#jensen did their voices too

[bowsersdick]

ok rewatching spn because im a fucking idiot. i hate this show

[deansbeer]

♱ american made ⎯⎯ SOLDIER BOY.

⎯⎯ your encounter with soldier boy at the flatiron building proves he's nothing like his disappointing son, homelander.

YAP SESH! so this was meant to be posted days ago … but i got super busy 'n totally forgot about it. but it's finally up <3 love me some soldier boy every once in awhile too.

WARNING(S) smut | smoking | mild degradation ( towards homelander ) | semi-public sex | rough sex-ish | mentions of past relationships | strong language. ୨ৎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.

୨ৎ JENSEN'S LIBRARY.

୨ৎ CAI BOT — based off this FIC.

you hadn't expected to find soldier boy lounging on butcher's desk, smoke curling from his lips as he took another hit from his joint. the flatiron building was usually empty this time of night, save for butcher who you could hear talking in the other room.

"well. if it isn't america's former sweetheart," soldier boy drawled, his eyes trailing over you with an intensity that made your breath catch. "came to see the brit?"

you shifted your weight, suddenly aware of how alone you were with him. "i needed to discuss some things about homelander."

"that fucking disappointment," he scoffed, taking another drag. "you know, hughie told me about you. america's sweetheart turned rebel. gotta say, that's pretty hot."

the way he said it made heat pool in your stomach. you'd heard stories about soldier boy, about his reputation before payback turned their backs on him, but nothing prepared you for the raw magnetism he exuded. maybe it was because he reminded you of homelander — or rather, homelander reminded you of him. but there was something different about soldier boy. something more primal, more authentic.

"what else did hughie tell you?" you asked, taking a step closer.

soldier boy's lips curved into a smirk. "enough to know that you're wasted on my sorry excuse of a son." he stubbed out the joint and stood up, closing the distance between you in two long strides. "tell me, sweetheart, did he ever make you feel like a real woman?"

your breath hitched as he backed you against the desk, his hands gripping the wooden edge on either side of you. "soldier boy—"

"ben," he corrected, his breath hot against your neck. "my name's ben."

what happened next was a blur of sensations. his lips crashed against yours, tasting of marijuana and whiskey. your hands found their way to his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath his suit. he lifted you onto the desk with ease, stuff scattering to the floor.

"fuck butcher and his precious fucking desk," he growled, pushing you back until you were lying flat on the wooden surface. "been wanting to do this since i first heard about you."

your clothes seemed to disappear under his experienced hands, and soon you were bare beneath him. soldier boy took his time, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. "now this is what i call a view," he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

you could hear butcher still on the phone in the next room, his muffled british accent a reminder of where you were. but soldier boy didn't seem to care, and truthfully, neither did you.

he knew exactly how to touch you, where to kiss you, how to make you fall apart. each thrust was calculated, powerful, making you bite your lip to keep from crying out. his experience showed in every movement, every angle he hit perfectly.

"you're all mine," he growled in your ear, his pace relentless. "no other man gets to touch you, look at you, think about you. understood?"

you nodded desperately, your nails digging into his back.

"say it," he demanded, slowing his movements teasingly.

"i'm yours," you gasped, and he rewarded you by picking up his pace again.

the desk creaked beneath you, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if butcher would notice the scattered papers, the slightly askew angle of his workspace. but those thoughts disappeared as soldier boy brought you to the edge again and again.

when it was over, he helped you straighten your clothes, a possessive glint in his eyes. "you should come around more often," he said, lighting another joint. "might make these meetings with butcher more interesting."

you couldn't help but smile, even as you heard butcher's footsteps approaching. soldier boy didn't move away from you, if anything he moved closer, making it clear to anyone who walked in exactly what had happened.

from that moment on, everyone knew you belonged to soldier boy. the boys never commented on it directly, but they saw the marks he left on your neck, the way his eyes followed you whenever you were in the room, the possessive hand he kept on your lower back.

and honestly? you wouldn't have it any other way.

[winwintea]

tetris

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

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

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

WORD COUNT ↬ 10.1k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately for Jisung, Chenle had other plans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The change didn’t go unnoticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His stomach twisted. You were Chenle’s girlfriend. 

Off-limits. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was the problem.

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

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

He hated the feeling. The guilt. The jealousy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there was you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there were the looks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t even hear you approach.

“You okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung,” you finished gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chenle. His best friend. Your boyfriend.

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

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

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

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

But he wasn’t the only one watching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The state Tetris championship. He was really here.

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

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

“Hey, you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Both,” Jisung muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The countdown began.

Three.

The noise of the crowd faded away.

Two.

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

One.

Play your absolute fucking best.

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

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

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

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

The crowd quieted as the final countdown began again.

Three.

Jisung tightened his grip on the joystick.

Two.

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

One.

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

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

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

Most players.

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

He wasn’t thinking anymore; he was flowing.

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

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the auditorium erupted.

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

He’d won.

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

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

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

And then his eyes found you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She believes in me. She sees me.

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

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

“Hey, champ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why does it feel like this isn’t enough?

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

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

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

“Hey, Wiz.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung blinked, confused. “Thinking about what?”

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

Jisung stared at him, struggling to process the words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was it.

The moment he’d worked toward for months.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GAME OVER.

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

[anundyingfidelity]

OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

[thebiggerbear]

Giving In

Summary: You've finally given in to what you've wanted all this time but will it be enough?

Pairing: ? (whoever you want it to be) x Female!Reader

A/N: This is a new format I was experimenting with while also practicing...well...smut. To a low degree. I've come across fics in the past for all different fandoms, on here and AO3, that have featured this "whichever character you want it to be" format. So this could be Dean, Russell, Beau, Soldier Boy, Jensen, whoever you want. I'm going to tag the ones I just mentioned just to give it somewhere to go but it was purposely kept vague to be whoever the reader wants it to be.

All unbeta'd.

Thank you @rieleatiel for pre-reading! I was so nervous lol. Once again, your input is invaluable and your time spent appreciated. 💖

Warnings: smut-ish (18+ - minors DNI); language

Word Count: 978

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

You can also read on AO3

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he moved in and out of you.

You felt his breath near your earlobe. “There it is. Let me hear some more of that, sweetheart.” He purposely moaned into your ear as an example.

You dug your nails into his back at the sound, matching the indentations that now resided in your bottom lip from your teeth. Fuck, that was hot. No wonder he wanted to hear similar sounds coming from you. “We shouldn’t—” You loudly gasped when suddenly without warning, he hiked your leg higher on his side, causing him to go just that little bit deeper. “Be doing this.”

“Yes, we should,” he whispered, feeling him trailing kisses down your jawline until he reached your lips. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he grunted into your mouth, squeezing your hand in his almost as if to echo his sentiment.

You let him kiss you passionately, make love to you, but the guilt weighed heavily in your chest. You meant what you had said before — neither of you should be doing this. Yet as his hips moved steadily against yours, as he broke away to lift his head up and lock eyes with you, panting harshly, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you had wanted this for some time as well. It was a truth you kept hidden deep down inside that you refused to acknowledge. Even when you’d taken a picture together last week with your friends and his hand had stayed glued to the small of your back until the last possible second. When his gaze lingered on you longer than it should in polite company. When the discreet tender touches began, the inconspicuous feathery brush of his lips on your earlobe happened repeatedly when your head was a little too close to his, and when his hugs lasted a little too long. Each time any of those things occurred, you knew that you were heading in a direction that would only lead to trouble, getting closer and closer until one of you couldn’t take it anymore. Like a rumbling storm cloud that was close to breaking, the electricity in the air around you two became more and more charged until eventually lightning would strike and the downpour would be sudden and both of you would be drowning in it. You should have put a stop to it, to any of it, but you hadn’t. Because deep down in that secret place, you hadn’t wanted to. 

And now here you were, underneath the man who had as tight of a grip on your heart as he did your body — tighter even. He was staring down at you with a mix of desire and something akin to reverence; you stared back at him, the same feelings coursing through you alongside pleasure and — well, love. You loved these eyes now, the ones that watched your expressions closely as he moved within you. You loved these lips, the ones that parted to let out a deep groan when you reflexively clenched down on him to slow him down. You loved the deep voice that followed, telling you, “Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing the shit out of me” as lust brightened the sheen in his eyes. You loved the warm yet prickly skin you felt underneath your hand when you placed it against his cheek, causing his eyes to shut halfway before he turned and pressed his lips to your palm.

You loved this man. You’d loved him when he insisted on playing you song after song from the playlist on his phone. You’d loved him the first time he’d laughed at something you said, appreciating your steady stream of snarky commentary from movies to news to every possible topic in life you two could find to discuss. You’d loved him when you turned to say something to him about the tv series you were binging together one day to find him already watching you with an affectionate smile and a soft, faraway look in his eyes. You’d loved him when he fell asleep on your couch one night after several drinks between the two of you, his head in your lap and his lips resting against your hand that he had brought to his mouth and placed soft kisses on before drifting off. You’d loved him when you saw an act of kindness from him to a stranger that wasn’t meant to be witnessed by you or anyone else nor was he aware that it was. You loved him beyond words with every smile; every conversation; every laugh; every exchange between you without words; every look; every phone call and facetime; every touch; every text message he sent; every embrace; every thought he had and shared with you; every time he spoke your name with that adoration attached to it — all of it. You loved him.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, straight from the heart.

He turned a dopey smile down on you, kissing the tips of your fingers reverently. He didn’t say it back; he never said it back. And you knew why. It was the very same reason you two should not be tangled up in each other like you were. 

But you knew that he loved you, too, even if he couldn’t say the words. The way he leaned down to kiss you; the way he moved your hand back over your head and slipped his fingers into yours; the way he continued moving both of your bodies anew; the way his mouth lingered near your ear and breathily encouraged your quiet moans with “That’s it, baby, let me hear all of it”; the way he held you to him as you shuddered in orgasm and pressed his lips to your temple — you knew he loved you. And that would have to be enough.

For now. 

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for any works.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Santa Baby

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Not wanting them to feel left out, you show some kindness to a coworker, only to be repaid with a most unexpected act of generosity.

Character: Jake Jensen

Day Six of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - extreme weather leads to forced proximity  

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Another message pops up on the Teams chat, then a reaction. As chair of the social committee, you swiftly open the conversation to review the interaction. The secret santa is a success. So far. 

You check another name off your list. You want to make sure that all the exchanges are made. You even arranged to deliver gifts on behalf of those with the day booked off. It’s all going smoothly and you’re a few hours away from declaring another office holiday season a success. 

Then you have to worry about the other holiday. The one for your family. Your kids are sorted but the gifts need to be wrapped. And your husband, he’s the nosiest of all. You’ll need to make sure he isn’t sniffing around your bag again. 

The presents are just one thing. Your time off won’t be that. You have to drive three hours north to see your family. You still don’t think your sister, Shayna, forgives you for that little argument at Thanksgiving. And if your brother, Jamar, even shows up, that might be worse than the alternative. 

Your workday triumph is one thing you can be proud of before your home life implodes. 

You run the clock out, your list filling with tick marks. As you reach the one-hour countdown, there’s one name left. Jensen. Strange. He’s handed off his own gift but hasn’t yet received anything. Maybe he just didn’t post in the chat. He does get distracted easily. 

As another minute runs off, you jump into action. You head down to accounting to ask Alan about it. He’s swiveling casually in his chair as you approach, nonchalant as she stares at his monitor dully. You say his name to get his attention. 

“Hey, just checking in. Going around and making sure everything’s been sorted for the swap. You gave Jensen his present right?” 

Alan scoffs and chews the end of a ballpoint, “nah.” 

“No?” You frown, “okay, well can you do it by the end of the day--” 

“Nope,” he snorts. “Didn’t get one.” 

“What?” You have to measure your voice.  

“Didn’t feel like it. Guy’s a dweeb.” 

“Regardless of your personal feelings, this was voluntary and you signed up,” you chide. 

“Mm, kinda too late, isn’t it?��� He shrugs and turns back to his screen. “I got a wife who’ll tear my throat out if she doesn’t get a month’s pay in gifts so that goggly-eyed nerd is the least of my worries.” 

You sigh. There’s always one bad egg. It’s like when you ask your kids to just not fight for one day. It never happens yet you still keep trying. 

“Happy holiday, Alan,” you snipe and stomp away. 

You should have expected one thing to go wrong. It always has to and you’re always the one cleaning it up. Why would anyone call this the happiest time of the year? It’s the most stressful and the only thing you ever get are a few new grey hairs.  

Well, Kathleen did get you that fancy three-wick candle you plan to put in your bathroom, though you’re not sure how much relaxation you can get when your kids can’t leave you to soak for more than five minutes without interruption. You remind yourself to stop looking for the problems. You’re the problem-solver, not the problem-dweller. 

You can figure this out. You go to your desk and grab your purse and nothing else. You hurry out, ignoring several utterances in your direction. If people need you now, well, they should’ve thought of that earlier. It might not be important to them or to your job, but you’d hate to be the only person left out. You have been before. It’s why you’re such a people pleaser. 

There’s a hobby shop not far from the office building. You went there for your son’s gift. He’s a big fan of anime. You enter and greet the cashier with an apologetic smile. They are also gearing up for the end of the day. 

“Promise, I’ll be quick,” you assure him. 

He just shrugs, “no problem, lady.” 

You stop and take a breath, gathering your wits into order. Your racing thoughts, your hammering adrenaline, it’s like a platoon of disordered soldiers scattering inside of you. You call them into formation and turn down the center aisle. 

You glance over the products on the shelf. Jensen always had that Tetris keychain dangling from his lanyard when he came to troubleshoot. It’s the only video game you ever played, though your daughter let you run around her Animal Crossing island once. She banned you after you offended her favourite cat character. 

You bend to the lower shelf, hips straining with the effort, and you claim the box with the red clearance tag, marked right under the spending cap. The mini arcade machine proclaims 30+ games to play, including classics like Pong, Pac-man, his bow wearing counterpart, and Tetris! 

You take it to the counter and ask if they do gift wrap. Sorry, no. That’s okay. You pay and mourn the bottle of wine you’ll have to forego to accommodate the extra expense. 

You hurry back down the street, without a jacket to protect you from the biting chill or drifting flakes. The snow dampens your face and clothes, catching and melting in your hair as you clack in your heels frantically. 

Fifteen minutes left in the day. You rush into the lobby and tap the elevator button impatiently. Screw it. 

You tuck the box under one arm and go to the stairs. You take off your heels and clamour up in your stockinged feet. You’re breathless as you get to the top. You push through the heavy metal door and stomp forward, shoes dangling from your fingers. 

You ignore the looks sent in your direction. You stop briefly to scratch off the price tag and attempt to compose yourself. You proceed down to IT and approach Jensen as he bites his thumb, his other hand hovering over his keyboard. 

His rectangular glasses reflect his screen and his blond hair is spiked only one side as it appears the other has been flattened by anxious palming. You keep from slamming down the box and instead stop beside him. “Excuse me, Jensen.” 

“Huh, uh, oh,” he turns his chair and looks up at you. He smooths his Luigi-themed tie as he plants his feet wide. “Oh, hi. Is your PC overheating again--” 

“Merry Christmas,” you shove the box towards him, “special delivery.” 

He hesitates and pushes his glasses down the bridge of his nose. He blinks as he examines the box. He lowers his hand to his chest and pinches the button of his shirt. 

“For me?” 

“So sorry, I was running around all day,” you explain. “I meant to get it to your earlier--” 

“Really?” He looks at your shoulder and you glance over at the melting snow. 

“It was in my car,” you lie swiftly. “I’m sorry, really.” 

“No, it’s...” he reaches to take the box, his hands brushing your cold fingers. “Oh gosh, you’re freezing.” 

“I’m fine,” you assure him as you retract your hold on the box. He gives you a lingering look before he leans back. 

“Huh, this is...” he lowers it to his lap and examines the box. “Really cool. Thanks.” He chuckles tensely, “I almost thought Santa forgot me.” 

“Again, I’m sorry,” you say. 

“I’m not mad,” he assures you as he turns the box in his hands. “Really. I had to set an alarm to make sure I brought in mine, then another to give it to Terry.” 

“That’s a good idea. If we do this again, I’ll have to try that,” you smile. “Well, I hope you enjoy.” 

“Totally,” he agrees. “It’ll keep me busy on the time off.” 

Wish I had that problem, you think to yourself. “That’s great,” you chime. “Anywho, I don’t wanna keep you since the day’s almost done. I gotta get my desk tidied before I head out.” 

“Sure,” he gives a slanted grin, “this is so cool, thank you.” He grips the corners of the box, “I always knew you were the coolest.” 

You go back to the desk but the person waiting for you is a bad omen for your holiday. You hide your disappointment as Lee waits, leaning on the corner with arms crossed. You stop behind your chair. 

“Hello, Mr. Bodecker--” 

“Let’s not beat around the bush,” he intones. 

“Right, what’s going on?” 

“That new one, the pretty thing, she miscalculated the Dorsey account.” 

You deflate. Of course she did. That one hasn’t done a single thing right since she started. 

“I’d ask her to redo it but I already did. Three times. Needs to be done for year end or accounting will have my ass in two,” he says without censor. 

“And you want me to do it?” You utter. 

“See, you always know exactly what needs to be done,” he clucks and stands straight, “double-overtime. It’ll be on your January pay.” 

“Right,” you swallow. There’s not denial to be given. Your performance review is also in January and you need the bonus after factoring in the family road trip. “I’ll get it done.” 

“Good woman,” he winks. “Put the hours into the system.” 

“Sure, happy holidays, sir.” 

“Ha,” he snorts, “if my ex-wife has anything to say about it, they won’t be.” 

You roll you chair under you and drop your purse between your feet. You send a quick text to your husband. The kids are being dropped off by Hannah anyway. He just needs to be home. Even he can figure out how to reheat the chili you froze last month. 

After you get your instructions sent, you turn your attention to your computer. You still have to finish up all your other wrap-up before you get to Dorsey. As you put your nose to the grind, Mary wishes you a happy break on her way out. She's followed by a speckled succession of eager coworkers, ready to begin their time off. 

Your eyes haze as the glare of your screen feels brighter with each passing second. You have a prescription but never a change to fill it. You don’t imagine the neglect is making your vision any better. 

The office grows desolate as you continue plucking away. As the snow falls on the other side of the windows, they dampen out the noise of the city. You’re isolated in your focus. The files for Dorsey are a complete mess. You're not sure how anyone could fail to balance a spreadsheet. There are very easy formulas to do the work for you. 

Mulling over mistakes won’t fix them. Your fingers flutter over the keys as you painstakingly restart the entire workbook from scratch. You’re disappointed, not that you’re stuck in the contradictingly uncomfortable ergonomic chair, but that you won’t get to see your kids or husband for more than an hour or two if that. 

You close your eyes as the gridlines burn into them. You lean back and rub your brows. There’s tension sewn into your brows. It’s grim how getting older really dims the sparkle of this time of year. Everyone else gets to be happy and you’re just the courier of that happiness. Maybe that should make you happy, that you can be that for them. 

No, it’s just exhausting. 

Before you can open your eyes or sit forward, you let out a yelp at the sudden warmth on your shoulders. You twitch and look up at Jensen as he stands behind your chair. Your heart quickly calms. 

“Oh, what are you still doing here?” You ask, a tremor of fright in your voice. 

“Back-end work,” he answers as he squeezes your shoulders. His touch is unexpected. You wiggle but he doesn’t let you go. “What about you?” 

“Just some last-minute quality control,” you answer. “You really snuck up on me.” 

“Ha, yeah,” he slowly drags his hands away, his fingers caressing your neck lightly. “Sorry, I... I didn’t know anyone else was here.” 

“Yeah, it’s quiet,” you agree. 

He leans on the back of your chair as his proximity clouds you. It’s a bit awkward. You just want to get your work done but can’t bring yourself to tell him to go away. Especially knowing what you know. He doesn’t deserve any of that just because he can be a bit different. 

“What about your family?” He asks. 

You wince and turn the chair to face him. You shrug, “I’ll be a bit late but they’ll survive without me.” 

“Sure, sure. You must be excited to spend time with them,” he lets go of your chair and backs up a single step as you look at him. 

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to see them a bit more,” you agree. “What about you? You doing anything for the holidays?” 

He shakes his head as his lips thin, “no. Don’t really got anyone.” 

“Ah, well, it’s always a good time to catch up hobbies,” you offer. 

He nods and his throat bobs. He shoves his hands into his pockets. He looks sad in that moment. He’s still pretty young, you want to tell him to enjoy singlehood while he can. Yet you remember being in your late twenties and how those comments just made you feel worse. All the same, that feels so long ago. 

“I know what you did,” he says. 

“Pardon?” You sputter in confusion. 

“I know Alan got me. I overheard him when we got our names.” 

“Oh,” you’re speechless but for that single syllable. 

“It’s alright. I know people don’t always get me but... you know, you didn’t have to do all that just for me,” he shifts sheepishly on his feet, his cheeks tinging as he looks at the floor. 

“Well, it isn’t fair, is it?” You say. 

“Yeah, but...” He looks up shyly from behind his glasses, “you must be a good mom. And a good wife.” 

You’re not sure how to reply, “thank you? I try.” 

“Your kids and husband are very lucky,” he smirks. 

“Sure, I’m not sure they think so,” you say. “Waiting around for me to come home...” 

You go to turn back to your desk, but he’s quicker than you. He startles you as he grabs the arm of your chair and keeps you facing him. You press yourself against in as he bends over you. 

“Doesn’t sound like they appreciate you,” he says. 

“Jensen,” you murmur, “that’s... no, they’re my family. They do.” You spread your fingers over your thighs nervously. “Can you back up?” 

You cry out as he answers the question by pushing your chair back against the desk. The impact jars you as he leans in, closer and closer. You flatten yourself to the thin cushion and he plants a kiss on your forehead. 

“I appreciate you,” he whispers, his nose tickling your hairline.  

“Jensen, please, that’s not--” 

“Shhhh,” he hushes you as he drops to his knees before you. “I disabled the cameras...” 

“Jensen, what?” You squirm and grab the armrests. You try to push yourself to your feet and he slaps his hand against your stomach, shoving you back down. “Get off--” 

“They don’t treat you right. No one does.”  

"Jensen, that's sweet of you to say but please--" 

"Let me be sweet to you," he begs as he clings to your knees, thumbs sliding under the hem of your skirt.  

You grab the fabric as he tries to slide it up. You put your other hand on his chest as you sit forward. "No, okay, I know the holidays are hard but--"  

"I just wanna give you a gift. Since you gave me one," he purrs.  

"It's-- no, okay," you grab his wrist and your other hand slips up to shove his shoulder. "I'm married." He bends his head to brush his chin against your knuckles, like a cat eager for pets. The gesture fills you with pity, but cannot undercut your revulsion. "I said--" You push him again and he twists his arm free of your grasp.  

He grabs your wrists and lifts your hands. He squeezes and you feel his strength; even if he wasn't younger, you'd be just as helpless. He pulls your arms and puts your hands against his head. You feel the soft short bristle and shudder. He covers your hands with his and holds them snug.  

"Don't let go," he commands. His voice deepens, a razor's edge in his words. You stare at him dumbly. You don't dare disobey. It's as if your body is not your own as it refuses to respond to your fear. That inner plea is smothered by the pounding of your heart.  

He lets you go cautiously and drops his hands to your thighs. You flinch and let out a squeak. He glides down the pushes his hands under the fabric, hooking it with his thumbs as he forces it higher. You shiver at the sensation of his palms against your stockings.  

As he grazes along the naked skin above, you whimper. He hooks his hands around your hips and runs them under you, lifting you slightly to rumple your skirt below your waist. You shake as your hands remain glued to his head. 

You watch yourself from above as the scene plays out. The dimples in your thighs quake as horror floods your body. He slowly bends to press the tip of his nose against the front of your panties. He prods you through the fabric and hums. He swirls around, teasing you through the tenuous layer. 

Your hands fall away but he doesn’t notice. He’s too fixated on his prize. He tilts your hips, pulling you down in the chair as he moves your legs around him. Your lip trembles and your teeth grit, eyes hot in disbelief and disgust. How is this happening? 

He brings your knees over his shoulders then runs a finger up the back of your plain white cotton panties. The type that hardly get your husband in such a furor. He traces the edge and tugs it aside. 

You cry out as his tongue flicks along your folds. It feels like the first time all over again. You’re not neglected, just overworked and overtired. You don’t have the energy or the time. It doesn’t mean you’re lonely. Just busy. 

He pushes his face deep and laps you up, spreading his tongue as he tastes you with a growl. You clench the armrest, your other hand catching the top of his head as you try to urge him away. You croak and your cries crackle in the air. 

“Jensen,” you squeal. 

He pokes his tongue along your entrance and drags it up to your clit, then back down again. The tendrils crawl down your thighs as he reaches blindly for your hand. He moves it behind his head and presses it there. As he does, he nuzzles into you. 

He wiggles his head as he drinks you up. Your legs tense and your fingernails dig into his scalp between the short stubble of his hair. His glasses are crushed against your pelvis, forgotten as he devours you. You whine and close your eyes but you can still see yourself, like you’re watching a movie in your head. 

You see yourself giving in, melting into him, clinging to him as the coil winds tighter and tighter. As your orgasm builds, you feel yourself splitting into two. There is the body curled up in the chair, wrapped around his head, and the consciousness watching from outside.  

And it all evaporates into pleasure. Into forgotten wrongs and broken morals. Reality gives way to escape as you give into the stolen delight erupting from head to toe, as you give in to this man on his knees before you, begging you with the flick of his tongue. 

[cheynovak]

Soft Touch

Jensen Ackles x Y/N f/reader

Summary: Jensen and Y/N are secretly dating, when Y/N sees Jensen having a rough interview she finds a way to calm him down, right on the spot.

English isn't my first language.

Did not proof read, mistakes are possible

Please do not copy my work. likes/sharing/comments are appreciated

The studio was buzzing, the usual organized chaos of production day filling the air. Jensen, the charismatic star of Supernatural, was gearing up for yet another interview, his last one had a difficult and not to please interviewer, this time it was all about the upcoming season and 'Dean's love life' Dean was more than just a pretty face to the show, Jensen wanted to clarify that, but the interviewer didn't seem to want to hear it.

As he sat in front of the set, adjusting his shirt and chatting with the reporter, Y/N watched him from the sidelines.

She was supposed to be packing up her makeup and hairstyling kit for the day, but her attention was locked on Jensen. His posture was just a bit too stiff, his hand running through his hair—a telltale sign of nerves.

"He's overthinking again," Y/N murmured to herself.

Grabbing her comb and a small bottle of texturizing spray, she made her way over, slipping through the crew with practiced ease. She caught the tail end of Jensen laughing at a question, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Excuse me for just a second,” she said politely, flashing the reporter an apologetic smile. Jensen turned his head at her voice, his green eyes softening instantly.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a mixture of relief and surprise.

Without a word, Y/N stepped close, reaching up to fix his slightly mussed hair. She knew her touch would ground him. As her fingers slid through his locks, gently brushing and smoothing, she let her nails lightly graze his scalp.

Jensen’s reaction was immediate. His shoulders relaxed, his tension melting under her gentle ministrations. He let out a soft breath, trying to stay professional, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a small, private smile.

“Better?” she whispered, her voice low enough for only him to hear.

“Much,” Jensen murmured back, tilting his head ever so slightly toward her touch.

Her hands lingered for a moment longer before she stepped back, giving him an encouraging smile. “Knock 'em dead.”

Jensen nodded, his confidence visibly restored. As Y/N walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder, catching the way his gaze followed her.

Later that evening, Jensen came home to the soft hum of the TV. The smell of lavender and something sweet lingered in the air, the kind of comforting scent he associated with her.

Y/N was curled up on the couch under a thick, cozy blanket, her legs tucked up beneath her. A mug sat on the coffee table, half-forgotten as she watched a rom-com unfold on the screen.

Jensen shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and walked toward her.

“Rough day?” Y/N asked, not looking away from the screen but patting the space beside her.

Instead of sitting, Jensen sank to his knees by the couch, leaning his head against her thighs. Y/N immediately shifted, lifting the blanket to cover him as he sprawled against her lap.

“Rough interviews,” Jensen muttered, his voice muffled against her leg.

Her fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, combing through it softly. She knew just how to soothe him, her nails gently scratching his scalp in that way he loved. This time, Jensen didn’t fight it. His eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a long, contented sigh.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth.

Y/N smiled down at him, her heart swelling. “I think I have an idea.”

Jensen reached up blindly, his fingers finding her thigh and giving a gentle squeeze. "I love you," he said, his words quiet but filled with conviction.

“I love you too,” she whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

As the movie played on, Jensen relaxed completely in her lap, feeling safe, loved, and utterly at home.

--

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[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Twelve: [Bring Me The Horizon]

Summary: After Jensen and Jake finish their face-off, you tell Jake how it is. He practices the art of holding himself accountable for his actions, and you get a call that would send you into a downward spiral. Putting you in jeopardy right before your surgery.

Warnings: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.1k

Author Note: WOW and we’re back baby. Another year has passed us by and we are finishing this series. Strap in for the final three episodes of this roller coaster of a series. You never know where we might just end up.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The triangular theory of love is a theory developed by Robert Sternberg. In the context of interpersonal relationships, the three components of love according to the triangular theory are, intimacy, passion, and a decision/commitment component. For Jake, he felt like love was more than just a triangular theory. Love is all-encompassing in every aspect of life. And if you look closely, love can be seen all around us in all different forms. 

“Bradshaw, now’s not the time man,” Jake sighed as he made his way back down the hospital hallway to your room, walking with his shoulders down and his ego battered and bruised. “I gotta fix an issue and my head’s not–” Before Jake could finish his sentence, Rooster interrupted with a crucial question he needed answered now. 

“How is your mother gonna react when I show up to take your kids?” The genuine concern in Bradley’s voice was clear enough for Jake to stay on the line as he walked. “Do I need to be concerned about her calling the cops?” 

“Dude,” Jake groaned to himself in frustration as he walked with purpose down the hall. He could feel his rage and frustration bubbling to the surface with every step he took. Who did this Jensen guy think he was? Who did Jake think he was? You didn’t ask for any of this and you definitely didn’t deserve his tantrum before. “She’s not gonna call the cops on you, just tell her to call me if you have any issues and get Jas to help you.” 

“Your mother is a terrifying woman–” Rooster added, just to rub salt into Jake’s already existing childhood wounds. 

“Well, at least she’s alive.” Jake had never regretted a sentence more in his life. The second he realised what he’d said and who he was speaking to, his heart fell straight out of his arse. “Bradshaw I didn’t mean–” Before Jake had a chance to speak, before he had a chance to explain that he wasn’t talking about Carole—he was talking about you—the line went dead. 

“Fuck!” Jake looked at his phone screen to see the call had indeed been ended. He felt the panic inside his chest. The guilt. 

Jake had developed a pretty uncanny ability to fuck things up. He couldn’t help himself at the moment. He was having a hard time regulating his emotions. It never had been his strong suit, but now it was worse than ever. Perhaps the idea of losing you forever was the cause. Jake couldn’t accept the possibility that there was a good to fair chance you might not walk away from this fight. 

But he could see the bottom of your bed again and where your feet were underneath the breathable hospital blanket that did nothing to keep you warm. With every step Jake took in the hall, he got closer and closer to where he’d left you. And with every step he took he tried to formulate an apology that would reflect his utter sorrow. His pain. His guilt. You were the first person that deserved an apology for Jake’s actions. Bradley would just have to wait. 

In hospitals, people see addiction every day. It’s shocking how many kinds of addiction exist. It would be far too easy if it were just drugs, alcohol and cigarettes people were addicted to. The hardest part about kicking an addiction is wanting to kick it. I mean we get addicted for a reason, right?

Often, too often, things start as a normal part of your life and at some point, cross the line into obsessive needs, compulsive out of out-of-control desires. It’s the high people chase. The high that makes everything else…fade away. But nothing could make Jake Seresin fade away. Nothing so far had helped you kick the addiction. Not even when you left. 

The harsh reality about addiction is it never ends well. Because eventually, whatever it is that was getting you that high…stops feeling good and starts to hurt. So when the very person you were addicted to walked back into your hospital room, the hurt started all over again well and truly after the high had died down. 

“Okay,” Jake stopped in his tracks when he saw that look in your eyes. Although a sense of calm washed over him the second he saw you again, he knew he was probably the last person you wanted to see after the way he behaved before. “I recognised I’m in the wrong here.” It was the look he wished he’d never been on the receiving end of again. A look of disappointment mixed with anger, hatred, and, above all, sadness. “I owe you an apology.” 

“No thanks,” The tone you conveyed was sinister. There was no warmth. No love. No room for compassion or empathy. “I’m not interested in another empty apology.” You didn't even look Jake’s way. You just continued on with the little word finder you had picked up in Jensen and Jake’s absence. “If you’re done swinging your dick around in the hall like a psychopath, I need to rest.” 

Jake was stunned. He wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew he deserved that. He knew he’d taken things too far. He knew he’d flown over the handlebars the second Jensen stepped into your room. But it was all out of fear of losing you. Why couldn’t you see that? Jake felt as if he could stand right in front of you and you’d look straight through him. 

“Honey, don’t be like that,” Jake sighed as he took a few steps towards your bedside. The bouquet Jensen had brought you was lying haphazardly on the little bedside cupboard. “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did alright, I know, and I promise you I’m trying here.” Jake sighed as he looked at the flowers another man had gone out of his way to buy you. A dying man. 

A dead man walking. 

“I’m glad you’re self-aware,” You replied yet again without paying any mind to Jake’s whereabouts in your room. “Never really was your strong suit.” You murmured just loud enough for Jake to hear your mild insult. You could have said it louder, hell, you should have. But regardless of Jake’s actions…he was an addictive drug. One that made it incredibly hard to kick the habit. One you knew you’d go back to. One you wished loved you the same way you loved him. 

“Jensen knocked some sense into me,” Jake tried his best to explain all the while he tried to hold back the lump in his throat. The kind of lump that brought tears and panic attacks with it. “He was kind enough to set the record straight.” 

“You understand how big of a piece of shit you have to be to say what you said, right?” It was the first time your tone had changed. There was something beyond painful in the way you spoke. Something Jake had tried time and time again not to be the cause of. Heartbreak. Betrayal even. “You jealous, insecure man.” 

For a second, Jake absorbed the blow. He took it on the chin like a champion because nothing you were saying was wrong. He was scared of losing the love of his life in a way that wasn’t just through marriage. 

“I know,” Jake replied as he picked up the bouquet and looked around. He was looking for somewhere to put them. Somewhere to display the beauty that they emulated. Beauty that reflected you. Where could he get a jug or something to put these in? “I don’t have an excuse to give you, honey,” Jake was trying his best to stick to the honesty is the best policy crap he’d been taught as a child. “I’m just, I got so worked up when he came in here knowing more about you than I did and–” 

“Jensen is a friend from group therapy,” You explained yet again. “And this is the last time I’m gonna say it before I let you run off with whatever version of a warped reality you wanna believe but I swear, there isn’t anyone else.” You sat up a little straighter in your bed as you closed your find-a-word book. “I have cancer, Jake. In what world would anyone want me?” 

“You love her, don’t you? You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake could hear himself asking the all-important question. He could see himself standing in the hall with the man who had selflessly intertwined his life with yours in order to make you feel less alone in the world.

“Maybe–” Jake vividly heard Jensens reply as he stood staring at the tears that fell down your cheeks. Tears he was the very cause of. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” 

“Me?” It was the sincerity in Jake’s voice that broke you as he put the bouquet down where he’d originally found it and made his way to sit beside you on your bed. “I want you forever and the very idea that some guy—some guy I know is a better man than I will ever be—brought you, my wife, flowers when I didn’t? Kills me.” 

“I don’t care about the flowers,” You sighed as Jake wrapped you up in his arms. 

“I know, but I let my own insecurities out in a way I never should have and I’m so sorry for the things I said. You don’t deserve that, ever.” It was genuine. The apology for his actions. Jake knew he was in the wrong with how he acted out. You could very clearly see that he was truly sorry. But letting him know that now would have been too easy. 

The pair of you sat in your hospital bed for the better half of five minutes silently enjoying each other’s presence and gentle touch. Until you broke. 

“I hope you aren’t expecting me to say apology accepted?” You smiled softly as you nuzzled into Jake’s chest a little more. Finding a comfortable position to rest in as you sunk lower in the hospital bed that wasn’t built for two fully grown human beings. 

“Nope,” Jake chuckled as he kissed the top of your head, freshly shaved and matching his own. “And I don’t think Rooster is gonna be accepting any apology I give him anytime soon, so the list is growing.” 

“What happened with Rooster?” You asked cautiously. You felt the tension take over your husband’s body as he processed what you‘d just asked. Jake held you a little tighter as he once again kissed the top of your freshly shaved head. The notes of your shampoo must have seeped into your scalp. He could still vividly smell the residual fragrance of bergamot. 

“Nothing that can’t be explained,” Jake sighed softly. He hated himself with a deep-rooted passion right now. The one thing he wanted to do more than anything else was take you home and pretend everything was alright for just one night. But he couldn’t do that. “Please, don’t worry about my mistakes when you have so much on your plate already. I’ll figure it out. Rooster and I always do.” 

“Hmm,” You replied with hesitation as you let your eyes close. The lup-dup of Jake’s heartrate soothed your soul, a heart that begged to be loved in all the ways he deserved to be loved. “I hope so. Martha Stewart’s best and closest friend said the words that sent her to prison,” You explained all the while Jake’s fingers drew unidentifiable objects into the supple skin of your forearm, careful not to mess with any of the tubes attached to you. It was grounding. “So whatever happened between you and Bradshaw I hope you fix it before he spills all your dirty little military secrets.” 

“Good thing you’re a true crime author, huh?” Jake smiled with a reluctance to give in to his biggest desire. What would be the repercussions of sneaking you out of this hospital right now? 

“No way you’re ending up in one of my books anytime soon,” You giggled softly. Jake felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of your happiness. You felt it too. The moment his heart decided it needed a second to process the laughter you let out. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, honey,” Although the circumstances said otherwise, for a second Jake felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. To be loved by you. To be the one you called home. To be the man you chose would forever be Jake’s greatest accomplishment in life. “I could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve you in any of them.” 

************************

“No signs of life.” 

There’s a reason surgeons learn to wield scalpels. They like to pretend they’re hard, cold scientists. They like to pretend they’re fearless. But the truth is they become surgeons because somewhere, deep down, they think they can cut away that which haunts us. 

Weakness, frailty, death. 

It isn’t just surgeons. It’s paramedics too. First responders like to think they have a hand in what fate holds for you. They believe that if they can move a little quicker, stop the bleeding a little faster, and save you from life-threatening injuries, they can give you extra time. Even for just a day. 

But the truth is, we don’t know a single person who isn’t haunted by something…or someone. And whether people try to slice the pain away with a scalpel, pull someone from a car wreck, or shove it in the back of a closet…our efforts usually fail. 

So the only way we can clear out the cobwebs is to turn a new page or put an old story to rest…finally, finally…to rest. 

“Do we have any information on the victim?” Ilona shook her head as her unit chief looked around the scene. A single-car accident. The mangled wreck of twisted aluminium and shattered glass really painted a telling tale of destruction. No one could have survived the magnitude of injuries that they would have sustained on impact. 

“I’ll see if one of the guys picked up a phone or something, perhaps it’s still viable,” Ilona replied in a monotone voice. She was new to the horrors that her job sometimes brought with it. The hurricane forced winds that would sometimes knock her right off her feet. But she was learning how to work through the plethora of different emotions in a professional manner. “Poor guy, what do you think happened?” 

The black body bag laid out on the stretcher was a not-so-gentle reminder that life was a precious gift. Paramedics carried the deceased man until they were loading him into the back of the van. No sirens would be needed for this particular patient. 

“Crash investigation should have a report for us in about a week,” Taylor, the unit chief, replied as he watched the doors to the ambulance close with a thud. “We’ll need to get an ID as soon as possible to inform the family.” 

“I have a phone!!” Ilona heard the explanation from one of her co-workers. She turned with a grin on her face back to her boss. 

“We have a phone,” She repeated. “I’ll get right on it chef.” 

************************

Lydia still felt awful. She hadn’t quite shaken the existential dread that came with her almost career-ending mistake. She sat behind the desk at the nurses station just replaying the events back in her mind. How could she just assume someone to be someone’s emergency contact? 

In retrospect, Lydia now understood clear as daylight that relationships were interpersonal and held deeper value than what was on paper. Jake Seresin may not have been your emergency contact, but he sure was the love of your life. 

“You want me to do her observations?” Lydia heard one of her colleagues ask with a snicker. They all knew by this point in time what she had done. But now wasn’t the time to retreat and fall back. If she wanted to get past this, she needed to put on a brave face. 

“Nope,” Lydia shook her head as he rose to her feet. “I’ve got it,” She explained with a faux smile. “Is he not intimidating?” 

“Mr. Seresin?” Her colleague, Rebecca, replied with a mouthful of two-minute noodles she’d been scoffing down in the small window of reprieve. “Guy’s like a labrador. I mean, that is if you didn’t fuck up his wife’s chart badly enough to call the wrong person labelled clearly as an emergency contact.” 

“Ha. Ha.” Lydia barely had the time or the energy to humour her coworkers as they giggled and snickered as she made her way into your room. Jake was wide awake. He hadn’t noticed Lydia standing in the threshold of the door. But Lydia noticed how he held you with such care as you slept soundly. 

“Oh,” She cooed softly as she knocked her knuckles against the door. “Sorry to interrupt Mr. Seresin but I need to take some observations for Dr. Ignati.” 

“Would it be alright if she slept for even just five more minutes?” Jake was quick to advocate on your behalf. He could tell just how tired and overwhelmed with everything you’d become. Now that he was here and by your side, he was going to make sure you got the best possible treatment there was to offer. 

Lydia looked around at the Christmas lights that hung around your room. They twinkled and changed colour on a whim, never staying the same colour for long. The way they hung like they’d been thrown all over the place added a joyful smile across her face. 

“I’m sure I can take my time,” Lydia agreed as she approached your bedside. “How’s she been feeling?” 

“As good as you’d expect to feel given the circumstances, kid,” Jake replied with a yawn. He was able to stretch his limbs a little as he did so. Although, with every move he cautiously made, Jake was careful not to disturb you. “I assume her surgery is still going ahead as planned?” 

“As far as I’m aware,” Lydia confirmed as she checked over your chart and wrote down what she saw on your monitors. “Dr. Ignati should be around earlier in the morning to discuss everything once more.” 

“How long have you been working here?” Jake asked. He thought some small talk would be beneficial for not only him but for Lydia too. He could tell the question struck a nerve but pressed on nevertheless. “Because if I’m being perfectly honest, it doesn’t seem like very long.” 

“Eight months now,” Lydia replied with a short tone. Jake chuckled to himself as he watched her cross out what she had previously written and wrote down what she had originally intended. “Can you tell I’m also not very good at my job?” 

“It doesn’t seem out of ignorance,” Jake offered up his version of advice. “I just think you’re rushing things.” The advice didn’t fall on deaf ears like Jake thought it might. Instead, Lydia stopped what she was doing and took a nice deep long breath in. “In my line of work, things can go wrong in the blink of an eye,” Jake explained as he gently rubbed small circles into the palm of your hand with his thumb. If he was careful, he could feel the throbbing of your pulse point. “Gotta learn how to trust your instincts.” 

“My last instinct was that you were your wife’s emergency contact,” Lydia didn’t feel as if she needed to remind Jake of her biggest mistake of all time, but she did anyway. Jake understood what it was like to stay hung up on mistakes he couldn’t change. But he knew what he was about to say next would ease the burden Lydia was feeling. 

“Honestly, that’s more on me than it is on you,” Jake sighed as you stirred in his arms. He hoped you‘d stay asleep for just a little longer. You needed it. You deserved to rest soundly. 

“How so?” Lydia asked softly as went back to her duties. What Jake said to her next, however, had Lydia looking at the situation she found herself in from a different perspective. And sometimes a little perspective is all you need. 

“Well, I shouldn’t have let it get to a point where I wasn’t.” 

************************

Life gets easier when you realise that there’s no such thing as a wrong decision. Decisions are simply pivots. Each one you make will take you down a new road that will likely be both magic and miserable. Beautiful and ugly. That’s because life is a polarity. Easy doesn’t exist without hard. Good doesn’t exist without bad. 

There is no right or wrong answer. Trust that whatever decision you make can always be followed by another decision. 

“I hate this,” You mumbled as you walked to the bathroom with your IV support poll. “I already hate all of this so much.” You knew you were feeding into the depression, but you couldn’t help but feel down in the dumps about your current situation. 

“I think everything you’re feeling is valid, honey,” Jake answered as he trailed behind, giving you the independence he knew you wanted to keep but also staying close by in case you needed him. “After surgery–” Jake couldn’t even finish the sentence he’d planned to speak into existence.

“Don’t mention surgery,” You interrupted as you made your way over to the shower. “I don’t even wanna think about the surgery tomorrow.” 

“You do know that even if you ignore it, you still have to have surgery?” Jake asked as he frowned his brows and looked at you through the mirror. “We’re on the same page about that, right?” 

“What if I told you I’m just scared and don’t want anything to happen while I’m cut open like a fish?” You sassed as you looked back at Jake through the mirror. “If something happens–” 

“Hey, nothing's gonna happen,” Jake was quick to close the small gap between the two of you. He stood so close that your back pressed up against his chest. His eyes never left yours through the mirror you stood before. “I won’t let anything happen to you, or the kids for that matter.” 

“You left the kids with your mother,” You reminded your husband as he pressed his lips into a tight line of regret. “That alone is gonna cause them enough trauma Mr. ‘I won’t let anything happen to the kids’”

“You wound me, sweetheart,” Jake sighed as he tilted his head back and let out a sigh. “Besides, it’s actually you she hates, not the kids,” 

“Do you wanna help me shower or not?” You finally turned around to stand face-to-face with Jake. He was already smirking ear to ear. And it didn’t take long at all before his hands were dropping to your waist, slowly but surely making their slightly calloused way to the exposed skin of your ass. The hospital gown left little to the imagination. Jake wasn’t complaining. 

“When have I ever passed up the opportunity to see you naked?” Jake replied with a smirk you recognised was laced with lust. You felt him squeeze softly at your arse cheek playfully. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” You giggled as Jake made sure to count the staples on your head. He knew whatever came next would have to be soft. It would have to be gentle and full of love. Not that it ever wasn’t full of love. 

“You drive me crazy, honey,” Jake explained as he caught your lips with his. You couldn’t help but to melt into his body as you kissed him back. Jake’s hands kneaded at the handfuls of arse he never wanted to let go of as he moaned into your mouth. 

The feeling was electric. The moan your husband let out sent shivers down your spine. It was an animalistic attraction that you’d tried so hard to suppress in your separation. But no toy on earth could satisfy you like Jake could. Not even when they were bought with his money. 

“I love you so much,” Jake cooed as he pulled back just enough to let his forehead rest against yours. “You’re gonna get through this, I promise,” He left it at that as you wrapped your arms around his waist for a much-needed hug. 

When you let go, you took a moment to drink in the sight of your husband. You stared at all the perfect little imperfections that littered his skin. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than normal. That was to be expected though. 

“Jake?” You cooed as you reached up to swipe the pad of your thumb across his lower lip. 

“I’m right here,” Jake replied as he kept his eyes closed. If he opened them he knew the tears he was trying so desperately to keep in would fall. If he cried in front of you he'd never be able to stop himself. 

“I need you to wake up for me, alright?” 

“What did you say?” Jake frowned as he opened his eyes and looked at you all confused. He knew what you said. He heard it crystal clear. But he needed you to repeat it. He needed to hear you say it again, just once. The fluorescent bathroom light flickered as he stared at you. For a second…Jake stood alone in a hospital room he didn’t recognise. Only for him to find himself standing right before you again in the blink of an eye. “Honey?” 

“I said I need you to get my phone for me?” You repeated calmly. “My phone is ringing and if I try to race to it I won't get there in time.” The explanation fit the response you gave him. Jake thought for a moment there he was going crazy. He needed more sleep, that was without a doubt the answer to his second of madness. 

Jake silently nodded in agreement before he kissed your forehead. He was only gone for a few seconds before he returned with your phone. Still ringing. 

“Who is it?” You asked as you reached out to take your phone from Jake. By the look smeared across his face, it wasn't someone he necessarily liked. 

“It’s your boyfriend,” Jake teased as he handed you your phone. Based on that comment alone you knew it was Jensen. 

“Careful Seresin,” You teased lovingly, hoping Jake believed what you had told him earlier. “He might be my next husband if you don't play your cards right.” 

Jake knew you were kidding and if anything he deserved that comeback. He didn't like the guy, that much was true. But he could see how having someone who knew what it was like to not know your own body could be beneficial to the mind. 

“You caught me at a bad time,” Jake watched as you answered the phone and held it up to your ear. “I–oh,” You paused. The immediate worry that took over the expanse of your face was enough to have the little hairs on the back of Jake's neck standing on edge. 

“Jensen Huges–” The name hung heavy in the air around you as you listened to the woman on the other end of the line. According to her, there had been a small piece of paper tucked into the phone case of this particular phone at the scene of an accident. Your name. Your number. “Oh, no, no don't tell me that,” You begged. 

Jake was unable to hear what was being said in the silence, but as he watched your eyes well with tears, he knew. 

“Y/n, give me the phone, honey,” He whispered as he gestured to your phone. You shook your head in response as you continued to listen to the woman who had introduced herself as Ilona. A police officer with the Rhode Island police. “Sweetheart?” Jake cooed as he reached out for you. The second his fingertips grazed your shoulder…You fell. “Shit–” 

“NOOOOOOO!” The guttural scream you let out scared Jake to his very core. He’d never in his life heard you sound the way you did as you crumbled on the floor in the bathroom. “NOOOOOO!” 

“Baby, baby I'm here, what happened?” Jake asked softly as he cupped your face in his hands. Your phone was long forgotten. It had crashed down when you did. “Tell me what happened so I can help you, honey?” 

“He–he left me,” You managed to gasp out between sobs. “And I can’t–I can’t breathe, Jake, I ca–” 

“Hey, I’ve got you,” Jake promised you as he held you tightly in his arms. “It’s gonna be alright,” Jake seemed to have been in the business of making promises he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep. He had no fucking idea if things would be alright. But he needed them to be. 

“I can't do this without him,” You cried out in utter anguish. “He, he was the st-strongest,” Jake could tell where this was going as you struggled to speak through your grief-stricken sobs. “If he—then I,” 

“I’ve lost count of all the rooms you've been tall in Y/n,” It broke his heart to see you like this. So full of heartbreak. So full of hopelessness. “You gotta keep fighting, I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” 

“I don't know how to!” You admitted to not only yourself but to your husband as well. “I don't know how!” 

“I’m right here, honey,” Jake held you as tight as he could on the bathroom floor. “You don't have a choice,” He explained as you cried your heart out in a way Jake had never seen you cry before. He could hear your voice echoing in his head. 

“You need to wake up,”

“You need to wake up,”

“You need to wake up,”

“Don't give up on me now Y/n, I can't lose you to this alright?” Jake felt his own tears streaming down his cheeks. The tears he no longer had the strength to fight. The way you willed yourself to wake up from this nightmare you were living broke his heart into pieces. The tears he no longer had the strength to fight. “Please, you gotta keep fighting this.” 

“He was the stronger one,” You replied as you cried yourself into a ball in Jake's arms. Clutching at his arms as your nails dug into his forearms. Grief was a funny thing. “I can't–” 

“You have to,” Jake cried with you. He was losing the love of his life and there was nothing he could do to stop this nightmare from happening. “I’m gonna be right here every step.” 

“I just want you to wake up,” It was all you said. Jake knew he heard you that time. He heard you loud and clear… “Please, don't leave me,” 

But he had no idea what you were saying. 

**********************************

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @marvelogic

@itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional

@jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere

@withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30

@accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

[little-diable]

Midnight Hotline - Dean Winchester (smut)

After meeting Jensen Ackles this weekend, I simply needed to write a Dean drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: For weeks now, Dean has been calling the Midnight Hotline to speak to Lilith, a stranger he has fallen in love with while sharing his secrets and confessions. And now as they are in the same city, it’s finally time to meet.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), strangers to lovers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.7k words)

“Midnight Hotline, this is Lilith speaking.” Her voice rang in his ears, instantly drawing a smile to his lips. He had to clear his throat before speaking up, sinking further into the leather seat as his eyes stared down on the city.  

“Hi, Lilith. It’s me.” The chuckle rumbling through her made his heart skip a beat. A by now all too familiar warmth began to spread through him, instantly distracting him from the grim feeling he hadn’t been able to shake. 

“Bobby! I was waiting for your call.” He still wasn’t used to the name he had given her weeks ago, knowing that he couldn’t share any personal details with the voice on the other end of the line. Dean hadn’t given the name much thought, it had instantly come to mind to comfort himself when he needed strength to move on. Strength only she managed to give him lately - her, the voice of a woman he didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was busy, but I missed talking to you.” The words rolled off Dean’s tongue before he could stop them, trying to ignore the heat now spreading through his cheeks. He fumbled with the zip of his leather jacket, needing to find something he could use to distract himself from the sensations her voice pushed through him.

“Oh, I missed you too! Were you travelling again?” A deep hum left Dean while he wondered how she wore her hair today, what she wore and how she was feeling now, talking to him. Weeks ago he had asked her for a description of herself, it hadn’t been much, besides her hair and eye color, and yet it had been enough to shoot shudders down his spine. 

“I was, I’m in Colorado now.” Her breath shuddered as she exhaled, making him awfully aware of the silence that followed his words. Dean counted the passing by seconds, only allowing the sound of Lilith clearing her throat to interrupt him. 

“I’m also in Colorado.” She whispered the words, making Dean awfully aware of the thoughts now seemingly racing through her mind. 

Could this be their chance? Could this be the moment to break all rules she had once sworn to follow? 

“Where are you at, sweetheart?” Once again she mumbled the reply, leaving Dean to swallow heavily as he stared down at the city whose name she had just dropped. For a moment, he pondered over his choices, wondering if he should go ahead and follow the call of his heart to finally meet the woman who called herself Lilith, or if he should stay away like his mind begged him to. 

“When does your shift end?” His question was met with silence. Perhaps he had gone too far, perhaps she didn’t want to meet him like he desperately wanted to meet her. But the shaky giggle leaving her told Dean all he needed to know. She wanted this as much as he did, bound together by the past weeks, aching to finally meet after imagining the other since their first call. 

“Are we really doing this?” She kept her voice small, seemingly wondering herself if this was a good idea. Dean’s tongue rang along his lower lip, buying his racing heart a few more seconds before speaking up again. 

“We sure as hell are, sweetheart. Where should I pick you up?” 

……

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous. This had something so unfamiliar to it, he had to force his body to stay right there and not to run like he wanted to. For the first time since he could remember, Dean began to doubt the way he may come across, wondering if she felt the same draw he had been trying to swallow and bury six feet under for a while now.

But before he could rerun all the things he wanted to say to her again, the sound of somebody nearing ripped his focus from his phone. He was leaning against Baby, wrapped in his dark jacket to try and shield himself from the cold air of the night, sensations that were forgotten the second his eyes met hers. 

Dean could instantly tell that it was her, carrying a soft smile that made him forget everything around him. His heart was in his throat, pounding louder than it had ever before - all while watching her approach. He allowed his eyes to take her in, wandering up and down her frame, just like hers did with him. Fuck, she was even prettier than he had imagined her to be, a woman so gorgeous, Dean wasn’t sure if he was under some spell, toying with his vision. 

“Bobby?” The sound of her voice forced all darkening thoughts into the back of his mind, purely focused on her. He nodded his head while reaching his hand out for her to take, set on pulling her in for a hug. The scent of her perfume washed through him, forcing Dean’s mind to cling to it with the silent promise of remembering this for the rest of his life. 

Her arms found their way around his middle, letting her head rest against his chest as he hugged her. No word was shared between them, letting their minds catch up with what was happening - something they had been dreaming of and longing for ever since their first call. 

“Hi,” she softly mumbled the word, looking up at him with eyes that seemed to uncover his every secret, instantly leaving Dean breathless. He couldn’t stop his hand from cupping her warm cheek, letting his thumb trace her soft skin as he repeated the word. 

“You’re even more handsome than I imagined you to be.” Her voice didn’t carry much strength as she spoke, just enough to draw a soft blush to his cold cheeks. 

“Well, seems like we got something in common there, you’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” Her smile grew wider at his compliment, keeping her focus on him as she slowly loosened her grip on him. But Dean didn’t let go of her just yet, needing to feel her close for as long as possible. “My real name’s Dean, I’m sorry for keeping that from you.” 

Her laugh left him grinning, watching her shake her head while moving closer once again, “Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m (y/n).” 

Dean had to force himself to snap out of his hazy state, wanting to cross the small distance between them to taste her name on his tongue for the first time before kissing her. But even though his heart urged him on to move, he fought against it, at least for now.

“Are you hungry? Or you want to go for a drink?” She studied him for a handful of seconds, unable to bite down her growing grin. 

“How about you come over to mine? I have some beer at home.” 

……

“Here you go.” She gave Dean a bottle of beer before sitting down next to him, letting her eyes take in every inch of his handsome features. The whole thing felt like a dream, something that was entirely too good to be true, and yet (y/n) tried to cherish every second, not daring to break away from him. “This still feels surreal. What are you even doing around here?”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he took a few sips of beer, buying himself some time before clearing his throat. Dean had his arm placed on the couch, resting behind her to keep (y/n) somewhat close without touching her, just enough closeness to give her the opportunity to shuffle closer and rest against him. A draw both were held hostage by, unable to fight against it. 

“My brother and I had some work stuff to do around here.” A hum left her, eyes fully focused on Dean and the soft smile playing on his lips. She could marvel at him for hours, getting lost in the green pupils that told stories she wanted to uncover one by one, learning everything about the man she had developed a crush on without even seeing him. 

“So, you will leave soon again, won’t you?” He placed the bottle down before fully turning towards her, hand finding her shoulder to let his fingers run along her skin. A sombre feeling began to stretch through the two of them, knowing that their time together wasn’t long and would end sooner than both liked. Dean nodded his head, trying to find words that would promise his return, even though he knew it could be weeks, perhaps even months, until he’d get another chance to return.

“Seems like we’ll have to make the best out of our time then.” The words rolled off her tongue seconds before she shuffled closer, letting her arms find their way around his neck. Three seconds passed until Dean began to move, two shaky breaths left them both, and one mumble of his name was all it took for Dean to kiss her breathless.

Perhaps they were moving all too fast, skipping important steps others clung to. But for the past weeks they had shared more with one another than they had with any other person, set on learning everything about the person on the other end of the line. It felt like they simply belonged together, forming a bond so sweet and sincere, neither had felt this alive before. 

Dean pulled her into his lap, hands resting on her waist to try and ground himself. This was more than just a fun night with a woman he’d never see again. This was everything he had never dared to give in to. This was what he had always feared, being with a woman who held his heart in her hands, giving her the power to toy with him. 

“Will this be a one night thing only?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against his slightly puffy lips, not daring to get lost in his darkening eyes before she had her answer. Dean’s hand found her chin, tilting it upwards to let her eyes find his. 

“Do you want it to be a one night thing?” His raspy voice buzzed through her like lightning striking her trembling body, setting her ablaze with a heat so strong, (y/n) feared she was about to lose control over her body. She had never been one for taking drugs, for chasing highs she couldn’t control, but now she couldn’t care about letting go, not when Dean held her oh so close. 

“No.” It was a simple reply, and yet it was enough to make a smirk grow on his lips. Dean kissed her again before he rose to his feet with her clinging to him, wordlessly letting her guide him towards her bedroom with her finger pointed in the right direction. Carefully, he placed her down on her bed, making room for him to shuffle out of his shirt to expose his naked upper body to her wandering eyes. 

“This is much more than just one night, I will come back to you, sweetheart. I promise.” Her laughter reverberated through the bedroom, leaving Dean chuckling before he tugged on her shirt. Both were a mess of tangled limbs as they undressed, leaving them both in their underwear before he pushed (y/n) down on the mattress, hovering over her. 

His lips kissed their way to her chest, sucking on the spots that made her breath hitch in her chest. Dean was high on her noises, wondering if being with women had always been like this and if he had simply never paid enough attention or if this was all about being with (y/n). Everything about this felt different, a routine he had once known by heart turning into something completely new he never wanted to let go of again. 

“Dean, touch me, please. Been waiting too long for this to happen.” (Y/n)’s impatient words left him chuckling while he undid her bra, exposing her breasts to his excited eyes. Sweet nothings left him as he marked her up, sucking on her hardening nubs and letting his hands palm her skin before moving further down south. Their eyes held contact, connected through every passing moment. 

“You’re so gorgeous, baby, I can’t wait to have my way with you.” She mewled his name, eyes fluttering close as he pressed a kiss to her clothed heat. Slowly, Dean pulled her panties down her legs, letting the fabric drop to the ground before kissing his way to her pulsing bundle. A moan clawed through (y/n) at the new sensation, high on the feeling of his rough tongue brushing against her bundle, on the way he brushed two fingers through her slit to spread her arousal on her warm skin. “You taste so sweet, fuck, I could do this forever.” 

“Make me cum, please, Dean. I need you.” (Y/n) arched her back off the mattress, toes curled as her orgasm crept closer and closer. He sucked on her bundle, drawing another moan from her that left him grinning in success. Dean wanted to see her cum when he was buried deep inside of her, knowing that he couldn’t drag this out much longer. “I want you so bad, make me yours.”

“You’re already mine, sweetheart. I’d be stupid to let you go again.” He let go of her to step out of his boxers, hand finding his hard cock to give it a few tugs. (Y/n) momentarily shuffled away from her spot, reaching for a condom Dean rolled down on his length, leaving both nervous for a second as he positioned himself. 

“Oh my god, fuck.” She choked on her words as he sank into her, moving slowly to let them both adjust. Dean pressed his forehead against hers, giving her the opportunity to sling one arm around his neck while the other ran down his back, scratching at his skin. He moved carefully at first, keeping her legs wrapped around his waist while he stretched her perfectly, making her feel full with every thrust. 

“Focus on me, baby.” Their eyes met again, wordlessly sharing their every thought, every longing they struggled to put into words. She felt loved, more loved than ever before, all because of a man she had met for the first time hours ago, even though she knew his darkest and deepest secrets. He felt appreciated and complete for the first time in his life, he had finally found what he had always been searching for, and it had come in the shape of a woman he had fallen head over heels in love with.

Their bodies melted together with every thrust, tangled limbs and racing hearts that formed a completed picture. She whimpered his name, knowing that her orgasm was all too close and ready to bury her six feet under with Dean clinging to her like ancient lovers buried together. Nothing could rip them apart, nothing could stand in their way as they loved one another like they had always ached to be loved. 

“I’m so close, Dean.” Her whispers spurred him on, letting his hand find her bundle to give her the needed pressure. She came first, letting go with another moan as his hips kept snapping against hers. Dean fucked her through her high, watching her unfold beneath him with a proud smirk glued to his lips.

He came moments later, burying his face in the crook of her neck to let the scent of her perfume engulf him. She clung to him, wordlessly trying to find back to reality as both panted, “Never let me go again, Dean.” 

“Never, baby, it’s you and me against the world.”

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Girl at the rock show

Characters: Jensen Ackles (xreader). Steve Carlson. Mentions of other bandmates. Made up bffs.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Drinking, Ended abusive/controlling relationship. Let me know if I forgot any.

Summary: You move to Austin, Texas after you caught your controlling ex-boyfriend with another girl. Your best friend drags you out to a live show on your first night there.

Word count: 5.901 words

A/N: I'm kinda nervous about this one. My first Jensen fic. Hope ya'll enjoy it. 💗

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“Come on, We can’t be late." Mac Yelled from the front door. 

“I'm coming” You yelled back, shoving your I.D. and debit card in your pocket. You took one last look in the mirror above your new dresser. Not too shabby you thought to yourself and walked out your bedroom door. 

Mac let out a whistle as you walked toward her. 

You rolled your eyes. “Calm down, it's a flannel and some jeans.” 

“Um, a tight pair of jeans that hugs those hot curves and an unbuttoned flannel, yes you have an undershirt on,” she said when you opened your mouth to rebuttal. “But the girls still look nice.” 

“Do we really have to go out my first night here? I just got off a plane 5 hours ago,” you said as she hurried you out the door. 

“Yes. One I have been wanting you to check out this band and they don’t play many live gigs. Two. You need fun right now. And ya know what they say is the best way to get over someone.”

“Mackinley Jane! I’m not interested in finding anyone right now,” you said approaching the opposite side of the Uber backseat as her.

“(y/n) I’m not saying go off and get married. I’m saying a night of fun won’t kill you.” she winked. You both plopped in the back seat. She gave the driver the address of the bar. “It's been 3 months and not to be harsh, but do you really think he’s sitting home alone crying over you right now?” her words stung a little. He was probably with the girl you found him with. Or out finding a new one to control. You still couldn't believe you wasted 5 years on that asshole. 

“You’re right. But I highly doubt my night will end under someone new. “ you said the last part in a mocking tone. 

“Just promise that if someone does catch your eye you will give them a chance.”

“No promises, but I will try.”

“I’ll take it.” It was only an 8-minute drive from the apartment to the bar. It took about 10 minutes with traffic. “ You can just drop us on this side street. Thank you.” Mac said handing the driver some cash. You got out and walked around the car meeting her as she got out. 

“I thought you said this band wasn’t that big. Look at this place.” You said as put your arm in hers walking to the back of the line. 

“Well they aren’t selling out the garden, but one of the lead singers is Jensen Ackles.” You gave her a puzzled look. She put her palm to her forehead. “The guy from supernatural? “ Your face didn't change “Big Sky?” You shook your head “The boys? Tracker?”

“Just got out of a 5-year relationship with a controlling douchebag remember?” 

“You haven’t seen pictures or anything?” She whipped her phone out and started googling, 

“Mac! (y/n)!!” you looked up as you heard the familiar voice yell your name. It was Zoey. Mac’s ex-room-mate. She just bought a house and moved out of the apartment. That's what sparked this whole move to a new city idea. Mac put her phone back in her pocket and hugged Zoey. 

“Damn (y/n) you look good,” Zoey said hugging you. “Is this what happens when you drop 200 lbs of loser?” you chuckled. 

“Have you looked in the mirror, Ms little black dress?” you said hugging her back. 

Mac cleared her throat and did a little hair flip with her blonde curls. “Mac you know you always look good my dear,” Zoey remarked. “I’ll meet you guys in there. I don’t wana ditch.” There was only one guy behind you and he insisted Zoey stay where she was. 

You guys got up to the door and you could hear the music. “How much time do we have before they go on?” Mac asked. 

“About 30 minutes,” Zoey said looking at her watch. 

You made your way into the bar. It was a lot bigger than what it looked from the outside. The was a bar on the wall to the right. A decent-sized stage on the wall to the left and a big dance floor between you and the stage. Straight ahead there was a joined room with pool tables. Mac noticed you looking at the tables. “ I don't think we have enough time for a game right now, but after the show?”

“Sure.” It had been so long since you played you probably sucked at it now. James wouldn’t play with you. He said you cheated so there was no point. 

“Come on let’s start drinking,” Mac said as she grabbed your and Zoey’s hands and headed for the bar. 

“Start?” you heard Zoey say. 

Mac handed the bartender her card and started a tab. She turned to you.” Don’t give me that look, we can split it or you guys can pay me back tomorrow. Bud light bottle?” You nodded. “Of course.” she winked. She handed Zoey her drink then you, your beer. Her eyes had been scanning the room since you walked in. 

“Who are you looking for?” You asked her. 

“ The band has been known to have a drink at the bar before their shows. Just thought we’d get lucky.” You rolled your eyes turning to see if there was a table open. 

“Mac there’s a table open come on.” she grabbed her drink and the girls followed you. You made small talk and gossiped waiting for the show to start. You downed the last of your beer. You must have been nervous or something because you finished way before your friends. “I'm gonna go grab another beer,” you said standing.

“Hurry up. They are about to start.” Mac yelled as you walked away.

You made your way up to the bar and stood there waiting for your turn. The bartenders were slammed. 

You leaned against the bar as you ordered. Waiting on your drink your eyes wandered to the left side of the bar, finding the deepest mossy green eyes you had ever seen looking back at you. He was gorgeous with his shaggy brown hair and trimmed beard. Cut off shirt showing off his muscles and tattoos He gave you a flirty nod and you felt your cheeks get warm. Just then someone walked up beside you.

“Hey there beautiful, can I buy you a drink?” the guy was cute, but you had no interest after seeing green eyes across the bar. 

“No thank you..” you kept it short hoping he would take the hint. You looked over at green eyes. He was watching the two of you curiously. 

“Oh come on sweetheart.” 

“Again no.  I'm not interested.” green eyes could tell you were uncomfortable so he made his way over to you. 

The man couldn't take the hint and put his hand on yours. “ Not interested?”

“Yep, that's what she said. Why don't you get your drink and move along.” his voice was deep and angelic. 

“ I am so sorry!” he grabbed his drink and rushed off. Was he really that scared? It's not like green eyes had threatened his life or anything.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”  He smiled. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach stir up. “So you ready for the show?” 

Yeah. I guess so. To be honest I don’t really know the band. My friend dragged me here tonight.” He raised an eyebrow. “ She thinks they’re really good. Although she's just obsessed with one of the lead singers” You took a drink and told yourself to shut up. 

He flashed a smile and leaned just slightly closer to you. The butterflies got bigger. “She must have good taste.” He chuckled. 

Just then the band members came out on stage. Everyone went crazy. One of the guys walked up to 1 of the 2 mics center stage. “Jensen, gonna need you to come to the stage there buddy.” 

“Missing one of the lead singers already.” He said laughing with the crowd. 

“Yea he's probably in the back with a groupie,” you chuckled. 

“Or flirting with a smoking hot babe.” he laughed louder. “I gotta go, but find me after the show okay?” 

You heard Mac's lecture again in your head. You nodded. He smiled and started walking toward the dance floor. You could definitely have a fun night with him or many fun nights... 

You started walking back to the table you froze in place and your jaw hit the floor as he climbed onto the stage. What. The. Fuck.

Green eyes stood at the open center mic. “Alright, Steve I’m here. How’s everyone doing tonight?” The crowd cheered. They introduced themselves and started playing. 

“Mac, who is that guy?” you pointed at him. 

“Babe, that is Jensen Ackles.”

“Like Thee Jensen ackles?” you asked dumbfounded. 

“Yes, Do you wana to find a closer spot with us?” She said looking at you. “What’s with you?”

“Yeah, sure.” you grabbed your beer and explained what just happened to her on the way. “But I’m sure he was just being nice. He saw how uncomfortable the other guy made me and helped a girl out right.”

They continued playing. And they were good. Like really good. It should not be humanly possible to be that damn good-looking and have a voice like that. But there he was. 

“I don’t know. He said to find him after the show. Why say that if he didn't mean it?” she said not taking he eyes away from the stage. 

You rolled your eyes. “He was just being nice, We can stick around and play some pool, but I am not getting my hopes up.”

“Whatever you say.” she swayed and grabbed you making you sway with her. 

“Plus isn’t he married?” 

“Why do you care you're not getting your hopes up?” She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “But they got a divorce a little over a year ago.” 

“I don’t and I’m not.” She gave you a yeah-right look and started spinning you around. Zoey was being spun around too by a hot guy with tattoos and a fohawk. She did like her bad boys. 

The song ended. “ Man, we are burning through them tonight huh? We only have 4 songs left?” Jensen said to Steve. 

“What are you talking about we aren’t even halfway through.”

“Look.” Jensen pointed to his monitor. Steve stepped closer, tapped it a couple of times, and then they both started laughing. “Whoops I skipped ahead a little bit.”

“A little bit?” Steve asked taking off his guitar. “You good?”

Jensen chuckled. “Yeah. This one’s called Forever Ain’t Long.”

The crowd cheered. Mac put her arm around you and you leaned your head against hers. “Are you having fun?” she asked.  You nodded. “Good!”

“Take me to heaven or wherever you're from…” Jensen and Steve started singing as he looked in your direction. Your heart melted in your chest. Oh crap so much for not getting your hopes up…

They played for a good while. “I think we are going to invite someone back up to the stage,” Jensen said 

“We are?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah look.” Jensen pointed to his monitor again, 

“Haha oh yeah.”

“I'm gonna take a break guys, get a drink, maybe towel off. But I’d love to invite Mr Santana Roos back to the stage and play trumpet for ya’ll.” He walked off the stage.

The band continued playing. Steve had a great voice too. Moments later you felt a hand on the small of your back. You turned with your hand in a fist and saw those piercing green eyes. You dropped your hand and he dropped his. “Sorry didn’t mean to startle you.” You heard two gasps coming from behind you. He chuckled. “Hello, ladies.” He said as he looked at Mac and Zoey. They giggled.

“This is Mack. “ Mack put her hand out as you pointed. Jensen shook it. “And this is Zoey.” She put her hand out and shook his. They giggled again. You rolled your eyes and apologized.

“It’s alright,” he said chuckling. He put his hand out to you “ And your name is?”

“(y/n)” You took his hand in yours, electricity flowing up your arm as you touched his skin. 

“Jensen.”

“Well obviously. And you let me ramble on about not knowing the band.” your hand is still in his. 

He chuckled. “It was cute.” Cute? You thought, The butterflies stirring again. “You wanna get a drink?”

You nodded and you told Mac you’d be right back. He twisted your hand and laced his fingers through yours. The butterflies got bigger. Walking through the crowd everyone was taking pictures and he stopped to snap a selfie with a couple of them, but he never let go of your hand. You guys made your way back to the bar. “Bud light Bottle?”

“Yes, please.” He got your drinks and you two walked over to the side of the bar. 

“You enjoying the show?” he asked then took a drink. 

“Eh, They are ok I guess. “

“Ok you guess?” he said smiling. Then took another drink.

“The trumpet player is kinda hot.” He threw his head back and laughed.  

“I can give you his number if you want.” He winked. 

“No thanks. I got my eye on someone else” you winked back. You could swear his cheeks got pink. 

“I gotta get back up there. You still wanna hang out after?”

“I’ll be around.”

“Looking forward to it.” He took your hand and walked you back up to Mac.

“Giirrrrrl!!!” Mac said after he walked away. 

“Shut up.” You said as you started to sway again with her. The song stopped and Jensen came back out on the stage. 

“Hey Steve, “ He said as he returned to the mic. “ I asked a pretty lady if she was enjoying the show.” your cheeks got hot “ Ya know what she said?”

“Hopefully she said yeah.” Steve chuckled. 

“She said Eh the bands ok I guess.” Steve gave him a come-on look. “I know, What do you say we kick it up a notch and do drowning?” The crowd lost their minds as Steve started playing it. 

Mac looked at you” ok you guess?!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your attention snapped to Jensen as he started singing. He was looking you dead in the eyes. Everything and Everyone just drifted away. “Let’s keep it going with the sound of someday.” He looked at Steve and then back at you. The crowd screamed even louder. Again you were entranced. 

“Well buddy since you are on a roll,” Steve said as he started playing another song. The crowd cheered again. You felt kind of jealous you didn't know any of the songs. 

“She wants to know the name of the games he plays..” He was looking at you again. 

Mac leaned into your ear. “How’s those hopes doing?”

“He wants the names of the players in the game to change..”

“Not as low as I want them to be.” You confessed. 

“He's young in years but wise in wonderful ways…”

“One night of fun?” She asked raising her eyebrows. 

“Her faith in love is better on sunny days…”

“We’ll see. Now shush” She smiled but stayed silent. 

The audience cheered again once the song ended. 

Steve looked at Jensen smiling. “Are you done showing off now, Jay?”

“Not even close,” Jensen said chuckling. 

They played for a while more, and then they finished up. Everyone started yelling encore. Steve and Jensen came back out. They played an acoustic song together, and then the whole band came back out and played another. The crowd cheered, and eventually, everyone calmed down and started clearing out. 

“So, you going to find him?”Mack asked you

“No. We are gonna play some pool. I told him I’d be around.” you tried to play it cool, but your nerves were going wild. “I’ll go get us a pitcher and you guys go get a table.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Zoey said. The two of them headed for the pool table room. You made your way up to the bar. You ordered a pitcher and asked for some glasses. You held out your bank card to the bartender. “Uh, Mr Ackles said that all of your drinks were on him tonight.” Really?! No way that was happening you thought. 

“Here just charge it to my card. I’ll deal with Mr Ackles later.”

She ran your card and then gave it back to you. “Here ya go,” she said sliding the tray with the pitcher and some glasses on it. 

“Thank you,” you said taking it and she nodded.

You made your way over to the table in the back where Zoey was ranking up the balls. You sat the tray down and started pouring a beer in three glasses. “You guys wanna play cutthroat?”

“Hm.. Or Mac and I vs you,” Zoey said as she finished the rack. 

“How is that far?” you argued handing her a beer. 

“Oh come on we could get a third and you’d still probably win,” Mac said taking the glass you were handing out to her. 

“Fine, but I break.”

You lined up the shot after picking out your cue and chalking the end of it. You sank the 6 and the 15. You around walking over to your next shot. Your heart sank a little when you didn't see Jensen or any of his bandmates around. Not getting my hopes up you thought to yourself. There was a good shot for the 12 ball so you took it. Then you walked around the table not letting yourself look anywhere else you to your next shot. You missed. Mac managed to get 2 of their balls in before missing. You put another 2 balls in. You went to take your next shot when a commotion at the bar ruined your concentration and you missed. 

“Damnit,” you said as you looked out to the bar. Your heart fluttered when you saw him. He was talking to the bartender. She pointed in your direction and he turned. He smiled as his eyes found you.

“Calm down, you're still winning,” Zoey said walking over to the cue ball.  You walked over to the table and took a drink of your beer. 

“Really?” she said as she picked up her glass. 

“What?”

“I see you.” you squinted your eyes at her. Zoey got one ball in but missed the second shot “You're up.”

You took a deep breath and headed back over to the table. You weren't sure if you were gonna be able to focus on the game right now. Somehow you managed to get a ball in. You let yourself look up as you walked around to your next shot. He was still at the bar, the band happily taking selfies with fans. How sweet you thought. You tried to focus on your shot. 

“See I freaking told you !” Mac said as you put another ball in. “ 2 vs 1 and I still can’t beat you!” you laughed. 

You put your last ball in but missed on the 8. Mac passed you on your way to the high top with a smile on her face. She looked at you then behind you. You turned around and Jensen was headed your way with a big grin on his face. You couldn't help but smile back. He was holding a try with 2 pitchers full of beer. Steve was behind him with glasses in his hand. Three other bandmates followed they also had a pitcher and glasses. They walked over to the open pool table beside yours. 

“Hey, sorry it took forever. We had to go over some things and fans. I have a hard time telling them no.” he said as he sat down the pitchers.

You clicked your tongue. “ I guess I'll give you a pass this time, Ackles.” You said smiling. He smiled back and swirled his body in Steve’s direction. 

“This is Steve. Steve this is (y/n)” 

Steve put his hand out and you shook it “ Ah the pretty lady that thinks we’re ok she guesses.” he smiled. You chuckled. 

You felt Mac behind you. “This is Mac “ You turned and they shook hands. “That’s Zoey.” she got a ball in and came around to shake Steve's hand. 

“Cutthroat?” he asked. 

“No, they combined forces to try to take me down,” you explained. 

Zoey missed her shot. “And we are still going to lose.”

You walked over and called your shot. Everyone was watching which made you nervous, but you still got the ball in. 

Zoey walked over to the table and poured herself another beer. “Damn, I hate this game.” She took a drink. “ You guys can have it.” She made her way over to the other bandmates. 

“Wanna play doubles?” Jensen asked taking a drink. 

“2 conditions.” Mac said “ You rack and I get (y/n)”

“Deal.” Jensen got the rack out and started putting balls in. Steve started walking to the shelves where the cues were “ Hey, grab me one please?” Steve nodded. 

“You break,” you said to Mac as she checked out Jensen who was bent over the pool table getting the balls.  

“Only if you break that,” she said raising her eyebrows. 

“Mackinley.” She rolled her eyes and went to the head of the pool table. You walked over to the high-top table and took a drink. 

Steve walked back holding only one stick. “Uh, sorry Jay this was the last one.” Jensen turned to you and stuck his lip out walking over to you. Then stood beside you still looking at you with his lip still out.  

You sighed “I guess I can share.” 

He chuckled. “How nice of you” matching your playful attitude as he nudged your arm. You smiled. “So I take it you're kind of good at this game?” he asked. 

“Eh, I'm alright.” 

“Alright, you boys ready to lose?” Mac said as she leaned over and broke the rack. Everyone laughed. It was a good break, but no balls went in. Jensen gestured for Steve to go.

“That's what happens when you talk shit,” Steve said, lining up his shot and sinking the 6 ball in. 

You turned to sit your beer down and leaned toward Jensen as he took a drink “Well I guess you got small balls, bud.” He choked on his drink. You laughed and turned back around. Steve missed his shot. “Guess I’m up,” you said and walked over to take your shot.

“You good?” Steve asked, picking up his beer. 

“Yep, just heard something I wasn't expecting.” Steve raised his eyebrows and Jensen told him the joke you told. 

“Damn, she’s spunky huh?” Steve said laughing. 

“She’s somethin’.”Jensen smiling at you as you got a ball in. 

You got 3 more balls in. AC/DC You shook me at night long came on the radio overhead. You started tapping your foot and mouthing the words as you took your next shot. You missed. “Damnit.”

“ You done?” Jensen asked as he put his hand out for the cue. You scrunched your nose and poked your tongue out at him then continued singing. He laughed. 

“I’m just getting warmed up, bud,” he laughed and you gave him the stick. You walked back over to the table. Mac and Steve were talking about the first album he and Jensen wrote.

“You wanna sit and take a break after all that?” Steve asked, smiling and pointing at his chair. 

“Ha, No I’m good.” You turned around in time to watch a ball go in. 

“I told you she was good,” Mac said.

You rolled your eyes. “I'm not that good.”

Jensen sank 3 more balls before Missing. 

“But it looks like she might have met her match.” She said winking at you as she passed Jensen. 

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head. He stood next to you so close you could almost feel his arm on yours. 

“Ignore her. Just talkin’ shit like always.” You said loud enough for her to hear making her laugh. 

Mac took her shot and got one ball, but missed the next shot. “Well, she didn't leave me anything to shoot at,” Steve said as he got up and looked around the table for a good shot. 

“That’s kind of the point.” you heard Mac say as she and Steve started bantering. He lined up for a jump shot. 

“Ohhh, Steve’s getting fancy.” You said in a silly tone causing him and Jensen to laugh.  

“So, she likes AC/DC, Bud Light, and she’s a pool shark who thinks radio company is Eh, ok.” Jensen said shrugging his shoulders which put a grin on your face “And hates supernatural.”

You put a finger up “ I never said that I hated it, I've just never watched it..”

“Explain to me.” He said He put his chin in between his thumb and index finger. Turning his head to look at you. “How do you have a best friend that's obsessed with the show yet you’ve never seen it?” 

“Well, There was a.. a complication,” He stopped with the playfulness and looked in your eyes. “ but it’s gone now. Plus I did just move to Texas. We talked all the time. Living in different states didn't take a huge toll on our friendship, but we didn't talk about TV or media much.” Steve missed his shot. “And this is where it ends, bud.” You reached for the cue he was holding. 

“Oh really?” He said putting the stick in his other hand. It was on the opposite side of you now.  “Why don’t we  make it a little more interesting then?”

“Ha, you got 5 grand on ya there pretty boy?” He let out a belly laugh and you swirled in front of him reaching for the stick. He extended his arm and leaned into your ear. 

“Actually, “ he whispered and your heart stopped as you felt his warm breath tickle your ear. “ I was thinking if we win I could get your number.” 

You don’t know where you found the courage maybe it was the four and a half beers you had. But you turned and whispered back in his ear. “And if we win?” 

You heard the small chuckle as his breath tickled again. “I’ll give you mine.” He stood back up smirking. You rolled your eyes and smiled at him. 

“Bet.” You stuck your hand out. He took it in his and shook it slowly, a smirk still on his face. He handed the stick you to. You took it and spun around. Focus on the game, Focus on the game you thought.  

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” Mac asked quickly as she walked past you. You looked past her to Jensen. He had his back turned pouring another beer. Later you mouthed. She went to sit in the open chair at the high top. Chiming in on Steve and Jensen’s conversation. 

You sank the last 2 balls you and Mac had on the table. You didn't leave yourself a good shot for the 8 ball. There were 2 options. You weighted them for a couple of seconds. You went with one and called it. You stupidly looked up at Jensen who licked his lips and bit the bottom one. Your whole body went numb and you missed your shot. You put your forehead on your arm still leaning on the table and looked at the floor. 

“Took much beer there darlin’, “ Jensen asked approaching you. 

You raised your head squinting your eyes at him. “You know what you did!”

He gave a smirk. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

You stood up and handed him the cue. “Cheater. You said and walked away. You heard him laugh, but you didn't look back. Two can play at that game Mr. Ackles you thought. You made your way back over to the high-top table and took a drink when you got there. Steve and Mac still sitting there, talking about the second album he and Jensen wrote. You nodded here and there, trying to listen for balls to go in. They were so enthralled in the conversation they didn't notice you inching a coaster toward the edge of the table. There’s one you said in your head. A minute later there’s the second. You knew he’d be going to the 8-ball now. You nudge the coaster off the table with your pinky. As you bent over to pick it up you hoped he’d be looking. You picked the coaster up and brought your top half back up slower than usage, but not too obvious. 

“Really Jay? How’d You miss that?” Steve stood up “ I’ll be right back. I got a song stuck in my head.” He headed for the jukebox. Jensen rolled his eyes and sighed walking up to the high top. 

“What?” Mac asked. 

“You wanna guess the song he’s gonna play? He does this to me every time we go out somewhere.” Mac giggled. And you stood there clueless. He turned to you. “ Well hi there kettle you’re black. Calling me a cheater.”

You gave him the same smirk he gave you earlier.” I don't know what you're talking about.” He smiled. Just then Carrying On My Wayward Son started playing. And you started singing it.

“Are you actually fucking kidding me right now?!” Jensens said looking at Mac gesturing to you with his hand. 

“What it’s a good song….” you said confused. 

“Please tell me ya’ll are fucking with me,”

“Sadly Jay we are not. She just likes the song.” Mac said as she got up to go take her shot. 

You started singing again and Jensen looked at you with bewilderment, “Can I help you?”

“This is the theme song of Supernatural” He shook his hands. 

You couldn’t help, but laugh. “ Ohh. It’s a good song.” He put his hand on his face and shook his head. You laughed again. 

Steve made his way back over. “Thanks, man,” Jensen said nodding at him.

“Yeah. No problem man.” Steve said grinning. 

Jensen turned back to “So back to the topic of Supernatural. It came on in 2005, Not to sound like an ass, but do you just not watch t.v or Netflix?

“2005? I was  Pre-Med. Not a lot of time for T.V.” you said and turned around to watch Mac miss the 8-ball shot. You closed your eyes. Game over, you knew Steve would probably make the last shot. 

“You’re a doctor?!” Jensen’s voice raised some.

“No.” you took another drink. He put his hands out palms up waiting for an explanation. “It’s a long story,” you said. He raised his eyebrows once and lowered his hands. Steve called the shot and made it. You turned back to the high top and started cleaning. Both pitchers were empty. “Wasn’t there 3 pitchers?”

“I gave the third one to the guys, I didn't know you ladies already got one.” He started to help you. 

You grabbed the empty pitchers and started walking. He followed you with the empty glasses. You guys handed the bartender the dishes. “Thanks, guys, Last Call?” she said taking them. Jensen looked at you.

“Come on, One more.” You looked over to Mac and Zoey who had made their way back to the pool room. Zoey was introducing the other bandmates to Mac. 

You sat on the stool in front of you. “ Ok Ackles, one more.” He nodded at the bartender and she got out 2 Bud Light bottles opened them and sat them in front of him. He handed you one and raised his for a cheers. You clinked the bottles and you both took a drink.

He sat down next to you and swirled in the chair to face you. 

“So This doctor story. Too long to share over a beer?”

“ Kind of “ Tonight was so fun, you didn't want to talk about all the depressing stuff. And that story was full of it. He nodded  “So Tell me about it over lunch tomorrow?”

Your cheeks got warm again. Just then Mac And Zoey Approached you guys. “Hey babes, we are gonna get one more with the band, k?” 

“Actually this groupie here is taking me on a tour of Austin tomorrow,” you said. 

“Oh did I not tell you? I can’t make it tomorrow. I’m sorry.” she winked at you and walked away. 

“Well apparently I’m free tomorrow,” you said raising your eyebrows and taking a drink. 

“Not anymore. Lunch? I can show you around after if you want.” 

“Eh, I guess.” you smiled. “I got nothing better do to.”

He laughed. “Do you always talk this much shit?” 

“Yep.” He chuckled again and took a drink. “So tell me about this Supernatural. Is it really worth all the hype?”

He smiled. “Why yes, yes it is. It’s about these two brothers.” He talked in a movie phone voice. 

You put your hand on his arm and laughed. “Trust me I’ve got the back of the DVD box description and more numerous times.” He laughed. 

“I don’t know how to answer that. Of course, I’m going to say it’s a great show, but I played Dean for 15 years. I have a love for his story that words can’t explain. He is part of me. I think you should at least give it a shot. It would definitely make Mac and Zoey super happy.”

You realized your hand was still on his arm and your cheeks turned pink as you drew it away leaning back. He must have noticed because he smirked and finished his beer. “ I might.”  you swished your beer only a drink or two left. 

The bartender came over the p.a. System announcing they were closing up in 5 minutes. You turned back to check on the girls. Everyone was getting up some more graceful than others. “Hey, I almost forgot. We made a bet.” He said as he stood up and slid his phone out of his pocket. He got it to the add new contact screen and handed it to you. You stood up and took it. 

“A bet is a bet,”  you said as you put your info in. 

Mac and Zoey passed you. “Uber’s outside (y/n) unless…”

You gave her a hard look. “I’m comin’”

“I’ll walk out with you.”

You guys made it outside and found your Uber. You pointed. He walked beside you so close your hands touched a couple times. You stopped when you got to the car and turned to him. He put his hand out “It was nice meeting you (y/n)”

“You too Jensen.” you took his hand. Stepping on your tip toes you leaned and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled the biggest smile of the night. You got in the car. He walked over and put his hand on the door. 

“Good night Mr Ackles. “ you said as you winked at him.

He shook his head and still smiling. “Good night Darlin.” He closed the door. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Part 2

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[deansbeer]

𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐒 SKIES & 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 TIES

000. PROLOGUE ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ִ ݁ ♡ .

✸ 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓; the first time you and jensen met.

PAIRING. cowboy!jensen x female reader ꒱

SYNOPSIS. in a stormy december of '95, your world shifts when jensen arrives at your family's ranch. what starts with an awkward meeting becomes something unexpectedly sweet.

WARNING(S). awkward first meeting | subtle flirting | hand-holding | jealousy | mentions of small town gossip | unrequited feelings | peer pressuring parents (?) | ranch work | storm preparation | self-consciousness | social anxiety.

kari yaps. hiii there, i feel SO soso happy n giddy inside, seeing all of u as excited as i am for this new series !!!! i'll try my best to keep up w it, esp this upcoming week for xmas <3 & if it isnt finished by then, hopefully by new years it is. HOWEVER, if it isnt done once the new year rolls in, someone yell @ me, i give u full permission !!!!! im crossing my fingers, though. n e ways :) love yall smmm <3

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ୨ৎ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘.

DECEMBER brought the kind of cold that made texas feel foreign. you weren't expecting company that morning, which explained your current state: sleep shorts, an old long sleeve baby tee that had seen better days, and crew socks that reached above your ankles. your hair was a mess, tangled from sleep, but you didn't care—until your dad's voice boomed through the house.

"honey, alan's boy is here to help with the storm prep!"

you froze, halfway through pouring your coffee. through the kitchen window, you caught sight of a red chevy pickup truck pulling up, and your stomach dropped. everyone knew alan ackles' son—jensen was practically dallas royalty when it came to ranch families.

"coming!" you called back, but it was too late. the screen door creaked open, and there he stood: tall, broad-shouldered, in worn jeans and boots, his green eyes catching yours immediately.

"jensen, this is my daughter," your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder. "sweetheart, this is jensen."

you wanted to die right there, especially when his lips curved into a slight smirk. "nice to meet you," he drawled, his voice deep and warm. "nice pajamas."

your face heats up in embarrassment. "i wasn't exactly expecting visitors at seven in the morning."

"storm's not gonna wait for proper attire, darlin'," your dad chuckled. "why don't you go get dressed? you're helping us today."

"what? dad, no—"

"actually," your mom chirped, appearing from nowhere like she always did when there was potential for embarrassment, "if you help today, we can hit the mall this afternoon."

you narrowed your eyes. "promise?"

"cross my heart."

yeah, you're never going to the mall.

twenty minutes later, properly dressed in jeans and boots, you found yourself trailing behind jensen and your dad toward the stables. the horses needed tending first—they were always priority during storms.

"beauty's been real fussy lately," your dad was saying. "might need extra attention."

"i can handle the horses," you offered quickly. anything to avoid more awkward interaction with jensen.

your dad nodded. "good idea. jensen and i'll check the fencing. don't forget to clean their areas too."

you watched them head off, relief flooding through you until beauty, your black mare, nudged your shoulder. "i know, girl," you muttered. "i'm a mess."

the next hour passed peacefully enough. most of the horses were being difficult—storm weather always made them antsy—but beauty kept them in line with warning neighs whenever they got too rowdy. you were halfway through brushing down the last horse when boots scuffed against the stable floor behind you.

"need any help?"

you jumped, spinning around to find jensen leaning against one of the stalls. "jesus, wear a bell or something."

he laughed, pushing off the frame and walking over. "your dad said to come check on you. more workers showed up to help with the heavy lifting."

"'m fine," you said quickly, turning back to the horse. "almost done."

"you sure? because that one looks about ready to bite."

as if on cue, the horse snapped its teeth, and you jerked back. jensen stepped forward, his chest brushing your back as he reached for the brush. "here," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "let me."

you stepped aside, watching as he effortlessly calmed the horse with a few gentle strokes. "show off."

"nah," he grinned. "just been doing this since i could walk. your ranch is different though. bigger than ours."

"yeah?" you leaned against the stable wall. "how so?"

and just like that, the awkwardness melted away. jensen told you about his family's ranch, about learning to ride before he could properly run, about the differences in how each ranch operated. by the time your dad called everyone in for dinner, you'd almost forgotten about your embarrassing first meeting.

your mom, ever the hostess, had prepared enough food to feed an army. neighbors started arriving, filling your house with chatter and laughter. you showered and changed, choosing a soft sweater and clean jeans, your hair finally tamed.

"movie time!" someone called after dinner, and suddenly the living room was full of kids your age, all piling onto couches to watch christmas reruns.

you tucked yourself into the corner of the couch, trying to take up as little space as possible. but then jensen sat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours despite the space on his other side. you tried to scoot away, give him room, but he just moved closer.

"cold?" he whispered, and before you could answer, his hand found yours.

your palm went instantly clammy. across the room, you caught daisy oliver's glare—everyone knew she had a thing for jensen, had been trying to catch his eye for months. you tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened.

"relax," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "this okay?"

you nodded, unable to form words, and spent the rest of the night hyper-aware of every small movement of his hand against yours.

the next morning, you hid in your room, avoiding the inevitable goodbye when his dad came to pick him up. you'd heard the rumors about him and daisy so holding his hand felt like crossing a line you hadn't meant to cross.

you didn't know then that jensen had never looked twice at her. didn't know that he had spend the whole ride home telling his dad about the girl in pajamas who'd caught his eye. didn't know that this was just the beginning.

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 taglist. @deanswidow @a1ecmcdowell @beausling @titsout4jackles @frosttbitessam @aileenunfiltered @deansbite @jasvtsc @fallbhind @ostaramoon @lacydollette @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs ◟ ☆ ݁ ⋆ 🏇 ˚⊹ ˖ ﾟ✶ ݁. comment OR send an ask to be added / removed !!!!!

𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 © 2024. ✶ please DO NOT copy or plagiarize my works.

[ronearoundblindly]

omg not me freaking out that i am part of the group that gets bait gifs! FRIENDS!!!!!!! i'm fine. i'm chill. don't leave me!

This took me a minute to figure out what I wanted Sir Dorksalot to have done that was sketchy enough to have him make this face...

Watch The Fish, Jake Jensen x reader headcanon wholeass fic in bullet format because my god this got long

Warnings for mentions of masturbation and porn, accidental then totally intentional voyeurism, awkward and oblivious!Jake--so just Jake, yeah?--and smutty implications...

🥹 roommates to lovers 😊

you rent a pretty large house maybe even with one or two others at first, but they move out

jake has to use it as a crashpad sometimes because he'll be away for so long at a time, but he pays rent and the entire electrical & internet bill no matter what

you keep a fish tank in the living room

after jake comes back from months in hiding abroad away, he gets so excited to be home and spend time with his niece that he hosts an after-game pizza party for her soccer team

someone practices headbutting the ball inside and nearly topples the tank

jake catches the whole thing with his broad arm-span and a decent amount of strength just in time when it wobbles the whole table beneath it. his heart nearly stopped, and he's so grateful the glass didn't break. thank god you weren't home.

however, you insist on moving the fish to your room instead once he tells you.

jake's a little sad to see them go. he pouts so much you decide to take pity on him, buying a web cam to mount beside the tank so jake can watch them whenever he wants. he loves to do voices for each one, personalities, soap-opera-like dramatic storylines, the works

as an aside you ask him if the sound can be turned off on the camera. jake says yeah but he mostly means he can turn it to mute on his computer.

which he does, for the record, but he has to remember to do it each time he pulls up the feed of da fishies. honestly, half the time he's wearing headphones and the other half you aren't home while he puts the Marauders (because there's just one fat one) onto his third monitor for background.

so he forgets that the sound is on and a thing he might need to avoid

weeks later, maybe months, jake finally removes his headphones after a very long stint of coding, completely unaware of what time it is and that you are home in your room

at first, jake is dead convinced that some porn ad has popped up in a window behind his work, something he would go apeshit about and ransomware bomb the shit out of whoever wrote such slippery spam

the fish are peaceful as ever, blooping away whilst jake frantically closes program after program trying to find the hot chick moaning on his desktop...until it's all closed and the buzzing remains though his tower's fan stopped...then the squelching noise starts

jake is frozen in place, looking away from the fish like they're the damn problem, but he doesn't cut the feed

he...he shouldn't

he should turn it off or just mute it like he promised

and he tries

he tries really hard, gang

it's the cursor's fault that it hits the command to send the audio to his bluetooth headphones instead of mute

and he sets the headphones down on the keyboard, gnawing on his bottom lip and watching his closed bedroom door in anticipation of...getting caught, maybe? he's not sure

he watches the fish putter around like it's no big deal

which it isn't, right?

you're human. he's human. humans have urges. they touch themselves--they touch each other, too--and there's no harm in that. if anything...jake encourages it, or he would...if you knew that he knew about this

the noises are so faint from the itty bitty speakers two feet from his face, but he doesn't pick them up, still debating what to do

because there's a big difference between what jake should do in this situation and what he wants to do

he mutes audio and then cuts off the livestream

at least, that's what he did the first time it happened

he knows he's a perv. jake can't help it.

it becomes a game of sorts. it's like practice recon for learning a target's routine. not that jake needs practice at the job he already fucking has but that's how his brain justifies laying on his own bed in the glow of the fish tank feed with his headphones turned way up

he knows your bed is on the other side of your room from when he moved the fish tank in

he knows what your underwear look like from the laundry room downstairs

he knows what you smell like from the shared bathroom and the products lining your shelf

he now knows there's a bottle of toy cleaner in one of your sink drawers

and he shouldn't but he absolutely touches himself listening to you, fists himself when you're fucking a toy he imagines six-shapes-to-Sunday, teases himself when all you're doing is breathing softly from across the whole house and he's cold and covered in cum by the end

to be fair, jake hates himself because of all this, but he is now mildly addicted

he doesn't even exit out of the livestream anymore. it just stays up on his monitor like a screensaver, but he doesn't realize that once he takes his headphones out of range, the audio transfers to his speakers again

so jake goes on a mission for a few days, and at some point while you are cleaning up your room, playing music, you find two pairs of jake's socks in your load of clean laundry and go to toss them in his room...where the same music you're listening to way down the hall is playing...in sync...

you're horrified and then embarrassed and then quickly realized it might mean nothing

you have to test if it means something

jake returns from his mission on complete autopilot

just so damn tired

throws down his duffle on top of some socks he doesn't remember leaving out and just hits the shower for a long, long time

he hasn't talked to you yet

he hasn't even seen you except your car is home and your door is shut

he goes about his business

the volume on his speakers isn't high but he hears you speaking and assumes you're on the phone

he pays it no mind. he is glad to be home, glad you're fine since he's just been in a part of the world where most people are not safe.

in a weird sort of way, he feels he's earned the mundane sort of comfort that comes from "the same ol'" of this house

he's wiped out, so he crawls into bed with his headphones immediately, hair barely toweled dry, not bothering with boxers because...why make more laundry?

and then the worst thing happens

there's a man's voice coming through his headphones, and jake scowls in frustration and rage

did you go and get a fucking boyfriend? in a couple of days? or goddamnit is this some tinder shit in his home right now?

but it only gets worse

he can hardly contain himself, what with the gagging sounds and this dude telling you to take it like the whore you are, and JAKE WILL LITERALLY BURN THIS PLACE DOWN

now his ass is putting on clothes

now his ass is ready to riot

the sex gets more and more degrading; spanking noises and even choking, but not in a seemingly consensual way, which is when jake rips his headphones off, storms down the hall and barrels straight through your bedroom door

where...you...aren't

no one is. no you. no man.

just your laptop sitting on your desk near the fish tank, playing the money shot of a porn video he was just listening to

get the fuck out. get out. get out. his brain screams, and he bolts

he makes it three feet before stopping short

you're standing at the top of the stairs, a bowl of ice cream in hand, licking the spoon unbelievably slowly with your whole tongue

you're fucked. you're fucked. you're fucked. his brain adds helpfully.

"hey, jakey," you say with a smile. "whatcha doing?"

A/N: this cat is officially my reaction to pretty much everything because...well...it's very accurate.

[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

THERE'S A SEQUEL!

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 16/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, teasing, Language, age gap

Word Count: 8349

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

You shrugged gently, your fingers continuing their lazy exploration. “Just how happy I am”, you replied honestly.

Jensen sighed contentedly, a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, for all your teasing and sarcasm, you actually have some disgustingly sweet moments too”, he teased, his voice warm with affection.

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing a particularly prominent freckle. “Well, don’t get used to it. I have a reputation to uphold”, you replied with a mock serious tone, though your eyes twinkled with amusement.

Jensen chuckled, pulling you closer. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our little secret”, he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for him. “Good. I’d hate for everyone to know I have a soft side”.

Jensen’s hand moved to your chin, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with warmth and affection as he leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your lips. The touch of his lips sent a thrill through you, your heart racing at the intimacy of the moment.

When he pulled back, he looked deeply into your eyes and mumbled softly, “Good night, sweetheart”.

The nickname made your heart skip a beat, a warmth spreading through your chest. No one had ever called you that before, and hearing it from Jensen made it feel all the more special. “Good night”, you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.

You settled back into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek. The room was quiet, the only sounds being your combined breaths and the gentle rustle of the sheets. Jensen’s arms tightened around you.

The last thing you felt before sleep took over was Jensen’s soft kiss on the top of your head.

The next morning, you woke up before Jensen, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains casting a gentle glow in the room. You were still nestled against him, his arms wrapped around you protectively, the warmth of his body comforting against the morning chill.

Gazing up at his peaceful face, you couldn't help but smile. Jensen looked serene in sleep, his features relaxed, his lips curved in a slight smile that hinted at the contentment he felt. His tousled hair and the stubble on his jawline added to his rugged charm, and you felt a surge of affection for him.

Running your fingers lightly over his chest, you traced the familiar contours of his muscles, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath your touch. Each movement was slow and deliberate, not wanting to disturb his sleep but wanting to savor this intimate moment between you.

As you watched him, memories of the previous night flooded your mind—the passion, the tenderness, and the deep connection you had shared. It felt surreal to wake up beside him like this, to see him in such a vulnerable and peaceful state.

As you traced gentle patterns on his chest, Jensen stirred slightly. Without opening his eyes, he spoke in a tired, rough voice, teasing you with a hint of a smile. “You know, staring at someone while they sleep is kinda creepy”.

You chuckled softly, not stopping your light caresses. “Good morning to you too”, you replied, a playful glint in your eyes.

Jensen finally opened his eyes, their green depths still heavy with sleep but twinkling with amusement. “Morning”, he murmured, pulling you closer to him. “Did you sleep well?”.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “Better than I have in a long time”, you admitted softly.

Jensen’s hand moved to gently stroke your hair. “Glad to hear it”, he said, his voice warm and affectionate. “I’m pretty sure last night had something to do with that”.

You laughed lightly, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Maybe a little”.

He tilted your chin up with his fingers, his gaze locking onto yours. “And this morning?”, he asked, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “How are you feeling now?”.

You stretched, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep, but instantly regretted it. Every little muscle hurt, and you were sore in places you didn’t even know could be sore. Your pussy ached, and even your belly felt tender.

A soft groan escaped your lips, and Jensen’s eyes filled with concern. “ You okay?” he asked.

You gave him a weak smile, wincing slightly. “I’m just really sore”, you admitted. “Everywhere”.

Jensen’s expression softened with a mix of guilt and amusement. “I might have gone a bit overboard last night”, he murmured.

Jensen slowly got up from the bed, his own muscles clearly aching as he groaned deeply. "Fuck", he muttered, stretching as he made his way towards the bathroom.

You couldn't help but watch him, admiring the way his back muscles flexed with each movement. Your gaze wandered down to his perfectly sculpted ass, and you bit your lip, appreciating just how much of a picture-perfect man he was.

He glanced back at you, catching the look in your eyes and smirking slightly. "Enjoying the view?", he teased, his voice still rough with sleep.

You blushed but didn’t look away. "Maybe", you replied playfully. "You certainly give me a lot to admire".

Jensen chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom. You heard the sound of the shower turning on, and a few moments later, he called out, "You coming or what?".

Despite your exhaustion, the idea of a warm shower with Jensen was too tempting to pass up. You slowly got out of bed, wincing at the ache in your muscles, and made your way to the bathroom.

Jensen was already under the spray, his body glistening with water. He looked up as you entered, extending a hand to help you in.

You stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over your sore muscles, instantly soothing some of the discomfort. Jensen's hands were gentle as he massaged your shoulders and back, his touch careful and tender.

"Better?", he asked, his lips brushing against your temple.

You nodded, relaxing into his touch. "Much better", you replied, your voice soft and content.

Jensen's hands continued their gentle ministrations, massaging the tension out of your shoulders and back. The warmth of the shower and the tenderness of his touch made you feel deeply cared for. You leaned into him, savoring the moment.

Jensen murmured softly, “How about we start today easy? My appointment at the barber shop isn’t until the afternoon, so there’s no rush”.

You nodded softly, appreciating the gentle pace Jensen was suggesting. Together, you both stepped out of the shower, drying off and getting dressed in comfortable clothes. Jensen followed you into the kitchen, where you started to prepare some coffee.

As you looked through the cabinets, you felt a twinge of soreness reminding you of the previous night’s intensity. “You’re down for some cereal?”, you asked, glancing over at Jensen with a sheepish smile. “I’m a bit too sore to make a decent breakfast”.

Jensen chuckled, leaning against the counter as he watched you. “Cereal sounds perfect”, he said, his eyes twinkling with affection.

You reached for the cereal boxes and poured two bowls, adding milk and setting them on the table. Jensen took a seat across from you, his eyes never leaving your face as he took a bite.

You looked up and caught his intense gaze, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What?”, you mumbled with a mouthful of cereal, instantly blushing.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing”, he mumbled, still smiling as he watched you. “I just like looking at you”.

Your blush deepened, and you found yourself smiling despite your embarrassment. “You’re impossible”, you said, trying to hide your bashfulness by taking another bite.

Jensen’s smile widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And you’re adorable”, he replied, taking another bite of his cereal.

The two of you continued eating in comfortable silence, the morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the room. It was a simple, perfect moment, one that you both cherished.

After finishing breakfast, you cleared the table together, Jensen’s hand brushing against yours occasionally, sending little sparks of joy through you. Once the kitchen was tidied up, Jensen leaned against the counter, his expression thoughtful, as if contemplating what to do next. You couldn't help but notice the slight furrow of his brow, a sign that he might be lost in thought.

You placed the last spoon away, catching Jensen’s thoughtful glance. “What is it?”, you asked softly, sensing there was something on his mind.

Jensen sighed slightly, meeting your gaze with a mix of seriousness and tenderness. “After the convention, I have to head back to the set for four more weeks”, he said gently. “After that, I’m free for a while, with just a few conventions in between”.

You nodded, understanding the demands of his schedule but feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of him being away again so soon. “I see”, you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “Well, I guess we’ll have to make the most of the time we have”.

Jensen hesitated, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know”, he began slowly, “after filming is done, I was thinking… maybe you could come with me to some of the conventions. Spend some time in different cities together”.

Your eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “Really? You’d want that?”.

Jensen chuckled, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “What kind of question is that?”, he teased, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Of course, I want that. I want to spend as much time with you as I can”.

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, your heart swelling with affection. “Well, in that case, I’d love to join you”, you replied, your smile matching his.

Jensen pulled out his phone and stepped behind you, his breath hot against your neck. He wrapped one arm around your waist while holding his phone in front of you with the other hand, showing you his calendar. “Look”, he murmured softly in your ear, “there are six conventions over November and the beginning of December. All in different cities”.

You scanned the calendar, seeing the dates marked out. Jensen’s arm tightened slightly around your waist as he continued, his lips brushing against your ear. “We can spend the whole weeks between the conventions together. Just you and me”.

Your heart swelled with affection and anticipation. “That sounds amazing, Jensen”, you whispered, leaning back into his embrace.

Jensen’s grip on your waist tightened, his kisses growing more insistent on your neck. “We just have to be a little careful”, he whispered against your skin.

You shivered slightly at the sensation, your body reacting to his closeness. “Careful?” you murmured, tilting your head to give him better access.

Jensen’s lips moved to your earlobe, nibbling gently before he spoke. “Just with being seen together. The fans, the media—they can be relentless. We need to keep things low-key”.

You nodded, understanding the need for discretion. “Get it”, you replied softly. “We’ll be careful”.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of seriousness and affection. “I don’t want anything to ruin what we have”, he said, his voice sincere. With that, he pulled you close.

While the two of you were kissing, Jensen’s phone rang, the sound breaking the tender moment. He glanced at the screen and saw Danneel’s name popping up. A look of annoyance crossed his face as he sighed and pulled away slightly.

“Hold on, I need to take this”, he muttered, picking up the call.

You stepped back, giving him some space as he answered the phone. “Hey, Danneel”, he said, his voice tight with frustration.

You could hear Danneel’s voice on the other end, sharp and filled with irritation. “JJ got into a fight at school”, she snapped. “And she refuses to talk to me about it. She only wants to talk to her daddy”.

Jensen rubbed his temple, clearly stressed. “I’m in Austin for a few more days, Danneel”.

“I know that”, Danneel shot back. “But she won’t calm down. You need to talk to her, even if it’s just over the phone”.

Jensen glanced at you apologetically. “Alright, put her on”, he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Danneel huffed before handing the phone to JJ. A moment later, Jensen’s face softened as he spoke to his daughter. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s going on?”.

You watched as Jensen listened intently, his expression shifting from concern to tenderness as JJ explained the situation.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at how Jensen talked to his daughter. Despite his initial frustration and the interruption, his voice softened and filled with tenderness as he spoke to JJ. It was evident how much he cared for her and wanted to comfort her, even from a distance.

As you watched Jensen listen intently to JJ’s explanation, you realized how easily you could forget about his life outside of your time together. Over the last weeks, whenever the two of you talked on the phone or spent time together, it was just about you and him, wrapped up in your own world. You hadn’t often thought about the responsibilities and challenges he faced as a husband and a father.

Seeing him now, handling a parenting issue, brought a new perspective.

After a few minutes, Jensen managed to calm JJ down and assured her everything would be okay. He promised to talk more later and ended the call with a gentle, “I love you, JJ”.

He turned back to you, his expression a mix of weariness and gratitude. “Sorry about that”, he said, running a hand through his hair. “Parenting, huh?”.

You couldn’t help but respond with a bit of sarcasm, your eyes twinkling with humor. “Yeah, tell me about it”, you said, the obvious implication that you didn’t have kids making Jensen chuckle.

“Smartass”, he teased, his mood lightening as he relaxed into the moment.

You smiled warmly, feeling a genuine curiosity about his family. “Do you have photos of them?”, you asked, realizing that despite your growing closeness, you had never seen pictures of his kids.

Jensen’s eyes softened, and he pulled out his phone again. “Yeah, of course”, he said, swiping through his gallery before handing the phone to you.

You took the phone and looked at the screen, seeing a photo of Jensen with his kids. JJ was beaming up at him with a wide smile, her eyes sparkling with the same mischief you saw in Jensen’s. The twins were adorable, their innocent faces full of curiosity and joy.

You swiped through the pictures of his kids, smiling at their bright, happy faces. Each photo seemed to capture a moment of pure joy and love. As you continued scrolling, a picture of Jensen and a red-haired woman appeared on the screen, showing them standing in front of a harbor. You paused, your finger hovering over the image. Jensen sensed your hesitation and looked at the picture.

“That’s Danneel?”, you asked quietly, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of uncertainty.

Jensen nodded. “Yeah, that’s her”, he said. “This was taken on summer last year”.

You noticed a subtle tension in his posture as he looked at the picture. It wasn’t hard to see the strain in his eyes, even in a photograph. Carefully, you chose your words, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “You look pretty… strained”, you said softly, your voice filled with empathy.

Jensen let out a sigh, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. “Yeah, it wasn’t a good day”, he admitted. “Danneel was constantly on edge. It was one of those times when everything just felt heavy”.

You nodded understandingly and handed Jensen back his phone, taking a moment to look at him. It struck you how different he appeared now compared to the person in that strained photograph. His demeanor was more relaxed, his smile genuine, and the tension seemed to have melted away.

As you observed him, Jensen chuckled softly. “You never googled me or checked on Instagram?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You chuckled nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed. “No, actually, I haven’t”, you admitted honestly. “Maybe I should?”.

Jensen shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Sure”, he said, his tone light. “Just don’t get too deep into the stuff that involves Danneel. Remember that most of it is just for publicity”.

You nodded, appreciating the heads-up. “Got it. I’ll take everything with a grain of salt”.

Jensen’s smile softened. “Good. There’s a lot of stuff out there, but just know that the real story is what we have here”, he said, gesturing between the two of you.

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. “I trust you”, you replied sincerely.

Jensen gently pulled you by the waist against him, looking down at you with a soft, affectionate gaze. He leaned in and kissed you softly, his lips tender and warm against yours. When he finally pulled away, he looked at you with a questioning gaze, sensing there was something on your mind.

You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts before speaking. “You mentioned that you and Danneel had been having affairs over the years”, you began carefully, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you still have any… ongoing ones?”.

Your heart raced as you asked the question, unsure of how he would react. You wanted to know if he saw other girls besides you and his wife, but you didn’t want to voice it outright, feeling you had no right to expect anything exclusive. After all, you weren’t officially together.

Jensen’s eyes softened with understanding, and a small, cocky smile played on his lips. “Why would I need anyone else when I have you?”, he replied, his tone both sincere and teasing.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mixture of relief and warmth flooding through you. “Really?”, you asked, still needing a bit of reassurance.

Jensen nodded, his expression serious now. “Really. You’re all I need”, he said softly, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “I’m not interested in anyone else”.

You bit your lip, looking up at him with those big eyes that always made him weak. “And what about Danneel? You’re still…?”.

Jensen understood what you were asking. He sighed softly. “I haven’t slept with her in months”, he said, his voice firm and honest. “And I don’t intend to start again now. Sure, I need to kiss her at events and for photos, but that’s it”.

The thought of him kissing someone else made your stomach churn, but you pushed it aside, knowing you had no right to make any demands.

You hesitated again, gathering your courage before voicing another question that had been nagging at you. “Do you ever think you might catch feelings for her again?”, you asked softly. “I mean, you have kids and a past together and all of that…”.

Jensen pulled you closer, his arms wrapping securely around you. “I get why you’re asking”, he said gently. “But no, I don’t think that will happen. Our relationship has changed a lot over the years. We’ve both moved on in many ways”.

He paused, his eyes searching yours for a moment. “The connection we had is more about the kids and the history we share. It’s not about romantic feelings anymore. I care about her as the mother of my children, but that’s it”.

You nodded, feeling slightly more reassured but still needing to express your thoughts. “I just worry, you know? You have this whole life with her, and I don’t want to get in the way of that or cause any more complications”.

Jensen shook his head, his gaze steady and sincere. “You’re not in the way, and you’re not causing complications. If anything, you’ve been a source of clarity for me. You’ve made me realize what I want and what I don’t want in my life”.

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “I want to be with you”, he said firmly. “And I want to figure out how we can make this work”.

“I want that too”, you whispered.

Jensen smiled, his eyes filled with warmth and determination. “Good”, he said softly. “Because I’m not letting go of this. Not now, not ever”.

Even if you still didn’t label whatever you two had, it was clear that both of you wanted to make this work, in whatever way possible. You melted against Jensen, his big palms nearly covering your whole back as he pressed you against himself. With every touch, the feeling of you being made just for him grew stronger.

Jensen’s embrace was warm and secure, his presence a comforting anchor. His lips found yours again, the kiss deepening with an unspoken promise of commitment and affection. You felt a sense of belonging that was both new and exhilarating, as if you had finally found the missing piece of your life.

Breaking the kiss, Jensen rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “We’ll figure this out”, he murmured, his voice a soft reassurance. “No matter what, we’ll find a way”.

You nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions.

The rest of the morning was spent in a comfortable closeness, the conversation flowing easily between lighthearted topics and deeper discussions about your future. As the hours passed, the bond between you grew stronger, solidifying the unspoken understanding that whatever this was, it was worth fighting for.

When it was time for Jensen to head to his barber appointment, you walked him to the door, your fingers intertwined with his. “I’ll see you later?”.

Jensen smiled, squeezing your hand gently. “Definitely”, he replied, leaning down to give you a lingering kiss. “I’ll call you when I’m done”.

You watched him leave, feeling a sense of contentment and anticipation. Even without labels, the connection you shared felt undeniable and powerful, and you were ready to embrace whatever the future held.

After Jensen left, you decided to use the time to check his Instagram. As you scrolled through the posts, you couldn’t help but admire him further. Although he wasn’t extremely active on social media, he had a significant following and his fans adored him. Each post seemed to capture a different facet of his life, whether it was a behind-the-scenes look at his work, candid moments with friends, or snippets of his hobbies.

You tried to ignore the posts that included Danneel, but your curiosity got the better of you. You switched to her profile, wanting to understand more about her. As you browsed through her posts, it became clear that her primary focus was her family. Nearly every post was dedicated to Jensen and their kids, showcasing family outings, celebrations, and moments of joy. It seemed her job was indeed being Jensen’s wife and the mother of his children.

You felt a mix of emotions as you continued to scroll. On one hand, it was clear that their family life was an important and cherished part of their existence. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of insecurity and curiosity about how things had changed between them.

One particular post caught your eye—a family portrait taken on Christmas. They all looked happy, but now that you knew more about their situation, you couldn’t help but wonder what was happening behind the smiles. You reminded yourself of Jensen's words about the publicity and how things weren’t as they seemed.

Sighing, you closed the app and set your phone aside. It was easy to get lost in the curated world of social media, but you knew that the reality was far more complex.

Your thoughts drifted to the future, and the complexities of Jensen's life became more evident. It was clear why Danneel didn’t want to divorce Jensen, even though their marriage had been strained for a long time. Without him, she would lose financial stability, social status, and the relevance that came with being his wife. She hadn’t acted in movies or TV shows in years, and a divorce would likely render her life drastically different.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the situation. Why couldn’t things be simpler? Why wasn’t he already divorced or never married in the first place? This was one of the reasons you had always been wary of dating older men—they often came with a lot of baggage.

But then you thought about how Jensen looked at you, how he touched and held you, and how he kissed you. Your heart clenched with the realization of how deeply you had fallen for him. Despite all the complications and challenges, your feelings for him were undeniable and intense.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. Love wasn’t supposed to be easy, you reminded yourself. It was supposed to be worth fighting for. And Jensen was worth it. The way he made you feel, the connection you shared—it was all worth the struggle.

You started tackling some chores around the apartment, beginning with the laundry. You sorted, folded, and put away clothes, your mind occasionally drifting to thoughts of Jensen and the time you would spend together later.

Next, you turned your attention to choosing outfits for the upcoming convention. You pulled out several options, laying them on the bed and considering how each one would look.

With the chores mostly done, you decided that Jensen could use a proper, delicious meal after the college-kid breakfast of cereal. You headed to the kitchen, feeling inspired to cook something special. You decided on a fresh risotto, a recipe you had learned during your teenage years in Italy. It was a dish you knew well and could make with confidence.

You gathered all the ingredients: Arborio rice, fresh vegetables, Parmesan cheese, white wine, and a rich broth. As you started cooking, the familiar scents of garlic and onions sautéing in olive oil filled the kitchen, bringing back fond memories of your time in Italy.

You poured the white wine into the pan, letting it sizzle and reduce before adding the rice. Slowly, you ladled in the broth, stirring patiently as the risotto began to take shape. The process was therapeutic, and you found yourself relaxing into the rhythm of cooking.

As the risotto neared completion, you added the final touches: freshly grated Parmesan, a pat of butter for extra creaminess, and a sprinkle of fresh herbs. You tasted a spoonful, satisfied with the rich, creamy texture and the perfect balance of flavors.

You set the table, plating the risotto. The kitchen looked cozy and inviting, the aroma of the freshly cooked meal filling the air.

Just as you were putting the finishing touches on the table, you heard the front door open and Jensen’s voice calling out. “Hey, I’m back!”.

You walked over to greet him, a smile spreading across your face. “Perfect timing. I made us a special dinn- fuck, you look hot”.

Your hands instantly caressed his freshly trimmed sides, feeling the soft, short hair beneath your fingertips. You marveled at how his new haircut made him look even more handsome, which you hadn’t thought was possible. The longer, neatly styled hair on top added a touch of sophistication and charm.

Jensen grinned, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You like it?”, he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I love it”, you replied, your voice filled with genuine admiration. “You look incredible”.

He leaned down to kiss you softly, his lips warm and inviting. “I think I like this kind of greeting”, he murmured against your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “And you made us a special dinner?”.

You smiled, taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. “I hope you’re hungry”, you said.

Jensen’s eyes widened in appreciation as he took in the scene. “This looks amazing”, he said, "You really went all out”.

You grinned at Jensen’s compliment, feeling a rush of happiness at his appreciation. “It’s a recipe I learned during my time in Italy”, you explained proudly as you took your seat across from him. “I hope you like it”.

“Well, if it tastes half as good as it smells, then I’m in for a treat”, he said with a smile.

Deep down, you had cooked this meal for him because you felt a need to measure up to his wife. Though you tried to push those thoughts aside, they lingered at the back of your mind, nagging you with doubts. Unknown to you, Danneel rarely cooked and wasn’t particularly skilled at it either.

“This is incredible”, he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

“I’m glad you like it”, you replied, feeling a bit more confident.

Jensen’s eyes twinkled as he looked at you. “If you keep cooking like this, I might just get spoiled”, he teased.

You mumbled softly, trying to keep your tone light, “I guess I have to make up for being that bad on top”. You referred to the previous night, where Jensen had to guide you on how to ride him properly. You tried to make it sound like a joke, but deep down, it was nagging at your confidence.

Jensen’s expression softened immediately, sensing the insecurity in your voice. He set his fork dow. “Hey”, he said gently. “You were amazing. You have nothing to worry about”.

You put on a smile, not wanting to annoy him with any drama, and kept eating your risotto without saying anything in return. Despite his reassuring words, a small part of you still felt uncertain. The meal was delicious, and you tried to focus on enjoying it, but your thoughts kept drifting back to your insecurities.

Jensen watched you carefully, his eyes filled with concern. He could sense that you were still bothered, even though you were trying to hide it. He decided to give you a bit of space, allowing you to process your feelings without pushing too hard.

The two of you continued eating in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Jensen broke the silence with a soft, gentle tone. “You know, I thought it was actually pretty hot”, he said. “Being the first guy to have you on top? That’s pretty special. Plus, it shows that you haven’t spent your early twenties getting railed by half the city”.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, despite your lingering insecurities. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to feel bad”, you mumbled.

Jensen stood up, his chair scraping softly against the floor as he moved. You watched him curiously as he walked around the table and stopped behind you. Leaning down, his breath warm against your ear, he whispered, “I fucking mean it. And if you want to keep practicing, I’m more than up for it”.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of reassurance and desire. Before you could respond, Jensen straightened up and gently took both of your plates. He walked over to the dishwasher and placed them inside, moving with an easy confidence that made your heart swell.

You turned in your chair to face him, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re really something, you know that?”, you said softly, feeling a warmth spread through you.

Jensen looked back at you, his expression tender. “I try”, he replied with a wink, then closed the dishwasher and walked back over to you.

He pulled you gently up from the chair, his hands grabbing your hips with a firm but tender grip. You could feel the warmth of his palms through your clothes, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Jensen’s eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

He leaned in, kissing your lips softly at first, then deepening the kiss as he pulled you closer. The world seemed to blur around you, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on yours. Slowly, his lips trailed down to your jaw, each kiss sending sparks of desire through you.

As he reached your ear, Jensen whispered, “Besides that, you have the best pussy I’ve ever fucked”. His voice was low and husky, each word carefully measured to elicit the maximum effect. He knew exactly how much it turned you on when he talked like that, and he was using it to full advantage.

Your breath hitched at his words, your body reacting instantly to the seductive timbre of his voice. You felt a rush of warmth pooling in your core, a testament to the effect he had on you. Jensen’s hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

He moved his hands from your hips to your back, sliding them up to gently massage your shoulders. The sensation was both soothing and arousing, a combination that left you craving more. Jensen’s lips continued their exploration, moving from your ear down to your neck, where he nibbled and kissed with deliberate tenderness.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access as a soft moan escaped your lips. The heat between you was palpable, every touch and kiss heightening the desire that simmered just below the surface.

Jensen groaned against your neck, his voice thick with arousal. “Those are some dangerous sounds, baby”, he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His words sent another shiver of pleasure through you, making you press closer to him.

His hands roamed your back, finding their way under your shirt and pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. He tossed it aside, his eyes darkening as they took in the sight of you. “You’re so damn beautiful”, he said, his voice a low growl filled with desire.

Your hands moved to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and sliding it off his shoulders. The feel of his warm skin against yours was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but run your hands over the hard planes of his chest. Jensen’s muscles rippled under your touch, his body responding eagerly to your caresses.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. His hands moved to the clasp of your bra, deftly unhooking it and letting it fall away. Jensen’s lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone, his kisses sending sparks of pleasure through you.

You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his sensual assault. Jensen’s hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and making you gasp.

Jensen’s touch was electric, every caress sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His lips continued their journey down your collarbone, each kiss igniting a fire within you. His thumbs brushed over your nipples again, coaxing more soft moans from your lips.

He kissed lower, trailing his mouth down to your stomach, his hands sliding down to your hips. With a deliberate slowness, he unbuttoned your pants, his fingers teasingly brushing against your skin as he did so. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body aching for his touch.

Jensen slid your pants down your legs, leaving you in just your panties.

He was on his knees by now, his face right in front of the only thing left covering you—your panties. The intensity in his eyes made your pulse race. Your hands gripped the kitchen counter behind you to steady yourself as you looked down into his beautiful green eyes.

Jensen’s hands rested on your hips, his thumbs brushing gently against your skin, sending shivers through you. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just above the waistband of your panties, his breath warm against your skin.

You gasped softly, your body responding eagerly to his touch. He continued to place gentle kisses along the edge of your panties, each one heightening your anticipation. His fingers hooked into the waistband, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he began to pull them down.

As the fabric slid down your legs, Jensen’s eyes never left yours, the connection between you growing even stronger. You stepped out of your panties, now completely exposed to him. His gaze traveled over your body, filled with admiration and desire.

Jensen leaned in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, moving closer to your core. Your breath hitched in anticipation, your fingers gripping the counter tighter. He kissed his way up your thigh.

When his mouth finally reached your center, Jensen paused, his breath hot against your most sensitive skin. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster.

Jensen’s hands caressed your thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive. He placed a few more teasing kisses before his tongue flicked out to taste you. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft moan.

With a firm but gentle grip, Jensen lifted one of your thighs, hooking it over his shoulder. The movement pressed your pussy tighter against his face, allowing him even better access. The new angle intensified the sensation, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of you.

Your fingers dug into the counter behind you as Jensen’s tongue worked its magic, alternating between slow, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks. The pressure and rhythm he maintained were driving you wild, each touch sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

Jensen’s free hand moved to your other thigh, holding you steady as he continued his sensual assault. The combination of his mouth and hands had you on the brink, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

“Jensen”, you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close”.

Your hands tangled in his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, and in your heightened state, you pulled a little too hard. The tug made him groan against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

The sensation of his mouth and the feel of his groan against you were almost too much to bear. Your hips bucked involuntarily, pressing even closer to his mouth. Jensen responded with renewed intensity, his tongue moving faster and more insistently, driving you to the edge.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with the imminent release. The combination of his skilled tongue and the primal connection you felt with him brought you right to the brink.

With one final, expertly placed flick of his tongue, you shattered. Your orgasm crashed over you in powerful waves, your body convulsing with the intensity of your climax. You cried out his name, your voice filled with pure ecstasy.

Jensen held you steady, his mouth never leaving you as he continued to draw out every last bit of your pleasure. Your hands tightened in his hair, holding him close as the waves of your orgasm slowly began to subside.

When you finally began to come down from the high, you were left breathless and trembling. Jensen gently lowered your thigh, his hands moving to support you as he stood up, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness.

He kissed you deeply, his lips warm and soft against yours, sharing the taste of your desire. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you returned the kiss with equal fervor. The intensity of the moment was matched only by the depth of the connection you felt with him.

As you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jensen pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your lips. “Turn around”, he ordered softly, his voice a mixture of command and desire.

You felt a shiver of anticipation run through you at his words. Slowly, you turned around, your hands finding the edge of the kitchen counter for support. Jensen’s hands traced down your sides, his touch gentle but firm as he positioned you just how he wanted.

You could hear the sound of Jensen unbuckling his belt behind you. Your breath quickened, and you felt a rush of excitement as his hands returned to your hips, his touch firm and commanding.

Jensen’s fingers brushed against your skin as he guided you into position, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his desire evident in every movement. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

Slowly, Jensen entered you, the sensation overwhelming and intensely pleasurable. The initial stretch was intense, your body still sore from the previous night, but the arousal coursing through you was too powerful to let the discomfort stop you. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he filled you completely.

Jensen sensed your tension, his hands soothingly caressing your sides. “You okay?”, he murmured.

You nodded, gripping the edge of the counter more tightly. “I’m fine”, you breathed out, your voice trembling with both pain and pleasure. “Just… keep going”.

Jensen pulled out slowly, his touch gentle and measured, before thrusting right back inside you. The movement was deliberate, meant to balance between pleasure and the lingering soreness. His grip on your hips tightened, a silent testament to the restraint he was exercising.

Each thrust sent waves of sensation through you, the initial pain gradually melting into a deep, throbbing pleasure. The rhythm he set was slow and steady, allowing your body to adjust and revel in the intimate connection.

Jensen’s fingers dug into your hips, his breath hot against your ear. “You feel so good”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking perfect”.

You moaned softly, pressing back against him, the pleasure building with each thrust. The combination of his gentle yet powerful movements and the undeniable chemistry between you heightened every sensation, making your body hum with need.

Jensen’s thrusts, though gentle, were incredibly deep, each one hitting your sweet spot with precision. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure radiating through your body with every movement. You felt your knees grow weak, and in a desperate attempt to stay upright, you pressed your cheek against the cool countertop, using it to steady yourself.

Jensen’s grip on your hips remained firm, guiding you as he continued his rhythmic thrusts. The way he moved, so controlled and deliberate, drove you wild with need.

“Jensen”, you gasped, your voice trembling with the intensity of the sensations coursing through you.

“I’m right here”, he groaned, his voice filled with a mix of desire and reassurance.

You could feel your body straining, the soreness and the intensity of his thrusts making it hard to catch your breath. “Jensen”, you gasped again, your voice a mix of pleasure and a hint of desperation, “I don’t know if I can handle much more”.

Sensing your need for a moment to regroup, Jensen’s hands moved soothingly over your hips. “Just relax”, he urged gently, his voice steady and calming. “I’ve got you”.

He slowed his movements, his thrusts becoming even more deliberate and controlled, giving you time to adjust and breathe. The change in pace allowed you to savor each sensation, the pleasure mingling with the remnants of your earlier soreness in a heady mix.

You focused on his voice, letting his words wash over you as you tried to relax into the rhythm. “That’s it”, he murmured, his hands still caressing your skin. “Just feel it”.

Jensen couldn’t help but marvel at how well you took him, his surprise and admiration evident in his touch. Each time he entered you, he could feel the way your body stretched to accommodate his size, a sensation that drove him wild with desire. The tightness, the way you enveloped him completely, was beyond anything he had ever experienced.

Jensen stilled for a moment, his body pressed tightly against yours. He leaned down and began to kiss your shoulders, his lips warm and soothing against your skin. His touch was meant to help you relax, to bring you back from the edge of discomfort and into a space where you could fully enjoy the connection between you.

However, as Jensen shifted his weight to better reach your shoulders, he unintentionally pushed even deeper inside you. The sensation made you shudder, your legs trembling as the pleasure surged through your body. Jensen could feel the way your body responded, the way you tightened around him.

The knowledge that he could make you feel this way, that he could bring you to the edge with just his touch, filled him with a heady mix of desire and satisfaction. He loved how he could weaken you out with just his dick, how he could make you lose control in his arms.

Jensen’s hands moved to your hips, holding you steady as he began to move again. His thrusts were slow and deep, each one hitting a new depth that made you gasp. The pleasure was intense, your body trembling with each movement, your legs barely able to support you.

His hands moved down to caress your ass, his touch both tender and possessive. “You take me so well”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Jensen’s hands squeezed your ass cheeks roughly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. The combination of pain and pleasure was intoxicating, making you gasp and moan with each squeeze. You could feel the imprint of his hands on your skin, a physical reminder of his possession and desire.

Jensen’s pace increased slightly, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The intensity of his movements, combined with the roughness of his grip, drove you closer to the edge. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps as the pleasure built within you, your body trembling with the effort to stay upright.

His voice, low and husky, whispered praises in your ear. “You feel so good, so tight around me”.

Jensen could sense how close you were, feeling your body tighten around his throbbing length inside you.

He continued his deep, urgent thrusts. His hands remained firmly on your ass, kneading and squeezing with a mix of possessiveness and admiration. He reveled in the way you trembled beneath him, your gasps and moans spurring him on.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”, Jensen murmured, his voice husky with need. He tilted his hips slightly, angling his thrusts to hit your sweet spot more directly. His movements became more precise.

Your breath hitched, your entire body on edge as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. The combination of his deep penetration, his commanding touch, and his intoxicating words pushed you right to the brink.

“Yes”, you gasped, barely able to form words as you felt the waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Jensen, I’m… I’m…”.

He silenced you with a rough tug on your hair, pulling your back flush against his chest. The sudden movement intensified the sensations, your body reacting to the dual assault of pleasure and pain. Jensen’s grip on your hair was firm but controlled, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

As he thrust deeply one last time, you felt him spill himself inside you, the warmth of his release filling you completely. His deep groan resonated in your ear, a sound of pure, primal satisfaction that sent shivers down your spine. The combination of his voice, the tug on your hair, and the sensation of him coming inside you pushed you over the edge.

Your body convulsed in his arms, your climax crashing over you in intense waves. Jensen held you tightly, his own body trembling with the force of his release.

As the intensity of your orgasms began to subside, Jensen loosened his grip on your hair, his hands moving to gently caress your sides. He pressed soft, soothing kisses to your neck and shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring.

You both stood there for a moment, catching your breath and savoring the afterglow. Jensen’s hands continued to caress your sides, his touch tender and loving. He pressed a few more soft kisses to your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“The way you come”, he mumbled against your ear, his voice filled with admiration and satisfaction, “it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen”.

You chuckled breathlessly, holding on to his forearms to steady yourself. His body pressed tightly against yours. You could feel him still throbbing inside you, slowly growing soft again.

Jensen’s hands slid up to your shoulders, his touch gentle as he helped you stand more upright. “You okay?”, he asked.

You nodded, smiling back at him. “Yeah, I’m more than okay”, you replied, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

He kissed your forehead, a gesture that made your heart swell with affection. “Good”, he said softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up”.

He pulled away reluctantly, easing himself out of you with a soft groan. You both felt the loss of connection immediately, but the warmth and intimacy between you remained.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 17

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[winchesterwild78]

The Director

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader (wife)

Warnings: None. This is a fluff piece.

A/N: Got inspired by a series of pictures  @jackles010378 posted. Just a quick story about a day on set with Director Jensen. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. All work is my own, do not take it or copy it without permission. Wrote this fast and edited it fast, please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen loved being an actor, but he also loved directing. He had a great eye that lended to amazing shots and takes. He was thrilled when he was approached to direct some episodes of his latest project. 

“Hey Y/N, how’s things going at home? How are the kids?” You heard your husband’s husky voice ask on the other end of the phone. “Hey babe, we’re good. They are outside playing and I’m fixing some lunch. Is everything okay? You sound off.” 

Jensen let out a long sigh, “Yeah, they asked me to direct the next few episodes.” “Oh Jens, that’s great! Why don’t you sound more excited?” “I don’t know. I guess I’m just nervous. It’s a lot of responsibility and I don’t want to screw it up.” “Jensen, you’re amazing at what you do. You always give all of yourself to anything you do. It doesn’t matter if it’s work, family or friends. You put all of yourself into everything. That’s one of the things I love about you. Jens, honey, you can do this.” 

“Thank you baby, I just needed to hear your voice. I love you.” “I love you too, Jensen, now, go do your thing baby.” You hung up and felt a pang of guilt. Jensen always put too much pressure on himself and you knew being by his side would help calm him. 

You grabbed your phone and called Gen. “Hey Gen, I have a huge favor to ask. Can you watch the kids for me? Jensen has been asked to direct and I’m afraid he’s spiraling.” “Sure, Y/N. Bring them over. We can all hang out and they can have a sleepover.” “Thanks, Gen! You’re the best.” 

You ran upstairs and packed yourself, and the kids. You took the kids to Gen and Jared’s and thanked her again. Then you headed for the shooting location. You were thankful this latest project was local enough so you could drive to set. 

You called Clif so he could meet you at security and get you inside without issue. You arrived and made it through security without any problem. “So, Clif. How is our boy doing? Honestly.” “Well, he’s stressed and of course he’s trying to make sure everything is perfect. You know how he hates to let people down.” “I know, thanks for getting me through security.” Clif hugged you and led you to the set. 

You saw Jensen behind the camera and he called cut as soon as you stepped in. He hadn’t seen you, and he was giving directions to the actors. You could see he was getting frustrated and he was trying to contain it. He called action and you watched as he moved around the set with the camera to get the perfect shot. 

One of the actors tripped and fell, so Jensen called cut again. The actor immediately started apologizing and Jensen put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, it happens. Are you hurt? Do you need a break?” The actor shook his head and told Jensen no. The actor looked no more than 20 so you knew he was new. Jensen was always so kind and understanding with mishaps on the set. Afterall, he and Jared did plenty to drive their directors crazy. 

Jensen saw what time it was and he cut for lunch. He was frustrated. As the room cleared out you saw him sit down, take off his hat and run his fingers up and through his hair. He let out a frustrated sigh. Seeing him like that always broke your heart.

You walked up behind him, his head still down and hands in his hair and you put your arms around him. “Hey there Mr. Director. You look like you could use a break.” You kissed his cheek. Jensen’s head went up and his big green eyes looked at you with excitement and love. “Hey baby, what are you doing here?” He stood and threw his arms around you and softly kissed your lips. “I had Gen watch the kids, and I came to see if I could help with my husband’s stress.” 

He sat back down and pulled you between his legs. Cupping your face he kissed you again, this time it was more passionate. “Come on baby, let’s get you to your trailer so you can eat some lunch and relax. I’ll rub your shoulders.”

The two of you walked back to his trailer, hand in hand and he wore a mischievous smirk. Once in his trailer he plopped down on the sofa and pulled you with him. He peppered kisses all over you and had you giggling. “I love hearing your laugh, darlin’. It’s one of my favorite things to hear.” You smiled at him, “I love when you make me laugh. Now, let’s get you some lunch. What do you want and I’ll make it or go get it.” 

“I’d rather just take you to the bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Jensen Ross Ackles!” You laughed. He stood up and grabbed you around your waist, “Y/N Y/M/N Ackles. I can’t help it. I'm in love with my wife and can’t wait to please her.” You giggled, “Fine, but you promise you’ll eat after.” “Darlin’ I plan on eating during.” He winked at you and you blushed. 

“Yes, I’ll grab something later.” You took his hand and led him back to the bedroom of his trailer. Clothes were shed and you helped Jensen relax and release all his built up stress. A few times actually.

By the time you two were finished he had about 15 minutes before he had to return to set. “Jens, you need to get dressed and back to set soon.” He pulled you closer to him and groaned, “Do I have to. I’d rather just lay here in your arms for the rest of the day.” “Me too, but you have a job to do. I’ll be here with you tonight. I have a bag packed and Gen is watching the kids.” His smile grew big, “That’s great. I will get you all to myself tonight.” You shook your head, “Now, go finish the shoot for the day.” 

You both got dressed and Jensen grabbed a quick bite from craft services. He pulled a chair up for you to sit next to him while he finished shooting for the day. You loved watching him work, and sitting next to him helped calm him. The rest of the shoot went smoothly. By the time Jensen called cut for the day, everyone was exhausted. 

Jensen took you by the hand and led you out of the set and towards his trailer. Once inside he pulled you close to him, “Thank you for coming to set today. I love you so much.” “You’re welcome baby. I love you too, Mr. Director.” 

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[buckymorelikefuckme]

small but mighty

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 712

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** smut ahead besties, teasing, sex toys / use of sex toy (m receiving), handjob. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: jakey baby go brrrr 🫨🫨🫨 lmao no but really this is just self indulgent filth idk what else to tell ya. i teased it here~ quickly read through but any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and highly encouraged! xoxo

jake jensen masterlist || main masterlist

He shouldn't have asked. It’s all he can think at the moment as his pulse throbs in his ears and his skin tingles with warmth. His entire being is humming with energy that he doesn't really know what to do with. He really shouldn't have asked.

But, like, he’s also kind of glad he did?

Listen. He found your toys—the whole trunk of them—and amidst the varying sizes and styles of dildos and nipple clamps and leather harnesses and bindings and every other thing that had him hard within minutes, he found a tiny and unassuming vibrator that he frowned at. Compared to everything else, he didn't really see what could be worth keeping this little toy for with the bells and whistles of the others.

So, naturally, after you found him sitting on the floor with your, ahem, toy box open and an expression on his face like he'd found a lost treasure, Jake asked what could be so great about it.

The grin you sent his way scared him and also made his dick twitch.

You told him a practical demonstration would be better. He'd been too blinded by his horniness to do anything besides hastily agree and immediately started stripping.

Which leads to the present. You're sitting on his legs in an effort to keep him still and it's only halfway working. But, in his defense, you've also got his cock in a firm grip, messy with lube and buzzing from the bullet vibrator he'd mistakenly judged too harshly. You've been dragging it along the length of him at an agonizing pace and he seriously can't help the way he writhes and twitches.

“Still think it's not a useful toy?” you ask, circling his tip with a look of concentration.

Jake’s hips buck beneath you, jostling you a bit. He apologizes breathlessly and tries to swallow past his dry mouth.

“N-No, I… I get it,” he acquiesces.

You smile at him, glancing at him from under your lashes. “Yeah? Do you think it feels good just here?” you wonder as you run it across his perineum. “Or do you think it would feel good elsewhere?”

“Wha…?”

His brain can't make sense of the question, but it catches on rather quickly when you take the vibrator away from his cock and tease his nipples with it. He gasps, gaze dropping where his nipples are becoming more sensitive than he ever thought they could. Goosebumps rise across his flesh and he shivers, closing his eyes as he pants for breath.

“They're very versatile,” you muse lightly.

“Yeah,” he replies, voice strained.

Slowly, you trail it down his chest and stomach, going past his leaking erection and to his balls. He jumps and lets out an undignified noise, and you choose that moment to begin stroking him in fast motions, slick sounds filling the air and mixing with his growing moans.

“Size doesn't matter, baby,” you tease.

He tries to laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. The muscles in his stomach clench and unclench, his hands torn between fisting the sheets and squeezing your hips as his orgasm creeps nearer. It's approaching rapidly and he tries to warn you, feels his thighs tense, but his jaw only slackens enough to let a guttural groan slip out.

“Come for me,” you whisper, and he can only do as he's told, shuddering as his cock pulses in your hand then spurts his release, dripping down your wrist and his balls.

He hears the vibrator get switched off, yet his ears are still buzzing from the pleasure racing through his veins. It takes him a moment to come down and to register the touch of your hands petting at his arms and shoulders.

“That thing packs a punch, huh?” he jokes.

You giggle and lean over him to give him a sweet kiss. “I know I said size doesn't matter,” you say, then bite your lip to contain your next giggle, “but I love your big dick, baby.”

Jake flushes and huffs, pinching your thigh and grunting when you pinch his nipple in retaliation. He's sated and more than happy that his silly question yielded such pleasing results.

Maybe he can ask about some more of your toys. You know, for science.

[cheynovak]

Just what I needed

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: Y/N has a bad moment after a hunt. She text Dean for comfort.

Warnings: None.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Y/N stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the "Send" button. She knew she probably shouldn't, but the weight on her chest was suffocating. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit send.

Y/N: *I could really use a hug right now.*

Her stomach immediately twisted with regret. What was she doing? She never did this—never let her walls down. And she definitely didn’t go running to Dean Winchester for comfort. She was tougher than that. At least, she tried to be.

A few moments passed before her phone buzzed with a reply.

Dean: *You okay?*

Her heart skipped a beat. Of course, he would be concerned. She never asked for help, never showed weakness. She started typing, trying to downplay the situation.

Y/N: *Yeah, I’m fine. Forget it. Long day, that’s all.*

She bit her lip, knowing Dean wouldn’t just forget it. He was Dean, after all.

Dean: *Don’t lie to me. What’s going on? You never ask for stuff like this.*

Her fingers hovered over the screen again. Damn it. Why did he have to see through her so easily?

Y/N: *Seriously, Dean, it’s no big deal. Just tired from the hunt. I’ll be fine. Really.*

Dean: *Be there in 10.*

Her eyes widened. Panic surged through her.

Y/N: *No, Dean, I’m fine! You don’t need to come over. I overreacted. *

But it was too late. She knew it. When Dean made up his mind, there was no stopping him.

Ten minutes later, she heard the rumbling sound of baby followed by a loud knock at the door, and the unmistakable sound of it swinging open with force.

"Y/N?" Dean called out, his voice filled with concern.

Before she could even think, she was moving—running to him. The moment she saw him standing in the doorway, her resolve crumbled. Without a word, she threw her arms around him, clinging to him as though he were the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Dean’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her tight. "Hey, I got you, sweetheart." he murmured into her hair, his voice soft, soothing. "It’s okay. I’m here."

Her face buried into his chest, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N let herself break. The tears she had been holding back for what felt like forever finally spilled over, soaking into Dean's flannel.

Dean just held her, one hand rubbing small circles on her back, the other resting securely around her shoulders. "You don’t always have to be strong, you know," he whispered. "It’s okay to let it out."

She shook her head against his chest, sniffling. "I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you come all the way here. I just... I don’t know what I was thinking."

"Don’t apologize," Dean said firmly, leaning back just enough to tilt her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "You had a crappy hunt. You needed a friend. You called me. That’s what I’m here for. You don’t have to do this alone, Y/N."

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. But as she stood there, wrapped in Dean’s warmth, she realized maybe—just maybe—she didn’t always have to be strong. At least, not when she had him.

And for now, that was enough.

--

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