#now if i met jensen............well.

[angelsdean]

i really have zero fangirl tendencies in front of the ppl i'm a fan of. i'm just like, that is just Some Person who makes cool things i like.

literally my sister and i were at a release party in nyc yesterday for nat and alex wolff's new album and it was a tiny ass bar, we were right there in front of them, and then after they were just hanging out outside and signing stuff and taking photos and some people were sooo fangirlish and over the top and well, we didn't get pics and only got one of two signatures bc we are just not gonna be obnoxious and demand photos or like pester them for attention lol like it was cool to just like, be there. and see them in person. but like, they are literally just some guys. it's my mentality for all 'celebs', they're just people who a lot of other people know about

[butch--dean]

the confession (jensen's version) | the night we met

"In my mind, I was sitting there thinking that... you know, it was like this flashback—you know they say that when you're about to die your life flashes before you. In my mind, I was flashing back to Lazarus Rising and seeing him walk through the barn with the sparks flying and all of the sudden all of these clips in my mind of Castiel and walking into the lake, and all of these things that are ingrained in my memory and seeing this now character have to say goodbye, but also knowing that my friend was in there having to struggle with this as well and I just thought he did such an artful job and such an incredibly nuanced performance in that moment that I was really proud of." x

inspired by @drulalovescas's post | watch it on youtube

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Sweet Not Home

Summary: The reader wakes up in bed next to a familiar but oh so strange man...

Pairing: Jensen x hunter!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Hooo boy enjoy this one!

You felt warm when you began to stir awake. There was a heavy blanket on you that was nice, not out of the ordinary for Dean to pile an extra one on the bed while you were sleeping. You rolled over in bed, smashing your face in a bare chest.

“Morning,” Dean mumbled. His voice wasn’t as deep and you wondered if he was coming down with something. You blinked open your eyes, resting your hands on his chest, running them down briefly before you cocked your head.

“Where’s your tattoo?” you asked carefully, putting your hand on his pec, ready to use your nails in the shifter’s flesh as a distraction. But this Dean was chuckling, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

“S’on my shoulder like always, silly,” he said, yawning and sighing softly. “You okay? You’re tense.”

You shifted your head up, noticing the white headboard, eyes darting around to see soft light colored walls, a large balcony door and a window overlooking a grassy backyard and pool.

“What the…” you said, standing and hopping out of bed, glad that you were at least in the t shirt and shorts you remembered falling asleep in. You went over to the door and pulled it open, Dean out of bed and moving to the other side of the room, hitting something on a white thermostat looking thing.

“Honey,” he said, walking over as you stood on the small balcony, leaning over the railing to look at a patio and some trees. “Y/N. Everything alright?”

“Where…” you asked, Dean sighing.

“We’re in Austin,” he said, running his hand gently over your head. You turned to look up at him, spotting him in a pair of navy boxers that he normally wore.

“Austin?” you asked, his arm sporting the tattoo he mentioned before but it wasn’t an anti-possession one.

“Okay,” he said, gently resting his hands on your shoulders and pulling you back into the very nice bedroom, soft carpet under your toes. He sat you on the bed and kneeled down in front of you. “The doctor said this might happen so that’s why he gave us the list of questions, remember?”

You had no idea what the hell was going on but you just shrugged, this guy very kind for a shifter if he was one.

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.

“Y/N,” you said.

“Your full name, sweetie,” he said, still smiling.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, the smile wiping off his face.

“That’s your maiden name,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “S’okay. We’ll keep going. What’s today’s date?”

“Um,” you said, thinking for a moment, Dean cocking his head when you answered.

“That’s right,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “Does your head hurt, honey?”

“My head? Why would my head hurt?” you asked.

“We were in a car accident two days ago. They were concerned you had a concussion. Last night was the first time you were at home. Do you not remember any of this?” he asked.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Dean? You know I love a good joke but now is not the time, Y/N,” said Dean. You swallowed hard, Dean putting a hand on your head. “What’s my name?”

“I…” you said, looking around the room for any kind of clue. Something had happened after your witch hunt obviously. Same name, different person. You were still Y/N where ever you were but a different version, paired up with a different Dean that apparently wasn’t named Dean. You were well off if your yard was anything to go off of so you definitely weren’t hunters. “I’m just tired. Sweetie.”

“Nice try. What’s my name?” he asked again.

“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded, curiously looking up at you. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s alright,” he said, very good at hiding the flash of concern that showed up on his face. “Do you-“

A phone started to ring, Not Dean ignoring it in favor for paying attention to you.

“Do you remember how we met at all?” he asked.

“Working a job,” you said, his face twitching up.

“That’s right,” he said, tilting his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m just...messing with you,” you said, the man pouting. He opened his mouth but a doorbell rang somewhere, the man getting to his feet.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he said, walking over to a closed door, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt from the floor as he went. The second he was out of the door you started to look around, trying to find clues about who he was. You could always make a break for it but in pajamas you didn’t think you’d get far, especially with this guy’s sweet husband thing he had going on.

You walked through an open door to a bathroom, cutting through it to find a closet. You sighed, wishing you’d found something with a name until you jogged back to the nightstand, a wallet on top.

“Yes,” you said, ripping it open and pulling out a Texas license. “Okay. Jensen Ackles. 6’ 1”. Organ donor. Well that’s nice and all but I still know nothing.”

You started to dig through the wallet, mostly credit and reward cards, some cash and a business card with a doctor’s name and number. There was a faded picture of him and a woman that looked exactly like you, the worn edges saying it was probably at least five years old.

You put the wallet back when you heard him coming, sitting back in your spot on the bed, trying to seem relaxed.

“Who was at the door, Jensen?” you asked innocently, Jensen lifting his chin.

“Kid up the street. Girl Scout cookies. I ordered you some thin mints,” he said, padding around to the side of the bed, arms crossed. “Don’t pull shit like that again. It’s not funny. You know how freaked I was after the accident.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, his face briefly looking hard before he started to drag his toes through the carpet.

“I get this feeling you’re lying to me,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’ve known you forever, kiddo. You have that look on your face.”

It’d be easy to lie and make something up. It’d be easy to fake a concussion too. Telling the truth would probably get you thrown in an institution.

Jensen tilted his head and walked over to you suddenly, grabbing your underwear and pulling the band down an inch.

“Hey!” you barked at him, kneeing him hard, Jensen falling to the floor.

“You don’t have a tattoo,” he said, getting to his feet slowly, pressing his thumb against your hip, wiping over your anti-possession one. “That’s real.”

He backed away from you, looking you up and down.

“You would never hit me like that because you know I don’t touch you like that and…” he said, tilting his head as he stared at your leg. “You don’t have a scar on your thigh. What…”

“Jensen...take a breather for me buddy,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “I can explain.”

“Am I nuts? You’re not my...did I die in that accident? Is this some-“

“Dude! Chill. You’re not dead,” you said, Jensen eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re fine. I’m the one that’s…”

“Not my wife?” he said, closing his eyes. “This is one of those freaky weird dreams that seems super real. That’s what it is. You definitely aren’t-“

“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said. “Hate to break it to you.”

“I was going to say, Reese,” he said. “You know, the character you play on a tv show. Now would be a great time to tell me this is a very in-depth prank.”

“Me? On TV? I have done some crazy stuff but that…” you said, Jensen nodding his head at you. “You’re freaking out.”

“Just a little,” he said. You hummed.

“I guess I have to give you the civilian talk,” you said.

“The what?” he asked.

“Just take a seat, Jensen.”

_________

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 16 - Chéri

Aha, so I went a different route this time and the POVs are all over the place! But I enjoyed how this one turned out. Hit me in all the feels. just a bit angsty but nothing too terrible!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter! much love from me

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Arthur hated the rain. 

Sure, you seemed happy when you danced with P and splashed in the puddles as you waited for the signal for you to get in your car. The smile on your face should have been enough to damper his bad feelings. 

But it was raining. And it was Suzuka. 

He felt heavy as he got ready earlier that morning. The sad smile on Charles’s face hadn’t helped either. They both felt it when their feet touched the asphalt. They felt it as they held onto each other for a little longer than usual before Charles got dressed. 

He tried to take deep breaths before the cameras turned on as he was supposed to help Jensen and Nico with the interviews today. Both ex-drivers seemed to understand the weight that this track had on the younger Monegasque, so they covered the heavier questions. 

Arthur could only be glad that he was technically supporting you today. The navy polo felt itchy on his skin. Sure, he missed the red polo with the yellow symbol, but navy was your color. It helped him feel closer to you, when you were kilometers away in your car. 

He could tell people wanted to ask. He knew they were itching to just say, “How does it feel to be back on the circuit that killed your godfather.” But, they’d never ask, they would just send sad smiles that didn’t quite reach anyone’s eyes. 

Even you, his smiley best friend, could tell something was off. 

Arthur’s hands itched more than the skin under the polo. He would never be able to explain the sensation, but they itched. Maybe he should hold a cold can of Red Bull to cool the burn, but that wouldn’t help. 

His eyes were strained as he watched the data computer in front of him. He checked and checked again. 

Your tires would be fine. There’d be no stray cranes or tractors. The car was safe. 

Well, that’s what everyone told him and Charles 9 years ago.  

You scared him when you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Jumpy today?” you questioned. You were already in your thick race suit, a helmet was in your hands. It wasn’t anything special, just your plain navy and gold one. You had already showed him your special one for Miami. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to answer. “A bit.” 

A sad smile formed on your face. Right now, he didn’t need words. He just needed you and Charles to be safe, and not be in the car this weekend. 

He finally sighed and turned to face you as he took your helmet in your hands. For a moment, he thought about smashing the damn thing, since he knew you didn’t have a backup. But what would be the point. 

He placed the lid on your head, keeping it above your forehead. “Starting pole today?” 

Now your smile was genuine. “Yep! Thur, I have a chance to win this!” 

He tried to mirror the smile, but again, it didn’t reach his eyes. Normally, he’d wait to kiss the “forehead” of you helmet, but today he needed a little something extra. 

Your eyes closed as he leaned in and placed a kiss on your head, almost between your eyes. You placed your hands on top of his, where they were still holding your helmet as a mushroom hat. 

You whispered, “Are you ok?” 

Arthur backed up just a bit. “Like you said, a bit jumpy.” 

Looking back, you knew you should have listened to the warning bells that were going off in your head. Arthur was rarely jumpy. 

And he loved the rain. 

You stepped closer and gave him a hug. Tears might have pooled at his lash line, but he’d never admit to it. He squeezed just a bit tighter before letting you go, so you could get into your car. 

Another hand was placed on his shoulder. His eyes met the figure of Kelly, who was holding P. Her eyes, he thinks, were trying to tell him that you’d be alright. That Charles would be alright. And that nothing would go wrong. 

How wrong she was.

Starting Grid: 

Y/n L/n 

Max Verstappen 

Charles Leclerc 

Fernando Alonso 

Carlos Sainz 

Lewis Hamilton 

Lando Norris 

Lance Stroll 

Oscar Piastri 

George Russell 

Alex Albon 

Pierre Gasly 

Logan Sargeant 

Esteban Ocon 

Yuki Tsunoda

Daniel Ricciardo 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the Japanese Grand Prix. Y/n L/n gets a good start down the first straight with her teammate Max Verstappen right behind her. Charles Leclerc goes wide, trying to gain the position around Verstappen, as the Dutchman is still trying to get the jump ahead on his rookie teammate and does he have it on the first turn? 

“No he does not! Y/n L/n leads the Japanese Grand Prix!” 

Was it normal if his heart was racing just as fast as these cars were? Well, for some fans it would be due to excitement. And, deep down, Arthur was very excited. You were doing everything that you ever dreamed of doing. 

You’d make 5-year-old Y/n proud. 

“Looks like the rain is drying up a bit. We’ll see who gets called into the pits first, and it looks like our race leader has been called in to switch. Now, she started on the intermediates and looks like she’ll be going to the hards. Weird call, but so far this season she has been on the bad end of tyre degradation. So we’ll see if she’ll be able to keep her lead with the hards. 

“Seems as though she has started a train of pit stops and still comes out in P1.” 

Your car was cruising. Yes, your heart was racing, maybe going as fast as your RB20. And it was due to excitement. You were leading, with a comfortable gap. Right now, you couldn’t see anything in your mirrors. 

You pressed your radio. 

“Mitch, what is the gap? And will I be able to take a win or do I need to let Max by?” you questioned. You were hoping that it’d be the first instance. Your maiden race win on your fourth Formula 1 race. What a start that would be. 

Mitch finally answered. “Just talked to Christian. If Max is able to catch you, then you’d need to let him by. But, right now your pace is the same if not faster than his. So, kid, I’d suggest you keep making qualifying laps and you might be a race winner today.” 

“Copy.” 

Your car jerked around a corner as you continued to press. 

You were hungry, starving even, for that win. You’d show everyone who doubted you that you were capable of winning. 

Yet, around the spoon corner of turn 13 and 14, the RB20 slid a bit more than you intended to. 

Your finger flew to the radio button. “Uh, Mitch what was that?” 

Her response was immediate. “Your breaks are a bit hot. I know I told you to push, but please slow down on the turns.” 

“Got it. And who is the car in front of me? Did someone get around or?” 

“That’s Ocon. He dropped down after he pitted and will be a lapped car in about a lap or so.” 

Arthur listened from the pits as Mitch gave you some advice. The first time he saw your car jerk a bit too much, he swore he died right there. He was thankfully given a pair of headphones so that he could listen in on whatever you said. They were uncomfortable, but he’d do anything right now to be closer to you. 

He watched as you got closer and closer to the Alpine. If you got around it, you’d be home free with almost 10 laps to go. 

Your first win. He could almost taste it for you, and he wasn’t even hungry for a victory. And maybe after your win, it’d be a good time for a confession. 

But he had hope that things wouldn’t end like that. 

You’d get a win and he’d get the one thing he’s wanted ever since you scared him at the first meeting. 

“Mitch, he’s braking hard on the turns. Can you please let the stewards know? He’s going to be a lapped car but is defending like he’s in first place.” 

One of the Red Bull engineers immediately got on it. 

“Mitch?” 

Was Arthur hearing things, or did you sound panicked? 

“Yeah Kid? We’re on it about the breaking.” 

“He’s not letting me by! And my breaks are acting weird again.” 

You sounded panicked. Mitch pressed a couple of buttons as Arthur started to nibble on his fingers. 

“Mitch! My breaks.” 

“Kid, they’re overheating. You need to slow down.” 

“Mitch I need to get around him. Seven more laps left.” 

“Kid, I know that, but we don’t need you spinning out.” 

Arthur’s hands began to burn as the itch got worse. 

“He’s going deep. I can go around.” 

“Kid, it’s too risky. Just wait until he’s given a penalty.” 

“I can do it! I’ll be a race winner!” 

“Kid, hold on!” 

“I got it!” 

Arthur’s heart stopped racing. 

“Kid!” 

“L/n tries to go around the outside of Ocon and…” 

Oh.

The sound was silent and deafening at the same time. 

A ringing sound echoed in his ears as he watched your car flip and flip and flip. 

Asphalt. Sky. Asphalt. Sky. Asphalt. Sky. Grass. Sky. Grass. Sky. Grass. Sky. Barrier. 

Black. 

The garage was in chaos, but somehow everything was going in slow motion? Arthur just stood still as everyone raced around.  

“That is the Red Bull of Y/n L/n that has gone into the barriers. It seems to be wedged upside down and stuck. Do we have any answer from inside the car?” 

Mitch frantically held down the radio button. 

“Kid answer me? Kid? Come on. This isn’t funny.” 

Arthur just stood still. 

Next to Mitch, GP was on the radio with Max. 

The Dutchman passed the accident site first. 

“Ah, was that Ocon? Serves him right for last week. Gap to Y/n please?” 

“Uh. That is a red flag Max,” GP sighed, “please come back to the pits.” 

“Fine. Tell the kid that we can drink a juice box or something.” 

“Just come in.” 

The rest of the drivers got similar radio messages. 

“Be careful. Red flag, there’s a Red Bull in the barriers Charles.” 

Charles’s heart dropped but he covered it with a chuckle, blissfully unaware. “Max finally made a mistake?” 

There was no answer from Xavi. 

“Red flag, return to the pits Lando.” 

“To the pits please Lewis, there’s a red flag.” 

“George, come in. Red flag is out and you need to get to the pits.” 

“Ah, Daniel, red flag. Back to the pits please.” 

“Oscar, please come to the pits. There’s been an accident and it’s a red flag.” 

“Logan? Pits please, the red flag is out.”

“Arthur!” 

The yell of his name brought him out of his stupor. His eyes met Mitch’s brown ones, where she was beckoning him over. He took the itchy headphones off and all but sprinted over to the pit wall. Immediately, Mitch put her own headphones on his head. 

“Talk to her. Get her talking.” 

It was a command that Arthur would take to heart. 

“Y/n?” Damn it, voice crack. “Y/n, please let me know you’re ok?” 

“It seems as though Arthur Leclerc is trying to get L/n to respond. Is there still nothing? The marshals are over there, and are trying, but she’s not out of the car yet?” 

Max looked around for your matching Red Bull. Two juice boxes were in his hands as he looked for your helmet. Had you gone for another lap on accident? He turned to the red-clad Monegasque who was weirdly frozen next to him. 

“Hey Charles, where’s Y/n…” 

The juice boxes fell to the ground as Max’s attention was now on the big screen that was broadcasting the wreck site. 

Next to him, Charles’s eyes were welling up with tears. His head swerved as he tried to find his brother. Curse him for wearing the dark polo. 

“Hey, Charlie?” 

A voice called for him through the fog, but his brain was hyper-active. Two hands were placed on his shoulders and blue eyes blocked the big screen. 

“She has a halo. Right now, they’re trying to get her out, ok?” Max tried to comfort the Ferrari driver, but was having some issues not crying as well.  

Charles mindlessly nodded. Pierre had come by a few moments later and brought him into a hug. It was then he let the tears fall along with his knees as he dropped to the asphalt. 

Max whispered as tears began to fall. “Come on kid. Just answer please.” His hands were tucked under his face, almost as if he were in prayer. 

Lando and Oscar held on to each other, trying to offer some comfort. Daniel stood behind them, hands at his sides. 

In his mind, he only thought, “Was he going to lose another friend to this track?” 

Charles was still on the ground, being comforted by Pierre as he rocked back and forth. “No, no, no. This cannot be happening again. Pas encore, pas elle. J’ai perdu Jules, je ne peux pas la perdre, Arthur ne peut pas la perdre. S’il te plait, s’il te plait, s’il te plait.” (Not again, no her. I’ve lost Jules, I can’t lose her, Arthur can’t lose her. Please, please, please.”)  

Logan sat numbly on the ground a little ways away. He had gone to get his headphones first thing to block everything out. He would laugh if he could at the next song that played through the speakers, but didn’t. Life is a Highway wouldn’t have the same meaning after today. 

Alex was on the phone with Lily, trying to update his girlfriend. You weren’t close with Alex yet, but he saw how well you treated his teammate. 

Lewis and George were couped up in the Mercedes garage. Lewis had refused to turn around and look at the big screen. Ten years hadn’t even passed since it last took a life and Lewis wasn’t about to see them drag your body from under the wreckage. George was trying to cope. Sunglasses were on to hide his tears and red eyes. 

At this moment, they were all prepared for what was to come: your body draped with a white blanket. 

Arthur was still trying. In this moment, it was just you and him. You were alive, you had to be. 

“Y/n? Please answer me? I-I can’t lose you. Ok? Can’t lose you like Jules. S’il te plait, tu dois aller bien. Nous avons encore tellement de choses a faire. Tu as besoin d’une victoire, et je te dire ce je ressens. Chéri…” (Please, you have to be ok. We still have so much to do. You need a race win, and I need to tell you how I feel.”)

A crackling noise came over the radio, right as he was about to give up. His breath hitched. 

“Y/n?” 

“Heeyyyyy,” you voice sounded. A sob escaped from Arthur’s lips. 

His hands didn’t itch anymore. 

“You are an idiot.” 

A groan left your mouth. “I know. Shit, I’m stuck.” 

Mitch, who now had another headphone set on her head, started to talk. “Ok kid. The RB20 was designed for this. You just have to keep kicking the side.” 

You sighed. “Ok.” 

You managed to scrunch yourself in the cockpit and began to kick. That was the moment that Arthur ran back to the garage. 

“She’s awake and answering!” 

Cheers filled the air while Christian crouched down. 

“Thank God,” he whispered, before standing back up and walking out to the pit lane. 

Kelly was the one to grab Arthur’s shoulder. “Come, I can drive you to the hospital. She’ll need us.” 

With a nod of his head, Arthur grabbed your bag and off he, P, and Kelly went. Vito quickly followed after them, hands full of your documentations and everything you'd need.

On the pit lane, Max watched as the wall of your RB20 suddenly flew away from the car. 

“Charles,” he barely whispered, but the Monegasque heard him somehow and stood up swiftly. A hand grasped his shoulder, and he whipped around to find Christian. 

“She’s ok.”

By now, everyone’s eyes were trained on the car. Marshals swarmed around it, ready for anything. What they didn’t expect though, was for one leg to swing out and then another. By the time they got over their shock, you were already halfway out. They quickly kneeled to help you further. 

“She is out of the car and looks completely fine! She will have to be taken to the hospital. Our calculations are showing that when she stopped, she experienced 54 g-forces. We don’t know if the race will be continued for the remaining 7 laps, but we will keep you updated.” 

Your feet squished the grass as you limped toward the on-site ambulance. You looked around and saw multiple cameras, watching your every move. You were thankful for some of the marshals who tried to push them away. But, in the back of your mind, you knew you needed to let everyone know you were fine. 

So, with a probably sprained ankle, you started to lightly bounce and raise your hands and wave. A few laughs were let out by the people around you. You pressed a finger toward you heart and then lifted it to the sky. 

Charles knew exactly what you were doing. He finally lifted himself off the ground, with Pierre’s help, and did the same motion. 

Thank you Jules. 

Max was back in the garage, now getting ready for the last few laps. He was angry. Honestly, they should just let everyone go, but a race is a race and it’s not completed. 

Mitch and GP came over. 

“Kelly went with Arthur and P to the hospital. She says that she’ll keep us updated,” GP told him. 

Mitch sucked in a breath. “We’ll let you know how she is after the race. And Max?” 

He turned to your engineer. 

“Win for her. Ok?” Tears lined her eyes. 

Max nodded, wanting to win for you. 

He put his helmet on and stalked toward his car. 

“And Max?” This time it was Christian, who had jogged up next to him. Max turned his head, full attention on his team principal. 

“Give Ocon hell for us.” 

Max turned back toward his car, eyes quickly darting to the alpine vehicle. 

Oh, he would. 

Race Results: 

Max Verstappen +25

Charles Leclerc +18 

Lando Norris +15 

Oscar Piastri +12

Carlos Sainz +11

Lewis Hamilton +8

George Russell +6 

Daniel Ricciardo +4 

Alex Albon +2 

Fernando Alonso +1

Logan Sargeant +0 

Yuki Tsunoda +0

Pierre Gasly +0 

Valtteri Bottas +0

Lance Stroll +0 

Kevin Magnussen +0

Nico Hulkenberg +0 

Zhou Guanyu +0 

Esteban Ocon +0 

Y/n L/n – DNF 

Standings after Suzuka 

Max Verstappen – 100 points 

Charles Leclerc – 66 points 

Lando Norris – 42 points 

Y/n L/n – 41 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 32 points 

Oscar Piastri – 31 points 

Carlos Sainz – 28 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points 

George Russell – 20 points 

Alex Albon – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 0 points

Lance Stroll – 0 points

Pierre Gasly – 0 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 0 points

Zhou Guanyu – 0 points

Kevin Magnussen – 0 points

Nico Hulkenberg – 0 points

Valtteri Bottas – 0 points

Esteban Ocon - 0 points

Constructors Standings after Suzuka 

Red Bull – 214 points 

Ferrari – 139 points 

McLaren – 105 points 

Mercedes – 87 points 

Racing Bulls – 36 points 

Aston Martin – 26 points 

Williams – 4 points

Alpha Romeo – 0 points

Haas – 0 points

Alpine – 0 points 

f1 has posted *pretend there are no cars in the back of the second photo*

f1 Y/n L/n is out of the Japanese Grand Prix following a nasty impact! Mechanics who looked at her car found a faulty brake pad that caused an intense lock up on turn 15. The Red Bull rookie would have experienced around 54 G's when her car finally stopped at the barrier. L/n was escorted to the local hospital and was later released today.

liked by y/n_nation, maxiel_lover, iamred_iamyellow, and 94,873 others

y/n_updates I am so thankful that she's ok now, my heart stopped for a few minutes until she got out

y/nxarthur Arthur's and Charles's faces as they were waiting for her to get out, I was sobbing

leclerc4ever well, considering they lost their godfather at this exact circuit almost ten years ago, I felt their pain through the screen thur_thur exactly, Arthur's cries over the radio will haunt me for the rest of my life

box_box_express does anyone know who went with her? obviously the drivers had to finish the race

y/n_nation some sources say that Arthur and Kelly went with her as well as her manager Vito box_box_official thank you!

rb_rookie Red Bull finally released a statement that they will be looking into the faulty part, because apparently Max was also having the same issue

y/n_lover glad our girl is ok, but did anyone see how mad Max was? she locked up because she was breaking too hard behind Ocon. He needs to be stopped because this is Y/n's second impact and its all because of him

f1_fanatic ikr, and he was about to be a lapped car too!

b0x_b0x_nightmare she flipped almost 10 times, she could have died - Jules was definitely keeping her safe (thank you halo)

y/n_marry_me AND THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HER FIRST WIN TOO GRRRRRRRR

f1_gossip has posted

f1_gossip looks like Mad Max is BACK. The dutch driver was seen yelling at Alpine driver Esteban Ocon after the race. Some sources say he was needed to be held back and Ocon had to be escorted back to his own garage. Max also barely responded to any of the post-race media interviews and immediately left after he was done.

tagged: maxverstappen1

liked by max_max_super, f1_fanatic, y/n_on_TOP, and 24,028 others

f1-fan BAHAHAHA I was laughing my ass off when Max was yelling at Ocon because he deserved it

max_max the return of Mad Max (although I wish it was under different circumstances, I feel so bad for Y/n)

lestappenlove I also saw Charles join in on the yelling as well

max&kid well deserved for Ocon. Seriously though, he needs to have like a penalty or something

y/n_fanclub is it bad that I wished Max would have punched him?

max_is_da_best nope, because I think we all wanted that to happen

leclercxverstappen I know for sure that if Arthur was there, he would have gone off too, you don't mess with Y/n and expect to walk away unhurt

max33 he was FUMING

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 everything hurts but pookie made it better with Macas, Cars 2, and the Porsche 911 Lego set - I'll be back, that top step is MINE

tagged: arthur_leclerc

liked by ollibearman, lewishamilton, danielricciardo, y/n_updates and 73,911 others

y/n_nation so happy for the update! we're all so glad that you're ok!

oscarpiastri mad that he got a picture and not me, I was literally also there

logansargeant and I brought your blanket?? y/n.89 but did you bring me macas, my favorite movie, AND legos?

olliebearman that's it mom - I'm coming to visit before you actually die

y/n.89 SON! olliebearman MOM! arthur_leclerc son? olliebearman DAD? maxverstappen1 son?! charles_leclerc dad?! olliebearman grandfathers? landonorris hold-up

y/n_updates POOKIE?? HELLO?

y/nxarthur me rn, having the urge to say something about the word "pookie": STAY IN THE BOX, NO! STAY IN THE BOX, NO!

that_1_y/n_fan I wonder what the doctor said

y/n.89 basically I have bruises in the shape of my seatbelt and a sprained ankle from kicking the side of the RB20 to get out. just some r&r needed before Shanghai! y/n.fan703 oh my gosh feel better!

danielricciardo hope you feel better darl! Heidi and I will be over with some actual food

lewishamilton Roscoe says that you need some snuggles, we'll come over when you tell us to francisca.gomez coming over with pear and some other get better goodies :D y/n.89 I love you all!

maxverstappen1 was the Lego set really necessary?

arthur_leclerc YES y/n.89 YES landonorris YES oscarpiastri YES logansargeant YES maxverstappen1 ok sheesh, sorry

y/n-y/n-fan is no one going to address the middle picture??

author shhhhhhhh (its for the plot)

f1_fanatic Ocon better watch out cause it's on SIGHT

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[artyandink]

You should definitely do an imagine of Jensen's characters reacting to stretch marks!! I need that 😜😔

nature’s beauty

SUMMARY: You have stretch marks. How would the boys react to that?

TW: Body image, issues with stretch marks— but they’re normal girlies, I have them too, Jensen’s characters being normal about it cause yeah, mild angst, mild smut, mentions of sex, making out, spice

SONG INSPO: Golden Hour by JVKE, Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara

DEAN WINCHESTER

Dean kissed down your body, undoing your jeans and pushing them down. He had you on your back in his bed, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he marked your skin like the possessive son of a bitch he was, taking your panties with them. “Fuck, baby, you’re gorgeous.”

Dean was the type of guy to hit on every girl he saw, but that’s cause he found them beautiful. Shape or size. Then he met you, and he kept coming back for more and eventually made you his girlfriend after being a charming son of a bitch instead. He normally kissed every dip and curve he found, but today, you pressed your thighs together.

Not in a sexy way. You’d closed your legs. That was a problem— were you ok? You weren’t hurt, right? Or maybe you were on your period, but he didn’t see a pad on your panties and your cycle would be coming way too early— better to ask you.

“You ok, sweetheart?” Dean asked you, lifting his head up and sitting back on his heels, and you were turned on by the sight of his freckled, muscled upper body but also scared he’d get turned off by seeing the stretch marks that had appeared on your stomach and upper thighs. Well, not so much appeared, but you figured you lost some weight.

You nodded, trying to not look at the very obvious stretch marks and play your crippling insecurity off at the same time. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But Dean’s eyes followed yours, and they landed on the stretch marks, and his thumbs immediately moved to trace them. “Darlin’, you can’t seriously think I’m gonna mind these.” Then he saw the embarrassed look on your face, and he kissed down your stretch marks, which surprised you. “God, I love ‘em. It’s nature, baby. Shows you’re a damn beautiful woman with damn beautiful normal things. And guess what?”

He climbed back up until your face was level with his, and he gave you a kiss that blew your mind, took your breath away. “You’ve earned yourself a first class, five star worshipping.”

Your eyes widened, knowing what that meant. “Wait, Dean—”

Your legs went over his shoulders, a wicked grin on his face. “Can’t have my gorgeous girl feelin’ insecure, hm? So you’re gonna feel good. All. Night. Long.”

BEN

You’d just come off the effects of giving birth, and man, when Ben realised that one, you had his kid and two, you were ready to get fucked into oblivion again, he was ecstatic. You’d had a baby girl, Austin, named after the city (“Austin? What the fuck kinda name is— wait, that’s actually perfect.”) and she quickly became a daddy’s girl, as Ben promised you she would as soon as he held the baby in his gigantic hands.

But then there came the problem of stretch marks.

Your belly had, in your words, ‘deflated’, but now you were left with the horror of stretch marks, which kind of made you think. What would Ben say? He loved his women ripe and pretty and perfect, what would he say if he saw those marks on your skin?

You found out when you were standing shirtless in your bedroom, inspecting the marks when Ben stepped in, and his libido fired up the moment he saw you standing with only your bra on. That’d be torn off in a few moments, he was sure.

“Hello, sexy mama.” He grinned wolfishly, stepping behind you, dropping his lips to your neck as his hands rubbed over the stomach that held his kid. “Don’t know about you, but I’m lookin’ to pamper my gorgeous wife and the mother of my kid. Gonna make you come so many times, I swear to God.”

But when you stopped his hand from going down the front of your pants, he raised his eyebrows. Not the time? Or… did someone hurt you?

“Sweetcheeks, did something happen?” He asked, his brow now furrowing. Ben was an impatient man. “I swear, baby girl, you tell the name of the motherfucker who hurt you and I’ll-”

“You don’t see them?” You asked in confusion, and his eyes travelled around the room and then back to you in mirrored emotion. See what? What the fuck was he supposed to see?

Ben chuckled, cupping your cheek. “Did you get into my weed? Are you high, gorgeous?”

“No, I’m not high.” You smiled despite yourself, and gestured down to your stomach, rubbing over the marks. “These. You don’t… see them? You don’t care?”

Ben scoffed, his hand resting over yours to stop them from moving. “Why the fuck should I care when this is proof that you carried our kid? Shit, darlin’, you did that for nine months. If anything, that’s a mark of a damn strong woman, and that? It turns me on. Gets me going.” A kiss to your neck. “Gets me rock hard.” Another kiss, pressing himself fully against your back so you could feel it. “Ain’t no life in which you won’t turn me on, babydoll.”

It brought a smile to your face.

“Now, you’re gonna sit pretty, and I’m gonna fuck this crap out of that gorgeous little head’a yours.”

Shit.

BEAU ARLEN

“H-Hey, Beau, c’mon, that tickles!” You were lying on your back on the bed, your shirt pushed up while Beau kissed over your stretch marks, beard tickling your skin while his hands held your hips in place.

But the Texan cowboy looked up with a shit-eating grin, pressing another kiss to another mark. “You’re the one who felt insecure about this, darlin’. I’ve gotta give it some good old Texan lovin’, so you brought this on yourself.”

He continued kissing over them, fingers tracing them while you couldn’t help but giggle and squirm, but also feel reassured. “Come on, handsome, I get the point.”

Beau still gave you an indignant look paired with a smirk— the stubborn bastard. “No can do, gorgeous. Can’t tear myself away from these. It’s like they’re magnetic.” He continued pressing kisses to them, chuckling under his breath.

His hands kneaded your hips, then rubbed comfortingly up and down your sides, humming at every press of his lips to your stretch marks as if he belonged there.

Beau kissed up your body, then nuzzled his nose against yours before pressing a slow kiss to your lips, covering your hand that came up to cup his cheek, your giggles dissolving into an identical hum. His lips were soft, and they felt like home. He was your home.

When he pulled back, Beau took your hand in his and pressed kisses to your knuckles this time, then every finger.

“I love every inch’a you, sugar.” He rumbled with a loving smile, brushing your hair out of your face. “Don’t you ever forget that, y’hear me?”

CJ BRAXTON

You and CJ were cuddling on the pull-out couch in your co-ed, your head tucked into the crook of his neck while his arms were around you like a koala. His hand rubbed up and down your side over your shirt, fingers lightly brushing your skin and tracing patterns.

It was no secret to anyone that CJ adored you so much it could give him a cavity with how sweet he was on you. He kept on looking down at you, a small smile on his face while he thought of how much of a lucky bastard he was.

His hand slipped under your shirt, not to initiate anything like sex but to just feel you closer, but his fingers brushed your stretch marks and he instantly felt your hand take his wrist, stopping him. That set him off into a world of worry.

“Woah, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, frowning as his eyes abandoned the movie, instantly locking on you. “Everything ok? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, it’s fine, just don’t wanna be touched there.” You murmured, kissing his cheek, but he didn’t believe that. His hand slowly lifted up your shirt, watching you for any signs of extreme discomfort, or even slight. But you didn’t stop him, so when he saw your stretch marks, he raised his eyebrows with a smile.

“Hey, there, beautiful.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over them. “Where have you been hiding?”

Wait, what? He didn’t mind?

“You don’t- you’re not grossed out, or you don’t hate them?” You asked, severely confused but hopeful. And slightly embarrassed that you immediately expected him to hate them.

CJ’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, and he kissed your forehead. “Being grossed out by these is like being grossed out when you get your period, and I love you even more when you’re on your period. I get to cuddle with you and love you. This right here just gives me an extra opportunity to show you how beautiful you are. These are normal. It’s a natural process, and I’m a nature guy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” He grinned, kissing you briefly but sweetly, and it melted all your nerves. He was controversially perfect, you thought, and that made you love him even more.

Damn him.

“Thank you.” You sighed, cupping his cheek. He responded with a smile and kissed the inside of your wrist, rubbing the marks on your skin with a grin on your face.

CJ looked down to the stretch marks, kissing you deeply. “Don’t you ever think anything about you makes you less than.” He murmured against your lips, hand coming up to cup your chin.

ALEC MCDOWELL

Alec McDowell, a cocky-ass son of a bitch. He knew it, everyone knew it, and he did well to remind everyone of it whenever he opened his goddamn mouth. However, he was your cocky-ass son of a bitch, because he was your boyfriend.

As he was a transgenic and you were a human, he’d heard of stretch marks but never seen them on a person because transgenics didn’t have bodily imperfections. It was practically impossible. So when you opened up to him about your insecurities about them, well, he was more than willing to comfort you even if he was inwardly confused as fuck.

You were beautiful. What was this nonsense?

“I don’t see anything that ain’t beautiful, if that’s what you’re asking.” He shrugged, being a little shit and acting as if your stretch marks didn’t exist. “In fact, I see some gorgeous tiger stripes. Absolutely stunning.”

The comparison had you chucking a throw pillow to him, which he caught, obviously. “Alec!”

Alec gave you a grin, setting the pillow aside and catching another one. “What, you’re telling me those things don’t look like tiger stripes? Come on, dollface. Be entirely honest.” He pointed at the stretch marks with a sexy smirk that would’ve had your knees weak not for the situation. “Tiger. Stripes. Cause you’re fierce. Majestic.”

“You’re actually crazy.” Despite yourself, you were grinning like a lovesick idiot.

“Crazy for you, baby.” He replied with a wink, setting the pillow aside before reaching the bed with his advanced speed, beginning to kiss your neck. “Now, about that body of yours…”

JASON TEAGUE

“Wait- hold on for a moment.” Jason raised an eyebrow, pulling back from kissing you senseless on your bed. “You saying ‘I wanna show you something’ wasn’t code for sex? Baby, we gotta make signals more clear.”

You lifted your shirt, showing Jason the marks around your stomach. His eyebrows raised slightly at them, and you bit your lip. “Is this ok with you?”

Is this ok?

Is this ok?

“Should it not be?” He raised his eyebrow with a small smile. “I’m not fazed by these, sweetheart. In fact, the fact that you have normal bodily reactions, that makes you more gorgeous to me. In fact, the knowledge that you breathe turns me on, because it’s normal.” You could practically taste the amusement in his words, and you swatted his shoulder with a laugh.

“Alright, I get it.” You pouted, and he let out a small ‘aww’ and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple. “I get it.”

Jason hummed, cupping your chin so he could turn it for a slow kiss. “Look, I’m gonna revert back to… seventh grade. I think. And I have no shame in it, especially not when I say that I think you’re really pretty. And I think you’re smart, and funny, and you have a killer body - that’s not seventh grade - but my point is that nothing about that bothers me. Ok? So don’t let it bother you, I don’t love you any less.”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Dean Winchester Prompt Response

Summary: You and Dean refuse to speak to one another after an argument and Sam has finally had enough.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I loved writing this but I always love it when it comes to Dean. 😊 And of course, I couldn't resist when it came to Sam in the end. Brothers, gotta love 'em. ;)

Thank you to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Female!Huntress!Reader

Warnings: mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 1449

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Leah version ✨ Alec version

Dean snuck a glance at you only to quickly look away when you looked up from your lore book. In return, you snuck a peek at him but pretended you were looking at something else when he lifted his head from one of the hunter’s journals he’d found in storage. 

Sam had watched this infuriating dance happen at least twelve times by now and it was getting on his last nerve. At first, he thought it was hopeful. Then heartbreaking. Now it was just damn aggravating, more so because he knew his older brother was being his usual stubborn self. All he needed to do was come out and apologize already, and Dean knew that yet still refused to budge an inch.

You and Dean had gotten into an argument during the last hunt. He’d been upset that you had taken on three vamps by yourself—something you had done back in your high school days, along with killing other creepy things that slithered out of the dark. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, which you had proven multiple times, and you knew when to ask for help. Dean didn’t want to hear it, claiming you could have been killed had he and Sam not been close by. You both dug in your heels no matter what Sam said, and you two were still at an impasse, giving each other the silent treatment. Still, that didn’t stop the longing glances Dean gave you when you weren’t looking, or the sad looks you gave him when he was none the wiser. It was driving Sam nuts. He had never met two people who were so stubborn—aside from his parents, of course—and now that he thought about it, stubborn or not, you and Dean were well-suited for one another.

“You know,” Sam broke the silence. “At some point, you two are going to have to talk to each other again.”

Dean shot him a surreptitious glare. You had no problem offering a withering glare of your own.

“Look,” Sam continued. “Y/N is right, she can take care of herself and if she needs our help, she’ll say something.” At your triumphant smile, Dean’s gaze darkened.

“No one asked you to butt in, Sammy,” he warned.

Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “If I don’t, this won’t get resolved because you both are too hard-headed to make the first move. Y/N,” Your eyes darted over to him. “My idiot brother won’t say it but the reason he got upset is because he’s scared.”

Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Sam ignored him and continued, “He’s scared something is going to happen to you and he won’t be there to stop it. That’s why he freaked out that night. He’s not trying to tell you what to do or be a controlling jerk. He just wants you to be safe, that’s all.”

You bit your lip and turned your attention to Dean, who suddenly seemed very interested in the book in his lap. “Is that true?”

After a moment, he ground out, “Yeah. It’s true.”

You stood up, letting the book in your own lap fall to the ground with a heavy thud, and made your way over to Dean. You ripped the book out of his hands, tossed it to the floor, ignored Sam’s irritation at your carelessness with such old tomes, and crawled into Dean’s lap, his hands instantly coming around you to support you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”

He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question. “He didn’t. I killed my first vamp at 12, took out my first nest when I was 16. Hunting’s in my blood just as much as it is yours. I know what I’m doing.” You ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly, scratching at his scalp, and watched him lean into the touch. “But if you want, we can talk about it. We’ll come up with a plan that makes you feel better and works for both of us. Okay?”

He gave you a dopey smile that melted your heart. The magic touch had worked; the tension from before had finally lifted. “Okay, baby. Sounds good to me.”

You kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. “You know what else sounds good?” You murmured to his lips when you both needed a breath.

Those green eyes you loved so much immediately lit with an all-too familiar fire. “Do tell.”

You leaned in and whispered your plan into his ear, making sure Sam wouldn’t overhear. By the time you pulled back, he was grinning like crazy. Clearing his throat, he helped you off of his lap and back onto your feet as you both turned to face Sam, a mischievous smirk fighting its way onto your face. You knew that would get him going.

“Actually, I just remembered I left the…stove on in the kitchen. And Y/N here has to go call Jody to…give her an update on the case and how it’s going.”

Sam gave you both a look; he wasn’t buying it. You turned and gave the same look to Dean. He really hadn’t come up with anything better than that? “I hate you.”

“You have a weird way of showing that,” he teased, subtly rubbing up against you and smirking. This man was so lucky you loved him.

You shook your head and looked away, your cheeks growing hot. The bastard was turning you on even more and he knew it. It’d been almost two weeks, the longest you’d gone without since — well, since meeting him.

Sam was the one to clear his throat this time. “Whatever. Happy you both are talking to one another again. Now, go do what you’re going to do but just not in front of me, please. Okay? And you’re welcome.”

Dean shot Sam a look but he was too happy to care what Sam was intimating about his being the one who settled things between the two of you. He gave his younger brother a wide smile. “If you need us, we’ll be…” He trailed off, gesturing to the hallway that led to the rooms.

“Oh my God,” you muttered in embarrassment as you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you.

“Oh, hey!” Sam yelled. “Keep out of my room this time, Dean. I mean it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean called back.

You had just turned the corner when Dean immediately had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately and picking you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you pulled back for air, your brow furrowed in confusion at seeing Dean move past his door. “Dean,” you panted. “Where are you going? You just passed your room.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Okay, then where are you taking me?”

His smirk was so wicked you knew what the answer was before he said it. “Sammy’s room.”

“Dean, are you kidding me? No!”

“Relax, we won’t be in there long.”

“You know how upset he was last time and he just said—”

Dean came to a stop and kissed the crap out of you, effectively silencing you. You may have been a little dazed when he finally let you get some air. “He’s got the better bed and I want the very best for you, baby.” He then gave you a salacious smirk and leaned in. “Plus I know how much you love that headboard.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you as certain memories replayed in your mind. You were able to hold onto that headboard for a long time, it held you up well, and same for Dean…oh shit. Sorry, Sam.

“What are you waiting for?” You bit out impatiently, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his chuckle. As he walked you into Sam’s room, shutting and locking the door behind him, you made a mental note to later google the hell out of this headboard and find one for Dean’s bed.

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[sweetbans29]

Mistakes - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin was your world. When she decides you aren't hers she lets you go, leaving her with nothing but regrets and her facing the biggest mistake she has made on your biggest day.

Warnings: Angst - no happy ending

Word Count: 2.7k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: It has been a minute and I need pain.

THE BEGINNING.

Freshman year of college brought so much more than you could ever expect. The summer before your senior year of high school is when you committed to Iowa to play basketball. You weren't planning on heading East but after talking to Coach Bluder and Coach Jensen - it was a no-brainer. You were also excited to hear some of the other talent that was going into Iowa at the same time.

When you got to Iowa, it was everything you had wanted it to be. Iowa was beautiful. Getting to campus and getting to know the team had been great. Even your classes were going well. You were all around adjusting well to college.

It's during preseason training when you and Caitlin began to really connect. The two of you shared in being the only new freshman on the team. Your friendship really began to take off when you told her you weren't going home for Thanksgiving and she invited you home with her. It was the first time you met her family and they absolutely adored you.

Coming back from that break, you and Caitlin became inseparable. Anytime the two of you were on campus, you would be together. It got to the point where the team knew you were a two-for-one deal.

Your friendship off the court translated seamlessly on the court. The two of you had made some noise in the media as you shortly became a freshman powerhouse for Iowa consistently putting up a combined 40+ points per game. The chemistry you played with on the court was unmatched by anything that had been seen before so fast.

It is the end of your freshman year when your friendship with Caitlin begins to become more than a friendship.

The feelings that Caitlin begins to feel are all new to her. She hesitates when it comes to talking to you about it as the feelings she is feeling are for you. It is Kate Martin who actually encourages Caitlin to talk to you - this is after you had told Kate you were starting to feel something for your best friend too.

"Hey, can we talk?" Caitlin asks as she is helping you pack up to head home for the summer.

"Of course," you say as you are looking for any other items on your desk to stick in a box. Well less helping and more so keeping you company.

Caitlin is sitting on your bed, hands fidgeting. When she doesn't speak you stop what you're doing and look at her. She looks concerned.

"Caitlin, you're scaring me," you say with a little laugh as you come and stand at the end of your bed. Caitlin refuses to make eye contact with you.

You move to where she is, trying to get her to look at you. Your mind is racing at all the possibilities that could have Caitlin in such a distressed state.

"Is it your family?" You ask knowing how much they mean to her.

She shakes her head no, her eyes still locked on her hands as she rubs her fingertips.

"Cait, talk to me, please." You say as you are now standing right next to her. She only looks at you when you grab her hands to stop her fiddling. You have learned that her fiddling was one of her nervous ticks.

Before you have time to process, Caitlin's lips are on yours.

You had been imagining this for a little while now but never imagined it to actually come true. Your hands find their way to her hips as her hands find their way to your face. The kiss is hungry and filled with curiosity, longing, and need. Before things could go any further you slow the kiss down and begin to push Caitlin's hips away from yours.

You are standing in between Caitlin's legs and look down at the space you have created between the two of you. Both of you breathing heavily and processing what just happened.

"Why'd you do that?" You ask - your eyes now closed.

Caitlin's heart sinks when she hears your question. She is at a loss for words thinking she just messed up your whole friendship.

You bring your forehead up to hers, knowing how much she can get into her head - but now showing how much you get into her head.

"Why'd you do that, huh? Something I have been thinking about for weeks now," you say with a sigh. "Something I am going to want to do every day both of us are here on this earth. Something that only makes me want you even more." You say separating yourself from her - looking in her eyes for the first time.

Caitlin blushes, breaking the eye contact almost as fast as you initialed.

Your hand comes up to cup her cheek, bring her gaze back up to yours.

"I like you," Caitlin says. You expect her to continue but she does not.

You laugh.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" You ask. She shrugs shyly.

"Well, if it is not obvious, I like you too." You say and the blush in Caitlin's cheeks deepens.

The timing of it wasn't the best as you were heading back home for the summer and Caitlin was doing the same. The two of you talked and Facetimed every day of that summer. Before heading into the next school year - Caitlin asked to keep your relationship quiet and between the two of you. Your love for the girl overpowering your desire to love her openly and you respected her decision. You know it is for the best but still wish you could show her off as yours and not just your best friend.

There are a few people who know - Kate being one of them. But aside from her and one other teammate, your relationship stays hidden.

Even though it remained within the confines of you and Caitlin - it never stopped growing. It was soon something that became hard to hide as others started noticing your dynamics.

Whenever it was just the two of you, nothing in the world mattered. The two of you spent most of your time in your apartment where Caitlin would never leave your side. She would always need to have part of her body touching yours. That could be holding hands or touching thighs, she just liked being near you. Whenever she would spend the night, she would curl up at your side and spend the whole night in your arms.

The two of you would talk about everything and nothing and all that is in between. You would spend as much time as you could listening to her talk about the things that she loves. Granted most of it was basketball-related and the two of you would talk endlessly on the subject but she would also talk about her family and how she grew up. She captured your attention so easily and vice versa.

There was a deeper understanding between the two of you than either of you could have imagined. The two of you understood each other without words - that made the two of you unstoppable on the court but even more than that it was a testament of your love.

You wholeheartedly believed that Caitlin would be it for you.

THE MIDDLE.

It was nearing the end of your senior year at Iowa and what would be the close to your basketball playing days. It was something you were content with and actually had a job lined up to be one of the assistant coaches for UCLA's women's basketball program.

Caitlin declared for the draft and was set to be the first overall pick. You couldn't be more proud of your girl. It was pretty much set that she would be going to Indiana, which meant that you two would be doing long-distance. The two of you talked and it seemed like everything was going to work out.

Everything shifted when Iowa lost to South Carolina in the final. It was a tough loss that you thought you could have won. They just outplayed you and came out on top which was a bummer but you couldn't be too mad about it.

After the final, the team decided to head their separate ways for the night. You made your way to Caitlin's hotel room.

She hadn't said much since leaving the arena. When the two of you get back you collapse on the bed you let out a deep sigh. It is only after a few moments of you laying there and not feeling her weight hit the bed beside you that you turn your head to look for her.

Caitlin is standing, eyes heavy from the loss, looking down at you.

"Lay down love, I know you're exhausted," you say and pat the spot next to you.

When she doesn't move, you reach to grab her hand but she moves it away. You give her a questioning look.

"I can't do this," she says, fingers beginning to fiddle.

Your heart rate skyrockets.

"Caitlin, what are you talking about?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

She refuses to make eye contact with you as she finds the right words to say. This has been a thought on her mind for the past few weeks and has been an internal battle.

"I can't do us anymore," she says just above a whisper.

You feel like you had just been hit by a car and that is after feeling like you got hit by a bus from the game.

You immediately stand and try to bring her eyes to yours. Everything was going great between the two of you - you both had already talked about how it would work doing long-distance and even had trips planned to see one another.

"I don't understand," you say, hands coming up to hold your head. The room is spinning and you feel like you want to cry, laugh, pass out, and throw up all at the same time.

You two had been together for the past 3 years, weathering countless storms together and growing with one another. The one thing that stayed the same in all of that was keeping your relationship between a select group of people and never known to the public.

"Caitlin," you say, and your voice cracks.

"Please don't say my name," she says and her eyes close.

You are stunned.

"So that's it? We're done?" You ask in disbelief. Cait is preparing for you to blow up, to yell at her and question her but none of that comes.

You, on the other hand, are waiting for an explanation that never comes.

Her eyes stay closed and you stand there for what feels like ages waiting for any sort of explanation. When you realize there isn't one coming, you fall in defeat.

You reach around your neck and remove the necklace that she got you for your two-year anniversary and place it on the dresser.

"I have done nothing but love you," you say. It was directed to her but you were saying it more to yourself.

When you walk out the door, you both allow yourselves to feel. Caitlin finally opens her eyes and you let your tears fall.

There was absolutely no closure. No understanding of what had happened to get to this point. You have every desire to barge back into the room and fight for her but what was the point in fighting when she couldn't even give you a solid answer.

Never in a million years would you imagine a life without her.

THE END. 3 YEARS LATER.

Never in a million years would Caitlin imagine being here. Maybe she did, just not in these circumstances. She sat next to her brother and his wife waiting for the ceremony to start. Some of her old college teammates were in the row in front of her.

Her hands have not stopped fidgeting since she arrived and can't see them stopping anytime soon.

Everyone is asked to take their seats as your mom is escorted down and takes her seat.

One by one - bridesmaids make their way down the aisle. Caitlin smiles when she sees Kate walk down. People then begin to stand and turn to watch.

Your fiance is the first to walk down the aisle. She is escorted by her father and is beaming. Caitlin hears groups of ooo's and ahh's as she makes her way to the front and turns and waits for you.

You are the last to make your way down the aisle.

Caitlin gets a glimpse of you and her breath is taken away. You are stunning. Your smile is bright enough to light the entire city. She watches as you make your way towards your future.

She sits when everyone else does - eyes still glued to you.

Caitlin feels the air leaving her lungs as the ceremony commences. There was once a day when she saw this with you when the two of you talked about what your wedding day would look like and how you would want everything laid out. She looks around and sees you in all the little details.

After the ceremony, everyone heads to the reception. Caitlin not knowing how long she plans on staying considering how much of a toll this is taking on her.

It is good to see old teammates and catch up on life. She spends a lot of time talking with Kate until she is pulled away. Colin and his wife are on the dance floor which is not inviting to Caitlin at all.

It is soon after everyone starts dancing that Caitlin makes her way outside. The cool air of the night numbed her face. Her mind can't help but wander back to when the two of you were together and how everything made sense. Caitlin was blind to how much she needed you when she had you and was led by fear. Fear of what the world would say if they ever found out she loved girls. And instead of talking through it with anyone close to her - she ran. Ran from the one person she has ever truly loved.

She doesn't feel the first tear fall from her face nor does she feel the next one. She lets out a shakey breath.

"I'm glad you came," your voice brings her back to reality. Your eyes meet hers for the first time in years. "I didn't know if you would come or if I actually wanted you here."

Caitlin just takes the sight of you in. The last memory she had with you was when she called it quits and you walked out. She has replayed that night in her probably a million times and if she had asked you, you would have said the same.

"I have imagined this day countless times in my head - and for a long while, I thought you would play a very different role than the one you are in. It's funny how life changes."

"I was mad at you for the greater part of 2 years until Soph pulled me out of it. Never actually getting an answer on why that night ended the way it did. She has had to do a lot of damage control thanks to you," you say with a little laugh.

Caitlin looks away from you as her tears continue to fall.

Your hand comes up to her elbow.

"Caitlin, you know I will always care for you. Thank you for being here, it really does mean a lot," you say and bring one of your hands to wipe away her falling tears. "Even though in the end it wasn't us, your friendship was vital during that time in my life."

Your name is called by someone inside. You give her arm one last squeeze and make your way inside.

Caitlin looks back out into the darkness, even more broken than she was on the night she let you go. Letting you go was the single biggest mistake of her life. One that she has regretted ever since. One that she hoped to one day rectify.

A mistake that she can no longer take back and is one she will have to live with for the rest of her life.

AN: Just a little for you, let me know what you think. And as always, thank your for your love and support 🤍

[winchesterwild78]

A Shattered Heart

Master List

Jensen x Reader (girlfriend)

Warnings: Lots and lots of Angst, language, Jensen being a dick (sorry)

A/N: Just kinda in my head and feelings today…This story just popped in my head. Not sure if it’s going to be a one shot or a few chapters. I’ll play it by ear. I had to get this out before I could finish any of my other stories. 🫤 This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own and absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. No idea why my head is filled with this story…..it’s brutal. I wrote it fast-like 30 minutes, and didn’t do a great job editing. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The soft glow of the lamp cast long, dancing shadows across the room. Jensen and you had been dating for a few months now, and while there were moments of pure bliss, the weight of his recent divorce often hung heavy in the air. His ex-wife had been particularly cruel during the proceedings, leaving him emotionally scarred.

You’d tried to be there for him, but he would often push you away to deal with things himself. He tried to keep things civil between him and Danneel, for the sake of the kids, but it proved to be a daunting task at times. 

After months of back and forth, they finally arrived at a custody agreement. He would get the kids when he wasn’t filming, and for some holidays. She kept the house in Connecticut and he got the one in Austin. Danneel tried to get both, but the judge decided she had gotten enough from him. Between child support, alimony, half the brewery and half the production company, she was practically set for life.

You had absolutely no problem with the child support, but you felt it was ridiculous she received alimony too. Jensen didn’t put up a fight about that. You respected him so much, the only thing he did fight for was his children. 

After the divorce was final, you moved in with him, into his Austin home. He told you to make any changes you wanted, because as he put it, “It’s your home too.” So you made some changes here and there, but keeping all of the things that were Jensen and of course his children. 

Danneel barely spoke to you, and would often refer to you as a homewrecker, trash, or some other derogatory term she could think of. It pissed Jensen off, because the two of you met after they split up, and you didn’t move in until after the divorce was final. 

You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you, but it really did. You fell in love with Jensen when you saw him at a convention, but you didn’t pursue him until after you heard they had split. Well, you really didn’t pursue him, you two just hit it off and got to talking. You both flirted, alcohol was free flowing, and then you kissed. That was it. Days later, after the convention ended, Jensen reached out to you on social media. You thought it was a joke until he sent you a picture and then video called you. After that you were completely smitten by him.

So now here you were months later, living with him and falling deeper in love with him. You hoped he felt the same way about you. The only obstacle was his filming schedule. It was something you weren’t used to yet, and sometimes it caused tension between the two of you. 

As Jensen’s marriage started to fall apart he purposely spent more time away from home. He took guest starring roles, did more conventions, and even started some new projects. It became a habit that was hard for him to break.

So now even though your relationship was good, he had commitments he had already made. It’s been an adjustment to say the least. Jensen was off filming again, and you were left alone, again. Your heart ached for him, your arms ached for him. The longer he was gone the more in your head you would get, and that was never a good thing. 

After a month-long shooting schedule, Jensen returned home looking haggard and exhausted. you could see the toll it had taken on him. The two of you had spent the evening cuddling on the couch, with you trying to soothe his weary soul. You made his favorite dinner, steak and potatoes, and even baked him a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. 

“Thanks sweetheart for dinner and dessert. You didn’t have to go all out for me.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Yes I did, you’ve been gone for too long and I wanted to show you how much I missed you. Besides, who can say no to chocolate cake?” You winked at him. The two of you spent the rest of the night snuggled together under the blanket and talking while the tv played softly in the background. 

He told you about the latest project he was on, how he’d been called back to guest star in Tracker again. You could see his excitement, but part of you felt a pang of sadness, because that meant more time away from you. You bit your lip to prevent the tears from flowing. You were so proud of him and all his projects, but part of you wanted to be selfish and have him to yourself for a little bit.

Just as you were about to settle in for the night, his phone rang. It was Danneel. You could hear the anger in her voice as she berated him about his absence and how the alimony check was 2 days late. “Fuck, Danneel, it was only 2 damn days. You act like it’s the end of the world. Maybe if you got off your ass and worked it wouldn’t be that big of a deal! I was in Canada and the mail takes longer. Yes, it has to be a check. I want a paper trail to prove I paid it! Bullshit! You would throw me under the bus if you could. You’re just waiting to screw me over!” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. You sat in silence as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. “No! I already told you I’ll be filming. I can’t keep the kids for spring break. That’s not fair, Danneel. Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want!” He hung up with a growl. 

You stepped closer to him and touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort. He shrugged you off, “Not now, Y/N! Fuck!” You flinched at his anger and his words. He’d never spoken to you like that before. It took you by surprise and it hurt. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I was just trying to help.” Your voice came out softer and smaller than you’d ever heard. “Well don’t! You’re not a part of this, you can’t help! Unless you know how I can continue to work and see my kids, while supporting them, my ex and you!” You gasped at his words. “What?! You don’t support me? I work, I make my own money.” 

Jensen scoffed, “Yeah right. Your little paycheck, honey I make that in a fucking day!” Tears filled your eyes and you let out an audible sob. Jensen turned and looked at you as you cried. His eyes were full of rage, his jaw tight with anger. You had no idea why he was taking his anger out on you. 

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated growl. “Fuck this shit! I can’t handle my bitch ex wife and now you crying like you are. I’m going out!” He grabbed his jacket and keys and left. 

As he stormed out of the house, you crumbled onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. His words, his anger playing over and over in your head like a record. Each harsh word, like a punch to the chest. You felt incredibly hurt, so betrayed, and so utterly alone. 

You eventually moved off the floor, when the tears refused to fall anymore. Exhaustion overtaking your body, your head pounding from the crying. Hours passed as you laid on the couch, curled in a ball. You checked your phone, hoping for a text or a call from Jensen, but nothing. As the hours ticked on your heart broke more. 

Around 4 am you were startled awake by the sound of the front door opening. Jensen came in, drunk. You could smell the whiskey on him. You sat up and looked at him, “Jensen, do you have any idea what time it is?” You asked softly.

“Nope, don’t care either. Why are you still here? I figured you’d be gone by now.” Jensen asked through slurred speech. You bit your lip and swallowed hard, “You don’t mean that Jensen.” 

You stood up and walked over to him. He stepped closer to you, saw your red, puffy eyes, “Yes I do, darlin’. I thought I made it clear I don’t want you here anymore. It’s only complicating things with my kids.” 

You scoffed as the pain and hurt shot through your body, “Okay, I’ll leave. Just know you’re the one who asked for me to leave, Jensen. I love you.” You walked upstairs without looking back at him. The tears were flowing freely now. Your heart was shattered. You’d given him everything, including your heart, and he just threw it all away. 

Walking into your shared bedroom, you looked around at the life you two had created. You grabbed a suitcase and started filling it up with things. You glanced at Jensen’s side of the bed and saw the picture Chris took of the two of you at the convention you met him at. You saw the love in his eyes and in yours. 

As you left the bedroom you walked back downstairs and found Jensen sitting on the couch. He glanced up at you and saw the suitcase in your hand. You walked over to the kitchen counter, took your key off the ring and set it down. 

Before you walked out the door, you turned around and locked eyes with Jensen. “I love you Jensen, please don’t forget that. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you.” You swear his breath hitched at your words, but you turned so quickly you weren’t sure. 

You put your suitcase in your car and climbed in. Putting the car in drive you pulled out of the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror at the life you were now left to mourn. 

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[leclerc-s]

karma - part three

series masterlist // previous // next

liked by charles_leclerc, francesca.cgomes, kellypiquet and others

nataliaruiz congrats on p3 my love and congrats to sir lewis hamilton for p2. after a horrible austin grand prix you both deserve this. enjoy it.

tagged: charles_leclerc, lewishamilton

view all comments

maxverstappen1 max verstappen erasure!

nataliaruiz i have to deal with you for next few years, let them have this. charles_leclerc yeah max! you've won almost every race this season, let us have this! maxverstappen1 no ❤️ you've been dealing with me our entire lives. stop complaining. nataliaruiz i will never stop complaining

charles_leclerc oh mon amour, je t'aime

nataliaruiz je t'aime aussi bébé

user1 stop that text from lewis is so adorable.

user2 that text implies they talk frequently, especially if he's sending her silly texts like that user1 that's honestly so cute.

lewishamilton oh great, now seb's going to text me complaining.

nataliaruiz a simple thanks would've been great lewis! lewishamilton yes, thank you natalia. you're buying dinner to make up for it.

user3 she really said, i'm going to post ferrari the least amount i possibly can for these next four races.

user4 you can't make her man miserable and then expect her to still post them. liked by natalia ruiz

user5 maman et papa!!

user6 god they're so hot.

sukiwaterhouse i mean, i guess congratulations to him or whatever

charles_leclerc see, i knew you liked me. sukiwaterhouse i will never like the man who stole my wife. charles_leclerc WE'VE BEEN DATING SINCE BEFORE YOU MET?

alex_albon TELL LECLERC TO ANSWER THE PHONE!!

lando norris WE MUST HAVE ANSWERS!!

george russell LECLERC I SWEAR TO SEB IF YOU KEEP AVOIDING US.

charles leclerc i saw you today?

pierre gasly YOU'RE MOVING TO RED BULL?? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?? YOUR BEST FRIEND??

lando norris OR US?? THE TWITCH QUARTET???

max verstappen i knew

alex albon SHUT UP MAX! george russell SHUT UP MAX! lando norris SHUT UP MAX! pierre gasly SHUT UP MAX! max verstappen you guys are so mean.

charles leclerc how am i supposed to bring it up??

pierre gasly a simple "i'm moving to red bull" could've help start it off.

george russell "oh by the way, i'm not happy at ferrari, so i'm moving to red bull."

alex albon WHAT IS SEB DOING AT RED BULL??

lando norris are they replacing helmut with him? please tell me they are.

max verstappen oh this is great. can't wait until they all find out.

charles leclerc he's my new race engineer.

pierre gasly there is no hope left for us. he's going to have a 4x world champion in his ears. it's over.

max verstappen we could have a horrible car next season.

lando norris right, horrible and newey don't necessarily go well together.

george russell glad seb is back, not glad he's back with red bull.

alex albon you're telling me i can convince jensen to be my race engineer?

lando norris that'll probably work out better for logan than you. alex albon you're right.

did you call him an incompetent asshole?

i was angry max and he deserved it.

oh i'm not saying he didn't. i fully agree with you but i need to know so i can laugh.

don't act like you didn't laugh already.

i got in trouble by fernando for laughing during the press conference.

also, please don't call me a nepo-baby

but it's what you are, no?

i think i've hit a point in my career where i can be known as more than my dad's son, no?

oh you have, carlos not so much.

dinner?

max verstappen, are you asking me on a date? i'll have you know i have a boyfriend and you have a girlfriend!

no, you idiot. do you and charles want to have dinner? with me and kelly?

let me ask charles if he's up for it.

charles said yes.

great, i'll send you the address

nataliaruiz posted new stories

i love her 😍

oh hey 🤗

💞

nataliaruiz and charles_leclerc posted new stories

oh wow, that's my date??

plus belle fille (most beautiful girl)

nataliaruiz and charles_leclerc posted new stories

natalia_leclerc posted a new story

cutie patootie is on pole position.

P2 BABY! P2!

oh, thoughts are being thunk.

taglist: @janeholt3 @vroomvroommuppett @charlesgirl16 @someoneintheworld @iconicbookstore @evans-dejong @minmira95 @leanneg97 @asparklysoul @d3kstar @lollie0024 @magical-spit @gemnetjournal @rockyhayzkid @weekendlusting @ironspdy @namgification @moonyzsworld @Fall-bambi @emilyval1 @lorenakaspersen @spilled-coffee-cup @butterfly-lover @blushmimi

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¡leclerc-s speaks! a dedication should go out to @astonmartinii who has a story similar to this one. as i said yesterday, it was not my intention to make this seem so similar to someone else's work. once again, my biggest enemy is grammar mistakes i don't notice until it's too late. oh well, as the french say soo la voo (please tell me someone gets that joke) most of this was written last night or at 2 am.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 11/?✨

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: Language, age gap, some slightly spicy scenes

Word Count: 6296

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

As you hung up the phone, the ache of missing him was still there, but it was overshadowed by the hope and reassurance his words had brought. You knew that the next two months would be a test, but one you were ready to face together.

After spending over three hours cleaning your apartment to distract yourself, you finally collapsed into bed, utterly exhausted. Sleep claimed you within seconds, and you missed the message Jensen sent just minutes after you drifted off.

Meanwhile, Jensen arrived at his house in Connecticut. Stepping out of the cab, he took a deep breath, feeling a flood of emotions. The surroundings brought anxiety as he mentally prepared for what awaited him inside.

Entering through the front door, he was greeted by the lively sounds of his children still awake. JJ spotted him first and ran towards him with a wide grin, exclaiming, “Daddy!”. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, her excitement palpable.

Jensen’s heart warmed as he bent down to scoop her up into a warm hug. “Hey, sweetheart”, he said softly, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I missed you”.

Arrow and Zeppelin hung back a bit, their expressions more reserved. They had always been closer to their mother, especially since they noticed the special bond between Jensen and JJ. Sensing their hesitation, Jensen extended his hand towards them with a welcoming smile.

“Come here, you two”, he encouraged gently. “I missed you guys too”.

After a moment’s hesitation, Arrow cautiously stepped forward, followed by Zeppelin. They approached him tentatively, and Jensen knelt down to their level, JJ still holding onto his side. He tousled Zeppelin’s hair affectionately and gave Arrow a reassuring pat on the back.

“How have my little ones been?”, he asked warmly, trying to bridge the gap between them.

“We’ve been good”, Zeppelin replied softly, looking up at his father with a small smile. “Mom made us pancakes for dinner”.

Jensen chuckled softly. “Pancakes for dinner? That sounds delicious”.

Just then, Danneel stepped into the room, her arms crossed and a stern expression on her face. Jensen’s jaw clenched slightly as he braced himself for her reaction. She had just hung up a call, and her frustration was evident.

“You should have called me”, Danneel said tersely, her voice tinged with irritation. “Letting me know you’re on your way from the airport”.

Jensen sighed inwardly, knowing this was a conversation they often circled back to. “I’m sorry”, he replied evenly, trying to keep his tone neutral. “It was a long flight, and I wanted to get home to see the kids”.

Danneel’s expression softened slightly, but her frustration lingered. “It’s not just about that, Jensen”, she said, her voice lowering to a more subdued tone. “Communication is important. We talked about this”.

Jensen felt the weight of Danneel’s words, knowing all too well the underlying tensions in their strained marriage. They had grown apart over the years, the love they once shared now replaced by a mutual understanding of their roles. Danneel, focused on maintaining their image and the financial stability Jensen provided, often ignored the emotional disconnect between them.

“Yeah, communication”, Jensen muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with frustration as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I know”.

Danneel’s lips tightened into a thin line, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Jensen’s jaw clenched again, his gaze hardening as he met her eyes. They had danced around this conversation too many times, neither willing to confront the reality of their failing marriage head-on. He knew Danneel’s priorities lay elsewhere, and their interactions had become strained, devoid of the warmth and affection they once shared.

“We have responsibilities”, she stated firmly, her voice steady despite the tension between them. “And I intend to uphold mine”.

Jensen sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I know”, he murmured.

Without another word, he pulled off his jacket and hung it up, then grabbed his bag, turning towards the stairs. Danneel watched him with narrowed eyes, her arms still crossed.

“Where are you going?”, she asked sharply.

“Unpacking”, Jensen grumbled, not bothering to look back at her as he started up the stairs.

But Danneel wasn’t having it. She followed him, her footsteps echoing in the quiet house. “We’re not done talking”, she insisted, her voice filled with frustration.

“There’s nothing more to say, Danneel”, he replied, trying to keep his tone even. “We’ve had this conversation too many times”.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Jensen turned towards his room. Even in the new house, he had insisted on having his own space, much like the setup they had in Austin. The strain in their marriage had grown too great for him to share a bed with her anymore.

Danneel followed him into his room, her frustration clear in her eyes. “You can’t just walk away every time things get tough”, she said, her voice trembling slightly with anger. “We need to deal with this”.

Jensen dropped his bag onto the floor and turned to face her, his own anger simmering beneath the surface. “Deal with what, Danneel? The fact that we’re living a lie? That we’re pretending everything’s fine for the sake of appearances?”.

Danneel’s face hardened, her eyes flashing with defiance. “We have responsibilities, Jensen. To our family, to our image. You can’t just run away from that”.

“I’m not running away”, Jensen shot back, his voice rising. “I’m facing reality. Our marriage is over, Danneel. It’s been over for a long time. We’re just going through the motions”.

Her silence was heavy, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of their words hanging in the air.

“You’re right”, she finally said, her voice low and bitter. “But that doesn’t mean we can just give up. We have to keep up appearances, for the kids, for everything we’ve built”.

Jensen ran a hand through his hair, feeling the exhaustion of their ongoing battle. “I’m tired, Danneel. Tired of pretending. Tired of living a lie”.

“And what do you propose?”, she asked, her tone icy. “Just throw it all away?”.

“I don’t know”, Jensen admitted, his voice softening. “But we can’t keep going on like this”.

Jensen began to sort his clothes out of his bag, throwing his phone onto the bed and starting to undress, not bothering that Danneel was still in the room. He was too exhausted to care about propriety at this point.

Danneel’s eyes flashed with anger as she watched him. “I told you before, Jensen”, she snapped, her voice sharp and cutting. “There’s no way you’re going to make me the poor, stupid ex-wife who was left”.

Jensen paused, his shirt halfway off, and looked at her, frustration evident in his eyes. “This isn’t about making you look bad, Danneel. It’s about being honest about what we’ve become”.

As he pulled off his shirt completely, Danneel’s gaze zeroed in on his back. The faint, red marks—cuts that had to heal—caught her attention.

“What the hell are those?”, she demanded, her voice trembling with fury.

Jensen turned to follow her gaze, his confusion quickly turning to realization as he remembered the intensity of his time with you. “It’s nothing”, he said defensively, quickly turning back to his bag.

“Nothing?”, Danneel scoffed, taking a step closer. “Those look like scratch marks, Jensen. Who did that?”.

Jensen’s jaw clenched, and he threw the shirt he was holding onto the bed. “It’s none of your business”, he said coldly.

Danneel’s face hardened, her anger boiling over. “It is my business when you come home with marks like that“.

Jensen took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check. “You seem to forget that you were the one who had an affair first”, he reminded her, his voice steady but laced with bitterness. “Years ago. And we agreed not to talk about who we’re seeing. We both know this marriage has been over for a long time”.

Danneel’s eyes flashed with indignation. “That was different, Jensen. You didn’t seem to care then, and you certainly never showed up with marks like that”.

“Different?”, Jensen scoffed. “We’ve both had our affairs, Danneel. You set the precedent, and I followed. But I never flaunted it because I respected our arrangement. Until now, I haven’t seen anyone for months”.

Danneel’s expression shifted from anger to something resembling hurt. “You didn’t have to make it so obvious”, she said quietly.

Jensen sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t trying to make anything obvious. It just happened”.

“Who is she?”, Danneel asked, her voice softer but still edged with tension.

Jensen shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we both know where we stand”.

Danneel’s expression hardened again, a sharp edge returning to her voice. “Your new bitch better keep her mouth shut for her own sake”, she snapped, her eyes flashing with anger.

Jensen felt his own temper flare. “Don’t you dare call her that”, he said through gritted teeth. “She’s got nothing to do with this mess we’ve made. This is between you and me”.

“Well, then she better stay out of it”, Danneel retorted. “I won’t have my life turned upside down because of your midlife crisis”.

Jensen took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “This isn’t a midlife crisis, Danneel. This is me finally admitting that I can’t live like this anymore. We can’t keep pretending”.

Danneel crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her posture defensive. “Don´t expect me to roll over and play nice just because you decided to grow a conscience”.

Jensen waved her off, looking more than annoyed. He turned his back to her and grabbed a fresh shirt from his bag, dressing in something more comfortable. His movements were tense, filled with frustration.

“I’m so done with all this shit”, he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible but dripping with anger. “I can’t even stand to see your fucking face anymore”.

Danneel’s eyes narrowed, her anger flaring again at his words. “Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual”, she snapped back.

Jensen’s eyes were still burning with frustration as he pulled on his fresh shirt. He didn’t even bother to look at Danneel, who was standing there with her arms crossed, her own face flushed with anger. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Just then, the door creaked open, and JJ stepped inside, holding up a board game. Her bright eyes were filled with hope and excitement, completely unaware of the storm brewing between her parents. “Can we play this game?”, she asked, her voice innocent and eager.

Jensen and Danneel both turned to look at their daughter, their anger momentarily eclipsed by the sight of her. Jensen felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. He forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside. “Sure", he said, his voice gentler. “Which game did you pick?”.

JJ’s face lit up with a huge smile as she held up the game box. “Monopoly!”, she announced, her enthusiasm contagious.

Danneel took a deep breath, smoothing her expression into something resembling calm. “Of course, JJ”, she said, stepping closer and placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Let’s go set it up in the living room”.

JJ beamed, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension between her parents. “Yay! It’s going to be so much fun!”.

As they followed JJ out of the room, Jensen and Danneel exchanged a brief, weary glance. The facade of normalcy had to be maintained, at least for their daughter’s sake. They knew they had to put their differences aside, if only for a little while, to give her the sense of family she deserved.

As JJ eagerly set up the board game with Arrow and Zeppelin, Jensen slipped into the kitchen. He reached for a bottle of whiskey, knowing it was the only way he’d get through the long game ahead. Pouring a generous amount into a mug, he took a deep breath and braced himself for the evening.

With his mug in hand, Jensen settled at the table, watching his kids as they prepared for the game. He pulled out his phone, the urge to connect with you too strong to resist. Quickly, he typed out a message: “I wish I was still lying with you in your bed. Missing you”.

Unbeknownst to him, you were already asleep, the exhaustion of the day having taken its toll. Sighing deeply, Jensen put his phone away and focused on the scene before him. JJ was distributing the Monopoly money with great enthusiasm, her excitement infectious despite the underlying tension.

Danneel, never one to miss a chance to uphold their facade, snapped a picture of the five of them around the game. “Everyone smile”, she instructed, her voice strained as she tried to maintain a cheerful tone.

Jensen forced a smile, his jaw clenched as he looked at the camera. “Fucking smile, Jensen!”, Danneel hissed under her breath, her eyes narrowing at him.

He plastered on a wider grin, feeling the bitterness rise within him. The camera clicked, capturing the image of a seemingly happy family for Danneel’s Instagram followers. The picture was a stark contrast to the reality of their strained relationship.

With the obligatory photo out of the way, JJ handed out the last of the Monopoly money and took her place at the table. “Okay, who’s going to be the banker?”, she asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

“I’ll do it”, Jensen volunteered, wanting to distract himself from his thoughts. “Nothing different from my real role here”, he muttered under his breath and Danneel shot him a sharp glance.

“Just play the game, Jensen”, she said tersely, her voice barely concealing her irritation.

Jensen forced another smile, taking the stack of Monopoly money and organizing it. “Alright, let’s get this started”, he said, trying to infuse some enthusiasm into his voice for the kids’ sake.

The game began, and for a while, the room was filled with the sounds of dice rolling, money changing hands, and playful banter between the children. JJ, Arrow, and Zeppelin were completely engrossed in the game, their laughter and excitement a temporary balm for the underlying tension between their parents.

Jensen took a sip from his whiskey mug, feeling the warmth spread through him. It helped to dull the edges of his frustration, allowing him to focus more on the game and less on the strained dynamics with Danneel.

As the game progressed, JJ landed on one of Jensen’s properties and groaned dramatically. “Dad, you’re making me go bankrupt!”, she exclaimed, her eyes wide with mock horror.

Jensen chuckled, enjoying the moment of levity. “That’s the game, sweetheart. You’ll get me back next time”.

Danneel, despite the tension, managed to keep up her role, interacting with the kids and playing her part in the game. For a brief moment, the room felt almost normal, like the family they used to be.

Hours passed, and the game finally drew to a close. Arrow and Zeppelin yawned, their energy waning as the evening wore on.

“Alright, time for bed”, Jensen said gently, gathering up the game pieces. “We’ll play again another time”.

The kids groaned in unison but complied, shuffling off to their rooms with tired smiles. Jensen and Danneel tidied up the living room in silence, the earlier tensions resurfacing as the facade of family game night faded away.

Once the kids were settled, Jensen returned to his room, the weight of the evening pressing down on him. He checked his phone again, seeing no response from you. With a heavy heart, he lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Jensen lay awake for about an hour, thoughts of you swirling incessantly through his mind. The weight of recent events and his complicated emotions had kept sleep at bay, leaving him restless and contemplative. As he stared at the ceiling in the dimly lit room, the soft creak of the door pulled him from his reverie.

JJ stood hesitantly in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the faint light filtering in from the hallway. It had been a while since she struggled to sleep, and tonight, her restlessness had brought her to her father’s door. She peered into the room, uncertainty etched on her face, before softly asking, “Daddy? Are you awake?”.

Startled from his thoughts, Jensen turned to see JJ standing there, her presence both comforting and unexpected. Despite his own inner turmoil, he managed a warm smile for her. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m awake”, he replied softly, his voice carrying reassurance.

JJ hesitated for a moment longer, then shuffled closer to the bed, her small figure moving with caution. Jensen could see the unease in her eyes, and he silently beckoned her to come closer. “Come here”, he said gently, patting the space beside him on the bed.

JJ tiptoed across the room and climbed onto the bed, curling up next to her father. She nestled into his side, seeking comfort in his familiar presence. Jensen wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close as they lay together in the quiet of the room.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”, Jensen asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

JJ sighed. “I don’t know, Daddy”, she murmured. “Sometimes I get scared at night, and I can’t sleep”.

Jensen tightened his embrace, offering her silent support. "It's okay to feel scared", he reassured her. "Everyone feels that way sometimes".

"I know", JJ whispered, her voice barely audible. "But it helps when you're here".

Jensen pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling a swell of love and protectiveness for his daughter. "I'll always be here for you, JJ", he promised quietly. "You can come to me anytime you need".

JJ nestled closer, drawing comfort from his steady presence. For a few moments, they lay in silence, the gentle rise and fall of their breathing creating a calming rhythm. The stillness of the room wrapped around them like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension that had gripped Jensen’s mind.

“What do you think about when you can’t sleep, Daddy?”, JJ asked after a while, her curiosity breaking the silence.

Jensen smiled softly, though it was tinged with a hint of sadness. “I think about a lot of things, sweetheart. About work, about making sure everyone is happy and safe”.

JJ looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. “Do you think about happy things too?”.

Jensen nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I do. I think about the times we spend together, like playing games or going on trips. I think about the people who make me happy”.

JJ’s face brightened a little. “Like Mommy?”.

Jensen hesitated, his smile faltering briefly. “Yes, like Mommy”, he said, his voice steady. “And also my friends, and you, of course”.

JJ seemed satisfied with his answer and settled back down against him. “I think about you too, Daddy. When I get scared, I think about you and it makes me feel better”.

Jensen felt a lump form in his throat, touched by his daughter’s words. “I’m glad, JJ. That’s what dads are for, to help make the scary things less scary”.

They lay together in the quiet room, Jensen’s mind gradually calming as he focused on the simple, pure connection with his daughter.

As JJ’s breathing evened out, indicating she had finally drifted off to sleep, Jensen closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax.

The next morning, when Jensen woke up, he immediately noticed that JJ was already gone. The space beside him was empty and the room was filled with the early morning light filtering through the curtains. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his phone on the nightstand, feeling the familiar weight of sleep still clinging to him.

As he blinked at the screen, a message notification caught his eye. It was from you. His heart quickened as he read your words: “I definitely didn’t sleep as well as I did in your arms yesterday”.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, warmth spreading through him at the thought of you.

He quickly typed a response: ”Same here. Any plans for today?“.

Setting his phone aside, Jensen got out of bed and dressed for the day, feeling a bit more positive after reading your message. As he made his way downstairs, he was greeted by the sounds of his children laughing and playing.

In the kitchen, JJ, Arrow, and Zeppelin were already eating breakfast. Danneel was there too, her expression neutral but calm. She glanced up as Jensen entered, a brief nod serving as their morning greeting.

“Morning, Daddy!”, JJ called out, her face lighting up with a smile. “We’re having pancakes!”.

Jensen smiled back, the sight of his children bringing a sense of normalcy. “Morning, everyone. Pancakes sound great”.

As Jensen ate breakfast with his family, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He discreetly checked it under the table and saw your reply: “Just need to get groceries and probably hitting the gym”.

He bit his tongue, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he typed out his response: “How much time do you actually spend at the gym? Because your ass says a lot”.

Jensen hit send, chuckling quietly to himself. He looked up to see JJ watching him with a curious expression. “What’s so funny, Daddy?”, she asked, her eyes wide with interest.

“Just a silly joke”, Jensen replied, ruffling her hair.

JJ giggled, accepting his explanation as she turned back to her pancakes. Jensen felt another buzz from his phone and glanced down to see your response: “Glad you noticed! I spend what feels like half my life there, lol”.

“Trust me, it’s hard not to notice”, he typed back. After a brief hesitation, he added, “Can’t wait to see that ass in person again“.

As you read Jensen’s message, a playful smirk formed on your lips. His boldness was both thrilling and enticing, bringing back vivid memories of the passionate night you shared together.

“Careful now, Mr. Ackles”, you replied.

Jensen’s phone buzzed with your message, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He quickly typed back, “We both know you don’t want me to be careful“.

Your heart skipped a beat at his boldness, your cheeks flushing even more. “Is that so? What makes you so sure?”, you replied, playing along.

Jensen’s grin widened as he recalled the night you shared. “Oh, I seem to remember you begging me to go harder… several times”, he typed.

You bit your lip, remembering just how intense and incredible that night had been. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you could keep up”, you teased back.

Jensen’s phone buzzed again, and he couldn’t suppress the smirk forming on his lips. He quickly typed back, “Oh, I just know you’re still sore because of me. Am I right?”.

Your breath hitched as you read his message. He was right; you were still feeling the delicious ache from his attentions. But you couldn’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Maybe just a little”, you replied coyly.

“Just a little? I must be losing my touch”, he typed, his fingers moving quickly over the screen.

You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Oh, you haven’t lost a thing. Trust me. My body is still recovering”, you responded.

Jensen felt a surge of satisfaction at your words. “Good to know. Next time, I’ll make sure you can’t walk straight for days”.

You blushed deeply, the anticipation building within you. “Promises, promises”, you replied. “You better be ready to back them up”.

“Oh, I am”, Jensen texted confidently. “And I can’t wait to remind you just how good I am at keeping my promises”.

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Then hurry up and clear your schedule, Mr. Ackles. I’m counting the days”.

Jensen smiled, feeling a renewed sense of excitement and determination. “I’m on it. See you soon”.

Jensen set his phone aside, still smiling from the playful exchange with you. As he turned his attention back to his surroundings, he noticed Danneel eying him from the side. Her expression was unreadable, but she didn’t say anything, choosing instead to focus on her own tasks.

The rest of the day, Jensen spent for himself, finding a quiet corner in the house to dive into his work. He picked up the script for “The Boys” Season 5, immersing himself in the world of his character. It was a welcome distraction, giving him something productive to focus on amid the emotional turbulence of his personal life.

Occasionally, his thoughts drifted back to you. He found himself reading the same line of the script more than once.

As evening came, the house grew quiet. The kids were asleep, and Danneel had gone out with friends. Jensen found himself with some rare, uninterrupted time. He decided to take advantage of it. Putting in his AirPods, he settled into a comfortable chair and opened his phone, navigating to your contact. He hesitated for a moment, hoping you’d still be awake, before initiating a video call.

The call connected, and after a few rings, your face appeared on the screen, framed by the soft light of your room. The sight of you brought an immediate smile to Jensen’s face.

“Hey”, you greeted warmly, your eyes lighting up at the sight of him. “I wasn’t expecting a call this late”.

“Hey”, Jensen replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. “I just needed to see you. It’s been a long day”.

You settled back, getting more comfortable as you adjusted your phone. “I’m glad you called. How are things on your end?”.

Jensen sighed, the weight of the day briefly evident in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words.

Before he could answer, you spoke softly, your concern evident. “Is it about your wife?”.

Jensen looked at you, appreciating your understanding and concern. “Yeah”, he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the twinge of jealousy that bubbled up despite Jensen’s reassurances about his marriage. He had been clear that there was no love between him and his wife, and they maintained a facade for appearances. Yet, seeing him burdened by the complexities of his family life stirred conflicting emotions within you.

“I understand”, you replied softly, your voice tinged with empathy. “It must be really hard”.

Jensen nodded, his eyes reflecting gratitude for your understanding. “It is”, he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his responsibilities. “I wish it were different”.

You sighed softly, feeling a mix of emotions as you looked at Jensen. “I just want to cheer you up”, you said gently. “What can I do?”.

Jensen’s eyes softened at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Just talking to you helps”, he admitted. “But honestly, hearing about your day, your life—it distracts me from all this”.

You nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Well, let’s see”, you began, settling into a more comfortable position. “Today was pretty uneventful, but I did have a funny moment at the gym”.

Jensen leaned in, his interest piqued. “Oh? Do tell”.

You chuckled softly, recalling the moment. “So, I was in the shower after my workout, just minding my own business”, you began, “and I slipped on some soap. Now I’ve got this huge bruise down my rib”.

Jensen’s mouth dropped open, his eyes wide with concern. “That’s not fucking funny”, he said, shaking his head. “Are you okay? That sounds really painful”.

You nodded, trying to downplay it. “Yeah, it was more embarrassing than anything. I mean, it hurts, but I’ll be fine. Just a reminder to be more careful”.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Do you want to see it?”, you asked playfully, teasing a bit to shift his concern to something lighter.

Jensen’s eyes widened further, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re offering to show me your bruise? How could I say no?”, he replied, his tone a mix of amusement and curiosity.

You adjusted your camera and lifted your shirt slightly to reveal the dark bruise on your rib. “See? Not so bad”, you said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though the bruise looked quite painful.

Jensen winced in sympathy. “Ouch. That does look pretty bad”, he said softly. “I hope it heals quickly”.

“It will”, you assured him. “I’ve had worse". But the bruise really was huge, covering nearly your whole ribcage.

“How can someone fall this bad in a stupid shower and end up with such a huge bruise?”, he asked, shaking his head in amazement.

“That’s me for you”, you said with a light-hearted shrug. “I manage to turn the most mundane activities into a catastrophe”.

Jensen smiled, though the worry in his eyes hadn’t completely faded. “You’ve got to be more careful. I don’t want you getting hurt”.

You nodded, appreciating his concern. “I will“.

Jensen’s grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about you lift your shirt a bit more?”, he asked teasingly.

You laughed, rolling your eyes at his cheeky request. “Oh, really? Is that how it’s going to be?”, you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a little bit”, he said, his tone light and mischievous. “I need to make sure you didn’t hurt anything else”.

You shook your head, but couldn’t help but smile at his playful demeanor. “Alright, but just a bit”, you said.

As you lifted your shirt a little higher, revealing the swell of your breasts, Jensen’s eyes darkened with desire. He noticed you weren’t wearing a bra, and the sight teased him even more. His breath hitched slightly, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure.

“Maybe a bit more”, he mumbled huskily, his voice low and filled with longing.

You could see the effect you had on him, and it sent a thrill through you. You bit your lip, considering his request. “Just a little more?”, you teased, enjoying the way his gaze lingered on you.

“Please”, he whispered, his eyes locked on yours, filled with anticipation.

Slowly, you inched your shirt up a little higher, stopping just before your nipples could show. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with anticipation.

“A little more”, he urged softly, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel your pulse quicken at his request, the playful teasing giving way to a more intimate desire. “Just a bit?”, you asked, your own voice barely above a whisper, wanting to prolong the moment.

“Just a bit”, he confirmed, his eyes dark with longing.

With a deep breath, you lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the peaks of your nipples, feeling the thrill of baring yourself to him, even through the screen.

Jensen’s reaction was immediate—his eyes widened, and he let out a low groan of appreciation as his gaze drank in the sight of you. He could feel his dick stiffen in his sweatpants just from the sight of your skin. The intensity of his desire for you was almost overwhelming.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me”, he murmured, his voice rough with need, his eyes never leaving your exposed skin.

You felt a thrill at his words, the power you had over him making you feel bold and desired. “Maybe I do”, you teased, your voice soft and sultry.

Jensen shifted slightly, his arousal evident as he adjusted himself to get more comfortable. “Fuck, you’re perfect”, he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

"I think you need to touch yourself for me”, he added, his tone husky.

Your breath hitched at his words. Slowly, you let your fingers glide up your torso, feeling the heat of your skin as you moved closer to your breasts. Your eyes remained locked on Jensen’s, his gaze dark and hungry.

Gently, you teased the peaks of your nipples, feeling the sensation ripple through you. “Like this?”, you asked softly, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Jensen groaned, his eyes never leaving your movements. “Yes, just like that”, he murmured.

As he shifted slightly to adjust his erection, his eyes dark and filled with desire, you slowly pulled your shirt back down, a teasing grin spreading across your face.

“Fucking tease”, Jensen muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and amusement.

You chuckled softly, enjoying the power you had over him. “Maybe I am”, you replied, your voice playful. “But I think you like it”.

Jensen’s smile broadened, and he shook his head slightly. “You have no idea”, he said, his voice low and filled with longing. “But now you’ve left me wanting more”.

Jensen continued to stroke his dick, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity in his gaze made your heart race, a mixture of power and desire coursing through you.

“You think it’s funny to leave me like this?”, Jensen asked, his voice rough with a mixture of amusement and frustration.

You grinned, enjoying the playful tension between you. “Maybe”, you teased, your voice soft and seductive. “But I think you can handle it”.

“Oh, I can handle it”, he said, his eyes dark with promise. “But you’re going to pay for this next time we’re together”.

You yawned tiredly, feeling the exhaustion from the day catching up with you. Despite the playful tension, you couldn’t suppress another yawn. “I’m sure counting on it”, you replied, your voice soft and teasing but laced with fatigue.

Jensen chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate. “You look like you need to get some sleep”, he said, his tone gentle. “We can continue this another time”.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his concern. “Yeah, I think I do”, you admitted. “But I’ll be dreaming about what you’re going to do to me”.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled with a mix of affection and desire. “Sweet dreams, then”, he murmured.

You ended the call, feeling a sense of contentment despite the longing. Taking a deep breath, you turned around in bed, your head sinking into the pillow that still carried Jensen’s faint scent.

Meanwhile, on Jensen’s end, he sat back in his chair, the air thick with desire and frustration. His erection throbbed beneath his sweatpants, a reminder of the arousal you had stoked in him. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily as he tried to calm his racing thoughts.

Sleep seemed out of the question now, his mind consumed with images of you, your voice still echoing in his ears. He contemplated calling you back, but he knew it was late and you needed rest. Instead, he leaned back, closing his eyes and letting his hand slip beneath his waistband once more, giving in to the overwhelming need to relieve the tension you had ignited in him.

He closed his eyes, letting his imagination take over. He pictured you lying in bed, your fingers teasing your nipples as you had done during the call, your soft moans filling his ears. The memory of your playful teasing and the sight of your body fueled his arousal, each stroke bringing him closer to the edge.

His hand moved with a deliberate rhythm, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He imagined the feel of your skin against his, the heat of your body as you pressed against him. His breaths came faster, each one a ragged gasp as he lost himself in the fantasy.

Jensen's mind conjured images of you beneath him, your body arching with need, your lips parting in a breathless moan as he touched you. He could almost feel the softness of your skin, the way you would respond to his every touch, the way your body would tremble as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy.

His strokes became more urgent, his body tensing with the building pleasure. He imagined the moment he would finally be inside you, the heat and tightness enveloping him as he thrust deeper, your moans growing louder with each movement. The thought of your pleasure, the look of ecstasy on your face, pushed him closer to his release.

With a final, shuddering breath, Jensen's body tensed, and he let out a low groan as he climaxed, the pleasure washing over him in waves. His hand moved slowly, milking every last drop of pleasure as he rode out his orgasm. The tension that had gripped him finally began to ease, leaving him breathless and spent.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 12

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[vibingpyro]

Hot Damn

A simple bet is how your night started.

A simple, yet incredibly irritating bet. Hobie's best mate, Jensen, had opened his fat mouth, likely running on more than enough liquid courage then the amount both Hobie and you had drank in the few hours you've been at the bar.

"I'd bet that you two love birds can't manage to not touch each other by midnight." Jensen bets, his open beer nearly sloushes over the table as he gestures to Hobie's arm drapped over your shoulder, you roll your eyes but you can just feel Hobie's gears moving in his head at the taunt from Jensen.

"Oh? And what are you betting?" Hobie hums, eyeing Jensen over the rim of his own drink, quirking an intrigued eyebrow at his best friend, rubbing his hand up and down soothingly where it rests on your upper arm. Jensen shrugs, before his eyes brighten, likely with an not so good idea you presume. "How about this, you guys don't touch each other until midnight and I'll shut up whenever you tell me to, and I'll even throw in a six pack." He throws in, and you see Hobie look down at you in silent question 'what do you say?' Hobies eyes communicate.

It isn't necessary an...awful idea as you expected it to be, so you nod in agreement. "Deal." You say, taking an swig of your own drink as Hobie retracts his arm from your shoulders with one last lingering touch before placing it on the table as Jensen smiles cheekily.

How hard could it be, right?

Apparently it's about as hard as walking an straight line when you're pissed drunk.

You stew in your irritation, occupying yourself at peeling away the already ripped leather of the booth seat you're sitting on, flickering your gaze to watch Jensen and Hobie playing pool across the room. You think you're the only one suffering from the no touching bet, until you notice the small longing glances Hobie sends you way whenever Jensen turns to line up his pool cue, his eyes lingering on your form as his lips frown in an sympathetic gesture.

You sigh quietly, stopping your picking distraction of the poor leather seat to take another swig of your drink, nearly choking when you hear an familiar voice call out to you, "Hey! I didn't know you came here. What a coincidence." The voice laughs and you turn in your seat, eyes widening in confirmation. It's Jeremiah, your most recent ex. Walking right up to your table.

You clear your throat as you muster an tight fake smile, absolutely caught off guard from seeing Jeremiah after months of not running into him, debating if it were truly an coincidence.

"Jeremiah! What a...pleasure, I didn't expect to see you here either." You laugh, although it's tinged with nervousness as you push down the disbelief you're feeling. You glance over at Hobie, expecting him to be unbothered playing with Jensen still, freezing up slightly when you're met with Hobie's unimpressed pointed look at Jeremiah, looking him up and down, before his gaze meets yours, with an much softer look although it's still cautious.

You nod, reassuring Hobie from across the room that you've got this. Hobies shoulders lose a bit of their tension, his grip on his own pool cue loosening as he nods back, giving his own reassuring small smile before turning his back to return to playing with Jensen. Hobie knows you can fight your own battles although that doesn't stop him from glancing at you out of the corner of his eye every now and then.

Jeremiah settles himself across the booth from you, his eyes taking you in as If it's the last time he would ever see you. "Well, you certainly have changed, haven't you?" He hums, leaning his hand on the table top. You give an small shrug, "Yeah, that's kinda what happens when you don't see each other for months." You murmur, looking at Jeremiah with unimpressed eyes. Your split with him wasn't necessarily messy or emotional, he just claimed to have lost feelings and you both parted your own ways.

Jeremiah chuckles a hint bashfully, "I suppose you have a good point." He smiles slightly, his eyes drifting down to where your hand rests on the tabletop, his hand beginning to move not so subtly towards yours.

"I was thinking we could-" Jeremiah is cut off by an quick flash of color, an arm placed right between Jeremiah's hand trying to meet yours, slamming against the table "So sorry." Hobie's unapologetic voice says, his hand pulling back with one of his many rings in the palm. "Forgot my ring." He smiles unrepentantly although the smile doesn't reach his eyes as he places the ring back on his index finger. You're sure there weren't any of his rings on the table when he left..

"Oh dear, don't tell me I'm interrupting." Hobie says as he slides into the booth seat beside you, his tone filled with sarcasm, he seemed hell bent on letting this poser on knowing he wasn't welcomed as he glares expectantly at the man across from him.

Jeremiah practically flinches back in his seat, his hands moving up in an placating defensive motion. "I didn't know she was with someone, I'm so sorry mate." He apologizes, and you can practically feel how wound tight Hobie is as his leg bounces slightly beneath the table with adrenaline.

"Sorry? Nah, nah, you're not sorry but if you're not out of this booth by the time my girl blinks, you will be." Hobie's voice drops into an unfriendly blunt tone, Jeremiah staggers to his feet, taking no chances, you're half tempted to blink just to see what Hobie had planned for him.

Hobie lets out an chuckle, watching Jeremiah retreat to the other side of the bar with such quick feet you'd think his feet were on fire. Hobie leans back in his seat beside you, his arm twitching as he begins to drape it over your shoulder, just barely remembering the bet as his arm hovers, adjusting it to lay over the back of the booth with an irritated huff. "This bet is going to be the proper death of me." He murmurs beside you, and you sigh, nodding in agreement, resisting the urge to cuddle up against him as you normally do whenever in reaching distance of him.

"How much longer do we have?" You ask, bringing your drink back to your lips to take the last swallow of the refreshing liquid. Hobie leans his head back, squinting his eyes as he reads the clock hanging above the entrance of the bar. "Thirty more minutes." He groans softly, you groan along with him at the news. "This sucks." You murmur, rubbing your hands over your face.

Hobie hums in agreement, his eyes drifting over to where Jeremiah is ordering an drink at the bar. "Especially with that bloody poser.." he rolls his eyes, his fingers twitching momentarily as he moves to brush an lock of hair out of your face before pulling back with barely restrained frustration, it doesn't help when Jensen comes by with a tray full of drinks, sitting down across the booth.

"I got the drinks!" He says with such drunken cheerfulness it makes your teeth grit not to mention Jensen being both Hobie and yours reason for being irritated, "Oh, fuck off Jensen." You and Hobie say in unison. Jensen just sighs, used to this treatment, "Why does everyone hate the guy who brings the drinks?" He murmurs.

Thankfully about twenty five minutes goes by swiftly, partly due to the nice liquid distractions in front of you. Hobie seems to still be tense, gripping his drink tightly as he drinks at it, his attention seeming elsewhere while his foot taps against the ground beneath the table, you're more interested in listening to Jensen yap on about his girl troubles, using that as another welcome distraction than losing the bet and accidentally touching Hobie out of pure instinct, although your distraction excuses himself to the restroom leaving you wanting for more juicy girl drama.

The clock on the wall begins to ding, indicating it's midnight, you don't even have an moment to think before you're hoisted from your seat beside Hobie and into his lap and spun around to face him as something hard presses into your inner thigh. "Alright, if any of you don't want a show, get out!" Hobie announces to the bar, before his head ducks into the crook of your neck, pressing hot open mouthed kisses and nips to the sensitive flesh there, your protests getting caught in your throat.

There aren't many patrons in the bar, thankfully, but the ones that are there begin to already shuffle out, even the bartender decides to fuck off, merely telling Hobie to lock the door behind him once we're done. Jeremiah is seen gawking at the bar, rooted in place. Hobie turns his head to face him still nuzzles into your neck, sneering slightly. "You had your chance, mate. She's all mine now." And to prove his point Hobies large hand comes down to your ass, squeezing and fondling you through the fabric of your jeans, making you squeal slightly as he rocks you against his erection in his jeans, the friction hitting against your clit just right.

"Be a good lap dog n' scram." Hobie huffs, one of his hands moving to shuffle your shift up, pushing past your bra to suckle at one perky nipple, you can't help but melt into his touch after so long of being restricted from him, wrapping one of your hands into his wicks to push him further into your chest in encouragement, you don't even notice Jeremiah rushing out with an small barely noticable limp, he's going to be nursing his own excitement all by himself it seems.

Hobie continues to lavish that one nipple before pulling back to give an similar treatment to the other, swirling his talented tongue around the sensitive nub. You whine impatiently, grinding your core against his erection through his pants, he grunts at the friction, moving back to look at you with blown pupils, his hips rising upwards to meet your needy movements.

"Tell me who you belong to, lovey." he huffs, his head burrowing back into your neck, biting and suckling purpling love marks. Your back arches as he finds your sensitive spot on your neck with familiar expertise, "Mmfh- I'm all yours, only yours." You reassure him softly, your hand still gripping gently into his wicks.

Hobie groans against your neck before he pulls back, "That'll do it." He nods, lifting you out of his lap to stand before quickly hopping out of his seat, unbuttoning and pushing past the confines of his pants while you do the same, once both barriers are out of the way, he gently but firmly bends you over the tabletop, giving your ass an quick appreciative smack, rubbing it when you turn your head to glare at him half heartily. "You missed my touch didn't you, sweetheart?" He hums, nudging his length to your wet entrance, coating the tip of his dick in your arousal, even in his own need he never fails to tease you at least once. You nod with an whine, trying to roll your hips back onto him, even widening your legs to further entice. "Of course I did! Please just fuck me." You huff with an hint of desperation, trying to look back and see if Hobie at least looks like he'll be merciful and fuck you properly.

Hobie chuckles, one hand moving to wrap gently around your throat as he leans over your back, "So impatient, be a good girl n' take it." He murmurs against the shell of your ear you don't have a moment to call him a hypocrite before his hips move forward, his cock sliding in with barely any resistance from your wet walls welcoming him inside, the both of your groan in bliss as the wonderful feeling of being connected.

"That's it baby, so good f'me." Hobie groans, beginning to thrust into you, pulling almost all the way back until sinking back in with deep strokes, finding an rhythm quickly, you can't help but whimper beneath him, your hands in front of your to steady yourself from his deep thrusts. His grip on your throat remain gentle and sweet, his thumb stroking softly at the marked flesh of your neck.

"O-only for ah~ you." You choke out, barely heard over the sound of wet skin on skin, and Hobies heavy breaths and groans. His dick twitches inside of you, his head goes into the back of your neck as his thrusts falter for just a moment. "G-goddamn.." he curses, "Sweetheart, if you keep saying stuff like that I won't last fer' much longer..." He pants against your neck, the hand not on your throat holds your hip steady, as he pounds into you.

Your walls flutter around him, as the coil in your belly tightens in arousal as his words hit a certain chord in you. You practically purr as your hands turn white on the grip on the edge of the table, you know it isn't a good idea but fuck it, you're already here. "Not gonna fuck, a-ah~ me proper?" You tease through your moans, and that seems to be Hobies final straw, he growls before the hand on your hip drifts to your inner thigh, lifting it up before he thrusts up into you, way deeper because of the new position. "This 'proper' enough for you?" He huffs into your ear his accent thickening, not waiting for a response as he thrusts up into you like his life depended on it, his hand moving further, moving your thigh onto his forearm while he begins to apply just the amount of pressure to your clit the way you like it.

You yelp, your hips bucking at the sudden stimulation and your orgasm practically crashes down on you, Hobies name getting caught in your throat. Hobie hisses at your walls clamping down on him, his own orgasm ripping through him as hot thick ropes of cum flood your velvet walls, you both cry out together as you share your climaxes, Hobie softly fucks you through it, prolonging your pleasure, murmuring soft praises into your ear and for a moment, you're both panting and basking in the afterglow until an door is heard creaking open.

"Hey, where did everyone go?" Jensens clueless voice chimes, Hobie and you look over just in time to see Jensen return to the main area of the bar, his eyes widening comically at the sight of Hobie leaning over you and his hand still gripping your inner thigh, your lower half practically on display.

"Hot damn.."

"Fuck off, Jensen." You and Hobie groan in unison.

[deans-queen]

I Remember It🧣

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader has been thinking a lot about her past relationship with Jensen, and she wishes things could have ended differently

Inspired by the Song All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) bold/italic text: song lyrics

Warnings: language, light smut, emotional vulnerability, sexual themes.

Reader’s POV

It’s been months, but I still think about him every single day. Jensen Ackles—my Jensen—was everything I wanted. Until he wasn’t. I never thought we’d fall apart like this, that I’d be left holding pieces of a love so strong it could shatter me. But now here I am, sitting in my quiet apartment, listening to “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)” and staring at the old scarf I wore the day we met.

“I left my scarf there, and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now…”

The words of Taylor’s song hit me right where it hurts the most. God, it was so stupidly perfect, the way we’d fallen for each other. I can still remember the way his hands felt on my body, his touch slow and deliberate, the way his lips would trace along my neck. The way he’d make me feel like I was the center of his world. He’d whisper things in my ear, dirty words that would set me on fire, make me crave him even more.

“Y/N, baby, you drive me wild…” he’d say, his voice low and husky, right before he’d kiss me, deep and consuming, pulling me into a world where nothing else existed but us.

And I gave everything to him. I wanted to drown in him, in his love, his touch, his passion. But looking back, maybe that was the problem. I gave him too much of myself, and he took it without realizing just how fragile I was. How fragile we both were.

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

God, how that line hits me every time. He didn’t mean to break me, but he did. One night, after another fight, he just… walked away. He said we needed space, that we were moving too fast. But what he really meant was that I wasn’t enough to keep him grounded, to keep him here.

My heart still aches when I think about the last time we were together. We had one of those rare moments where everything was perfect again. We were tangled up in the sheets, my body pressed against his, our breaths heavy and shallow. He whispered my name in that deep, raspy voice, his fingers tracing my curves like he was memorizing every inch of me. I kissed him then, slowly, letting him know I wasn’t ready to let go, that I would always want more.

His lips were soft against mine, tasting like the whiskey we’d been drinking. He bit my bottom lip gently, making me moan into his mouth, and then he chuckled. That low, sexy sound that used to make me melt. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice dark, teasing, the way he always did when he knew he had me.

I did. God, I loved it. I loved every second of being with him.

But I knew in that moment that it was slipping away. Even as we touched, as we kissed and lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, I could feel it—the distance growing between us. The way he would pull back, emotionally, even as his hands pulled me closer physically.

“And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” I whisper the words to myself, feeling the tears burn my eyes. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I was too much for him, and he wasn’t ready for all I had to give.

I wish I could say it didn’t still hurt, but it does. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, smell him, taste him. I remember the way his breath would catch when I touched him, the way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I wipe my tears and grab the scarf, pulling it to my chest. It still smells like him, faintly, like leather and cologne. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he ever regrets walking away. Does he still have my scarf? Does he ever pull it out of the drawer and think about what we could have been?

Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. Loving Jensen changed me, broke me in ways I never expected. But I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret loving him, even if it still hurts like hell.

I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, the scarf wrapped tightly around my fingers, remembering the love that was once ours. And even though I wish things had ended differently, I can’t help but smile through the tears, because for a moment, I had him. I had him all too well.

It’s been weeks since I last thought of Jensen. Or at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. But deep down, I knew I never really let him go. The pain has softened into a dull ache, but it’s still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

I’m curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, wearing his old flannel—yeah, I know, pathetic—when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I’m not expecting anyone, and for a split second, I think maybe it’s Victoria. But when I open the door, I nearly drop my mug.

It’s him. Jensen, standing there, looking exactly the way I remember him. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, I’m transported back to all those moments we shared. The nights filled with whispered promises, stolen kisses, and passion that felt too big for either of us to handle.

“Y/N,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his voice low and strained. I can see the weight of everything hanging between us, the words unsaid, the pain we caused each other. “I—I know I don’t deserve to be here, but I had to see you.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions rushing in. “Why now, Jensen? After everything, why are you here?”

He steps closer, his eyes filled with regret. “I messed up. I know I hurt you, and it’s taken me too damn long to admit that. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about us.”

My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears. “You walked away, Jensen. You left me here, broken. And now you just show up and expect what? For me to forget all of that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that once made me weak in the knees. “I know I can’t undo the past. I wish I could. But I need you to know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wants to slam the door in his face, tell him to leave and never come back. But another part—the part that still loves him, still aches for him—won’t let me.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He takes another step toward me, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—leather, whiskey, and something distinctly Jensen. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Please, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

I can’t help but look away, my heart hammering in my chest. The memories of him are overwhelming—the good, the bad, all of it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But then I feel his fingers gently touch my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“I never should have left you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were everything to me, and I was too scared to admit it. I was an idiot, and I didn’t deserve you then. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I do now, if you’ll give me the chance.”

His lips hover close to mine, and despite every defense I’ve built, I can feel myself leaning into him. “Jensen…” I whisper, my voice breaking.

He closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s both desperate and familiar. The world fades away, and all I can feel is him—his hands in my hair, his body pressing against mine, the heat between us igniting instantly. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been waiting for this moment all along.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down my back, gripping me possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine. I moan softly, giving in to the fire that’s been burning in me for him all this time.

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. “I want you, Y/N. I always have. I never stopped wanting you. But it’s not just that. I need you. I need us.”

His words make me tremble, and I know I’m already too far gone to push him away. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so long. But I can’t let him break me again. I need to be sure.

“You hurt me, Jensen,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You left me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

He cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I know, baby. I know. And I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes—it’s too much. My defenses crumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him again, hard and desperate, like I’ve been starving for him all this time. He responds with equal intensity, his hands roaming my body, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We stumble backward into my apartment, lips never breaking contact, and I’m lost in him again. Lost in the heat, the passion, the love that never really faded.

As we collapse onto the couch, his body pressing me into the cushions, I know this time it’s different. This time, he’s here to stay. And maybe—just maybe—we can pick up the pieces of what we lost.

“And I remember it all too well…”, and so does he.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story! It’s been in my drafts FOREVER, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance to post it. And also if this song doesn’t make you cry then are you even human ??? 😭Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

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[callalillywrites]

Shooting His Shot Part 2

Here is the conclusion of Shooting His Shot, and I really hope you enjoy this little AU as much as I had in writing it.

Please let me know what you think and if you might want to see more of this universe with the other characters featured here. Seriously, it wouldn't take much to convince to create more. Also, would love some suggestions on a good name for this AU if you've got any.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Other notable characters: Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen, Sam Wilson, Ari Levinson, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, and honorably mentioned Curtis Everett

Word Count: 3880

Summary: Steve owns a steakhouse that you used to frequent before your ex came into the picture. Now, your ex is gone, and you're ready to head back to the one place you've always felt welcome and wanted. What neither you nor Steve count on is his staff, led by Bucky, launching a full-one assault effort to get you two together. It's time the two of you realize your feelings for one another.

Warnings: abusive ex (Reader's), pining, so much pining, fluff, two ridiculous idiots in love, a whole bunch of matchmakers

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent story made like one of those cheesy rom-com which is my bread and butter at this point. It's proofread, but any mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Coming into the room, Steve can’t help taking in the changes himself.

How they managed to clear out the old office and transform it into a decent private dining area is amazing. The amount of time should’ve been far greater than the natural lull between lunch and dinner service. Yet, his staff somehow pulled it off.

“Nick work,” he murmurs as he passes Jake and Peter on his way to the small table.

His words are enough to puff up both their chests and bring pleased grins.

They barely wait long enough for you and him to sit before they approach the table once more. In seconds, they have his and your drink orders before hurrying off.

“I hope they aren’t neglecting their other tables,” he can’t help mumbling though he knows them well enough.

Peter’s been so grateful for the promotion and has been working hard to prove himself. As much as Steve and Sam have continued to praise Peter and his skills, it doesn’t seem to have sunk in yet with the younger man. They’re not giving up as they’re sure he’ll eventually get there and realize they aren’t messing with him.

As for Jake, Steve’s never really had reason for concern. Jake can be a bit awkward, especially around the prettier clientele, but he’s always maintained his professionalism. That awkwardness has even worked in Jake’s favor a time or two from what Steve can tell. He’s certainly drawn in a few of their regulars between his professionalism and his natural ability to put others at ease.

Without Jake, Steve’s not so sure he would’ve met you or had you coming back.

Little does he know that it’s his kindness and his own awkward shyness that made you a regular.

“I have no doubt they’re handling them just fine. Sam and Nat would never let them live it down if they weren’t. You have a good team here.”

Hearing your praise, Steve can’t help but exhale a little. While he knows how good his team is, it’s nice to hear you defend them. Your opinion matters. Maybe more than it should, but then, you matter to him. Since that first day you walked in, you’ve mattered.

Not that he’s ever let himself show you for fear you might not be interested.

It’s why he’s let so many years of silence sit between you when he might’ve taken a chance. Sure, he can blame it on his honor of not hitting on customers. Then again, you haven’t really been considered a customer by him or his staff for the longest time now.

When you brought Brock into the steakhouse almost a year ago, Steve believed he lost his chance. The way you looked at Brock was the same look of love and adoration Steve wanted for himself. He couldn’t help disliking the guy though he’d done his best to remain professional while you and Brock dined.

You only came a few more weeks after that first dinner with Brock before you stopped.

At each of those meals, Steve couldn’t help noting how you said less and less. Your bright friendliness and warmth dimmed more and more though you never stopped being nice to the staff. It didn’t take a genius to see the cause of those changes within you.

Brock.

He’d grown more brash and rude after that first meal. No matter how much you tried to intervene and beg him to stop, Brock not only didn’t listen, but he tried to verbally annihilate you.

It was during that last meal that Steve had had enough. Not only had it been clear that Brock had taken away your confidence and your happiness, but he’d also taken away your ability to fight for yourself.

When you’d gone to the bathroom, Steve had stepped up to the table and asked Brock never to return to his steakhouse. He also made it known that such behavior towards his staff and towards you were not only unwanted but punishable.

As much as Steve wanted to deck Brock, it was one of the only times he’d kept calm. Because of you, he didn’t do what he’d done in the past. Brock got to walk away with his nose intact and his skin unblemished. There was a promise that if Brock ever returned, consequences would follow.  

What Steve hadn’t counted on was not seeing you again until all these months later.

Glancing at you across the table, he can see your quiet confidence and bubbliness has come back. The dark cloud looming over you is nowhere to be found. It makes him happy to see you hadn’t let Brock keep you down. That would be the real shame.

“Do I have something on my face or something?” you ask, breaking the brief silence.

Steve shakes himself before shaking his head. “No, you’re perfect, bijou.”

Butterflies erupt when you beam at him.

*****

Jake and Peter return with your drinks and a sampler platter that you didn’t order.

“Ari made you a fresh mocktail since Sam swept you away before you could finish the other one,” Jake says with a small wink, setting your drink in front of you. At least some of your training on flirting hasn’t left him since your absence. “Said not to worry about it, either. It’s on Sam.”

“Bucky also sent us out with this platter. Said he wanted your thoughts on a few new items he’s been considering for the menu.” This came from Peter who set the platter carefully next to the tiny vase of flowers. The platter contains several different foods from cheese sticks and poppers to some tiny ribs and wings.

You’re quite impressed by it all, yet you can’t help saying, “This all looks so wonderful, but I really hope you’re not going through a lot of trouble just for me.”

“No trouble, future Boss Lady.”

You hear Steve choke on the drink Jake just gave him though he recovers quickly enough.

“We’ll be back soon with your order,” Peter says, giving Jake an exasperated look. He shoves Jake from the room, muttering words too low for you to make out.

Neither notice when you call after them, “But we haven’t ordered yet.”

When they don’t come back, you turn to Steve with what has to be a comical expression as you ask, “Future Boss Lady? The free drink, the hugs, and everything I’ve gotten since I walked in. Are they…”

You pause in the hopes of Steve finishing the thought for you.

He sets his hand on the table, palm up and open in invitation.

There is no hesitation when you place your hand in his, relishing the warmth and the soft callouses that line his fingertips. Working man’s hands as your father used to call them. You have never appreciated the feel of another’s hand until that moment.

The soft smile you’ve grown to love over all the years you’ve known him peeks out as he finishes your question, “Trying to woo you for me? Yeah, I think they are. Well, that and they have genuinely missed you these last six months.”

That has your attention.

The answer isn’t something you expect because you’re still so sure that Steve isn’t interested in you. As if to prove your previous belief correct, you ask, “What about you? Did you miss me?”

A part of you wonders if he’ll even answer the question. You’ve never really been so straightforward with him before. This changes the little dance you two have done since that first meeting a few years back. You’re not even sure you’re ready to hear his answer.

Not that you’ve given yourself a choice.

He doesn’t keep you waiting long. His thumb runs over yours while his gaze meets yours. His voice is low, conspiratorial as he admits, “Mon bijou, the last 187 days have been the longest of my life.”

You suck in a breath as his words wash over you. It’s the first time he’s ever added ‘my’ to his nickname for you. Before, you were always ‘jewel’ and you liked it, but this is something else. It gives you the courage to press for more.  

“You’ve counted the days since my last time here?”

Pink tinges his cheeks while his other hand comes up to rub at his neck. Despite the embarrassment of his confession, he doesn’t seem all that upset about having admitted it. In fact, he nods.

An almost hysterical type of giggle escapes as you admit, “I counted them, too.”

New tears, happy ones, burn at your lash line and threaten to spill over.

His hand tightens on yours. “Please, don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” you say though your conviction is shaky to say the least. “So, if I were to ask you to join me for an art show next week, you would…”

“Love to go,” he finishes without hesitation.

“Ugh, Mr. Rogers, you’re supposed to ask her out, not the other way around,” Peter grouses from the doorway before Jake can cover his mouth.

The two grapple for a few seconds, earning them a raised brow from both you and Steve.

“Apologies, Boss Man,” Jake finally manages when he’s got Peter in a loose chokehold, his hand firmly over Peter’s mouth, “but he’s not necessarily wrong. Smooth finish though. Mentally noting that with all the training future Boss Lady’s given me.”

You turn your face away before your laughter escapes you. To help, you even cover your mouth to keep the giggles in. It’s taking all your ability to keep yourself from just losing it in the moment. Your love for this group of people is overflowing with how much they aren’t subtly trying to help you and Steve out.

When you finally regain your composure, you meet Steve’s equally amused expression as he asks, “Did you two need something? Forget something perhaps? What about your other tables?”

“Checked them. All good, Mr. Rogers. We did forget to take your orders earlier, but Mr. Barnes says he’s got it handled.”

“Of course, he does. Thank you, Peter. Why don’t you and Jake head back to your stations?” His gaze softens the longer he looks at you. “I think we’ll be okay here for a bit.”  

Heat suffuses your cheeks, but you nod, happy to have more time with Steve alone.

Peter and Jake hasten back to their stations, content they’ve done their parts for the moment. You can see their happiness in the way they smile at you before disappearing down the hall. Jake even sends you a pair of thumbs up and a wink.

“I apologize for them.”

You shake your head. “Oh, please, don’t. It’s nice they care so much about you. You’re a good boss. Maybe even the best out there from what I’ve learned over the years.”

“What have you learned?” He arches a brow as he leans forward. His hand still holds yours on the table; his thumb has taken to rubbing a steady path across yours.

With a sip of your new favorite mocktail, you offer him a smile before diving in. “Well, I know that you and Bucky have made it so everyone starts at a living wage. From your dishwashers to your managers and even yourselves, you pay each and every employee enough to live without having to necessarily fear paying their bills each month. I also know that you and Bucky aren’t greedy with your earnings, either. You two are never making more than five times what your lowest earners make. You’ve even lived on zero salaries during some of the leaner years, so you could keep all your employees.”

Rather than the challenge he’d given you earlier with one raised brow, both are now touching his hairline as you reveal all you know.

But you’re not done yet.

“You’re also generous with paid time off and sick days compared to almost any employer out there. While you do occasionally ask your employees to help cover each other, you don’t guilt them or make them feel bad if they can’t cover. You’re not above rolling up your sleeves and stepping in when necessary. Hard work doesn’t scare you from bussing tables to managing customer complaints. I don’t think anyone out there has a negative thing to say about you or Bucky. You have their respect and their devotion. It’s why your restaurant has the lowest turnover rate in the city.”

You take another sip of your mocktail, needing a moment to catch your breath.

“So many companies tout the whole idea of their employees being family to them, but they’re empty words. Used as a manipulation technique. That’s not the case here. You and Bucky really have created a family here. You celebrate your employees’ victories and help them through tough times. You care about them and their lives outside the restaurant. It’s not because you want to pull more work out of them, but because you actually care about their well-being. Do you know how rare and precious that is? Is it really any wonder that I have had the biggest crush on you since forever?”

It takes less than a second for you to realize what you’ve admitted.

Now, you just need the floor to open and swallow you whole.

*****

Steve’s heart leaps at your last few words.

You have a crush on him.

That’s something he thought not possible despite his ever-deepening feelings for you over the years.

Yet, that’s nothing compared to how much you’ve learned about him and the steakhouse. He’s not sure how you came by all this information, but he’s certain he doesn’t care. The fact that it’s enough to impress you with all he’s firmly believed in doing for his staff makes it that much easier to fall for you even harder.

“You really noticed all that?”

You nod, your gaze lowering to where he’s still holding your hand. “Yeah, mostly from Jake and Nat, but also reading what are supposed to be puff pieces about the place. I think I might be a little invested in the success of this place.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, needing to know you aren’t some figment of his imagination. No other woman he’s ever met or been interested in has ever been so deeply sincere as you’re being with him now. They certainly hadn’t cared about the vision he and Bucky had for their restaurant so much as what they could get out of it for themselves. You care about his staff almost as much as he and Bucky do, and he can’t help loving you even more for it.

“I know I should’ve done this ages ago,” he swallows, then pushes on, “but do you think you might have dinner with me?”

Your gaze bounces to his before you motion toward the table and the appetizer that’s still sitting between you.

He chuckles. “Not this dinner. I mean a real one. I pick you up, hold the door open for you, and woo you properly. No assistance or machinations from others. Say, Monday night?”

“If I say yes, does that mean this one has to end? I’ve really, really been looking forward to one of Bucky’s creations and seeing everyone here, especially you.”

“Nah, I don’t want this one to end, either. Besides, it looks like the others have gone to a lot of trouble to make this happen. Don’t want to let their hard work go to waste.”

That earns him a beaming smile, and he’s more than ready to make it happen as often as he can.

“We should probably eat this before it gets cold.”

Nodding, you pick up one of the cheese sticks and take a bite while he chooses one of the poppers.

Both of you have to bite back moans, but the food is worth every bit of praise that’s sure to pass through both your lips before the night is over.

Talk soon turns towards the food and how good it is. You even offer Steve a sip of Ari’s latest concoction since he hasn’t been allowed to try it until your return. He finds it delicious though maybe not as much as you do. Every sip you take, he notes the little happy wiggle you do. It’s another thing he’s missed seeing these last six months.

Your enjoyment of the food and drinks the steakhouse offers is nothing short of wondrous to watch. None of it is faked to spare hurt feelings. The rare occasions you don’t like something, you share your thoughts with great care, couching your criticisms with plenty of positive feedback and constructive notes.

When the food is gone, Steve glances to find you biting your lip before you seem to come to a decision. Your gaze meets his as you say, “I, uh, I know this is one of your usual nights off. As are Mondays. Can I ask why you’re here really? Is it really to catch up on paperwork and handle payroll? Seems like those would be handled as necessary during the few hours between lunch and dinner.”

Steve blows out a breath.

He wonders how long you’ve been holding onto that information and which of his staff might’ve revealed this little tidbit to you.

Knowing you’ve revealed something deeply held, it’s only fair he does the same. If he wants to prove he’s all in, then he needs to step up and do it.

Another breath, he admits softly, “This is the day you usually make a reservation. Your early victory for surviving another week. Has been since the day you graduated with honors from university. So, it’s become a tradition for you to come each week. Your chance to spoil yourself. Since meeting you, mon bijou, I’ve found myself not wanting to miss an opportunity to see you again. Even if it’s in snatches on Thursdays, I’ll take it. You’re the greatest highlight of my week.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, but then, he’s certain he did the same with yours.

Though, you seem to recover quick enough as you ask, “Does this mean we’ve been pining for each other this entire time? Are we really those idiots in love you see in those Hallmark movies?”

Steve chuckles and nods. “I think we might be.”

“Oh, you most definitely are, but we love you both anyway,” Nat says from the doorway, her signature smirk in place. “Dinner will be out shortly.”

She takes off then.

When his gaze meets yours, you both burst out laughing.

“Well, my fellow idiot, I have one more question before I finally answer yours.”

Steve grins. “Lay it on me.”

“Why do you call me ‘bijou’? I know it’s French, and it means jewel. I’m just not clear on the why.” You prop your chin on your free hand and lean across the table towards him. 

The desire to lean in, to close the distance between you, is overwhelming. He longs to learn how soft your lips are against his, but he swallows the desire. Maybe one day real soon, he’ll have earned the privilege. All bets will be off then because he has no doubts that he’ll never want to stop kissing you.

“I took French in high school. Second language requirement. I ended up really liking it. Still pretty decent at it though I don’t practice half as much as I should. Back then, I really wanted to see Paris and be in the City of Love, you know? I got that chance with the army. Spent about a week between tours there and got to see some of the sights, but I’ve always wanted to go back. To really see all the sights. Share it with someone I really care about.”

He stops then, needing the moment to gather himself. For what, he can’t really say. It’s not lost on him that his next words have the power to either woo you or send you running in the opposite direction. All he wants is to keep you as close as you’ll allow for as long as he can.

“When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. You certainly looked like one that night, but you were also so precious, rare. You took your time that evening learning about Jake. The tip you left was more than generous, even by normal tipping standards. Not once did you ever make someone feel inferior to you. I saw the way you stood up for Peter when that customer tripped him. I’ve never been more impressed with someone who wanted to do what’s right and not for what they might get in return.”

Your hand tightens around his, temporarily stopping him. He sees you blink rapidly. Your attempts to stop the tears are unsuccessful.

Reaching across the table, he gently swipes at the corners of your eyes and offers a smile.

“I don’t think you know how much of an impression you made on all of us that night. You were the most precious jewel I’d ever seen, and I’ve seen the English Queen’s jewels on a brief layover in London once. You don’t know how much I fell for you that night and having been falling ever since.”

His fingers continue to try and stem the flow of your tears leaking freely down your cheeks at his confession. The sweet smile on your face is almost as wondrous as you nuzzling your cheek against his hand, seeking his touch.

With a sniffle, you ask, “Do we really have to wait until Monday for that date?”

“It’s my next day off,” he says with a soft laugh, happy you’re agreeing to go out with him, “but I promise to make it worth the wait.”

A loud round of applause and several whoops echoed through the room.

Steve’s head shot towards the doorway where his entire staff are watching. Bucky stands at the head of the group, two plates in his hands and a wide grin on his face.

“Bout time you finally shoot your shot, punk. Doll here is a real saint for waiting on you so long.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t refute Bucky’s assertion.

“Kiss her already, man,” Sam hollered from behind Nat and Jake.

Before they can start chanting because they would, Steve leans in close to you, whispering, “Is it alright if I kiss you? Not because of these fools, but because I want to.”

Your smile contains a hint of mischief even as you nod.

When he’s within a breath of your lips, you let him know exactly what’s on your mind, whispering, “You know I’m an interior decorator, who’s just gotten a promotion. I could do wonders with this room of yours.  Maybe make it a place to turn the tables on these matchmakers you seem to have.”

“Mon bijou, you can do anything you want as long as I can call you mine.”

His lips touch yours, and you both forget about everything but each other.

Well, at least until Bucky sets your plates down on the table and sends everyone back to work. He’s the first to congratulate you both with hugs and well wishes for your long and happy future together.

*****

Main Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 9

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

As you come in sight of your desk, you stutter step. Every day when Mr. Hansen gets in, rarely before yourself, he closes himself in his office. He never says good morning, never has a ‘hello’, usually only a tossed jacket and cold shoulder. Not today. 

You stare at Mr. Hansen as he leans against your desk with his arms crossed. His eye socket is purplish blue and a bit swollen. He winces as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Critter,” he greets. 

“Sir, I brought you a coffee,” you wiggle the cup free of the tray and hold it out. “How’s your eye?” 

“You don’t look very well-rested,” he ignores your question. “Figured you would since you left in such a hurry.” 

“Mr. Hansen--” 

“Save it,” he takes the cup and hold his fingers over the lid. “It’s cold.” 

He takes the lid off and turns. He plunks it down so it splashes on your desk and he reached to your monitor. He takes the little dancing kitten and rams it into the cup. “Go get me another.” 

You can’t help a whimper as you step up to grab your figurine. He keeps you from getting to it. You can already see the felt soaking through.

“Sir?” You whine, “why--” 

“I need a new coffee. Scurry off and get it, Critter.” 

Mr. Hansen is rarely nice. You might call him the meanest person you’ve ever met but he’s worse today. Is it his ex-wife or is it you? Is this because you would stick around past dark? And if you did and came in worn out or late, what then? It’s a game with no winning. 

You take a step back and set your chin, “yes, sir. Coffee, sir.” 

Your voice is willowy and hollow. He faces you, weighing you with a glare. You turn and stomp back to the door, dropping the cardboard tray in the blue bin on your way out. You have to get away from him before you scream. 

It’s not just that he ruined your kitty, it’s everything. You’re so confused by him. You don’t get why last night he acted the way he did and now he’s a bigger jackass than before. That's right. A jackass. 

You forge ahead without hesitation. This building is suffocating, the indifference of others is biting, and everything about your existence is grey. You hate it all. 

Your instinct guides you through the motions. They know you at a glance at Esther’s. They get your coffee ready and you pay with the company card. You leave and drive without urgency. 

Back at the office, you head up with dread heavy in your heels. You take a breath before you near Mr. Hansen’s door, a brief glimpse of your still coffee-submerged figure on the way. You stop and stare at his door. Your heart is racing. 

Your hand moves to the lid without thinking. You peel it off carefully and gather saliva on your tongue. You dip your head and quietly spit into the coffee. You put the lid back and stand straight. You can’t knock. You look down at the cup and sigh. You can’t give him it now. Why did you do that? 

Too late. The door opens and you flinch. Hansen swipes the cup from your hand, “about time. I’m not supposed to be waiting on you, critter, other way around.” Your mouth falls open but you can’t speak. You're helpless. Again. You hate that feeling. “No tomato red today? Too bad?” 

He eyes you up and down and you slump. He raises the cup and slurps through the slot. You bite down and watch him, cheek twitching. You don’t feel so bad anymore. 

“Sir, is there anything else I can get you?” You ask. 

“A smile, how about that, critter?” 

You furrow your brow. 

“Other way, sweetheart.” 

You wince. Sweetheart... you’re critter. A rodent. Not anything else. 

You smile, it’s brittle and painful. He winks and doffs his cup, “good girl.” 

He takes a step back and slams the door in your face. No thank you. Just humiliation. 

You huff and shake your head. You go to your desk and slip your purse underneath. You boot up your computer and twiddles your fingers on your thighs. You’re uneasy, you can’t settle in. 

You remove the felt kitty from the coffee cup. It’s soppy and stained. You dump both in the bin under your desk. It's ruined. There’s no saving it. Forget it. 

Hansen’s calendar is busy that day. He has golf at one. Good. He'll be out of office. You start on the inbox and your own bings. You usually let yours pile up. There’s never anything important. You catch the title before the notification disappears. 

You switch to your own account and open the new mail. It’s from logistics; a general account without a name. Your nerves stir as you read the offer for an interview. Tomorrow. Wow, that’s quick. Jensen came through. And whoever this G is that signed the single letter at the bottom. 

You hit reply and Hansen’s door opens, giving you a start. Your pulse picks up and you minimize your response. Mr. Hansen teethes the plastic lid of his cup as he tuts and approaches. 

“I need new golf gloves for this afternoon.” 

“Sir,” you grab your notebook and a pen, “I can go grab some--” 

“No, you’ll come with me,” he demands. “I got big hands. I can’t have you bringing me those one size fits all bullshit.” 

“Yes, sir,” you close the notebook. 

“Could use a new shirt too,” he says thoughtfully, “something that brings out my eyes.” 

You look up at him, “right now, sir?” 

“Right fucking now,” he checks his watch. “Christ, what’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing, Mr. Hansen,” you click around your screen and lock the computer. “Let’s go.” 

You bend to grab your purse and hook it over your elbow as you stand. You feel him watching. You come around the desk and he meets you on the other side. 

“You know,” he blocks you with his arm, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pissed off.” 

“Sir?” You step back. “I’m not--” 

“You’re not?” He challenges. 

“No, sir.” 

“Then lighten the fuck up,” he sneers and pinches your cheek. You can’t help but swat at him and he catches your hand. “Woah, woah, we getting frisky?” 

“No, Mr. Hansen,” you wisp as he squeezes your wrist, “you surprised me--” 

“Aw, crit, how long have you been here?” He lets go and taps your cheek mockingly, “keep up.” 

His sole scuffs as he turns and struts off. You trail behind him like the mouse he calls you. You sniff and watch him sip from the cup. It is kinda of funny. He has no idea what’s in it. It’s as much vindication as you’ll ever get but hopefully, you won’t have to deal with him for much longer. 

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]

Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.

Warnings: 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

Word Count: 4.2K

Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.” 

Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you. 

The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm? 

The harm was it was depressing as fuck. 

“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel. 

Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though. 

“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.” 

“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul. 

So you never mentioned it. 

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

“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow. 

“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer. 

“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning. 

“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul. 

“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully. 

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day. 

“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus. 

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence. 

“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count. 

But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake. 

“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother. 

“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin. 

“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh. 

“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question: 

Did he believe in God? 

“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.” 

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

“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack. 

The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic. 

“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.” 

“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.” 

“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.” 

“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!” 

“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.” 

“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face. 

“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head. 

But–you moved:

“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?” 

“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink. 

“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest. 

“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.” 

“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers. 

It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud* 

Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny. 

“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact. 

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 

The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his. 

“Jensen–” 

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

“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms. 

When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts. 

“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.” 

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake. 

“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.” 

“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason? 

“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors. 

“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.” 

Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow. 

“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.

“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes. 

Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’ 

With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you. 

“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind. 

“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest. 

With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to. 

“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”

“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.” 

“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks. 

It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand: 

“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.” 

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

For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand. 

From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck. 

He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy. 

Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session. 

The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been. 

The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it. 

The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets. 

“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?”  As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing. 

“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin. 

As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet. 

“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies. 

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 

The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand: 

“Jensen–”

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

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

[anurst]

Girl Bradshaw

Summary: You and Bradley had a complicated relationship as siblings. He walked out of your life when he turned 18 and never looked back. What happens when your teams are forced to work together? Worse (for him, at least), Jake has taken a serious interest in you.

Pairing(s): Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F! Bradshaw! reader

Warning(s): inaccurate description of military/marine, language, alcohol

Part 1: Braidy (y/n) Bradshaw

You weren't a violent person. You consider yourself a lover, not a fighter. If your mom taught you anything, it's that violence is not the solution to your problems.

However, when it came to your best friend, Jensen Kay, you were willing to forgo everything your mom taught you. The shit-eating smirk he was sending you made everything in your body heat up.

"You wanna admit that I was right, (y/n)?" You scoffed in response before turning your back to him. His bubbly laugh echoed from behind you as your face started to turn red. The woman behind the counter giggled at the pair of you before she took the cup from your hand.

"I can make you a different drink, ma'am. Matcha isn't for everyone. Is an iced coffee drink ok?," she asked as you mumbled thanks and moved to the pick up area with Jensen following behind you.

"She's right, (y/n). Matcha isn't for everyone. Don't take it to heart that you didn't like it," Jensen teased.

"Up your ass, Jen." The taller man smiled at your response before taking a sip of his matcha latte. His eyes wandered around the cafe before winking at a pair of women ogling him from a table. They giggled once more before turning away as you turned to look at them.

"You're killing my game," Jensen told you as you rolled your eyes. Your best friend was well known throughout the marine raiders as a womanizer. Maybe that's why you two were such a good pair. You weren't against casual hookups, you indulged every now and then, but you didn't do it as frequently as Jensen. Your career was more important to you which meant you didn't have much free time for relationships and such. Besides, it's not like you had much of a life outside of the raiders.

Your parents were long gone and it was a fact you accepted after your mom died. You had an aunt from your mother's side of the family that you spoke to every now and then since she took you in after your mom's passed. Bradley and Pete had been cut out of your life for a long time. Bradley more than Pete.

"Here you go! An iced coffee. I took the liberty of adding in vanilla syrup." The barista placed the drink in front of you as you smiled at her.

"Thank you again. I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about. By the way, you two make a cute couple!" Before you could explain that you and Jensen weren't together, the barista had walked away. A disgusted frown made its way to your face as Jensen snickered.

"How about we get outta here and head to work, babe?"

"Eat shit, shitter."

"Morning Bradshaw! Kay!" Amy grinned at you two. Jensen smiled at her and the two started conversing as you followed behind them. Your service uniform was always incredibly uncomfortable for you. Something about the tightness and formality of it made you scream internally. Of course, you never showed your discomfort on the outside. Years in the academy and in the raiders taught you how to mask your feelings.

Jensen held the door for you and Amy as all three of you walked into the conference room. Politely greeting everyone, you took a seat as the lights started to dim. Your eyes met Nolan's from your spot as you nodded at your elemental leader. Carlos and Ethan were seated next to them and they gave you a friendly smile and nod.

"Thank you all for coming on such quick notice," Ari said, standing tall at the head of the table, all eyes on him. "Normally, the rest of my squad would be here to plan out the assignment, however, the higher ups have deemed that it's only necessary that I work on this." Ari Chambers was a man who respected by all. He was an efficient SOO and got the job done. His own squad was famed for their intelligence when it came to planning your assignments.

"Sir, if I may, why is it that only half our tactical squad was called for this assignment. Wouldn't it make more sense to have all of our combined skill?" Amy asked from besides you.

"The higher ups made it clear that the less people who know about this assignment, the better. I requested that only the people in this room be called back. In my personal opinion, this tactical squad is the stronger of the two in the first battalion. You have a fine squad, Meadows." Nolan nodded in appreciation as Ari continued. "Of course, it won't just be the raiders on this assignment. You'll be accompanied by a squadron of naval aviators, the best I've been assured. They'll take care of the skies while you work on the ground. They'll be arriving to Camp Pendleton within the next day in order to go over the assignment with us. I except everyone on their best behaviors."

You could see from the corner of your eye, Ethan holding back an eye roll at the comment. "Problem, Kim?" Startled, Ethan shook his head as Carlos, Jensen, and Amy turned to him with amused eyes. You and Nolan kept your focus on Ari as he opened a folder. "The squadron you'll be cooperating with has been dubbed as the "Dagger Squad." They'll be led by Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign: Maverick."

'shit'

"Can't believe we have to actually work with naval aviators," Ethan complained from the seat behind you as Amy elbowed him. He and Amy were sitting in the seats behind you, and Nolan and Carlos were seated behind them. Jensen was sat to your right in the passenger's seat as you drove to the bar that your squad loved to drink at every time you were in California.

"I'm sure they won't be that bad," Amy reasoned as Carlos snickered from behind her. "Kim's just upset cause he got ghosted by naval aviator once."

"Did not!"

"Did to!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Yu-huh!"

"Children," Nolan warned as Ethan and Carlos quickly stopped arguing. Amy started talking about a movie she saw recently as Jensen turned to you.

"You good?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" you questioned, your eyes momentarily meeting his. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you thought back to Ari's words. Scoffing, Jensen rolled his eyes.

"Fine, be like that." Clicking your tongue, you sighed. You didn't like when Jensen gave you a taste of your own attitude. It reminded you of how bitter you became when the topic of your estranged family came up.

"I don't know if I can work with him."

"Captain Mitchell?"

"Yeah."

"Not to be harsh, but it doesn't matter if you think you can't. You're gonna have to so this mission is successful."

"I know. I'm gonna have to act like I can tolerate him, when in reality I want nothing more than to scream at him."

The sign of the The Gunny came into view as your squadmates cheered. Quickly parking and filing out, Carlos slung his arm around your shoulders before shaking you. "You gonna play us another song, (y/n)?" Smirking, you agreed as your group made its way inside.

Bodies in uniform and civies filled your vision as you greeted familiar faces. A smile made its way to your face as you approached the man behind the bar. "You miss me, handsome?" you teased the blond, who's eyes widened and smile widen upon seeing you.

"(y/n)! You're back," Zack sweetly cheered as he hugged you as best he could from behind the counter.

"For you? Always." Zack playfully rolled his eyes as he started pulling out beers for you and your squad.

"I'm assuming everyone else is here if you are."

"Yep," you said popping the 'p'.

"The first round's on the house. I'll see you in between rounds? Oh, and your guitar's still here!"

Giving the blond a wink and smile, you nodded before taking the beers and heading to your group's usual spot. Upon seeing you with drinks, your friends cheered and laughs started to flow around.

A couple drinks in and your squad, minus Nolan and you, had flushed cheeks and wide smiles. "(y/n), you're gonna perform for us, right?!" Amy widely smiled at you as everyone else smiled and agreed. You also smiled as you turned to look at Nolan.

"Only if our fearless leader joins me," you teased. Rolling his eyes, Nolan stood and offered you a hand. Giggling, you followed him towards the small stage and quickly grabbed your guitar that was mantled on the wall.

Your friends and other marines started to cheer and gathered around the stage. Like Jensen, you has a reputation within the raiders. When your squad was stationed in Oceanside, it was a guaranteed that you were the one who would start a performance. You'd say that it was in your genes to perform music for people.

Nolan started playing the drums from behind you and as you started playing on your guitar. People that recognized the tune of the song started cheering.

Mmm, yeah!

Tonight, I want to give it all to you In the darkness, there's so much I want to do And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet 'Cause girl, I was made for you And girl, you were made for me

I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?

Your eyes met Zack as he laughed and shook his head. He'd seen you perform multiple times and each was as memorable as the last. His favorite was when you and Jensen were absolutely drunk and got the entire bar to sing Kids In America.

Tonight, I want to see it in your eyes Feel the magic, there's something that drives me wild And tonight, we're gonna make it all come true 'Cause girl, you were made for me And girl, I was made for you

I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?

The entire bar has joined in and a wide smile made it was to your face as you pointed to your friends who sang even louder.

I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can give it all to you, baby Can you give it all to me?

Oh, can't get enough I can't get enough I can't get enough

As your eyes watched the crowd go wild, a familiar Hawaiian shirt peeked out from behind a group of guys and your eyes furrowed momentarily.

I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?

Oh, I was made You were made I can't get enough No, I can't get enough

I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?

You cheered as claps and howls sounded throughout the bar. Turning to Nolan, you grinned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You both bowed and hopped off the stage before joining your friends.

Amy shook your shoulders and brought you in for a hug as the guys patted Nolan on the back. Face a little flushed, you excused yourself and made your way over to Zack. Requesting another beer, you waited for him to finish up with other people.

"Quite a show you put on," a man said from your side. Turning to him, you smiled at him. His green made your cheeks heat up slightly as thanked him. "I didn't know the raiders required sing lessons."

Giggling, you shook your head. "What can I say? Naturally gifted. My folks used to say it was a genetic thing."

"Gifted, indeed," the sandy-blond man grinned. "Jake Seresin." Nodding, you momentarily turned away to thank Zack as he passed you a beer.

"So, Jake Seresin. What're you doing in The Gunny? Never seen you here before."

"In Oceanside for work. I'm a naval aviator."

Raising your eyebrow, you let out a breathy laugh. "It was nice meeting you, but naval aviators are a big no for me." Jake's grin fell for a second before he grabbed your wrist as you turned away.

"Got your heart broken by one?" he asked as you chuckled.

"Three."

"I won't be number four."

Shaking your head, you removed your wrist from Jake's hold. "Sorry, Jake, but I'm just too busy." Quickly turning away, you started making your war back to your friends before stopping as Jake called out after you.

"I'll be by the pools table with my friends if you change your mind!"

Giving him an amused smile, you continued your walk to your friends before sliding into a seat. Exhaling, you tried to hide your red cheeks. Ever the observant one, Ethan whistled and wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Who's got you all red, (y/n)?"

"None of your business," you answered as Jensen and Carlos snorted. Amy smirked at you as she leaned closer to you.

"Come onnnnnnnn. Tell us," she whined as Jensen joined her from your other side. Grumbling, you looked at Nolan with pleading eyes. The older man simply raised his hands in surrender.

"Don't look at me. I wanna know, too."

Groaning, you buried your face into your hands as your friends continued to tease you. "Fine! Some dirty blond with cute green eyes. Approached me at the bar and introduced himself. Jake Seresin."

Amy squealed as the guys started to cheer. "Here's the kicker. He's a naval aviator."

Ethan's face dropped as Jensen and Carlos cackled at his face. Amy and Nolan smiled at you before Carlos suggested you go for after him. While everyone agreed, you started waving them off. "Naval aviators are a big no for me."

"Oh come on! He had you all flustered! I've never seen you like that," Amy reasoned as everyone nodded.

"Don't stop yourself from going after him just cause I have problems with aviators," Ethan added.

Biting your lip, you looked down at your beer. Jensen quickly rubbed your back as he lowered his voice, "Not everyone is gonna hurt you, (y/n)." Sighing, you nodded before standing tall. Your friends cheered as you turned and made your way to the pool tables.

Immediately spotting Jake, you called out to him. Grinning, Jake turned to you. Smiling at him, you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before your smile fell. The same Hawaiian shirt you saw earlier popped out from behind Jake. Stepping around the dirty-blond, you called out to the person wearing the shirt.

"Bradley?"

{A little guide to who everyone is since I didn't properly introduce them:

Jensen Kay- CSO in your squad

Ethan Kim- CSO in your squad

Carlos Ruiz- CSO in your squad

Amy Clarke- SARC in your squad

Nolan Meadows- your squad's elemental leader

Ari Chambers- SOO of the HQ half of the first battalion

Zack Ramsey- owner of the The Gunny

Braidy (y/n) Bradshaw- CSO

From what I've read the Marine Raider Regiment (MARSOC) is spit into three battalions. (y/n) is a raider within the first battalion which is stationed at Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, CA (45 minutes from Miramar actually). Each battalion is split into two sides, the HQ side and the tactical side. Ari is apart of the first battalion's HQ side and everyone else is apart of the tactical side. There's actually two squads on the tactical side but for the sake of story I only include one squad. If there's anything else I seemed to miss, feel free to tell me and I consider making some changes}