told to check the ropes, even though he could smite Dean if he wanted to, was no easy feat. He respected him a great deal.

He was strong, knowledgeable about the world, and had taught him a lot. They’d even got around to “the talk,” so Jack was also knowledgeable about what was happening in the bunker that night.

Dean’s body, not the spell.

No, Jack had no idea why everything was happening as it was.

Just the physicalities.

He knew all about courting and fucking and the differences and similarities between them. It was all thanks to Dean. They hadn’t covered masturbation because Dean had said, “he was better left on his own there,” but Jack understood the basics of what Dean was going through.

Blood was pumping through Dean’s penis. He’d busted his nut three times (Sam had stopped him on the fourth), and was still erect now. Oh. And in pain. Which was difficult to understand because Jack had only ever experienced an erection when he woke up and it had just gone away on its own.

But he also didn’t sleep much, and he shrugged, considering his options as he walked the halls to you.

He wanted to ask Dean what it felt like. He was curious about you too, but from their talk, he knew not to ask you anything relating to your breasts or your vagina. It was okay to ask your partner, but it wasn’t okay to ask someone you weren’t courting, dating, or fucking.

Right. Yes. That’s definitely what Dean had said.

Coming from the lower levels meant Jack came into the war room via the eastern corridor, on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Besides the vibrant tree, still littered underneath with presents no one was supposed to open yet, it was Dean he spotted first.

His legs, from his calves to his ankles, were tied to his seat and not outstretched, as you’d expect. There was no manspreading going on, as you would say, either.

No. He was far from his usual relaxed self, calling out Jack’s name in irritation. Unbeknownst that his attempt to hide his relief was thwarted by Jack’s keen senses.

Jack rounded the edge of the map table and stepped up the stairs with a patter and a frown. Losing the squeaks his sneakers made when moving from the polished floors to wood always disappointed him.

“Hello Dean,” he said back to the hunter, hand waving in greeting, before setting his sights on you.

You looked no better. Eyes half lidded. Chest heaving. The skin that dipped below the neck of your shirt was lined with sweat, and tracing the curves of your breasts made Jack’s stomach feel funny. It also made his throat dry.

Why did it do that?

He popped his ears. Tried clicking his tongue and swallowing, but neither helped and his voice came out croaky like a frog’s. “Sam asked me to check on you both.” He rubbed his lips together.

“And where is Sam?” Dean asked. His sarcasm wasn’t missed. “Have you found her yet?”

“No. But he’s going to try the boiler room.”

An ominous clank cut Dean off mid eye roll. The lights cut him off, too. Well, the lamps and ceiling ones around the library and beyond in the halls did, but not Mrs Butters’ Christmas tree. It shone brighter. Rivaled only by the baubles, looped, and still blinking, ‘round the balustrades and staircase.

You could hear a pin drop if it weren’t for the train’s whistle and Dean’s groan. “For the love of… What’s he planning to do?”

“Reversing you doofuses letting her out, obviously,” you said with a wheeze, and Jack decided it was time to get to work on the ropes. He did not want to be here any longer than he needed to be.

Dean was angry. You weren’t much better, but you were the best choice to start checking. The low lighting thankfully covered your breasts, but it wouldn’t for long. “She’s nowhere to be found.” He pulled on the ties that held your arms in place. “Sam thought she might appear if he tried restarting her.”

“Restart,” Jack felt Dean’s aura flare. He heard the blood as it pumped through his veins. “Okay, you know what? Jack, you need to untie me right now.”

“I can’t do that, Dean.” He wouldn’t. Sam had told him to check the ropes and make sure Dean was secured, and it was imperative that he did. “Sam said you two needed to stay separated.”

“And Sammy needs your help more than we do. Angel trumps wood nymph.”

“But I’m a nephilim.” And he was very confused.

“Yeah. Okay, sure. Son of Lucifer,” Dean quipped, but soon changed his tone to one of pleading. “Look. We’ll behave, alright? I promise.”

He promised? Dean never promised. At least he never used the word itself. He hadn’t exactly promised when he’d said they’d have the talk, and he’d kept his word then, so maybe it would be okay?

“She’s not looking too good there, Jack,” Dean added, and it was true, you weren’t.

Your breathing was slow and shallow. A sheen of sweat covered your forehead on top of your breasts now, and Jack could feel the heat radiating off of your body.

“Speak for yourself,” you said, but it was so quiet and lacking your usual pep, Jack’s stomach flipped. His mind did, too.

He stood tall and turned to face Dean. His eyes narrowed as they had when he’d questioned Sam’s plan in the first place.

He could trust Dean, couldn’t he?

Yes. Yes. Of course he could, and he nodded. “I’ll go back to Sam,” he said, and without even checking on Dean’s arms, rushed away to the boiler room to help there. Mrs Butters needed to be found, after all.

In his haste to be useful, however, even though he’d been reading both your auras; even though he’d heard Sam’s spiel about how dangerous the situation was; Jack was oblivious to the smirk that graced Dean’s face the second his back was turned.

Yeah. Dean was proud of himself. Oh-ho, yeah, he was, and his smirk only grew wider as Jack’s footsteps trailed away.

He’d been working on the ropes since the moment Sam had left the room. In control enough to know you were off limits, not enough that he could stay here any longer. Nope. He’d been watching your rack, too, though unlike Jack it’d been more than a few seconds, and he was not going there with you. Not when he’d probably come the second his dick got wet.

He had a reputation to uphold. That and you’d never let him live it down, knowing you. He’d be the butt of your jokes for as long as he lived.

So, rather than bothering to talk or check in with you, he let his dick and its needs lead. As soon as Jack left, he got back to it, shimmying his wrists back and forth, only it wasn’t doing much good.

Stupid nightgown. Why the hell hadn’t he put on his jeans and jacket? Oh right. Because then it would’ve chafed. Caught on fire like flint and tinder.

Screw this. The floor was below him and with enough force, he’d break the chair just like he’s done in Texas. Sam and Jack wouldn’t notice that with all the concrete, rebar and wiring layered between them and him, giving Dean plenty of time to escape. Plus, the boiler room was at the other end of the joint.

Perfect!

He tested the waters, pushing his toes into the polished wood below them, and when he was certain he wouldn’t add injury to the insult, he braced himself.

‘Okay,’ he breathed out a puff of air. ‘You can do this, Deano.’

Huh. Deano? Your nickname for him was cute, but why the hell was he using it? He was gonna count to three, but after that he gave up and just went for it.

He gripped the right arm of his seat and swung himself to the left, lifting the leg an inch if he was lucky. Shouldn’t have had that second helping of turkey or ham.

He sighed louder than the first time, eyes flicking to you when he realised you’d said nothing since Jack left. Not even a squeak of surprise at the thump he’d made.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” He had trouble pulling himself away from your rack to your chin. “Sweetheart?” he tried again, and a small choke answered him.

You see, while Dean was doing alright, you weren’t so much. It was bad enough Sam’d tied you up, but leaving you smack bang across the table from him was the stupidest, most inconsiderate thing Sam had ever done.

You were going to kill him. You were no longer sorry Mrs Butters had told you his business. Eileen deserved her privacy. Sam did not.

Just being in Dean’s presence had doubled the pain. You thought it was excruciating before? Hah! Think again.

You’d dropped your head just to avoid his sultry gaze. A mix of concern and dilated pupils you’d mistake for him being high had it not been seeing him equally affected by whatever she’d done to you.

“It hurts, De.”

Your white knuckles and sweaty palms held on too tight to the arms of the chair. Damn. That Pink song knew a thing or two, even if the lyrics and your body had differing opinions.

You didn’t want Dean to blow you one last kiss. No. Oh no. You’d settle for blowing him, or better yet, him blowing his warm breath over you because everything was on fire. The depths of your panties, the worst. The stiff wood under your ass and your pyjama shorts weren’t doing nothing for you. Neither were your knees rubbing together.

“Would you quit it?” Dean growled, and the echo went straight there.

A shiver. A trickle. A shock? Whatever it was, your cooch clenched tight to trap it and you had to stifle the moan you almost couldn’t.

Fuck. Your head wanted to explode. Your front teeth bit so darn hard into the meat of your lower lip, they grazed the bottom set below them.

“It really hurts,” you said again, as if saying so was the magic chant you needed to tell the spell uncle.

“Yeah, well. You squirming like that ain’t exactly a picnic for me, either.”

The gravel in his voice had your head flicking back up. It moved to follow his staring at your boobs.

Your nipples, unlike in the kitchen earlier, were now visible through your sleep shirt. Hard and perky. You’d be insulted, but all you saw besides the lights flashing in the other room was a dick on legs, and what it could do for you.

Those fingers of his, just below the ledge of the table. Those lips, pink and plump, rivaled only by his tongue that swiped over them, could wrap around the girls any day, and, “Fuck.” Your body shuddered through the long squeak it released, elongating the word even further, like a balloon neck still pinched tight.

Nothing. There was nothing you could do to make this better. Had the knots not tied you to the chair, you’d have crumpled in a heap on the floor, shuffling and moaning. Probably would’ve pissed yourself by now.

The pressure was severe enough, and your head dropped once more. Shoulders rising and falling beside your neck as you pulled the air back into your lungs with deep breaths.

“Hey. You okay?”

No. No, you weren’t. Your body needed physical stimulation. You knew it, Jack knew it, and you’d settle for a brush of Dean’s pinky finger against your own at this point.

His fingernail. The hair at the end of his knuckle. The cool metal of his 1911 would get him and you both off if you were smart about it.

So you fluttered your lashes and let the tips fan your cheeks. Your eyes peeked through them with your best wanton gaze. “There must be something you can do,” you said. “If you get us out, I’ll scratch your back, and maybe you can scratch mine?”

Not only did you hope that would get Dean’s attention, you sure as hell fucking meant it.

And you got it.

His cock twitched below his nightgown. A bead of cum spilled out from its tip, and Dean planted his feet on the ground and tried rocking again.

To the left, to the right, adrenaline was an amazing thing. Each new lift of the chair legs had him swinging and swaying, and the floorboards making god-awful sounds. But then inertia gave way and kinetic energy kicked in, and Dean’s right arm and shoulder pummeled into the floor with a thump.

His funny bone twanged. His throat gave a grunt. His dick bobbed up and down. It re-pitched the tent in his purple polyester blend the second he bounced back, tall and proud.

Fuck yeah! He was free, and scrambling on his bow legs to free you, too.

“You really wanna?” His question trailed off as you licked your lips. Your eyes, drawn to the tent of his giant hug.

He’d be insulted, but his small brain and actual brain were fighting for dominance. That moan you made when his pinky grazed your thigh was porn for his ears, and with the added ambiance, your face belonged in one. But did you just?

Wow. Well, if that didn’t do it for a guy (or girl), he had some questions. He’d barely touched you.

Screw Miss January. Mrs Butters could get stuffed like her turkey. He was gonna fuck you if you were going to let him, and his lips found their way to yours, crashing down with force and heat, before you could say no.

They seared, unrelenting, not letting you leave your seat. He’d jump you like a dog, but he wasn’t that far gone. Or was he?

Chuck. Fuck the spell. Mrs Butters had done him a favour. He’d die happy if that’s what this was. Satisfied with the taste of you on his tongue. The power he had over you with just his fingertips.

He just had one question - could he keep it?

No! Absolutely not, if Sam had anything to say about it. This night was the worst.

Seeing Dean’s junk, seeing you touch yourself, seeing an old wood nymph cry.

Oh yeah, he’d found Mrs Butters. Or rather, she found him, having apparated before him the second he shut the power off. She now stood in the corner, cowering, her hoot high in pitch when Sam pulled his gun on her, beady eyes only likening her more and more to an owl as they widened in terror.

You were right about her making a mean Merlin, or whatever his name was, but Sam was at his wit’s end, and about ready to shoot.

“So it was you?” His gaze pierced those peepers of hers back, finger trembling on the trigger of his Taurus. Unaware of what might happen if he shot at her. Very aware not to show it.

He should’ve checked the lore.

But then she dropped her head into her hands, remorseful or conniving, Sam wasn’t sure, and “Yes,” she said. “But it wasn’t supposed to do this…and…and—”

“And what?” Sam’s nostrils flared.

“It’s too late.”

And it was.

Too late to stop you, that is.

Dean had you on your feet and you were walking. Hands grabbing, fingers caressing, your bodies stepping in time like a practiced dance.

Through the halls he led you, lips nibbling and sucking your neck, your collarbone, the top of your cleavage. Wherever he could reach, he attacked, and wherever he went, you welcomed. Your hips and pelvis especially.

Yes, you undulated against him while your hands fumbled with his nightgown. His bedroom door slammed shut behind you, but you were too busy to bat an eyelid. Wrapped in hugs? No. That thing, with its excessive amount of fabric, wrapped Dean up like a chastity belt, protecting him from you and your aching heat from him.

It still burned. Still throbbed. Sweaty palms and fingertips, leaving prints that’d put crime-scene investigators outta their job if they used it for evidence. Not that he cared. He was too busy helping you with your clothing.

Your shirt, your shorts, he pushed you forward and soon had your lust-drunk-ass tumbling onto the memory foam of his bed with a bounce and grin from ear to ear. And when he pulled that lilac monstrosity off and over his head himself, he gave you little warning or vantage to take a decent peek at that part of him. You sure felt it, though.

Dean pinned you beneath him and pushed a knee flush between your legs. Anyone would think you were going somewhere, but you weren’t. Your pussy lips spread open wide, trying to draw him in.

“Fuck,” he groaned into your neck.

Fuck indeed. It was all too much. The length of him glided over your hip, electrifying everywhere it touched. You’d gone from seeing it, to feeling it, hard, hot and more than ready for you in a matter of hours. You’d tear apart into a million pieces if he didn’t tear you with it soon.

So, without a word, your arm snaked its way between your bodies to grip him, experimenting with a soft tug or two, pleased when he grunted under your touch.

You’d high five yourself, but your hands were busy and you didn’t have the resolve to stop. Neither did he.

No. There was no checking in. No questioning. Who cared if you were on birth control or not? He just pulled up, shifted himself to claim your lips, and prodded your lower ones with his blunt tip.

Your sloppy kisses struggled to return his intensity, more focused on pulling him closer and encouraging him to move by opening your legs even wider, hooking your ankles over his. You really were a floozy, and Dean only exemplified it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I can’t,” he said against your chin, before snapping his hips forward with a groan that rumbled straight up your spine.

Just as his pinky had left your panties a mess, that one thrust was all it took. Your inner walls spasmed ‘round him. The rest of you clung where you could as he set his pace, chasing the high Sam had interrupted two hours ago.

Your muscles contorted; skin tingled. Your back arched off the mattress. But even though you’d just come, your clit, your cunt, your whole being demanded more. Fingers dragged down Dean’s back, scraping, raking down and around to knead the soft flesh of his ass.

“Oh god. Don’t do that. I’m not gonna—”

But it was too late. His mouth opened into a tightened O and ropes of his cum painted your insides. Each throb pulsing against your still clenched walls.

“Shit.” He panted, chest heaving against yours. “I never blow that quick.” He swallowed, then grunted. The primality of it, the sexiest damn thing you’d ever heard.

“Me either.” You huffed. He’d given you two orgasms with little foreplay. Hell, you hadn’t even spoken. That had to be a record for any girl, not to mention he’d come, what, four times himself? The guy was over forty, and still his flesh burned molten hot.

Then again, so did yours.

You let go to star-fish underneath him, rolling your neck backwards into the pillow to draw air into your lungs. “You, ah, you good?” you asked. Though why you bothered when even Dean, with his world-renowned game and prowess, couldn’t break the spell, was beyond you.

“Are you?” He cocked his brow.

“It’s manageable,” you said, which was better than no.

Of course, Dean looked down at you. His eyes searched for the truth. He found it too, when he gave up on your top half to watch between you, drawing another couple of slow pumps in and out.

“Manageable, huh?” He chuckled at your whimper. Even gave you a devious wink. “Think you can manage switching positions?”

Sam wished he could switch positions, too.

No, not like that.

Thankfully, he wasn’t aware of what was going on behind Dean’s door. Well, no, that’s not true. He did. He stood above the evidence you’d left behind in the library, put two and two together, and now stood, staring dumbstruck at the broken seat.

Why did he bother?

“I told you to check the ropes,” he said to Jack, who was looking mighty sheepish. Of course, Sam should’ve known he’d been rather quick returning to the boiler room.

“Dean promised he—”

“And you believed him?” Yeah, Sam was wrong. Cas might’ve been useful. At least he wasn’t so gullible.

He thought.

Honestly, Sam could only scoff. His grin, wide in disbelief, as he stretched thumb and pointer over his eyes.

Blowing his brains out would be easier. Then he wouldn’t have to face your wrath when you realised what you’d done. Screw Dean’s. Though he guessed it was in his best interests to fix things.

“Okay.” He turned to Mrs Butters, cuffed and still looking sorry for herself. Whether the cuffs worked on her was another matter altogether. She hadn’t fussed about them at least. Though her beady eyes still stared into the depths of his soul as if this was all his fault. “Say you did it right. What was supposed to happen?”

“Does it matter? Aren’t you going to stop them before th-th-th-they—”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah. Even you said it was too late.” Though she’d made it sound like you were going to die.

He tucked his gun into the waistband of his sweats so as not to be tested. “But if you want to,” his arm stretched out wide in the general direction of room eleven, “Be my guest.”

Like Mr Bean and his incompetence or Mr Magoo, well past his prime, she’d messed up the love potion, not him. He couldn’t be held responsible for what you guys did because of too much henbane from a housekeeper who needed glasses.

Her thrill was less impactful. Her whole body shuddered. The woman, old-fashioned and teetering on sexist, was more disgusted than Dean was going to be once he learned he’d lost his free will to food.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Then sit.” He pointed at her, then at the table. His other hand ran through his hair, waiting as she did what she was told with a slow step and a pout.

“So will it wear off?” Jack asked over his shoulder, and honestly, Sam didn’t know what to say.

He was tired. His experiences with love spells sealed shut years ago for good reason, so unless he looked up the lore or called Rowena, he was leaning along the path of, was it fatal and could it be left until morning?

But Mrs Butters whimpered. “A kiss would have made or broken the spell,” she said.

As much as he hated to admit it, he and Mrs Butters were on the same page as Jack. If her beet-red cheeks were anything to go by, you’d both be fine come morning, assuming Dean had enough juice left.

Embarrassed, yes, and ready to kill Mrs B. But maybe, just maybe, dare he say, you’d be happy about it? He would when she was gone.

Dean was still oblivious to the mystery being solved, still seated in your sweet heat. Sure, he was doubting how much longer he could keep it up, but the squelch was heavenly. You, on all fours before him now, crying in pleasure with your continued eagerness for him to touch and taste you; he wondered if you’d do it again? Or was this a onetime thing?

“That’s it,” he drawled, trying not to let thoughts of what happened next bother him. He watched himself push in and out. Watched his spend and your juices mix and get pushed back inside, too, savouring the sight for his mental spank bank. This one would be a treat.

“Give me another one,” he cooed.

“Listen to your own advice,” you clapped back, and he fucking loved it.

He reached around to your clit and thumbed the now over-sensitive bud, proud of himself yet again when your body betrayed you.

You squirmed on his cock, and he was spilling into you with more ropes of his special sauce soon after. Your sweet pussy gripped him like a vise.

Yeah, that joke was long past its use-by date, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t continue to use it.

He pulled you in close and rolled you over before he could fall on you, exhausted, keeping you flush against him. A sheen of sweat, the only division between. Whatever the old bitch had done, if she was out to get you, he’d deal with it, but he’d also thank her, maybe…it depended on what happened here with you.

“You good?” He cursed the croak in his voice, but if you noticed his moment of weakness, or the repetitious irony, you said nothing towards it, first answering with a contented hum.

“It’s manageable.” You chuckled, wheezing when he gave a soft slap to your ass cheek. “Okay, it doesn’t hurt as much.”

“But you’re still hurtin’?”

“Just chafing.”

You shook your head, and Dean frowned, raising himself on his elbow to lean over you. His dick slipped free, although with the sight of your rack before him, it wouldn’t take long.

“You wanna make a run for the showers? Get cleaned up?” He might even consider getting you ice from the kitchen, though he couldn’t see that helping when he shuddered at the thought of putting some on his junk.

At first you were silent. Eyes refused to look back up at him. He felt your heart pick up its pace. The tightening movement in your limbs and chest, too, before you’d even moved.

“Guess I should get outta your hair,” you said, sitting up, and Dean was foolish to let you. Or maybe just a genius. A stupid one, but a genius nonetheless, recording more footage to his brain for further use, because it looked like he was going to need it.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He stood up, too, not caring that little-Dean was also on display.

He strode over to where you stood, drawing you in with a hand on both hips. His fingers traced the marks they’d left earlier, electrifying your skin all over again.

“No. No.” You took a step back. “It’s okay. It’s weird, right?”

But his hands gripped your flesh tighter. Bound to indent the little calluses you’d discovered on his hands the further you got throughout your evening. Your overused cunt even fluttered with interest when he said, “Only if you keep walking away.”

His eyes darted to the floor, and yours followed.

Oh god. You’d left a trail of cum there. One large dollop even hung just below the edge of your slit. Now you really wanted to die.

Your hand tucked down into your folds, slipping through the mess you’d both made. “How many times did you—”

“Three,” he boasted.

“And before we?” Your free hand, not holding everything in, swept the air between you.

“Three.”

Oh god. Even on birth control, you weren’t taking the risk if three times one way and three the other meant making stuff with love. You searched his eyes and found them, still wearing his cheeky grin. “First thing tomorrow, you’re taking me to a pharmacy.”

“Why?”

“To get Plan B.”

“You’re not on anything?” His voice hitched.

“Course I am!” Living a hunter’s life? You’d be stupid not to. “And now that my heads screwed on, I ain’t risking it given the circumstances.”

Dean blinked and flicked his head down. “What? you think my special sauce is extra special now?”

“That’s not funny.”

Fuck! You needed a shower. An actual douche would be better. But unless Mrs Butters’ boys had vaginas and kept them in the infirmary with all the other outdated equipment, one of those was coming from the pharmacy, too.

You looked to Dean in horror, expecting to see mirrored panic. Expected him to at least hide the pearly whites in his mouth, but no, those lips of his flattened into a thin line. One that curled on the end.

“Okay. Would you relax?” he said.

“Don’t tell me to relax. You’re not full of,” you couldn’t say those two words again. Cum seemed worse outside the act. Baby gravy? Jizz? Spunk? Oh god.

“I made it!” And he looked insulted, too. “Look, I’ll take you first thing, alright? But we’ve still got a few hours before they open.”

You didn’t miss the wag of his brows or the suggestive tone that further accompanied the suggestion to relax, either. Typical Dean. He’d just been up close and personal with your cunt, yet he struggled to open up.

“We’re past the awkwardness, don’t you think?”

“Look who’s talking.”

He had a point, but the phrase just brought on memories of babies sounding like Bruce Willis, and that ship needed to set sail. So when those calloused hands of his grazed your skin further to grab the globes of your ass, your body and mind welcomed them. Yup. Floozy.

He pushed you flush against him, much like he had throughout the night. Fingers embedded into flesh from both sides. His lips, no longer tasting of cinnamon and snickerdoodles, pressed into yours with the taste of him and you. The squelch, more delectable than anything made down below.

“I gotta sink right there,” he said between kisses. “Plenty of clean shirts.” He chuffed through another. “Wanna stay the night?”

And what did your floozy do?

Yeah. She agreed.

She didn’t even need to think hard about it. Better leaving hardness to other things. Yes, he was crude. Yes, he liked to wear his underthings inside and out, but the man had already reeled you in with an oversized purple nightgown. And the way he made his special sauce.

Or should you thank Butters for that?

PART 1 || PART 2 || Part 3 || Read on AO3��————————————————————There was another scene on the end there, but it didn’t feel like a satisfying conclusion when I was getting ready to post so I scraped it last minute which means - there might be a part 4? Mrs Butters needs some consequences right?

Leave it with me 😉 Coming next:

To You I Belong - 21/02 🇦🇺🕕

Omegaverse - Soulmate AU - Pregnancy (x reader) Dean isn’t looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to find the one meant for him is on the job. But it’s not the monsters he hunts that you need rescuing from. It’s someone closer to you. (Dual POV) 18+ only MDNI This one is darker than the other things I’ve been posting and might not be suitable for everyone - pls check the warnings in the series Masterlist (link above) final word count unknown 20 parts + timestamps—————————————————————DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse

@kazchester-fanfiction @maddie0101 @ladykitana90 @luvr4miya @amyjam78

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#wayne reads #fic rec #amazing writers 🤍#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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morgana-larkin · 3 days ago

Text

Here is part 13 of 'Just Tired' peeps! I still can't believe we were deprived from our babygirl this week, I'm missing her. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I'm also working on the next chapter of Worth It, it's at about 2k words so far! Also there will not be anything updated or posted next Thursday (February 27) as it's my 25th birthday, as well as March 1 as that's when my family is having the party.

Just Tired - Part 13

Warnings: Manipulative Relationship (mentioned), Smut, Swearing, Emotional setback

Words: 3.4k

You’re curled up against Melissa’s body when you get a text. Melissa reaches over and grabs your phone and hands it to you.

“Thanks.” You tell her before looking at the text. “Janine is inviting Jacob and I to this trivia thing tonight.” You say to her. “Do you want to come? I know you’re super smart and we’d win with you on the team.”

“No thanks, I’d rather not spend more time with those 2 than I already have to.” She tells you and you nod before replying to the text.

“Well I’m going, I love trivia. I was actually thinking of doing a little trivia game with my kids one day.” You tell her as you put your phone down.

“Oh, they’ll love that.” She says and you hum.

“Well I gotta go.” You say and get up but she brings you back to her body.

“No, stay.” She says and she wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I have to go home and eat something before I go. It starts at 7 and it’s 4:30.” You tell her.

“You can have some leftovers here but I want that hour longer with you.” She says and you look at her.

“Hour longer to do what?” You ask her and she runs a hand up your leg.

“Maybe some more of what we already did.” She says as she reaches your clit and starts slowly circling it. You automatically buck your hips as she applies more pressure and you moan out. “God, you’re so beautiful, and the sounds you make, I could listen to you moan all day.” She says and the compliments only make you wetter.

“Oh god Melissa, don’t stop, please.” You say and she starts going faster and you fall on your back. It’s not long until you’re right at the edge and you come with a gasp. “Fuck.” You say as you try and catch your breath.

“You alright hon?” She asks and you nod.

“Ya, you just gave me one hell of an orgasm, that’s all.” You tell her and she giggles as she brings you closer to her to help you calm down. “Oh god, your tits are turning me on again.” You say and she quirks an eyebrow at you before she chuckles.

“Oh ya?” She says and you nod and then you put a nipple in your mouth. “Oh god, yes, don’t stop.” She says and you continue to suck and lick her nipple while you play with the other one. You switch to the other one when she starts bucking her hips. You end up straddling her lap to get to the other one and Melissa touches all over your body. “Fuck me, please.” She begins begging and you pull away from her nipples.

“I was enjoying your nipples though.” You say and she groans.

“You could enjoy them another time, just fuck me.” She says and you bring your hand down to her entrance and are able to easily slide a finger in her and she gasps. You begin to slowly pump into her and she’s gasping and moaning underneath you. You slide another finger in her and then go faster. “Oh fuck!” She yells out and you smirk. You start curling your fingers inside her and then she feels her orgasm start to build. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She yells out and then her orgasm washes through her. “I can’t believe I was missing out on this from being with him.” She says and you smile.

“Not everyone is good at sex, luckily for you, I am.” You tell her and she chuckles breathlessly.

After an hour of cuddling, you both get up and get dressed before she goes to reheat some leftovers for you. She puts some on a plate before popping it in the microwave.

“I’m glad you suggested this casual dating thing, I think that’s the best thing for me right now.” She says and you hum.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve done casual dating, I did it quite a bit when I was 20.” You tell her and she hums.

“Well you’re very pretty so I bet the girls were all over you.” She says and you chuckle.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re stunning.” She tells you and you blush.

“Well thank you.” You say and then the microwave beeps.

“Here, have some food. You need some fuel after all we did.” She says and you giggle as she puts a plate in the microwave for herself.

“I had a lot of fun today.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“So did I. I haven’t had fun like that in a while.” She says as she leans on the counter to look at you.

“You realise you’re showing a lot of your tits like that, right?”

“Are you complaining?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Although it’s making me want to touch them and then eat you out.” You say and she smiles before she gets her plate out of the microwave. “Can I ask you something about Joe?” You ask her and she nods. “Did he often guilt you into changing your mind about something?” You ask her and she thinks about it for a second.

“Yes, quite often actually. The most common thing was sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I stopped enjoying having sex with him and I was never really turned on when we did it. I said no to sex at least twice a month and he got me to change my mind every time. Often saying things like ‘do you think you’re too good for me?’ or ‘why are you withholding affection from me?’ are some examples.”

“You are too good for him. He’s a fucking asshole who never deserved you.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Thanks, hon.”

“Hey, Melissa, we’re home!” Barb calls out.

“I’m in the kitchen.” Melissa says and Barb appears a few seconds later.

“Oh hello dear.” Barb says to you.

“Hi Barb.”

“How was the date?” She asks you both.

“It was a lot of fun, I pushed Melissa on a tire swing at the park.” You say and Melissa chuckles.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun on a swing before, even when I was a kid.” Melissa says.

“I’m enjoying my time with you but I do have to go in half an hour.” You say and Melissa nods.

“Where are you going?” Barb asks you.

“Janine invited Jacob and I to trivia tonight and it starts at 7.”

“You’re not going, Melissa?” Barb asks her and Melissa shakes her head. “I think it might be good for you to do things like that.”

“I don’t want to spend any more time with those two than I have to.” She says to Barb. “They already annoy me enough at school.” She adds and you chuckle. “What?”

“They actually keep wanting to be friends with you two.” You tell them.

“Well that ain’t ever gonna happen.” Melissa says.

“As much as I respect them for wanting to work at Abbott, they are a bit much to be around.” Barb tells you.

Half an hour later Melissa drives you home and then you drive yourself to the bar for trivia. You walk in and see Janine and Jacob at a table and they wave you over.

“Hey guys.” You say.

“Hey Y/n, how was your weekend?” Janine asks you.

“It was good. Finally got Melissa to talk to me again after a week of her ignoring me.” You tell them.

“How did you get her to do that?” Jacob asks.

“That’s a secret.” You say and they sigh.

“You can’t just get someone like Melissa to talk to you again and not reveal how.” Janine complains.

“Ya. What’s your secret, are you a wizard?” Jacob asks you and you chuckle.

“I could be.” You tell them with a smile.

“Is everyone ready for trivia?” A voice announces and everyone claps and yells.

You guys end up getting your asses beat by half of the groups.

“That was a lot of fun!” Janine exclaims. “We should do this all the time.” She adds.

“I don’t think I could do this every Sunday night.” You tell her and Jacob agrees with you. “Besides you’re in a relationship, don’t you have a life with him?” You ask her.

“It’s sometimes hard to have a life when we’re both poor. I mean I overdrafted on a donut hole this morning.” She says and you giggle.

“I understand that, I mean I wasn’t able to afford gas for 2 weeks.” You say. “It was either food or gas.” You add.

“How were you able to get gas again?” Jacob asks you.

“Well, Melissa found out that I was only eating microwavable meals and she got a bit offended at that and made me a meal that lasted a week and I was able to buy some gas instead of spending it on food.” You explain.

“Why was she offended?” Janine asks you.

“Cause she’s Italian, and cooking is a huge part of her heritage and life.” You tell her. “Well I gotta go if I’m not going to be a zombie tomorrow morning.” You tell them before you bid them goodbye and leave.

You get home around 9:30 and then you get ready for bed. You get comfy in bed and then you get a text and look at your phone.

Melissa: Hope you had fun tonight! I got like 20 questions asked by Barb

You: Sounds like torture, and I had a lot of fun. We got our asses beat though

Melissa: Glad you had fun! Good night, hon

You: Good night Melissa

You text that to her before you fall asleep. You wake up by your alarm the next morning and then you get ready for work before you go to work.

“Good morning.” You tell them all as everyone is already there.

“Morning Y/n!” Janine exclaims. “I know you both said you can’t do trivia every Sunday but what about this Sunday?” She asks both you and Jacob.

“Janine, it’s Monday morning, I don’t even know what I’m doing tonight, let alone Sunday.” You tell her and she hums.

“Same here.” Jacob says.

“Alright, fair enough.” She says and you go to get coffee from the coffee maker.

“Morning Barb and Melissa.” You tell them.

“Morning dear.” Barb says and you look to see Melissa absentmindedly playing with the spoon in her coffee.

“Melissa?” You ask her and she snaps out of whatever she was thinking and looks at you.

��What?” She asks and she sounds tired.

“Are you alright?” You ask her and she nods.

“Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” She says before she gathers her things. “I’m just going to relax in my classroom until the little eagles get here.” She says and then leaves. You sit in Melissa’s spot and look at Barb.

“Did something happen last night?” You whisper to her and Barb shakes her head.

“No, I just asked her a few questions about the date after you left and then we both watched some tv before we went to bed.” Barb tells you. “If you’re worried then you can check on her, I don’t think she’ll mind.” She tells you.

“Do you think I should? Would you check on her if you were me?” You ask her and she nods.

“If my friend was upset then I would want to know how to help them.” Barb tells you.

“But Melissa is your friend.”

“Yes and she’s going through a rough time right now and I can’t help her a lot at the moment. But I’m also not her safety net, you are.” She says and you sigh.

“I’m going to go check on her.” You tell her before you grab your things and leave. You walk to Melissa’s classroom and see the lights are off. You knock on the door and then you open the door and peek your head in. “It’s Y/n, can I come in?” You ask her.

“Sure.” She says and you walk in and close the door behind you. You see her at her desk and she’s using her arms as a pillow for her head on her desk.

“Did something happen last night or this morning? I know you said you’re just tired but your eyes were saying something different.” You tell her and she sighs.

“I got the divorce papers last night.” She says softly.

“Isn’t that a good thing though? It means you can finally divorce him.” You tell her.

“I know he won’t sign them which means I’ll have to take him to court.” She explains and you let out a breath.

“Oh, that is unfortunate.” You say and she hums. “But Barb and I will be here to support you the whole time.” You tell her.

“And both of you won’t leave even if things might get messy?” She asks and you walk over to her.

“You’ve seen what I look like in the morning, that kind of bond is hard to break.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“I think you look cute in the morning.” She tells you and she lifts her head.

“I look like a fucking disaster.” You counter and she smiles. “In all seriousness, I don’t plan on leaving your side. You were an ass to me and ignored me for a week and I’m still here for you.” You tell her.

“Thank you.” She says and you go over and hug her. You then start to hear voices in the hall and look to see there’s 5 minutes until the bell rings.

“Do you want 5 minutes alone?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“Can you stay?” She asks and you nod. You sit on her desk next to her and you grab her hand. You stay rubbing her hand gently until the bell rings and then you give the hand a kiss before you go to your classroom

“Have a good day.” You tell her and she nods

“You too.” She says and then you leave her classroom.

The day goes by normally after that. You notice Melissa having fun teaching her kids something new and the fact that they’re engaged in the topic. At lunch you see her laughing and chatting with Barb, and at the end of the day, you see her saying goodbye to her kids with a real smile.

Shit seemed to hit the fan about an hour after you got home. You were grading some work sheets when you get a call. You see that Barb is calling you and you furrow your eyebrows before you accept the call.

“Hey Barb, what’s up?” You ask her.

“Y/n, can you come over? It’s Melissa.” She says.

“I’ll be right over.” You tell her and end the call before you grab your keys and you’re out the door. You get to Barb’s about 15 minutes later and you knock on the door. Gerald opens the door and lets you in.

“They’re upstairs.” He tells you and you nod before you go upstairs.

“It’s going to be ok.” You hear Barb say and you go to Melissa’s room.

“No it won’t, because that stupid! Fucking! Asshole! Won’t sign the damn papers!” You see Melissa yell and hit the bed with a pillow. “He’s still trying to control my fucking life even after I leave him.” She says and you knock on the door. “Y/n, what are you doing here?” She asks you.

“I called her, I thought she could help.” Barb tells her.

“I don’t need Y/n’s help or yours, I just need Joe to sign the damn papers so I don’t have to go through the whole court bullshit.” She says and runs her hands through her hair. “Oh god, I’m going to have to take him to court, I don’t have the patience or money for that.” She says and you walk over. “Why won’t he just sign them? Why is he still trying to control me?” She asks both of you.

“That’s what manipulators do, they want to trap you for the rest of your life.” You tell her and you see tears begin to start in her eyes.

“Aaahhh! Fucking hell!” Melissa screams and continues hitting the bed with a pillow.

“Ok, calm down.” You say and slowly approach her.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She says to you.

“I wasn’t telling you, it was more of a suggestion so you don’t hurt yourself or something in the room by accident.”

“I wouldn’t hurt myself, I’m not a fucking idiot!” She yells at you and you can see why Barb called you, Melissa is losing it. Barb cautiously leaves the room to leave you be to try and calm Melissa down.

“You are far from an idiot, you are so smart.” You say and stay a few feet away from her. “It’s Joe who’s the idiot.” You add and she throws the pillow across the room.

“He’s a fucking asshole! I gave him 25 years of my life and he won’t give me the courtesy of signing the damn papers!” She yells.

“I know, he should but he won’t. So you’ll take him to court and you’ll win and milk him for everything he’s worth.” You tell her and she looks at you. You then see all the anger leave her and a tear falls down her face. You go up to her and her knees collapse as soon as you touch her.

“Ahhh!” She yells out and you wrap an arm around her shoulders. “What did I do to deserve this?” She asks.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve this, it’s just the shitiest luck ever.” You say calmly and she nuzzles her head into your chest and neck. You end up stroking her head while she cries on you.

Barb comes to check on you both about 10 minutes later and sees Melissa relaxing on your chest.

“I’ve brought you both some tea.” Barb says as she comes in with two cups.

“Thanks Barb.” Melissa says and takes a cup while you take the other.

“I’ll leave you two be.” She says and then leaves.

“Thank you for coming to help me.” She tells you as she takes a sip of the tea.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You tell her and she sighs as she puts the cup down.

“I feel like everytime I feel like I’m making progress, something comes along to remind me of my life, of him.” She says and you put your cup down beside you and look at her.

“Melissa, you are making progress. It doesn’t happen overnight and doesn’t happen right away. You will have many more of these setbacks but that just proves that you’re moving forward.” You tell her and she lets out a breath.

“I just want to move on with my life.” She says and lets out a sob as a couple of tears run down her cheek.

“You will, it won’t start with the divorce. It already started because you left him and you don’t want to go back.” You tell her. “Do you want to go back to him?” You ask her after a second.

“No, I will never go back to him. I’ve finally started living and I want more, to experience a lot more. I want to experience what life has to offer, the stuff I never got to do.” She tells you and you smile.

“See? You are moving on already because you want to.” You tell her and she looks at you. “All this, the setbacks, they will happen but they will only stop you from living if you let them. But if you continue living, even with the setbacks, then there is nothing that can stop you from what you want and you will find the happiness that you want, in whatever form that takes.” You tell her and she grabs your hand.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” She tells you and hugs you. She pulls back after a few seconds and looks into your eyes that shine with adoration. She then leans forward and kisses you and you kiss her back immediately.

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