#shawn mendes apartment

[valeisaslut]

do either of them have beef with anyone else in the industry either secretly or very publicly lol

oh you want drama. buckle up.

COLLIDE POPSTAR!READER X ROCKSTAR!ELLIE BEEFS LMAO

you and ellie? you’re literally drama magnets. two beautiful, very deranged celestial bodies orbiting the same flaming sun of pettiness. you can try to be normal. you try to play nice. but it’s in your blood.

ellie’s public beefs:

⭑.ᐟ first of all. donald trump. legendary. iconic. HISTORIC beef. back when the fireflies were first exploding, trump randomly decided to tweet, “i don’t get this ‘ellie williams’ noise. very sad!” and ellie, from her green room mid-tour, tweeted:

“damn. didn’t know hell had wifi. eat my mf strap.”

32.3 million likes. someone screen-printed it onto a shirt. "eat my mf strap" became an iconic quote for the lesbian community. the white house official account blocked her. she framed the tweet and hung it in her LA apartment above some grammys.

⭑.ᐟ then there’s machine gun kelly. he tried to flirt with her once at a fashion week afterparty, and she looked him dead in the eye and said, “i'd rather fuck a broken amp.” he blocked her immediately. she’s still proud. she brings it up unprompted at least once a month.

⭑.ᐟ she also has serious beef with shawn mendes. no one knows why. literally no one. she just refuses to be in the same room as him. if you ask her why, she’ll shrug and say: "his aura is suspicious." dina thinks it’s hilarious. jesse once laughed so hard ellie threatened to kick him out of the band.

⭑.ᐟ with spotify....? they removed her from one curated playlist. she mailed them a written letter that said, simply: "eat shit." they framed it and hung it in the New York office. she's now technically "banned" from the headquarters but still uses her premium account like a menace.

⭑.ᐟ adam levine. he once said that "bands are dead" in an interview and she just responded with a photo of the Fireflies headlining Lollapalooza in front of 80k people. captioned it "damn. missed the funeral."

⭑.ᐟ kanye west. listen. she never said anything directly. but once during a show in chicago, she did a rock cover of Gold Digger and changed the lyrics to: "i ain’t messin’ with no nazi bitch.". went extremely viral. never mentioned it again.

⭑.ᐟ sometimes she will just randomly unfollow and refollow people to cause chaos. in 2023 she unfollowed like half of the Grammy performers and then posted "just had to cleanse my aura real quick" on her story. so mf uncalled for.

your (reader’s) beefs:

you? oh, you are so scary when you want to be. the QUEEN of passive aggressive beef.

⭑.ᐟ you once had a fake-nice beef with a former disney star turned influencer who kept posting those “some of us don’t need features to chart 🧘‍♀️” captions. you responded by dropping a deluxe edition of your album featuring three collabs and an orchestral version and a remix and charted every single one. captioned your post: “thankful for my friends 💕.”people caught on immediately. there were think pieces.

⭑.ᐟ you once got asked to collab with a rapper known for being homophobic (da baby) and you very publicly turned it down by posting an instagram story that said: "i’d rather eat thumbtacks. respectfully."

⭑.ᐟ katy perry said something vaguely homophobic ab you on a podcast once, and when asked about it in an interview, you smiled so sweetly and said, “i thought she was opening a shoe store? i support small businesses tho.” the interviewer had to excuse themselves to laugh.

⭑.ᐟ you hate perez hilton. it’s no secret. once he tried to bait you into drama by tweeting “pop princess y/n getting a little too wild lately?” and you quote-tweeted him with: "who let you out of the nursing home."

⭑.ᐟ your most lowkey beef is with a famous country singer who said “i don’t think pop stars are real musicians.” you have never once acknowledged it publicly. but at your next show you covered Jolene and changed the lyrics to make it about stealing his girlfriend. people understood.

⭑.ᐟ you once got kinda shaded by an "edgy" alt-pop girl for your tour costumes being "too theatrical," so at your next show, you entered the stage in a 40-pound diamond-studded corset on a chariot. you didn’t break character once. the videos are still trending on stan twitter.

⭑.ᐟ GQ photoshopped your waist in a cover shoot without telling you. so you, being the legend you are, posted the raw, unedited pics on instagram with the caption: "i like my waist the way it fucking is. thanks." simple. lethal. a cultural reset.

ellie, naturally, saw it and went absolutely feral in the gq comment section. no emojis. no punctuation. just pure threat: "touch her again and i’m burning your mf offices down"

and privately? you both absolutely despise a HANDFUL of people. yall even keep a list. it’s literally like a famous people burn book. you’re planning to leak it someday just for the drama.

but yeah. despite the occasional beef, the truth is: you two are untouchable. you're the biggest thing in music right now. everyone either wants to collab with you or be you. labels want you, fans worship you. and when you do get hated on, it's so clearly jealousy that you don't even have to respond. you just post a blurry pic kissing ellie backstage and it gets 20M likes overnight.

[gottencents]

Fallin’ All In You - Giselle

pairing. idol!giselle x girlfriend!reader

synopsis. giselle playfully takes on the role of makeup artist while sitting on Y/N’s lap, turning every brushstroke into an excuse for a kisses.

The soft hum of lo-fi music filled the cozy living room, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the scattered makeup on the coffee table. Brushes, palettes, and foundation bottles were spread out in a chaotic but intentional mess—courtesy of Giselle.

Y/N sat on the couch, leaned back comfortably, arms resting lazily on the cushions as Giselle settled herself on her lap. Her knees framed Y/N’s thighs, and her weight was perfectly balanced. She had a brush in one hand and a mischievous glint in her eye, which only meant trouble.

“Alright, sit still,” Giselle instructed, her voice light but authoritative. “I’m making you my masterpiece.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And by masterpiece, you mean clown, right?”

Giselle gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “How dare you? I’m an artist!” She leaned in closer, their faces just inches apart, her expression softening into a grin. “Besides, you’re already too pretty to mess up.”

Before Y/N could respond, Giselle pressed a soft kiss to her cheek—just a brief touch of her lips, but enough to make Y/N’s heart stumble.

“Is kissing part of the makeup process now?” Y/N teased, her hands naturally resting on Giselle’s waist to steady her.

Giselle pretended to think, swirling the foundation brush in her hand. “Hmm… It is now. It’s called the kiss-and-glam method. Super effective.”

Y/N chuckled, her eyes following Giselle’s every move as she dabbed foundation onto her face. She was meticulous yet playful, her concentration occasionally interrupted by her own desire to lean in and sneak another kiss.

“There,” Giselle said after applying a thin layer. She tilted her head to inspect her work, her fingertips grazing Y/N’s jawline. “Flawless.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You barely did anything.”

Giselle grinned, grabbing a blush brush. “Patience, baby. Perfection takes time.” She lightly dusted Y/N’s cheeks with blush, leaning in close as she worked. Y/N could feel her breath against her skin, warm and comforting.

“Oops,” Giselle whispered, biting her lip as she lightly tapped the brush against Y/N’s nose. “Too much blush.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Guess you’ll have to kiss it better.”

Giselle didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, brushing her lips against the tip of Y/N’s nose in a soft kiss before pulling back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Better?”

“Much,” Y/N replied, her voice dropping slightly, a playful challenge in her tone.

Giselle moved on to the eyeshadow palette, choosing a soft shimmer. As she leaned in to apply it, her body shifted slightly on Y/N’s lap, sending a jolt of awareness through both of them. Y/N’s fingers tightened their grip on Giselle’s waist instinctively, and for a moment, the air between them felt thicker.

“You’re staring,” Giselle said without looking up, her voice teasing.

“Can you blame me?” Y/N shot back, her eyes lingering on Giselle’s lips. “You’re kind of hard to ignore when you’re sitting on me like this.”

Giselle paused, her eyes meeting Y/N’s. A slow smile spread across her face as she set the eyeshadow palette aside. “You’re distracting me, you know that?”

“I thought that was your job,” Y/N said, her fingers lightly tracing circles on Giselle’s waist.

Giselle leaned down, their faces barely an inch apart. “Maybe it is,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Y/N smirked, her eyes flicking to Giselle’s lips and back up. “I might kiss you until you forget what you were doing.”

“Tempting,” Giselle murmured, brushing her thumb along Y/N’s jawline. “But you’ll have to catch me first.”

Before Y/N could respond, Giselle leaned in and kissed her again—this time, slow and deliberate. Her lips were soft, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.

Y/N blinked, slightly dazed. “That’s not fair.”

Giselle giggled, resting her forehead against Y/N’s. “Life’s not fair. But I’ll make it up to you.”

Her lips found Y/N’s again, this time with more certainty. The kiss deepened, and Y/N’s hands slid up Giselle’s back, holding her close. The rest of the world faded away—no music, no makeup brushes—just the warmth of Giselle’s body pressed against hers and the electric connection that seemed to hum between them.

When they finally pulled back for air, Giselle smiled, her cheeks flushed. “Forget the makeup,” she said breathlessly. “I think you look perfect just like this.”

Y/N grinned, her thumb gently brushing a stray strand of hair from Giselle’s face. “I told you, I was already pretty.”

“Yeah,” Giselle whispered, her eyes soft. “But you’re also mine.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the words, pulling Giselle in for one more kiss—slow and sweet, a promise sealed in the warmth of their embrace.

The makeup could wait. This moment? It was too good to let go.

[theonottsbxtch]

FALLIN' INTO YOU | OP81

an: this is apart of my very delayed 2k celly, we're closer to 3k than we are to 2k this is how late it is, anyway enjoy soft oscar <3

wc: 718

request: can I also request a song fic please? Fallin all in you by Shawn mendes, for Oscar and reader 🥹 something about early morning cuddles in bed 🫶

The morning light filtered gently through the sheer white curtains, casting a quiet golden hue across the bedroom. It was the kind of soft, early light that didn’t demand attention—just whispered its way in, warming skin and tangled sheets. The world beyond the windows was still, muted by frost and silence, the hum of life elsewhere waiting to begin. But here, in this small sanctuary wrapped in linen and hush, time had chosen to move more slowly.

Oscar stirred first, though only barely, a slow shift beneath the duvet, his arm tightening instinctively around her waist. She was tucked in against him, back to his chest, her legs tangled with his like they'd been shaped to fit there. The warmth between them, shared skin to skin, was the kind that made you forget what cold even felt like.

The season had finally let go of its grip on him. No long flights, no garage calls, no adrenaline slicing through his thoughts. Just quiet. Just her.

She made a soft sound, half-asleep, the kind that made his heart slow in a way the track never could. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, breathing in the scent of sleep and skin, letting it fill every place the noise used to be. His fingertips traced slow circles over her stomach, gentle and unthinking, a rhythm born of knowing exactly where she was without needing to look.

“Mmm,” she murmured, her voice all morning gravel and warmth, “what time is it?”

“Too early to matter,” Oscar whispered back, brushing his lips against her shoulder. “Stay.”

She smiled, he could feel it more than see it, her body curling back even closer into him. Her hand slid along his forearm, threading their fingers together where they rested against her.

“You’re warm,” she said.

“You’re mine,” he replied softly, almost surprised by the tenderness in his own voice.

He closed his eyes and let the quiet wrap around them again, slow, soft, infinite. Just a morning. Just the two of them. And for once, nothing else.

Without realising, in their comfort, the two of them fell asleep again and the next time they stirred, it was later, sunlight a little bolder now, stretching further across the duvet, warming the tops of their bare shoulders. The soft haze of half-sleep still lingered in the air, like it hadn’t quite let go of them yet.

She blinked lazily, her lashes brushing his collarbone as she shifted to face him. His eyes were already open, barely, just watching her, lids heavy, the sleep still sitting behind them.

“Mm. Morning again,” she said, voice hoarse and small.

He gave a quiet hum, smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Think we might’ve broken the record for staying in bed.”

She tucked her face into his chest, laughter muffled. “Good. About time we broke something that didn’t cost millions.”

He chuckled, low, warm. “True. No engineers panicking about this one.”

There was a comfortable pause, the kind only shared by people who knew each other's silences. She let her hand drift across his side, lazy fingertips drawing circles without meaning to.

“You’re not restless?” she asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “Not missing the chaos?”

He tilted his head a little, just enough to kiss the top of hers. “Not right now. Not when I’ve got this.”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, one brow raised, sceptical in that way only she could be while still looking soft. “This being…?”

“You. Us. This duvet. Possibly your ridiculous pyjama shorts,” he said, grinning sleepily as he nudged the hem of them with his knee.

“They’re yours, actually.”

“Ah. Explains the excellent taste.”

She laughed again, this time quietly but properly, and nestled into him like she was trying to disappear into the warmth.

“You’re insufferable,” she murmured.

“Lucky you love me then, isn’t it?” he said, voice gentle, barely teasing.

“Mm. Might do.”

“Might?”

She tilted her chin up just enough to meet his mouth with hers, a slow, sleepy kiss that didn’t try to be anything more. When she pulled away, her lips were curved into a smile.

“Definitely.”

He let out a breath, half a sigh, half a laugh, and held her a little tighter.

Outside, the world could wait.

the end.

taglist: @lilorose25 @curseofhecate @number-0-iz @dozyisdead @dragonfly047 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @sluttyharry30 @n0vazsq @carlossainzapologist @iamred-iamyellow @iimplicitt @geauxharry @hzstry @oikarma @chilling-seavey@the-holy-trinity-l @idc4987 @rayaskoalaland @elieanana@bookishnerd1132@mercurymaxine @obxstiles @dongyeonssimp @gr4cier4cie

[withwritersblock]

When You're Ready

~When You're Ready by Shawn Mendes~

Author's Note: requested! not entirely proud of how this turned out but enjoy! italics are flashbacks as always Summary: Luke drunkenly confesses his feelings for his friend. Warnings: ermmmm idk Word Count: 4,275

Luke was drunk, probably the most drunk he’s been since the frat parties back at UMich. He was leaning against the bar, not sleepy but was definitely feeling dizzy. He was only allowed water because Jack was getting protective over him. 

Jack leaned against the wall, in the corner of the bar beside Luke. His phone was against his ear as he was listening to it ring and ring. 

“Jack?” Y/N let out sleepily.

“Hey! Luke is shitfaced right now, I would offer to take care of him but-” Jack paused as a giggle fell from his lips, “I’m also pretty fucking shitfaced and waiting for my girlfriend,” he explained. 

“Is that Y/N? Can I talk to her!” Luke shot up, a wide grin on his lips. Jack nodded, but kept the phone against his own ear. Luke whined as he reached his hand over. 

“I guess he can stay in my guest room. Just give me like twenty minutes,” she mumbled before she hung up the phone. Jack’s lips curled up into a grin as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Luke lifted up the glass of water and drank a long sip before he cautiously placed it back down onto the counter. “Y/N is taking you back to her place,” Jack offered as he brought his beer towards his lips.

“Aw man, I missed her. We’ve been traveling so much,” Luke offered as he shook his head slowly. His head moved delayed to either direction. 

“Are you going to tell her?” Jack drunkenly let out while he patted his hand against Luke’s back.

“Will not,” he said simply. 

“C’mon!” Jack pleaded as he continued to hit his hand against Luke’s back. “S-see I knew she li-liked you because she’s coming here at-” he trailed off searching for a clock, “What ever time it is.”

“Don’t want to talk about it, let me drink more booze,”

“No, Lukey you’re cut off,” Jack demanded.

“Me? You’re the one sl-slurring your words!” Luke said, pausing he realized he slurred too. The brothers began giggling.

Jack gasped as he scooted back away from the bartop. He smiled widely as he walked quickly towards his girlfriend entering the bar. “My girlfriend!” he let out happily as he shoved passed many drunk people. She giggled loudly as Jack happily wrapped his arms around her pulling her tightly towards him. “Come on, let’s go,” Jack muttered.

“Let’s wait for Y/N to get Luke,” she mumbled as she met his gaze. Jack groaned as he wandered towards Luke. 

Luke lifted his gaze, clenching his jaw as he smiled towards the pair. “He’s pretty drunk,” Luke observed. She rolled her eyes as she leaned against the bar. Jack rested his hand onto her lower back.

“I figured, thanks Luke,” she let out while laughing. 

Y/N was convinced that this party was going to actually ruin her whole mood. She was not a fan of giant crowds, especially a huge crowd of people whom she barely even knew. 

But Courtney was so sure that she would have fun, despite Courtney knowing everyone there. Well she’s only met a handful of the people at the party a few times but her boyfriend knew everyone. Which meant Courtney knew everyone. She never told Y/N who her new mystery man was. Even though the pair had been going on for months at this point. 

Courtney needed it to be secret, so secret that she would never tell anyone. Courtney and Y/N sat in the back seat of the car as they headed towards her boyfriend’s apartment. 

“So we’re going to his place and then the night club? Can’t we meet there?” Y/N groaned as she leaned her head against the headrest. It was safe to say, she was already tipsy and not in the mood for extra work. 

“You have to meet him,” she argued. 

The Uber pulled off to the side of the road, in front of a building that was definitely out of either of their price range. They stepped out of the Uber and Courtney began walking towards the building like it wasn’t her first time. Y/N stayed put as her eyes scanned the building.

“You forgot to mention he was rich,” Y/N mumbled as her gaze finally landed on Courtney.

“He’s not rich, he has money there is a different,” she explained while wrapping her arm around Y/N’s before she guided them towards the entrance.

“I feel like you just said the same thing,” Y/N mumbled while laughing. Courtney rolled her eyes as they stepped inside of the building. 

The walls were dark blue, with white tile on the floor. There was white curtains from the ceiling to the floor. The dark blue couches look like they’ve never been sat on but they were giant.

“Courtney, you can head straight up,” the doorman said excitedly. 

“Thank you, Danny,” she let out happily as she pressed the up button towards the elevator. 

Y/N leaned towards her, “How often are you here?” she whispered.

“Often,” she mumbled. 

The elevator ride was fast as they were only heading up a handful of floors. The fifth floor was the same decor as the lobby but less extravagant. The walk to the apartment was fast as it was only three doors down. She knocked four times. 

After a few seconds, the door was swung open and to Y/N’s surprise it was John Marino. “This is John?” Y/N let out quietly.

The music poured into the hallway. The music was not usual party music but it was loud and music she usually enjoys.

“Hey baby,” John let out as he reached towards Courtney, he wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her towards him, he smiled towards Y/N, “Y/N, it’s great to finally meet you,” John said as he motioned for her to step inside. Slowly, she walked inside beside John and Courtney. 

“Nice to-uh meet you too,” she let out shyly. Her eyes started to scan the room noticing two more Devils players sitting around the room. One with a gorgeous blonde girl in his lap and the other was sitting on a couch by himself. She wished she was not fan girling while in the room but she was. 

Luke Hughes looked up, meeting her gaze. She felt her heart jump in her chest as she met his gaze. His cheeks pinked up but he quickly shifted his gaze down towards his phone. 

Courtney slipped away from John’s grasp and walked back towards Y/N. She wrapped her arm around Y/N’s. “You should’ve brought up the whole Devils player thing,” she whispered, her gaze shifting around the room.

Luke’s eyes widened as a grin formed to his lips. He saw Y/N enter the bar. Jack’s girlfriend wandered towards her, leaving the boys to themselves.

“How bad is it?” Y/N asked teasingly. 

“They’re trashed,” she said simply. Y/N tossed her head back while laughing. 

“Alright, I’ll go take care of Luke,” Y/N let out, a smile on her lips. Jack’s girlfriend’s eyebrows raised as she held a smirk on her lips. “Oh shush,” she muttered as she pushed through the crowd to reach Luke. He was resting his head on his hands, his eyes starting to shut.

A sleepy smirk formed to his lips as his eyes were open slightly. “Y/N, you came!” he let out excitedly. “I’ve missed you,” he let out. She rolled her eyes as she stood in front of him. Resting her hand onto the bartop, she tilted her head to the side to try and meet his gaze. 

Jack and his girlfriend had already slipped out of the bar, leaving Y/N and Luke alone. 

“And you’re in your pajamas,” he observed, his sleepy gaze scanned her frame. Her body was covered with an old thin long sleeve top with a pair of sweatpants. She took a hold of his arm, helping him stand. He leaned against her, using her to help him walk.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” she mumbled as they continued through the bar, shoving through people to go to the entrance.

It was a quick and easy exit out of the bar, her car was parked directly on the street. Luke was still using her to help guide him as he walked. “You’re a great person, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, Luke,” she mumbled while laughing. Slowly pulling away from him, he stood on his own. Stepping back, she tilted her head to the side meeting his gaze. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he leaned his head back. His lips curled upward slightly as he admired her frame. “What?” she let out shyly.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbled. Y/N smiled softly, knowing the words leaving his lips were drunken thoughts. “I meant as a friend, you know like because fri-friends can say that stuff. Can th-they say stuff like that?” he ranted nervously.

“Friends can call each other beautiful,” Y/N said as she met his gaze. He smirked as he ran his tongue across his lips.

“Well then,” he muttered as he took a step towards her, “How come you never called me beautiful?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes playfully as she pursed her lips forward, “You’re very beautiful, Luke,” she let out. His lips curled up into a toothy grin.

“Thank you,” he sing-songed. 

She met his gaze and watched the drunkenness take over in his eyes. With each blink it was evident he was getting more and more exhausted. She ran her fingers through her hair as she pointed towards the passenger seat door.

“You going to get in the car?” she asked him teasingly. He took a small step towards her. Biting his bottom lip, he was taking in a deep breath. “I mean I did practically carry you out of the bar,”

“You did not,” 

“I absolutely did, walk in a straight line right now,” she let out laughing. He straightened his body as he confidently walking towards the passenger seat of the car. 

His steps were definitely not in a straight line but as he leaned against the car door, he nodded proudly. 

“Wow, that was horrible,” she teased. 

Dropping his gaze to the concrete, he shook his head while chuckling. “Yeah, n-not my best work,” he said as he flung his head back up. He pulled on the door handle, opening the door. Smiling towards him she excitedly walked around towards the driver’s side of the car.

Y/N sat down on the couch beside Courtney. Her and John were not sitting close, almost on purpose to push her towards Luke. He lifted his gaze from his phone a handful of times to meet her gaze. Shyly, she avoided his eye as much as possible.

It started to feel like a set up. Everyone was in their own couple. It left Luke and Y/N to talk. Except they were not doing much talking.

Y/N was still freaking out that she was sat beside him and he was freaking out because if Jack and John were setting him up with someone, she could’ve been a little less hot. 

A little less intimidating because he couldn’t focus.

Or maybe it was because there was too much alcohol in his system, he couldn’t tell.

He knew he would get made fun of for the whole night if he didn’t speak to her but right now it was too intimate. 

“Okay, our Ubers are here,” Jack jumped up, keeping his hand loosely around his girlfriend’s waist. 

John did the same thing. Luke and Y/N stood up, sharing awkward glances. They both started walking towards the exit, side by side.

Reaching towards the door, he pulled it open, she smiled politely towards him. He slowly shut the door behind him and they continued down the hallway.

“Are we being set up?” she asked, pointing her finger between herself and him. Luke let out a nervous chuckle as he shoved his hands into his pocket.

“I wish I knew,” Luke rolled his eyes playfully, “With those two who knows.”

He pressed his lips together as he met her gaze for a few seconds. 

“I wish I knew my roommate was dating one of you guys, that would have been a nice heads up,” she explained.

“Wait, Court and John have been together for almost four months and you had no idea,” Luke questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded dramatically. “How did you not know, you guys live together?” he let out while laughing. 

She took a deep breath as she fought the smirk forming to her lips, “It just so happens that I grew up a huge Devils fan,” she mumbled. Luke’s eyes widened as he grinned. 

“Oh so you’ve been silently freaking out since you stepped into the door,” he teased.

“Have not,” she muttered crossing her arms over her chest.

“You want an autograph?” he teased. She shoved him away from her while laughing.

She happily sat down in the driver seat and quickly turned on her car. Heat blasted through the vents to warm the cold air inside of the car. Luke was watching her every move, his eyes dragged as he scanned her frame.

She stared towards her phone as she tried to find the perfect playlist. She played her own favorites mix before she rested it into an empty cup holder. Putting the car into drive, she pulled away from the bar. 

“You need my address?” he asked before swallowing hard. She glanced towards him, smirking slightly before she looked back towards the road. He pressed his lips together while shutting his eyes.

“I think I got it,” she let out laughing.

Furrowing his eyebrows harshly, he tilted his head back against the headrest, “I can’t believe you went to the bar in your pajamas,”

Her mouth fell open as she fought off the grin forming to her lips, ‘Clearly you’ve forgotten, I was asleep!”

“Right,” he muttered. He stared towards his hands as he took in long breaths. She pulled up to a red light, shifting her gaze towards him. 

“What’s on your mind?” she mumbled. He shrugged as he continued to stare down towards his lap, “Luke?” she asked again. 

It was a fast friendship. It seemed like out of no where they were inseparable. Ever since that night at the club, where they drunkenly danced together the whole night they’ve been inseparable. 

Tonight was no different, Luke was coming home from a game where they lost. He was not in a great mood but he knew that Y/N could make him feel better. Ever since he met her, he found himself gravitating towards her whenever he was in a bad mood. Whenever he was sad she made him feel better. 

He texted her that he was waiting outside of her apartment and she happily shot up from her couch. She walked towards the door pulling it open to reveal Luke. He was wearing a hoodie and a pair of sweats as he walked inside, holding his arms open.  She smiled towards him as he wrapped his arms around him. Sinking into his chest, she let the door shut behind him. 

“Is Courtney here?” he asked as he rested his hand onto the back of her head as he caressed her hair. Shaking her head, she slowly pulled away from him. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” 

“Always,” she mumbled as she met his gaze for a few seconds before she began to walk backwards towards her bedroom, “Let’s watch a movie,” 

His lips curled upward into a small smile as he followed after her, digging his hands deep into her pocket. He followed after her, his gaze trailing her frame as she guided him towards her bedroom.

She pushed the door open as she dropped down onto the bed. Luke stood in the doorway, admiring her from the small distance. 

“You can lay down y’know,” she teased as she patted the empty space beside her. 

He walked around the bed and cautiously laid down beside her.

“Any recommendations?” she offered as she met his gaze. He pouted his lips forward as he shook his head. He turned his body to the side, facing her. Looking down towards him, she turned her head to the side as she felt her lips curl upward. 

“Harry Potter?” he asked softly.

Furrowing her eyebrows she shifted her body towards him. They laid face to face, their noses nearly bumping one another with how close they are.

“You can’t just watch a Harry Potter movie, you have to watch them all,” she offered as she found her gaze lowering towards his lips.

“I don’t have plans tomorrow,” he offered teasingly. 

“You know, I think you’re beautiful in like a not a-a friend way,” Luke let out, he lifted his gaze to meet her eye. Her eyes widened slightly as she continued to look into his eye. “That’s obvious to you right?” Luke let out.

She took a deep breath as she watched the light turn green through the corner of her eye. She began to speed ahead with her heart beating faster and faster. “Luke, you know, I don’t have time for a relationship right now. With work and school, I barely have time for a social life-”

“I know, which is why I never said anything.” he let out, he swallowed hard as he shyly shifted his gaze down towards his lap. He took a deep breath, “I know I’m drunk or whatever but you’re literally everything I’ve ever wanted, you know that?”

She took a right turn into the parking garage beneath his apartment. “Luke,”

“I’m serious-”

“You won’t even remember this conversation tomorrow,” 

“When you’re ready or when you think you have time for one, I’m right ‘ere,” he explained as he lifted his gaze again. She pulled into a guest parking spot and quickly put the car into park. “I’ll always be waiting for you because you cannot tell me you don’t feel the same way. You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to kiss me,” 

“Luke-” 

“But if it’s forever that I have to wait for you, I’ll wait because you are worth waiting a lifetime for,” he further explained as he looked deeply into her eyes. She took a deep breath as she pressed her lips together.

“You don’t know what you’re saying right now,” she expressed as she turned her body to face him.

“I know exactly what I’m saying because I haven’t stopped thinking about it for months. I mean come on, Y/N, look me in the eye and tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind,” 

“You know I can’t,” she mumbled. 

“So whenever you’re ready, I’m waiting,” he said as he leaned his head against the window.

“Let’s get you up to bed and then when you’re sober let’s have this conversation,” she explained as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door harshly. Luke unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car. 

He stumbled out of the car, nearly falling over. “See-” she barked out a laugh, “How am I supposed to take you seriously when you are this drunk!” she took a hold of his arm, he looked down towards her as he allowed her to guide him towards the elevator.

~

The walk towards the apartment was fast while getting Luke ready for bed was another story. He kept making jokes about her taking his clothes off and helping him get into a pair of sweats to help him get comfortable. Or chug a bottle of water and eat a handful of snacks.

He laid beneath the comforter, shirtless and whining. “You have to stay,” he called out, reaching his hands towards her. Letting him take a hold of her hand, he interlocked their fingers. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel her heart flutter at the sudden touch.

“Luke, I want to sleep in my own bed,” she told him as she looked into his eyes. 

“But you’ve slept in my bed before, what’s wrong with doing that tonight? I me-mean you’re already in your pajamas it’s perfect,” he explained, swinging their hands.

“Well you brought up some things that make this weird,” 

“Only weird if you make it weird,” he offered teasingly. She took a deep breath as she continued to look into his eyes, they squinted slightly as he leaned his head back against the head board.

“You’re the one that made this weird, by the way,” she said sarcastically as she climbed over him to lay beside him in the bed. Slowly, she climbed under the comforter and rolled onto her side to meet his gaze. 

“I just put the truth into the universe,” he teased while pursing his lips forward. She rolled her eyes dramatically as she rolled onto her back.

“Good night Luke,” she mumbled. He took in a sharp breath as he fell onto his back as well. 

“Good night,”

~~~

The following morning, Y/N woke up before Luke. She tiptoed out of the bedroom towards the living room. Which was always surprisingly clean. It was early enough, she figured Luke would be asleep for several more hours, especially with how drunk he was towards the end of the night.

She walked into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, it wasn’t the first time she would wake up before Luke and make herself at home. Luke would be more upset if he found out she stayed in bed waiting for him to wake up to get ready for the day.

She leaned back against the counter as she watched the Kurig pour into the small red mug. Her mind wandered around the words Luke said last night. There was no way Luke would remember everything he said. 

Maybe he would remember some of it but she was convinced he didn’t. She barely had time to spend with him as a friend let alone the effort a relationship has to have.

She couldn’t put that effort in right now, but was he genuine with saying he would wait? She didn’t want a relationship until after school, she still had a year and a hlaf left.

She took the cup from the Kurig and she secured it with both of her hands as she wandered towards the couch. 

It was another hour of her scrolling on her phone and finishing her cup of coffee when Luke stumbled out of the room. His hair was slightly messy but he did not look worse for wear. He stood at the start of the hallway, watching her for a moment.

Lifting her gaze she saw him standing there, she brought her hand towards her chest as she giggled. “Scared the hell out of me,” she muttered.

“Sorry,” he let out as he walked towards her. He sat down beside her, keeping a whole cushion between them. 

They stayed silent for a moment as they let the awkward tension fill the air. 

She swallowed hard as she delicately placed the mug onto the coffee table, “So, how hungover are you?” she questioned, trying to break some of the tension.

He chuckled as he ran his hand across his chin, “Actually not that bad,” he mumbled. She nodded as she kept her gaze towards her lap. He pressed his lips together as he took another deep breath, “I’m waiting,” he let out as he tilted his head to the side. She furrowed her eyebrows. He smirked as he looked into her eyes. 

“Oh, yeah, that conversation we had last night; that you swore I wasn’t going to remember. I remember every word-well okay, not every word but I remember it all-most of it. So-um I guess it’s-yeah you’re turn,” he ranted.

She smiled as she continued to look into his eye as she took in a sharp breath as she stood up from the couch and walked towards him. Standing over him, she started to climb into his lap. He leaned back, cautiously hovering his hands in the air. 

“I don’t know about a relationship,” she began as she rested her hands on the base of his neck, her thumbs grazing the side of his neck briefly. “But I’ve been dying to kiss you,” she muttered. He smiled as she leaned towards him, kissing him urgently.

The kiss was electrifying as Luke finally rested his hands onto her hips. Leaning into him, the kiss was everything that either of them were waiting for. 

“Yet,” she muttered against his lips.

“What?” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, desperate to feel her lips against his again. She returned the kiss for a few seconds before she pulled away.

“Can you wait a little longer?” she mumbled against his lips.

“Can we at least do this?” he pleaded. She leaned towards him kissing him urgently, pulling his bottom lip into her mouth as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

They stayed in that position for a long time as they were enjoying being that close to one another. It didn’t matter that Jack was probably on his way back or that friends with benefits was always a bad idea or that anything in between friends and lovers was a horrible idea. Right now all that mattered was that their lips were connected and that they both felt the same.

[kochslut]

𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫╰┈➤ cooper koch

playing: treat you better by shawn mendes

synopsis: after a painful betrayal, you find comfort in your best friend, cooper, who tries to show you he can treat you better than your ex ever did. torn between the fear of ruining the friendship and the growing attraction you feel for him, you both face the tension between friendship and love, with an uncertain future but full of possibilities.

paring: cooper koch x reader

warnings: cheating, emotional abuse, detailed intimate interaction, oral sex, +18

It was late at night, and you were at home, your face wet with tears you couldn’t hold back. The image of Luke, your boyfriend, with another girl kept replaying in your mind, and the pain of betrayal felt unbearable. Your chest tightened, and the emptiness inside you grew with every passing second. You knew you couldn't be alone in this moment, not now. Without thinking too much, you grabbed your phone and called Cooper, your best friend. He picked up after a few rings, his voice rough from sleep but clearly filled with concern.

"Coops…" your voice came out weak, almost a whisper choked by tears. "I… I need you."

On the other line, Cooper sighed, and you knew he was already tired of all the mess Luke had been putting you through. He always said that guy wasn’t good enough for you, and now it seemed like all his worries were coming true. "Y/N, I'm on my way. Just hang tight," he said, not even giving you a chance to argue. Before you could respond, the call had ended, and you knew he’d be at your door in just a few minutes.

Sure enough, minutes later, the doorbell rang. You opened it to find Cooper standing there, concern etched across his face, holding a paper bag in one hand. He didn’t need to ask anything; one look at your face and he knew exactly what had happened. Without a word, he stepped inside and gently pulled you into a tight hug, letting you cry into his shoulder.

“I brought your favorites,” he said softly, lifting the bag with a few of your favorite sweets, but all you could do was sob against his chest.

He led you to the couch, never letting go of your hand, and sat down beside you, opening the little treats and offering one to you. "Try to eat a little, it'll help," he suggested, but you shook your head, unable to even think about food in that moment. Cooper sighed softly and rubbed his hand gently along your arm. “Y/N, I know it hurts right now, but you deserve so much better than this, you know that? He… he wasn’t the right guy for you.” His voice was calm, but there was a quiet intensity in his words, as if he’d said it a thousand times in his head already.

You lifted your tear-streaked face to look at him, wiping the wetness away with the back of your hand. He looked at you deeply, his eyes full of understanding, but there was something else there, something you couldn’t quite figure out. "I know it’s hard to accept now, but I know he's just not right for you, and you can tell me if I'm off. But I see it on your face. He hurts you, Y/N, and I can’t stand by watching you get torn apart by someone who doesn’t see your worth." Cooper’s words hit you hard, but they also felt like a balm to the pain. There was something about him that always soothed you, and even in the middle of the emotional chaos you were in, his presence made everything feel just a little more bearable.

Minutes turned into hours as you talked—or rather, as Cooper spoke and you just listened, enjoying the comfort of having someone by your side who truly cared. He shared funny stories, embarrassing childhood moments, and even some memories from school that made you smile through the tears. The soft light of the room seemed to dance, creating a cozy atmosphere, and slowly, the pain of betrayal began to fade just a little. As the night went on, you realized that even with a heavy heart, Cooper's presence beside you brought unexpected comfort. He had always been there for you.

When the conversation shifted towards your insecurities and the confused feelings that consumed you, Cooper leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "You have so much to offer, Y/N. Don’t let someone who can’t see that make you forget it. You deserve someone who recognizes how incredible you are," he said, his voice full of sincerity that made your stomach flutter.

A warmth started to spread through you. It was admirable how Cooper looked at you with respect, and a wave of gratitude washed over you. You smiled, trying to hide the mix of emotions stirring inside. "Thank you, Coops. That really means a lot," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. You noticed something different in the way Cooper spoke—maybe it was the vulnerability of the moment, but for a second, you wished he was the one for you.

He smiled back, and in that instant, something sparked. You realized that even in the midst of the pain and confusion you felt for your boyfriend, Cooper was there, ready to support you. The tension between you grew, and for a moment, silence filled the room. You thought about how his presence brightened the darkness surrounding you.

"You really are an amazing friend, you know?" you said, a slight smile on your lips. His friendship was something you treasured, and you couldn’t forgive yourself if you crossed that line with him.

"I just want the best for you, Y/N. Always," he replied, the sincerity in his voice resonating deeply in your heart.

It was like his words echoed a truth you didn’t want to ignore. As the night wore on, the idea that Cooper could be more than just a friend began to take shape in your mind, and you felt a mix of hope and nervousness for what might come next.

The clock on the wall showed it was much later than you thought. The house was quiet, and you could feel the fatigue setting in. The warmth and safety of Cooper’s company surrounded you, and the idea of being alone that night felt unsettling.

With hesitation, you looked into his eyes, searching for the courage you needed. "Cooper..." your voice came out soft, almost a whisper. "Would you… would you mind staying with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone."

He paused from fiddling with the sweets, his gaze soft and understanding. "Are you sure, Y/N?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I really want you to stay," you insisted, vulnerability lacing your tone. "Your presence… it helps."

A smile spread across Cooper's face, and he nodded, "Of course, I’ll stay."

"I’m going to run a bath," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. You didn’t want to show any signs of nervousness. "After, if you want to take one too, feel free."

Cooper nodded again, his eyes following your movements as if he wanted to make sure you were okay. He stayed in the living room while you headed upstairs to your room, the soft sound of your footsteps fading down the hallway. In the bathroom, the hot water felt soothing, easing some of the tension, but it didn’t calm the confusion swirling in your mind.

After getting dressed, you went back downstairs to find Cooper sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. When he saw you, he stood up, and the air between you felt thick with unspoken words. "If you want, the bathroom is free now," you said, trying to sound casual, but there was something in the air that made it hard to act natural.

He just nodded, silent as always, and went up to freshen up while you tried to gather your thoughts. Minutes later, he came down, the fresh scent of soap filling the space, bringing an unexpected sense of comfort. You both headed up to your room, where the soft light of the lamp was still on. The bed looked huge but somehow inviting. When you lay down, Cooper hesitated for a moment before joining you, lying beside you. The space between you felt too small, and even in silence, there was an invisible current connecting you two.

For a moment, you just stared at the ceiling, as if the words were stuck, waiting for the right moment to be said. He slowly turned to you, the mattress sinking slightly beside him. His hand slid to yours, fingers intertwining in a calm, almost hesitant way. He took a deep breath before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully.

"I never understood, you know? How you could settle for so little… when you’re so much." His voice was rough, full of honesty that made your chest tighten. "You don’t deserve someone who makes you doubt who you are. You never did." He squeezed your hand gently, and you finally looked at him. The look in Cooper's eyes was intense but not angry. It was filled with concern, with care. There was something there you had never noticed before, as if he was trying to show you something you had always refused to see.

"I know I can treat you better than he can, Y/N," he continued, his voice heavy. "And I know you’re still hurting now, but look at me…" He hesitated, searching for your gaze. "Any person like you deserves a gentleman. I always said that."

Those words made you lose yourself for a moment. Cooper had always been there, always taking care of you, but there was something in the way he said it now that felt deeper.

"I’m not here to say I’m perfect, or that I can fix all your problems." Cooper swallowed hard, the tension in the air growing as the truth came out. "But I know I can treat you better. Because seeing you like this, broken, hurts. And I’d do anything to keep you from suffering like that again."

Was that a confession? There was a raw sincerity in each word, no grand promises, no games— just the truth. He looked at you so intensely that you felt exposed, as if all the walls you had built were coming down.

"Cooper, I…" The words wouldn’t come. Your heart raced too fast, and you felt your face heat up. "I don’t know what to say."

He didn’t let go of your hand; he just held it tighter, his eyes burning with an intensity you’d never seen before. His touch, the way his thumb brushed against the back of your hand, stirred something within you. It felt familiar yet completely new.

"You don’t have to say anything right now," he whispered, his voice low but filled with meaning. "I just want you to know that I’m always here. I always have been."

The silence between you thickened, charged with emotions that felt electric in the air. Your heart raced, and suddenly, you realized that his body was closer than before. His warmth was almost tangible, and you could feel his breath—slow and steady—while yours was uneven.

You tried to look away, to fight against the thoughts flooding your mind, but it was useless. Cooper’s fingers intertwined with yours felt like an anchor, and every delicate gesture he made seemed to spark sensations you had never felt so vividly. Your best friend, always so steady, so constant. But now, in that room with the soft light illuminating your faces, everything felt different. And you didn’t know if you were ready to face what that meant.

"I just… don’t understand how things got so complicated," you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

He let out a low, almost bitter yet soft laugh. "Love doesn’t have to be complicated, Y/N."

That phrase shattered something inside you, as if finally, something had been revealed. The weight of his closeness, his touch, his warmth… it all made you question what else you had overlooked. You could smell him, feel his strong presence, and the tension in the air was palpable for both of you. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes drifted to his lips, and you mentally reprimanded yourself for it. What was happening to you? It was as if an invisible force was pulling you closer, and every second beside him heightened that feeling.

Cooper noticed your gaze fixated on his lips, and a playful smile formed on his face. "I don’t bite, if you want to get closer… I wouldn’t mind," he said, laughter escaping his lips, light and teasing. Instantly, you felt embarrassed, your cheeks burning a deep red. That feeling of awkwardness only intensified the tension between you. The atmosphere grew charged, and his laughter echoed in the room as his eyes remained locked on yours. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the idea of moving closer made you both nervous and excited.

"Cooper, this isn’t…" you began, but the words faltered. You didn’t know how to explain what was happening, how he made you feel confused and exhilarated.

"It’s just a joke," he replied, but there was a spark in his eyes that made it clear he felt the same electricity. "If you want to, of course." The teasing in his tone made you bite your lower lip, trying to suppress a smile that threatened to appear. The tension grew, and you felt a wave of courage wash over you. It was as if the line between friendship and something more was blurring, and you wanted to explore this new territory.

Without a second thought, you moved a little closer, the distance between you shrinking. Cooper’s expression changed, and you saw surprise flicker in his eyes, as if he were questioning whether you would actually do this. But he didn’t pull back; instead, he leaned slightly in your direction, as if inviting you to take the lead. The pounding of both your hearts was almost deafening. Expectation hung in the air, and you found yourself holding your breath. Your gazes locked once more, and it felt like the world around you faded away. All that existed were the two of you, suspended in a bubble of possibilities.

"Are you sure about this?" Cooper asked, you could feel his breath growing closer to yours, his voice soft yet heavy with desire. The question felt more like an invitation than a doubt.

"I… I think so," you replied, feeling the vulnerability in your words, but there was something more there, a rising determination. Without another word, you decided to let yourself go. With an almost involuntary movement, your lips met his. The kiss started softly, hesitantly, as if you were both trying to understand what it meant. But soon the hesitation gave way to urgency, to the need to draw even closer.

Cooper pulled you nearer, his hands firm on your waist as you got lost in him. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, and you didn’t want to pull away. Your bodies molded against each other, each touch sending shivers down your spine. The kiss deepened, the tension that had once been almost invisible now transforming into a fiery connection. It was as if all the confusion and pain you had felt before evaporated, leaving only pure, true desire.

When you finally broke apart, both of your breaths were ragged, your eyes meeting with a mix of surprise and joy. Cooper smiled, that smile that made your heart race. "I… wow," you murmured, still dazed.

"See? I didn’t bite," he joked, the lightness returning to his tone, but the intensity in his gaze remained. It wasn’t long before you found yourself enveloped in his kisses again, and he seemed surprised. So much time waiting for you, for your touch, and now it felt magical.

The intensity of the kiss wrapped around you like a warm cloak, and Cooper seemed to absorb every moment with careful calmness. He gently pulled you even closer, now there was no distance between you both. His fingers glided softly over your waist, while his other hand caressed your face, as if he were trying to imprint every detail into his memory. His touch was gentle, but there was a strong connection pulsing between you, a growing desire that was barely contained. As your lips moved together in a smooth, deep rhythm, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He pressed your body against his, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

He explored your neck with gentle kisses, his lips gliding over your exposed skin, and the sensation was exquisite. Every touch made your mind spin, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations you had never experienced before. He was being careful and attentive, always paying attention to your reactions, as if he was making sure you were comfortable even while the passion was already stronger than you could handle.

With a smooth movement, he pulled you on top of him, you had your crotch very close to his, and he had his hands sliding down your back as the intensity between you grew. The way he held you was protective, but at the same time full of desire. Your bodies moved in harmony, each movement resonating with an echo of a repressed passion that had finally found freedom. You could feel Cooper’s dick rubbing against your thigh. You still couldn't believe it was real.

The best friend? what a cliché.

The kisses became more urgent, deeper, as if you wanted to merge into one being. The man explored every curve, every contour, and you let yourself be carried away, surrendering to the moment. The mix of affection and passion was electrifying, and each touch seemed to ignite a flame inside you.

When he pulled away for a moment, his gaze was intense. Cooper leaned in, sealing your lips again in a kiss that said more than words could express. You knew that moment was just the beginning of something much bigger.

"Can I take off your clothes?" The request was barely a whisper, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race. You felt a shiver run through your skin, a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Unable to find words, you just nodded. It was as if, from that moment on, all his fears and insecurities disappeared.

Gently, Cooper raised his hands and began to pull at his clothes. He did it slowly, as if he wanted to appreciate every second, every little detail. The touch of his fingers on your skin was soft, and a wave of heat ran through your body as you felt the cold air touch your exposed skin. His gaze was fixed on you, full of admiration and desire, and in that moment, you felt more alive than ever. Cooper seemed to respect every part of your being, every nuance of your vulnerability. He moved even closer, his hands caressing your torso, exploring every curve with a delicacy that was both electrifying and calming.

As his hands slid across your skin, you gave yourself over completely, feeling the connection between you grow stronger. Cooper moved slowly, his actions full of intention, each touch an invitation to explore the depths of it. His breathing was labored as he watched you, as if he was trying to burn that moment into his memory. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, and the way he touched you awakened a desire in you that seemed to have been dormant for so long.

His gaze intensified, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both soft and fiery. There was a seething passion, but also a tenderness that made it even more special. You felt completely enveloped by him, and the anxiety that once dominated you now turned into something delicious. Cooper's hands were all over your body, he caressed you while lightly squeezing your skin.

In some moment of courage, you started to move your hips towards him and were satisfied when you heard him make light moans during the kiss. That man was driving you insane, you no longer had any doubts that you wanted more from him; of that moment. As if in fright, you moved a little, putting your hand inside his shorts and stroking his erect member through his underwear.

He looked at you with wide eyes and you gave him a friendly look, as if to say everything was okay. It seems that this was confirmation for what you would do from now on, because you got off of him and tried to remove his clothes, who soon helped you. There was a half-naked Cooper on top of your bed, his penis looks like it would tear his underwear at any moment and you were the only one who could help him at that moment. And without any shame, that's what you did.

"Stand up." his ordination sent a shiver down the back of Cooper's neck and he did so without dissent. With the man standing, you began a difficult kiss, perhaps due to the difference in height, but it didn't last long; You soon started distributing kisses even close to his genitals. His underwear was quickly removed and you couldn't help but swallow hard at the sight of his member without anything covering it.

Cooper gave a perverted smile "Don't choke, y/n", he said in a teasing tone. Well, you weren't a loser, you weren't going to leave your best friend there with that victorious smile on your face. You gave him a wink and squatted down, coming face to face with that man's genitals. You couldn't help but wonder if you could really handle it, was it too big or were you just unaccustomed to your ex-boyfriend's small dick?

So, amidst not at all favorable thoughts, you placed your mouth on his member, who quickly entered a greater state of excitement upon feeling you. He can't help but grab your hair, helping you move back and forth. While keeping your mouth around the entire head of his cock, you ran your tongue over his glans, which made Cooper let out a hoarse moan.

He rocked back and forth as his mouth did all the work down there. You ran your tongue up and down, now using your hand to help with masturbation, trying to feel every part of that man who was there just for you and for you.

His breathing oscillated with each contact your tongue had with his penis, you noticed this and felt increasingly confident in continuing with the sliding movements. You could already feel him inside your throat, pressing so hard that you would probably not speak for some time.

It was hard to tell if Cooper was aware of how big he was, because he was forcing your head forward, making you gag a few times. He was already throbbing in your mouth and you tried to keep control of the situation, taking his hand carefully and removing it from your head. You wrap his penis in your hand and slowly slip your lips around and over it. Your tongue moves slowly under the ridge and around the tip in a figure 8. With Cooper standing, you run the outside of your teeth up and down the underside of his penis, moaning with his penis in your throat, lightly caressing his thighs.

He tried to say something between moans and trembles. "Y/N…" his voice came out shaky and you felt a shiver when you heard him say your name at that moment. "I want to cum with you." He moved back, interrupting the continuation of the blowjob.

You stared at him with watery eyes after a few sessions of gagging. "You're the boss, today." And you smiled at him, and he couldn't help but laugh and think about those words, perhaps the best choice of words you can give a man at that moment.

He took your hands and pulled you back up, the difference in size between you was striking. He felt like your protector, you were so fragile today. All he wanted was to take care of you and… well, he was doing it masterfully. He bent down a little and placed a long kiss on your lips, placing his hands on your back and feeling the soft skin that covered you. He didn't want to be rough with you, not today. Not with such a delicate moment, today he wanted to be a gentleman, kind… He couldn't see himself treating you roughly - even though that man wanted to throw you on the bed with all his strength and fuck you until you begged him to stop.

Now, he lightly lowered his lips to your collarbone, leaving wet kisses there. Your neck had now become his domain, he kissed every part and in some he gave light bites. You were breathing roughly, you were embarrassed to moan at that moment. You didn't want to seem like a poor and desperate bitch, even though you knew that Cooper would never think that of his best friend. The connection between you was unbreakable, and, as those kisses on your neck intensified, you knew that desire and vulnerability were intertwined, and you were ready to explore all the nuances of that new reality.

He ran his warm tongue over your collarbone for the last time, causing a strong shiver to run through your body. Now, he had picked you up effortlessly and laid you down on the bed, the way he looked at you made you blush. It was all unbelievable. He was sitting on a corner of the bed, giving him complete freedom of your body. He started another kiss that ended near your underwear. He stared at you as if asking if he could.

"Today I'm yours." You said in a pleasant tone, making him even more excited than he already was. Today you were his.

He removed the piece of clothing that prevented you from being completely naked and threw it somewhere in the room. Nothing mattered at that moment. You wanted him inside you. You wanted to feel him, have him. And as if he were reading your mind, Cooper put his mouth on your genitals; his warm tongue ran all over your intimate area, making you arch your back more and more. His mouth was all over you, as if he was devouring you. He wanted to taste more and more of you. He felt like a hunter with prey in his hands. Today he had you and he wanted to make the most of it.

Cooper's hands were holding your thighs, as if he were stopping you from leaving. He was squeezing you, but not tightly, it was more like a way of showing that he still had a certain dominance while being so tied to you. His fingers dragged along your walls, eliciting increasingly loud moans from you.

"You're already dripping," he said, caressing the entire length of your arousal. Now, his fingers were helping him with the work while his tongue continued to play over your genitals. The touches were almost hesitant, as if they were both exploring the limits of their shared desire. Their ragged breathing filled the air. His fingers followed a slow path, gradually discovering the areas of greatest sensitivity and a shiver ran through your body, each movement increasing the heat that spread through both of you.

His hands carried a firmness that made each second seem eternal. There was a care in his gestures, but also an urgent need to surrender completely to that moment. Your parted lips let out a sigh, as your hips moved along with Cooper's fingers you could feel a different sensation. It was almost certain that you wouldn't last long there, not with that man touching you like that. And he knew it because he started to increase his speed, staring at you from below. And when you exploded in his mouth, he knew he had done a good job.

You were panting, he enjoyed having you completely surrendered, now he knew your weak and sensitive points even more. Now he knew you better than anyone, and he hoped that you could truly surrender yourself only to him. That was what he wanted most.

"Do you have lube and a condom?" he said when he realized that you had already relaxed. In fact, now he wanted more than anything to feel you inside. He didn't usually use lube, but since he had already decided that he would treat you docilely today, he preferred to ask before trying anything else.

"I think there must be some in the drawer, I'll get it" you got up from the bed and went towards your wardrobe. He watched you open some drawers until you found a purple tube and some small packages, which he soon identified as what he had asked for. You approached and handed everything to him, who graced you with a smile.

"Lie down." He asked and you obeyed, lying down on the bed and watching him put the condom on his penis without difficulty. He soon approached you and placed the contents of the bottle at your entrance. The liquid was cold, making you let out a soft sigh. He was careful as he penetrated you, entering you slowly and asking a few times if he was hurting you, which you denied. In a fright, you could already feel the sensation of being filled by Cooper, he moved back and forth while leaning on the bed.

His cock slid inside you with shocking ease, it was as if your bodies belonged to each other. With each thrust you moaned in unison, transforming the room into your private world. Your breathing quickened as he entered you more deeply. The movements were slow and rhythmic, but the pressure increased, the desire intensified. The caresses explored your skin and the most sensitive areas, provoking visceral reactions that echoed through your mind and body. The emotional connection was as strong as the physical one, creating a fusion of pleasure and surrender.

Muffled moans filled the room, desire taking over both of you. As the temperature increased, the rhythm also intensified, your bodies giving in completely to the mutual pleasure, feeling each wave of ecstasy grow and spread like an invisible current. He let out a few inaudible curses and you scratched his back, it was already impossible to measure the strength at that moment. All you were focused on was giving that man what he wanted.

Without warning, Cooper pulled out of you and managed to turn you around so that your back was facing him. Now you were face down and he started to penetrate you again. One hand was holding onto the bed and the other was running down your back, exploring with more confidence, sliding gently over your skin, knowing every inch with instinctive precision. Your body responded to his touch almost immediately. The pressure of his fingers intensified on the back of your neck, causing deep sighs and muffled moans that escaped without control.

The heat between you grew rapidly, and desire took over every movement, your body reacting in an impulse of pure need. Your skin seemed to pulse under his touch, and the rhythm that formed between you was as much a dance as a battle between self-control and surrender. Cooper moved with a mixture of firmness and gentleness, provoking sensations that ran like sparks through your body. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, closer and closer, more and more connected.

Each movement was more intense than the last, and the touch on the most intimate parts made your body react with spasms of pure ecstasy. The caresses were deep, exploring every nuance, every inch of skin and every area of ​​sensitivity. Your entire body was on alert, responding to each new touch, each new movement. The heat rose unbearably, and the proximity of your bodies made it clear that neither of you wanted to stop. The rhythm increased, the touches became more intense, bolder, as if they both knew exactly where and how to provoke the strongest reaction.

The intensity of the touch between the two of them kept growing, their bodies adjusting in search of greater proximity. With a firm movement, he guided you so that they changed positions. He sat on the bed and pulled you so that you sat on top of him, positioning yourself on his penis. Now, his hands explored your back, slowly moving down, making your breath hitch. He slid his hands around your waist, moving up your torso, while you tilted your head back, giving in to his touch.

He pulled you closer, the direct contact with his body increasing the tension. Your movements were now instinctive, natural. Cooper's hands continued to explore, his touches firmer and more precise, while you felt your desire grow with each second. Your mouths met again, with more urgency, the kiss deepening the heat that already dominated both of you. Your hands, which had been hesitant before, now moved confidently over his body, exploring every muscle, feeling his warm skin against your fingers. Your breaths mingled, the air between them filled with desire and expectation. Cooper held you firmly, controlling the rhythm, but still giving her space to lead what came next.

The change of position left them completely surrendered to the moment, each touch, each sigh making the desire rise even more. Her body moved deliberately, seeking pleasure with precision. The bed creaked under their weight. The sound of heavy breathing and moans of pleasure echoed as your bodies moved together, growing in intensity. Each touch, each movement, was a path of no return; both were in a state of ecstasy, that sensation was completely different from anything they had ever experienced.

The movements intensified, each brush of skin raised the desire to an almost unbearable level. Your body, still in his lap, moved with precision, and Cooper responded with firm hands on your waist, guiding you, the two of you completely in tune. The heat between you seemed to dominate everything around you, overshadowing any thought beyond that moment. You could feel Cooper's breath against your skin, panting, as he leaned in, gently biting your shoulder, each gesture increasing the electricity that ran between you. Your body reacted to each touch, and he could no longer control the moans that escaped, filling the silence of the room.

Cooper tilted his head back, his eyes closed for a brief moment, focused on the pleasure that was rapidly building. The tension between them was reaching its peak, and he could feel his body throbbing against his, both completely surrendered to the moment. The rhythm was accelerating, each movement bringing them closer to climax, the accumulated pleasure ready to explode. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, accelerating until the final moment. When the climax came, it was like an uncontrollable wave that took over both of them. You contracted in a spasm of pleasure, followed by his, who held your waist tightly, the two of you completely losing yourself in each other.

For a moment, time seemed to stop, your bodies still shuddering with the last waves of pleasure. Silence returned to the room, broken only by the heavy breathing of both of them. Cooper held you firmly, but tenderly, as if he was still processing what had just happened. You lay down with your head on his shoulder, exhausted, but with your heart racing, your body still warm, feeling the last remnants of that moment. The two of you stayed there for a few moments, enjoying the newfound intimacy, the silence filled with everything you had experienced.

Memories of what had just happened swirled in your mind, and shame began to set in. Awkwardly, you rolled to the side, lying next to him on the bed, pulling the sheets up to cover part of your body. Cooper chuckled softly at your expression, clearly embarrassed, and turned to the side, resting his arm around your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

"You look adorable when you're blushing, you know?" he commented, his voice low and still a little hoarse, with a relaxed smile on his face.

You huffed, looking up at the ceiling. "Cooper, please, no… That was… I don't know…" Your voice was hesitant, as if you were trying to find the right words, but failing miserably.

He chuckled again, clearly more at ease with the situation. "I know that was… unexpected. But it was good. Really good." He made sure to emphasize the last part, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "There's no need to be like this. We're fine."

Your heart was racing, but you didn't know if it was because of the intimacy you had just shared or the uncertainty of what was to come. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to process everything. Cooper was so relaxed, almost happy, while you were still trying to sort out your own feelings.

"I just… need some time to think," you said finally, glancing at him sideways. "It… changed some things, you know?"

Cooper nodded, not pushing you, his smile softening. "I get it. And I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to decide anything right now." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, making it clear he was there for you, no pressure.

You looked into his eyes, feeling torn between the comfort he brought and the fear of messing everything up with your feelings. "Thanks, Coops. For everything." Your voice came out almost like a whisper, sincere.

"You know I’d do anything for you." He replied, his voice low but full of certainty. You smiled, turning on your side to face him, your faces close together. Even though you had no idea what the future held for you two, you felt at peace. For now, that was enough. Cooper just smiled back, pulling you closer as you both settled under the blanket. He wrapped his arm around you, snuggling you against his chest, and without another word, you both found your comfort in each other’s warmth.

You closed your eyes, trying not to overthink things. There was still a lot to sort out, but for now, you were together, cozy, and that was all that mattered. With your heart calm and your body relaxed in Cooper's arms, you finally drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in the feeling of safety and the mix of emotions he brought.

hey loves, it's me again! this time i tried to write a more chill smut because i was listening to the old shawn mendes songs and this story popped into my head. hope you guys enjoy it, and thanks for all the love and support on my first smut. by the way, after some comments, i decided to make this one with an implied reader gender; hope i pulled it off. love you all! just a reminder: english isn't my first language, so please be kind.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ reblogs, likes, and kind comments are totally welcome! my inbox is open if anyone wants to request a specific fanfic. ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader

POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover

Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)

Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Dean POV

Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.

Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.

And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.

Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.

When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.

Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.

Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.

Not some asshole from another universe.

The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.

He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.

The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.

Fuck.

His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.

Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.

It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.

Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.

He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.

He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.

Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.

He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.

He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.

That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.

Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.

The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.

Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.

It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.

However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.

But then Ben had shown up.

When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.

But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.

Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.

All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.

Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.

The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"

Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?

Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.

Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.

"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.

Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.

Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"

"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white.  He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."

Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.

"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.

"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.

"I'm kinda what?"

"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"

Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she hasn't made up her mind."

"But why?"

"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"

Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"

"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.

He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.

"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.

"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"

At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."

"I think it does."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."

"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.

"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."

But I do want her.

The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.

"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.

Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"

"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."

"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.

"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.

"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.

Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"

"Just leave me alone Sammy."

And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.

Reader POV

Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.

It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.

You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.

It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.

I have nothing to be guilty about.

You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.

Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.

Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-

You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.

You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.

In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.

No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-

The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.

Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.

But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.

Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.

You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.

Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.

Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.

Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.

Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.

Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.

At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.

Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.

Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?

The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.

It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.

You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.

You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.

But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.

You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.

Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.

Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.

You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.

Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.

You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.

The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.

What the hell is wrong with me?

When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.

But what?

He turns when he hears you walk in.

You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.

"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.

"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"

"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."

You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.

Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-

"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.

"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.

"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"

"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."

Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?

The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.

You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."

You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.

Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"

"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.

Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.

"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."

"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."

Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"

You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.

But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.

Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-

"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"

"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.

"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"

"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.

The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.

If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?

You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.

Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!

You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.

"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe." 

Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"

"No I-"

"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.

"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.

"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.

Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!

"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.

"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."

"But-"

"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"

His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.

Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?

"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.

"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.

"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?

Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”

"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”

You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.

“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”

Is he out of his MIND?!

"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.

"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together

"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"

You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.

"This is different!" He fumes.

"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"

Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?

You didn't think that you did.

Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.

"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight.  "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"

You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."

"I compliment you." He huffs back.

"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"

Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."

"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."

"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."

"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"

"That's not what I-"

"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.

His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.

You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”

Why is it a big deal?

“It just is!"

"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.

"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”

“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.

Who does he think he is? We're not together.

“That’s not what this is about-“

“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”

"It is my business!"

"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"

"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.

A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.

"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”

“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”

“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"

“I’m not trying to!”

“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"

The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.

Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.

Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?

Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.

But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.

"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.

"Thought what?"

"That you wanted me to-"

"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.

"Well-"

"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."

Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.

Dean pauses. "What?"

"Why after years of you hating me-"

"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.

"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.

It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.

"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"

"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"

"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"

You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.

Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?

"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.

Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.

Holy shit.

"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."

The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.

The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.

You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.

He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.

"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.

The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-

Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.

“What are you-“

“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.

His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.

You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.

You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.

But he didn't, he never did.  And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.

Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.

Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.

"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"

Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."

"Then why?"

He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."

"I'm okay."

"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"

"This?"

"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.

"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.

"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."

You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"

There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.

"No.”

“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”

“No. But-"

 You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."

Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"

"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"

His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."

Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.

"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.

You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."

"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.

"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.

"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.

Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.

Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.

"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.

"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone.  "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."

"But-" You try to say again.

Oh this is so awkward.

"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."

Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.

Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.

Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."

The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.

"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does.  It only makes Ben smirk wider.

Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.

"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."

"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."

Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."

"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.

The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.

The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.

But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.

Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."

Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.

Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."

"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”

Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.

And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.

"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.

Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"

"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.

"Just something come on-"

"But why-"

"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.

Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"

Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.

You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"

"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.

"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."

"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.

Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.

"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.

"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.

"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.

Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.

"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."

Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."

"Anything that I can do to convince you?"

"I can think of a few things…"

Ben/Soldier Boy POV

"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.

It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.

He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.

Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.

He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.

Fuck.

He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.

And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.

But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.

Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.

I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!

Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.

And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.

Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.

Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.

Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.

"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.

The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.

Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.

"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.

"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."

"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.

He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.

The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.

"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.

Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.

"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.

Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.

"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.

"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.

Because the person standing next to his desk was you.

This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."

But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.

The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.

He thought it was cute.

As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.

It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.

"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"

"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.

"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."

Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."

You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.

Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.

"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"

"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.

Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.

Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.

"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."

"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.

He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.

"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.

It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.

"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."

He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.

"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.

And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.

A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗

Reveal of the Poll:

🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.

💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.

Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣

Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!

Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:

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@funkenniffler

[dreamersworldduh]

HOME, SWEET, HOME

• 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐱 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

SUMMARY — When your best friend is practically family, you sign up for the good, the bad, and the completely ridiculous. You're their rock, their reality check, their safe place—no matter what. But nothing tests that bond quite like getting a wedding invitation... with your ex-fling on the guest list. That's the situation when Ella, your lifelong best friend, drops a letter that changes everything.

WARNING! FLUFF. Suggestive Langauge.

WORDS! 8.2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Okay, I was watching You Again recently and got the idea for this. It was supposed to be a oneshot but now it's going to be a one shot series about complicated love—my speciality— also says you what you want Shawn but no one can deny how angelic handsome he is. Enjoy your reading✨🫶🏽

NEXT PART! BREWING OF FEELINGS

BEING A best friend comes with lot of responsibilities. You're supposed to be the constant in their life—the person they can rely on when things go south. You're the one who has their back no matter what, the voice of reason when they're being reckless, the shield when they need protection, and the soft landing when the world gets too rough. You love them unconditionally, even when they make decisions that make you want to scream, like inviting your ex-fling to their wedding.

That's the situation you found yourself in when you received a letter from your lifelong best friend, Ella. You and Ella had been inseparable since birth, thanks to your mothers, who had been best friends long before either of you existed. Ella's letter wasn't just any letter—it was an invitation to her wedding with Jake, her high school sweetheart and now fiancé.

You were thrilled for her. Of course you were going—how could you not? You and Ella had been planning her wedding since third grade, dreaming up elaborate ceremonies with glittering dresses, fairy-tale settings, and, of course, each other standing side by side on the big day. It wasn't just her wedding; it felt like a culmination of all the years of friendship, all the secrets and dreams you'd shared.

But everything shifted when you were on the phone with Ella, packing for the wedding weekend, and she casually mentioned that Shawn Mendes would be attending.

Shawn Mendes. The name alone was enough to stir up a whirlwind of emotions you thought you'd buried long ago. Shawn wasn't just anyone—he was your first love. Or rather, your first heartbreak. Back in high school, you and Shawn had been something between boyfriends and flings, caught in a fiery but fragile relationship that burned out almost as quickly as it ignited. Shawn wasn't ready to take your relationship public, and when the pressure became too much, he said things—hurtful, cutting things—that tore you apart.

The breakup wasn't just messy for the two of you; it splintered your entire friend group. Sides were taken, words were exchanged, and bridges were burned. The fallout was something you'd spent years trying to recover from. Shawn was a part of your past, and that's exactly where you'd left him—or so you thought.

It wasn't that you still had feelings for him. That heartbreak had been years ago, and time had dulled the edges of the pain. You'd moved on—or at least you'd told yourself you had. After all, you'd built an incredible life for yourself. You were a well-known singer and actor now, living a life most people could only dream of. But when it came to relationships, you hadn't let anyone else in since Shawn. The fear of being broken again, of giving someone your heart only to have it crushed, had kept you from even trying.

When Ella told you Shawn would be at the wedding, you didn't say anything. It wasn't your place. It was her day, not yours, and she had every right to invite whoever she wanted. Shawn's presence didn't change why you were going—you were there to celebrate your best friend and the love of her life. Nothing else mattered.

But as you zipped up your suitcase, you couldn't help the pang of anxiety settling in your chest. You'd spent years avoiding Shawn, carefully sidestepping any chance of running into him. Now, you were about to walk straight into a weekend where you couldn't avoid him.

This was Ella's wedding, though, and you weren't going to let your past get in the way of her happiness. You'd be there for her, just as you always had been. Even if it meant facing the one person who had once shattered your heart.

THE RUSTY ANCHOR—an unassuming dive bar tucked between the edge of town and the shore—had witnessed more of your teenage years than even your own bedroom. Its cracked vinyl booths still carried the faint, mingled scents of spilled whiskey and cheap wood polish. The air buzzed with the low hum of conversations and the raspy vocals of some classic rock anthem spinning endlessly on the aging jukebox. It was the kind of place that hadn't changed in decades, and for a brief moment, stepping inside felt like walking into a time capsule of your youth.

At the far end of the long, battered wooden table, you sat apart from the lively group, fingers idly tracing patterns around the rim of your untouched drink. The condensation from the glass left faint circles on the tabletop, joining countless others worn into the wood over the years. Your script, the one for the upcoming cameo role you'd agreed to, lay open on the table in front of you. The scene was supposed to be a simple one, but you weren't about to show up unprepared—not after the career you'd built.

The others, on the other hand, had fully surrendered to the nostalgia of the moment. Ella and Jake, the happy couple, sat pressed together in the middle of the group, their hands intertwined as they smiled at one another with that warm, unshakable kind of love that made you believe in fairy tales for just a second. Matt and Lexie had everyone laughing as they reenacted a cringeworthy high school moment, throwing in exaggerated voices and gestures to drive the point home. Sophie and Nate were huddled in the corner, fumbling hopelessly with a phone tripod as they tried to set it up for the perfect group selfie. The bar's dim lighting and aged decor weren't exactly Instagram-worthy, but they weren't about to let that stop them.

And then there was you—half there, half somewhere else, lost between the words on your script and the growing knot of unease in your stomach. It wasn't that you didn't want to be here; you did, for Ella's sake. But the anticipation of Shawn's arrival hung over you like a storm cloud, looming just out of sight but impossible to ignore.

Everyone was waiting for him. Ella had mentioned that Shawn was running late—traffic, she'd said—but you weren't sure if it was his timing or your own nerves making the minutes feel like hours. You hadn't seen him in years, and yet, here you were, waiting for him in the same bar where it had all started. You told yourself it was fine, that you were fine. You'd come here to celebrate Ella and Jake, not to dredge up the past.

But as you flipped the page of your script, scanning the dialogue that now seemed distant and unimportant, you felt the old ghosts of the Rusty Anchor stirring. You'd shared so many nights here with Shawn—late-night talks, stolen moments, the thrill of something secret and unspoken. And eventually, the heartbreak.

You took a deep breath, focusing back on the group. The others didn't seem to notice your distraction, which you were grateful for. You couldn't let them see the crack in your carefully maintained composure. Ella and Jake's laughter echoed across the table, a reminder of why you were really here. Whatever was about to happen when Shawn finally walked through that door, you'd face it—like you always did.

Matt, ever the observant one despite his antics, finally caught on to your silence. He leaned back in his chair, his beer in hand, and shot a pointed look in Ella's direction. With a subtle nudge of his elbow, he silently conveyed what you already knew was coming. Ella straightened up slightly, her expression shifting from carefree joy to quiet concern. She turned toward you, leaning closer so her voice wouldn't carry over the others' laughter.

"You good?" she asked, her tone soft, laced with the kind of concern that only years of friendship could convey.

You met her gaze briefly, then looked back down at the script in front of you. The pages blurred slightly, not from the dim light of the bar but from the weight of her question—and the unspoken one that hung between you. You knew what she was really asking.

"Fine," you replied, your voice even, betraying nothing. It wasn't a lie, not entirely. You weren't on the verge of breaking down or anything, but "fine" was easier than trying to unpack the knot of emotions twisting in your chest. Ella studied you for a moment longer, her lips pressing into a thin line as though deciding whether to push the matter.

The others were still caught up in their own worlds—Matt and Lexie's exaggerated reenactment had escalated into a full-blown performance, complete with dramatic gestures, and Sophie had just knocked over the phone tripod, prompting Nate's exasperated groan. The noise and chaos of the group gave you and Ella a small bubble of privacy, but you could tell she wasn't going to let this go entirely.

She tilted her head slightly, her voice barely above a whisper now. "You know you can talk to me, right? If...you need to?"

You swallowed hard and gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I know," you said, and you meant it. Ella had always been your anchor, the one person who'd seen you through every storm. But this wasn't her storm to weather—it was yours. And you weren't ready to open the floodgates just yet.

She hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes searching yours as if trying to read the words you weren't saying. Then, with a quiet sigh, she nodded and leaned back into her seat, giving you the space she knew you needed.

Still, the weight of her concern lingered, a reminder that she knew you better than you often gave her credit for. You turned back to your script, forcing yourself to focus on the dialogue. But as the minutes ticked by, the anticipation in your chest only grew heavier. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were already preparing for the moment the door would open and Shawn would walk in.

Suddenly, The bell above the door jingled again, its cheerful chime cutting through the ambient noise of laughter and music. You didn't look up immediately, but you felt the subtle shift in the group before you heard the footsteps. They were slow, hesitant, as though the person walking in wasn't entirely sure they were welcome.

"Hey, guys."

That voice. Warm, richer now with age but still carrying the same undertone of quiet charm that had once been your undoing. Shawn Mendes.

You finally looked up, your stomach tightening instinctively. There he was, standing just a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of a well-worn leather jacket that looked as though it had seen as many years as the bar itself. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd been running his hands through it nervously on the way over.

He looked good. You hated that you noticed.

Shawn's gaze swept over the group, his soft brown eyes flicking from face to face as he offered a small, tentative smile. Matt was the first to respond, raising his beer in greeting with a loud, "Shawn! Took you long enough, man!" That broke the ice, and the others chimed in with similar greetings, inviting him into the fold as though no time had passed.

But Shawn's eyes didn't linger on Matt or Lexie or Sophie. No, they found you—and stayed there, longer than you were prepared for. It wasn't a casual glance. His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something you couldn't quite place—nostalgia, maybe, or regret. Whatever it was, it sent a jolt of unease through you.

You held his gaze for a moment, refusing to look away first, even though your pulse quickened. The years between you hadn't erased the memory of that look—the way it had once been filled with something softer, something deeper. But now, it was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

"Hey," he said again, quieter this time, almost as if it was meant just for you. Then, as if realizing he'd been staring, he quickly dropped his eyes and slid into the open seat across from you.

Ella, ever the hostess, leaned forward with a bright smile, immediately steering the conversation toward familiar, safe topics to ease the tension. The others followed her lead, peppering Shawn with questions about what he'd been up to, where he was living, whether he was still writing music.

You stayed silent, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of your script. You didn't trust yourself to speak—not yet. Not when your mind was racing with a thousand emotions you weren't ready to unpack. So, you let the others fill the space, their chatter buzzing around you like white noise.

But Shawn's presence was impossible to ignore. Even as you kept your eyes on the words in front of you, you could feel his attention drifting back to you, tentative but persistent, like he was waiting for some kind of opening. You weren't sure if you wanted to give him one.

The night suddenly felt heavier, the weight of the past pressing down on you in a way you hadn't anticipated. It was going to be a long evening.

"Good to see everyone," Shawn said, his voice warm but laced with an edge of caution. "It's been... a while."

The group immediately erupted into small talk, eager to fill him in on everything he'd missed. Matt launched into a story about his new job, Lexie joked about her disastrous attempts at online dating, and Sophie managed to pull Shawn into a quick selfie for her ever-growing collection. The chatter was lively, easy, as though everyone had effortlessly fallen back into their old rhythm.

Everyone except you.

You kept quiet, your hands clenched tightly under the table where no one could see. Shawn's gaze drifted to you more than once—you could feel it—but you kept your eyes fixed on the script in front of you, pretending to study the pages with far more intensity than they warranted.

And Shawn noticed. You could feel the weight of his attention growing heavier, like he was waiting for the right moment.

That moment came during a lull, the conversation dipping into a rare silence as everyone caught their breath. Shawn cleared his throat, and the sound sent a ripple through the table.

"Hey..." His voice was low, hesitant, but it cut through the quiet. His eyes were on you, the rest of the group suddenly forgotten. "Can we talk?"

The question hung in the air, and the table collectively stilled. Your friends, so loud and animated just moments ago, now found their drinks, the table, and the far corners of the bar incredibly fascinating.

You didn't look up. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table, and you forced yourself to sound indifferent. "Nothing to talk about," you said with a shrug, your tone flat, dismissive.

Shawn flinched, just barely, but it was enough for you to notice. The others exchanged quick, awkward glances, as if debating whether to intervene or pretend they hadn't heard anything. Ella shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but she didn't say a word.

Shawn leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the table as he tried again. "I think there is," he said, quieter this time. There was a rawness in his voice now, a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

You finally looked up, your eyes meeting his for the first time that night. The tension between you was almost palpable, the weight of unresolved history pressing down on both of you. For a moment, no one at the table breathed, waiting to see what you would do.

But instead of answering, you pushed your chair back, the legs scraping against the worn floorboards. "I'm going to get some air," you muttered, standing up before anyone could stop you.

As you walked away, you could feel Shawn's eyes on your back, but you didn't turn around. The familiar scent of the bar faded as you stepped outside into the cool night air, the door closing behind you with a hollow thud.

For a few seconds, you just stood there, breathing deeply, trying to push down the mix of anger, sadness, and something dangerously close to longing that his presence had stirred up. You weren't ready for this—not here, not now.

The cool night air was a relief against your skin, though it did little to calm the storm inside you. You leaned against the wall of the bar, staring out at the empty parking lot, your arms crossed tightly across your chest. The muffled sounds of laughter and music filtered through the door behind you, a reminder that the rest of the world was still spinning, even if yours felt like it had tilted on its axis.

The door creaked open, and for a moment, you tensed, expecting him. But instead, you heard the familiar shuffle of boots and the soft clearing of a throat.

"Mind if I join you?" Ella's voice was gentle, cautious, as though she were approaching a wounded animal. You didn't answer, but you didn't stop her either, and that was all the permission she needed. She stepped out fully, the door shutting softly behind her, and slid down to sit beside you on the curb.

For a while, neither of you spoke. She didn't push, didn't bombard you with questions or platitudes. She just sat there, her presence steady and grounding, letting the silence work its way through you both.

Finally, she broke it. "You want to tell me what's going on?" Her tone was careful but insistent, the way only Ella could manage—enough to remind you she wasn't going anywhere, but not so much that you felt forced to answer.

You exhaled sharply, your breath visible in the chilly air. "It's nothing," you said, though the tightness in your voice betrayed you.

Ella let out a soft laugh, dry but not unkind. "You really think I'm buying that?"

You glanced at her, her face partially lit by the warm glow of the bar's neon sign. She was watching you with that look—the one that had been the undoing of every lie you'd ever tried to tell her. Her expression was equal parts patient and stubborn, and you knew there was no sidestepping this conversation.

You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know, El. It's... Shawn." His name felt heavy on your tongue, and saying it aloud made everything feel more real.

Ella nodded, her expression softening. "I figured," she said simply. "I saw the way you went quiet as soon as he walked in."

You turned away, staring at the cracked pavement beneath your feet. "I wasn't ready for this," you admitted quietly. "Seeing him again. Hearing his voice. It's like..." You trailed off, searching for the words, but they didn't come.

"Like it ripped open something you thought was healed?" she finished for you.

You looked at her, surprised by how perfectly she'd nailed it. She smiled faintly, shrugging. "I've been there, you know. Different person, different situation, but I get it."

A bitter laugh escaped you. "I thought I was over it. Over him. It's been years, El. I've moved on... or at least I thought I had."

"Moving on doesn't mean forgetting," she said gently. "Or that it stops mattering. You loved him, even if it was messy and complicated. And he hurt you. Of course it's going to feel like this."

You leaned back, resting your head against the cold brick wall. "I just... I don't know what he wants. Why he's here."

Ella tilted her head, studying you. "Maybe he just wants to talk. To make things right."

You scoffed. "It's a little late for that."

"Maybe," she agreed. "But maybe it's not. Either way, you don't have to figure it all out tonight. Just... give yourself some grace, okay? You don't have to have all the answers right now."

For the first time since stepping outside, you let yourself relax, even if only slightly. Ella reached over, giving your hand a quick squeeze. "Whatever happens, I've got your back. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," you said softly. "I know."

You exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the moment settle before you turned to Ella. Her concern was genuine, her presence comforting, but it wasn't what you wanted to focus on right now. You gave her a small, grateful smile before speaking.

"Ella," you began softly, "this weekend isn't about me. Or Shawn. It's about you and Jake. Your wedding, your union, everything you've worked for together. I don't want to be the one dragging old feelings and unresolved drama into that."

She frowned, tilting her head. "You're not dragging anything in. I can see how much this is affecting you, and I just want to make sure—"

"I'm fine," you interrupted gently, holding her gaze. "Really, I am. I came here for you, for Jake, to celebrate what you two have. That's all that matters to me. Whatever's going on with Shawn... it's in the past. I'm not going to let it overshadow your moment."

Ella sighed, her brow furrowed with worry, but there was also a flicker of relief in her expression. "You sure? Because you don't have to bottle everything up just for my sake, you know. If you need to step away, if you need to take time for yourself—"

"Ella," you said, cutting her off with a soft laugh. "I love you, but this isn't the time for that. You and Jake have waited so long for this weekend, and I'm not about to be the one who makes it about something else. I'm here to support you, to stand by your side. That's all I want."

Her lips pressed together, her eyes searching yours for any cracks in your resolve. "You always do that," she said after a moment.

"Do what?"

"Put yourself last. Sacrifice what you're feeling for everyone else." She reached over, resting a hand on your arm. "I know you're here for me, and I love you for it. But don't think for a second that I'm going to let you drown in this just to keep a smile on my face. I know you, and I know when something's eating at you."

You sighed, leaning back against the wall again. "It's not that simple, Ella. What am I supposed to do? Have some emotional heart-to-heart with Shawn in the middle of your wedding festivities? That's not going to happen."

"I'm not saying you have to," she said, her voice calm but firm. "But don't ignore how you feel either. This isn't about giving him anything—it's about giving yourself some closure, even if it's just for your own peace of mind."

You didn't respond right away, staring out at the dark parking lot. After a moment, you gave her a half-smile. "I'll think about it. But only after you and Jake are officially hitched and I'm three drinks into the reception."

Ella laughed, the sound light and familiar, breaking the tension in the air. "Fair enough," she said. Then her expression softened, and she leaned her head against your shoulder. "You've always been there for me. I just want to make sure I'm there for you too."

"You are," you said, your voice steady. "You always are."

After a few more moments of quiet outside, you stood up, brushing off your jeans and offering Ella a hand. She took it, squeezing it gently before the two of you headed back inside. The warmth and noise of The Rusty Anchor hit you as soon as you opened the door—laughter, the low hum of the jukebox, and the familiar din of your friend group already several drinks deep.

You slid back into your seat at the table, Ella following close behind. The others didn't seem to notice your brief absence, caught up in their conversation. Shawn's eyes flicked toward you briefly, but you didn't return the glance. Instead, you focused on Ella, who leaned forward to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, guys," she began, her voice raised slightly to cut through the noise. Jake grinned beside her, clearly in on whatever announcement she was about to make. "So, Jake and I were talking, and we figured it's been forever since all of us got to spend some real time together. And with the wedding coming up, we thought... why not?"

The group fell silent, everyone looking at her with a mix of curiosity and excitement.

"So," Jake added, taking over, "we booked a cabin for the week leading up to the wedding. It's big enough for all of us, and we thought it'd be a great way to reconnect—hang out, relive old times, and, you know, just relax before the big day."

The announcement was met with a chorus of reactions—cheers, laughter, and a few surprised exclamations. Lexie clapped her hands together. "Are you serious? A whole week together? That's amazing!"

"Wait," Matt said, his brow furrowed. "This isn't one of those creepy cabins in the middle of nowhere where we get picked off by a horror movie villain, right?"

"Absolutely not," Ella said with a grin. "It's a gorgeous place by the lake. Full amenities, big kitchen, tons of space. It's perfect."

Sophie let out an excited squeal. "Oh my God, I can't wait! This is going to be so much fun!"

Nate, ever the practical one, raised an eyebrow. "What about work? I mean, some of us have—"

Jake waved him off. "We planned this ages ago and checked with everyone's schedules. Plus, it's not mandatory. But we'd love it if you came."

The group's energy was electric now, everyone talking over each other with plans and excitement. You stayed quiet, processing the news. A whole week together. With Ella and Jake, with the others. With Shawn.

Ella caught your eye, giving you a look that said it'll be fine. She knew what you were thinking, and she wasn't going to let you back out.

"So," Ella said, her smile widening as she looked around the table, "what do you guys think? Are you in?"

The unanimous response was a resounding yes. Even you, despite your hesitation, nodded along. This was Ella's time, and you'd promised yourself you'd be here for her. Whatever came next, you'd deal with it. Together.

THE DRIVE up to the secluded cabin had been both long and strangely nostalgic, each twist and turn of the road pulling you further from the noise of everyday life and deeper into a landscape that felt like a postcard. The forest, dense with towering pines, seemed to close in around the winding road, while the sunlight filtering through the trees created dappled patterns on the asphalt. Every so often, the view would break open to reveal a pristine mountain lake, its surface shimmering like glass under the soft afternoon sun.

The convoy of three cars navigated the final stretch together, gravel crunching under tires as you pulled into the wide driveway one by one. The sight that greeted you was enough to make the long drive worth it. The cabin stood tall and inviting, its rustic log exterior blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. A wide wrap-around porch wrapped around the structure, adorned with cozy rocking chairs and lanterns that were already glowing softly against the early evening sky.

Beyond the cabin, the lake stretched out in serene stillness, its surface kissed by a thin layer of mist that drifted lazily across the water. The evergreens lining the shore swayed gently in the cool breeze, their reflection rippling faintly in the water. It was quiet, except for the occasional call of a bird or the faint rustle of leaves in the wind—a kind of peace you hadn't realized you needed until you arrived.

Everyone began climbing out of their cars, stretching and letting out exaggerated groans after the long drive. Bags were retrieved from trunks, and the air quickly filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter as the group took in their surroundings.

"This place is incredible," Sophie said, spinning in a slow circle to take it all in. "I feel like we're in a movie or something."

"Right?" Lexie agreed, already snapping pictures with her phone. "We're totally living our best lives this week."

Matt, ever practical, eyed the cabin with a playful grin. "Are we sure this isn't one of those places where we all get picked off one by one? Because I'm pretty sure I saw this exact setup in a horror movie once."

Ella rolled her eyes, laughing as she looped her arm through Jake's. "Relax, Matt. The scariest thing here is probably going to be Lexie's attempts at making s'mores."

"Hey!" Lexie shot back, grinning. "My s'mores are legendary."

You smiled faintly at the banter, your eyes scanning the cabin and its surroundings. It was beautiful, no doubt about it, and it did feel like the perfect place to reconnect. But there was an underlying tension you couldn't quite shake—one that had nothing to do with the cabin or the lake.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shawn unloading his bag from the backseat of his car. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing toward the group as if gauging whether to join in the chatter. When his eyes briefly met yours, he gave a small, tentative smile. You didn't return it, turning your attention back to the others instead.

"Alright, everyone," Jake called out, clapping his hands together. "Let's get settled in. Ella and I claimed the master bedroom—obviously—but the rest of you can fight over the other rooms."

"First come, first serve!" Matt shouted, grabbing his bag and bolting toward the cabin, Lexie hot on his heels.

The others followed, laughing and calling out dibs as they disappeared through the front door. You hung back for a moment, taking one last look at the lake and breathing in the crisp, pine-scented air.

"It's going to be a good week," Ella said quietly, stepping up beside you. Her voice was calm, reassuring, as if she could sense the hesitation still lingering in you.

You nodded, giving her a small smile. "Yeah," you said softly, "it will be."

Together, you headed toward the cabin, ready to see what the week—and whatever it brought—had in store.

The cabin's interior was even more breathtaking than its exterior. Wide wooden beams stretched across the vaulted ceiling, giving the living room an open, airy feel. A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, its hearth flanked by built-in bookshelves filled with worn novels and board games. Oversized couches, draped with soft plaid blankets, were arranged in a semi-circle near the fireplace, clearly designed for late-night conversations and fireside gatherings.

The floor-to-ceiling windows were the real showstopper, offering an unobstructed view of the lake. The fading sunlight painted the water in hues of gold and orange, and the mist that lingered earlier had lifted just enough to reveal the treetops on the opposite shore. It was the kind of view that made you want to sit and watch it for hours.

"Okay!" Ella's voice broke through the awed silence. She clapped her hands together, a wide grin on her face. "Claim your rooms now before Lexie steals the best one."

"I resent that!" Lexie called out, already halfway up the staircase with her bag in hand.

The group burst into laughter as everyone scattered, suitcases thudding up and down the stairs and along the wooden floors. There was no real system—just a lot of playful shouts of "Dibs!" and exaggerated protests as people jostled for the best spots.

You stayed back, letting the chaos unfold without you. It wasn't that you didn't care where you stayed—you just didn't have the energy to argue about it. After a few minutes, the noise upstairs settled down as everyone staked their claims. Finally, you grabbed your bag and headed up the stairs, finding a room at the very end of the hall.

It was smaller than some of the others but no less charming. A sturdy wooden bed with a thick quilt sat against one wall, and a large window overlooked the forest. The room was quiet and private, the kind of space that let you breathe a little easier. You dropped your bag at the foot of the bed and walked over to the window, peering out at the dense line of trees. The fading light filtered through the branches, casting long shadows on the ground.

It wasn't the lake view, but you didn't mind. The forest felt secluded, calm—a contrast to the energy buzzing through the rest of the cabin. You let out a slow breath, feeling some of the tension from the day ease away.

Downstairs, the sound of laughter and footsteps echoed faintly. You could hear Sophie's voice carrying over the others, probably trying to organize some kind of group activity, and Matt cracking one of his signature terrible jokes. For a moment, you considered staying in your room and avoiding the inevitable awkwardness of being in the same space as Shawn for the rest of the evening.

But then you heard Ella call your name from the living room, her voice light and full of excitement. You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. This week was for her, for Jake, for all of you to reconnect as friends.

With one last glance at the forest, you turned and headed downstairs, bracing yourself for whatever the night had in store.

BY NIGHTFALL, the group had migrated outside, where a roaring fire crackled in the stone fire pit just beyond the cabin's porch. The flames cast flickering shadows on the surrounding trees, their golden light reaching up to the star-filled sky. Embers popped and danced as they floated upward, disappearing into the crisp night air. The faint scent of pine mingled with the smokiness of the fire, grounding you in the peaceful stillness of the forest.

Blankets were draped over shoulders as the group settled in around the fire, the cozy scene punctuated by bursts of laughter and the clinking of bottles from the cooler someone had dragged out. Sophie and Nate were huddled near the edge of the fire pit, attempting to make s'mores. Sophie let out a loud laugh as she accidentally set her marshmallow ablaze, the charred black blob dangling precariously from her skewer.

"Why does this always happen to me?" she groaned, trying to blow it out without much success.

"Because you refuse to rotate it slowly," Nate said, grinning as he expertly toasted his own marshmallow to a perfect golden brown. "Patience is a virtue."

"Patience is boring," Sophie shot back, finally extinguishing the flames. She plopped the ruined marshmallow onto a graham cracker anyway, earning another laugh from Nate.

On the opposite side of the fire, Matt was midway through recounting an elaborate story about a disastrous hiking trip from years ago. His voice grew louder with each detail, his hands flying in exaggerated gestures as he described the "near-death" experience.

"I'm telling you, the bear was this close," he said, stretching his arms wide for emphasis.

"It was a raccoon, Matt," Lexie interjected dryly, her face lit with mock intensity as she leaned forward. "And you were hiding behind a tree screaming while the rest of us dealt with it."

The group erupted into laughter, even Matt, who dramatically rolled his eyes. "Details, Lexie. Nobody cares about the details."

You sat quietly on one of the large wooden logs circling the fire, a half-finished beer in your hand. The warmth of the flames pressed against your skin, contrasting with the cool night air. You tilted your head back to look at the stars, which seemed impossibly bright out here, far from the city lights. For a moment, you let yourself relax, tuning out the chatter and letting the fire's crackle fill your mind.

But you couldn't entirely ignore the presence of Shawn, sitting across the fire from you. He wasn't saying much, mostly listening and occasionally laughing along with the others. Every now and then, his gaze would flicker to you, lingering for just a moment too long before he looked away. You tried not to notice, tried not to let it bother you. But it did.

Ella, sitting beside you, leaned over and bumped your shoulder lightly. "You okay?" she asked softly, her voice low enough that the others couldn't hear.

You nodded, giving her a small smile. "Yeah," you said, and for now, it wasn't entirely a lie.

As the night deepened, the fire burned lower, the flames licking lazily at the logs. The hum of conversation and laughter had softened, but the energy of the group still buzzed in the cool air. You were focused on the glow of the embers, letting the warmth lull you into a momentary calm, when you felt it: the unmistakable weight of someone sitting down beside you.

Shawn.

He didn't speak right away, just stretched his legs out toward the fire and rested his hands on his knees, the movement casual yet deliberate. The orange firelight danced across his face, accentuating the sharp curve of his jaw and the faint stubble that shadowed his chin. He looked different, older, but in a way that made him even more disarming.

"Mind if I sit?" he finally asked, his voice low, though he was already seated.

You shrugged, your voice cool. "It's a free country."

A quiet moment stretched between you, filled only by the crackling of the fire and the sounds of your friends laughing and talking a few feet away. You kept your eyes on the flames, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking at him.

"You've been...quiet," he said, his tone soft but probing, his gaze still fixed on the fire.

"Just taking it all in," you replied, keeping your voice even. You weren't sure if it was entirely true, but it was easier than admitting the truth—that his presence was making it harder to think straight.

He nodded, rubbing his hands together against the chill. "It's weird being back together like this. Good, but... weird."

You hummed in vague agreement, still not looking at him. The air between you felt heavy, dense with unspoken words.

Shawn shifted slightly closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. "I didn't think you'd come."

That made you turn to him, your expression guarded, a faint edge to your voice. "Really? To my best friend’s wedding? The wedding that’s we’ve planning since third grade?”

His gaze faltered, his confidence cracking just slightly under your words. "I know. I just..." He hesitated, his voice softer now. "I'm glad you did."

Before you could muster a response, Matt's booming voice shattered the tension: "Alright, truth or dare time! We're doing this old-school, no backing out."

A groan rippled through the group, Sophie rolling her eyes dramatically. But the rest of your friends cheered, shifting eagerly into a circle around the fire, blankets and drinks in hand.

Matt pointed at you first, his grin mischievous. "You're up. Truth or dare?"

All eyes turned to you, the firelight catching their amused, expectant faces. But it was Shawn's gaze that lingered the heaviest, his expression unreadable but his attention unmistakable.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. "...Truth," you finally said, your voice steady despite the knot in your chest.

Matt's grin widened, his excitement palpable. "What's something you regret not saying to someone from our past?"

The group erupted into playful groans and teasing "Oooohs," their laughter filling the space. But you didn't hear them clearly; all you could focus on was Shawn. His gaze locked onto yours across the fire, not with judgment, but with something closer to curiosity—or maybe hope.

The fire crackled, the moment stretching endlessly.

You kept your expression cool, your voice even as you finally answered. "I don't believe in regrets."

The group collectively booed your non-answer, Matt groaning in mock frustration. "Lame! That's such a cop-out."

But he let it slide, moving on to his next target with exaggerated flair, and the energy of the circle quickly shifted back to laughter and playful dares.

Shawn, though, didn't move. He stayed beside you, his lips quirking into the faintest, almost imperceptible smile. It wasn't smug or knowing, but there was something in it that made your stomach flip—a quiet acknowledgment, a shared understanding that the conversation between you was far from over.

THE NIGHT went on, but the fire between you and Shawn wasn't the only one that refused to burn out. The past, it seemed, had found its way back to the present.

The wooden deck groaned softly as Shawn shifted his weight, leaning further against the porch railing. The crisp night air was a stark contrast to the warmth and noise inside, and for a moment, he allowed himself to focus on the stars overhead. They stretched endlessly across the black sky, impossibly clear and bright, a view he hadn't appreciated in far too long. In the distance, the faint shimmer of the lake was barely visible, a mirror reflecting the night.

The sliding glass door behind him clicked softly, followed by the sound of familiar footsteps. Shawn didn't turn around, but when Matt stepped up to the railing beside him, a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Needed some air," Matt said, raising his whiskey tumbler as if to toast the night. The amber liquid caught the warm glow of the porch lantern. "It's loud in there."

Shawn nodded, taking a sip from his beer. "Yeah... They're already three drinks ahead of us."

Matt chuckled, leaning against the railing. "Sophie's halfway to starting a karaoke competition. We've got about ten minutes before it gets really embarrassing."

They shared a quiet laugh, the kind that comes easily between old friends. The muffled sounds of music and laughter spilled faintly from the cabin's windows, a backdrop to the peaceful stillness of the night outside.

Matt tilted his head back, his gaze tracing the constellations overhead. "You forget how clear the stars are out here," he murmured. "Living in the city, it's just buildings and streetlights. This feels... different."

Shawn exhaled slowly, his eyes drifting toward the lake, its dark silhouette barely visible against the horizon. "Yeah," he said, his voice quieter now. "I missed this."

A pause stretched between them, comfortable but weighted, the kind of silence where unspoken thoughts hovered just out of reach. Finally, Matt broke it, his tone softer this time. "So... How's life been? I mean, really."

Shawn hesitated, the question hanging in the air. He shrugged, setting his beer down on the railing with a dull clink. "Busy. Music, touring... all of it kind of blurs together after a while." He paused, his expression shifting, the faintest shadow crossing his face. "It's good, though. I'm lucky."

Matt turned his head slightly, studying him. "You don't sound like you believe that."

A dry laugh escaped Shawn, low and almost self-deprecating. "It's not that," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I just—sometimes it feels like... I'm always moving, you know? Like if I stop for too long, everything catches up."

Matt nodded, swirling the whiskey in his glass, the soft clink of ice punctuating the moment. "I get that," he said quietly. "Life comes at you fast, and you think if you stay busy enough, you can outrun the stuff that hurts."

Shawn glanced at him, something vulnerable flickering in his expression, and then he looked back out at the dark expanse of trees. "Yeah," he said simply. "Exactly."

For a while, neither of them spoke, letting the stillness of the night wrap around them. The soft hum of music and laughter from inside the cabin continued, a reminder of the world they'd stepped away from. But out here, under the stars, with the cool air biting gently at their skin, it was easy to feel like time had slowed, just for a moment.

Matt broke the silence again, his voice thoughtful. "You think maybe... it's time to stop running?"

Shawn didn't answer right away. Instead, he picked up his beer and took another sip, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "Maybe. I just... don't know how."

Matt let that hang in the air, neither agreeing nor pressing further. He simply nodded, tipping his glass toward the stars before taking a long sip of whiskey.

Inside, the music swelled, and a loud cheer erupted, likely signaling the start of Sophie's infamous karaoke showdown.

Matt broke the silence first, his voice low but deliberate. "Have you talked to him yet?"

Shawn tensed, the question cutting through the quiet night. He didn't turn his head, his gaze locked on the dark expanse of the lake. "Not really," he admitted after a pause. "He's been..." He hesitated, searching for the right word. "...distant."

Matt let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Can you blame him?"

Shawn flinched at the words but didn't argue. The truth in them was undeniable, and it settled in his chest like a weight.

Matt leaned back against the railing, his tone shifting to something softer. "You really hurt him, man."

"I know," Shawn said, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a rawness to it, a crack in his carefully composed exterior. "I didn't mean to. I just... I was scared. Scared of what people would think, of what it would change. Of what it would make me."

Matt turned to look at him, his expression both sharp and understanding. "It changed everything anyway."

The words hit hard, and Shawn nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging under a weight he had been carrying for far too long. "I thought I was protecting him... protecting us. But I wasn't. I was just protecting myself."

Matt sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "You know he loved you, right? More than he ever admitted... even when it all fell apart."

Shawn's grip tightened around the neck of his beer bottle, his gaze dropping to the worn wooden planks beneath his boots. "Do you think it's too late?"

Matt studied him, his expression unreadable as he considered the question. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady. "I think... you only get so many chances in life. But if you're waiting for the perfect moment to fix this, it's never gonna come. You've gotta decide if he's worth the risk."

Shawn nodded faintly, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard. "I don't know if he even wants to hear me out," he murmured, more to himself than to Matt.

Matt's lips quirked into a faint smirk. "You won't know unless you try. But if you're going to do it, you can't half-ass it this time. No secrets. No excuses. He deserves better than that."

Shawn's gaze lifted, following the faint ripples of the lake under the starlight. The reflection of the stars on the water seemed endless, like a horizon he couldn't quite reach. His fingers flexed around the beer bottle as the memories—both good and bad—flooded his mind.

After a long pause, his voice broke the stillness. It was quiet, but resolute. "I'm not scared anymore."

Matt clapped him on the shoulder, a firm but encouraging gesture. "Good," he said, his voice lighter but still sincere. "Just... be ready to fight for it. He's not gonna make it easy."

The faint strains of Sophie's slightly off-key karaoke performance drifted through the air, prompting a small laugh from both of them.

"Looks like Sophie's in full diva mode," Matt said with a grin. "We should head back before she forces us to do a duet."

Shawn smiled faintly, but his feet remained rooted to the spot. "You go ahead. I'll be in soon."

Matt nodded, understanding that Shawn needed a moment. He stepped back inside, the sliding glass door clicking softly behind him.

Shawn stayed where he was, staring out at the lake, his thoughts swirling like the rippling water. He let the cool night air wash over him, steadying his breath, his mind turning over what he'd just said.

I'm not scared anymore.

It felt like a declaration, one he hadn't realized he was ready to make until now. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late after all.

[tacobacoyeet]

where were you in the morning? | art donaldson x reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, this is a blurb

It starts with a look.

Not the kind that begs. Not the kind that pleads.

Just one that lingers.

You see him before you mean to.

He’s leaning against the bar, nursing something amber, half-listening to the person beside him, not smiling. His body language says he’s been here before. Not just the club—the dance, the attention, the electricity that pulses between strangers when the music’s just loud enough to hide the noise in your chest.

You weren’t looking for anyone. You tell yourself that, at least.

But then his eyes find yours.

And for a beat too long, neither of you looks away.

You glance down first. But when you lift your gaze again, he’s still watching.

Not predatory. Not desperate.

Just curious.

You shift your weight on your stool. Take another slow sip of a drink that’s mostly melted ice. You feel the heat of him across the room like a palm between your shoulder blades.

It’s stupid. It's a cliché.

And still, your skin buzzes when he starts walking your way.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just leans one arm on the bar beside you, waiting for the bartender to notice him. You pretend not to notice him. You pretend you’re unaffected.

“You don’t seem like you want to be here,” he says, voice like velvet and static.

You glance sideways. “Neither do you.”

He hums. Smiles, but only slightly. “Maybe we can be bored together.”

And you—

You laugh. You shouldn’t. But you do.

There’s something about him. Something half-finished and golden and bruised. Like a crown someone dropped in the dirt and forgot how to polish.

You don’t ask his name. He doesn’t ask yours.

The song changes. The bass slows. The room spins a little softer.

He holds out a hand.

You take it.

And when you move with him onto the dance floor, it doesn’t feel like dancing.

It feels like promise.

It feels like beginning. Not the kind that pleads.

Just one that lingers.

The air in the bar was too warm, the lighting too soft, and you were already halfway through a drink you didn’t want when you met his eyes across the room. He had that glow about him—like someone who knew what it meant to be wanted and hadn’t yet decided whether or not he cared.

And you—you were already halfway to aching.

Art Donaldson looked at you like the night was already his. And maybe it was.

Because when he brushed past you near the exit and said your name like it tasted expensive, you let him. When he asked you something low and soft against your neck—'my place?'—you said yes with your pulse.

---

His apartment was quiet. Modern. Unlived-in, but not unloved. There were trophies on the shelf and vinyl on the table and a single open bottle of wine waiting like it had been poured just for this.

He kissed you before you could take your coat off. Kissed you like the night had been counting down to this moment, like he knew the exact shape of your mouth before he ever touched it. Like speaking was too fragile a thing, and this was how he meant to explain himself.

The couch was too far. The kitchen counter was closer. Your back hit cool marble. His hands were warm, demanding. He kissed down your neck like he wanted to brand you, to trace each pulse point and claim it. Not out of ownership—out of hunger.

You laughed against his mouth when he lifted you like gravity was optional. Your thighs gripped his hips like they’d known the rhythm forever. And still, it felt new. Strange. Sacred.

He pressed his forehead to yours, breath shuddering, hands fumbling at your shirt like the fabric had offended him. Your clothes fell away like offerings. His followed. Skin against skin. No barriers. No names.

And when he looked at you—really looked—you saw something unguarded there. Something wrecked.

“Tell me if this is too much,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse.

You only pulled him closer.

He touched you like a man who somehow knew he wouldn’t get to again. Like every gasp you gave him was something he might replay in a dream. His mouth was everywhere—jaw, collarbone, sternum, stomach—like he couldn’t decide what part of you deserved worship first.

You moaned when he found the spot just under your ribs, the soft curve where heat pooled. He groaned when you said his name, fingers tightening like he could hold onto that sound.

When he finally entered you, it was slow. Deep. Devastating.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t rough. It was rhythm. Breath. The echo of two people trying not to memorize what they already knew they’d lose.

“You feel—” he whispered, breaking apart mid-sentence.

Your legs wrapped tighter. Your nails scratched down his back. You met each thrust with a roll of your hips that made him shiver. His mouth found yours again, slower now, like he was drinking from it.

When you came, you buried your face in his shoulder. Your whole body trembling, unraveling in waves. He held you through it, whispered things you couldn’t remember.

He followed you a moment later, eyes clenched shut, a low curse falling from his lips. Your name like ash in his mouth. Like prayer.

He collapsed beside you, body still shaking.

You pressed into the heat of him.

You let it be soft.

You let it be real.

You fell asleep.

But you didn’t stay.

---

When Art wakes, it’s with a slow stretch and a smile he doesn’t know he’s wearing.

The room is hazy with morning light, the sheets still warm, his arm reaching for where you should be.

But the space beside him is empty.

Not cold. Not yet.

Just empty.

He blinks once. Twice. Frowns. Sits up.

The air is too still. There’s no scent of coffee, no sound of running water, no soft footsteps from another room. Just silence—clean and bright and unbearable.

He pushes the comforter aside and walks barefoot to the living room. No note. No number. No forgotten earrings on the nightstand.

Just his own reflection in the black screen of the television.

And the memory of your voice—quiet and breathless and right here. Right here.

He leans against the counter where your back was pressed just hours ago. Runs a hand through his hair. Tries not to let it sting.

Tries not to care.

But he does.

He remembers the way your fingers trembled when they unbuttoned his shirt. The way you whispered please like it wasn’t a plea, just a truth.

He remembers thinking—maybe. Just for a second. Maybe this could be something.

But you left before he could ask.

And now the morning smells like nothing.

Like you were never there at all.

And maybe that’s what stings the most—not just that you left, but that you made it feel like you wouldn’t.

You stayed in his arms like you meant it. You laughed into his mouth like you were going to stay long enough to see the sun rise twice. You touched him like you wanted to know him— not just his body, but the quiet parts. The wrecked parts.

He looks up at the ceiling.

White. Blank. Endless.

And he wonders...

Did you have a good visit?

Because he knows you had a good time.

And he’ll keep wondering why it wasn’t enough to make you stay.

-----

tagging: @kimmyneutron@babyspiderling @queensunshinee @hanneh69 @jamespotteraliveversion @glennussy @awaywithtime @artstennisracket @artdonaldsonbabygirl @blastzachilles @jordiemeow

[nvrngl]

˚ · .˚ ༘ 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

synopsis. payback has soldier boy shinning on stage--but offstage, you're the only thing keeping him from falling apart... or becoming the monster everyone fears.

pairing. the boys ﹢ soldier boy x reader ﹢ angst

wordcount. 829

warnings. possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, ptsd mentions, co-dependency, fame-related pressure, cursing, implied emotional neglect, a very messy, toxic relationship.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞. heavily inspired by the song monster by shawn mendes n justin bieber

The crowd’s still screaming when you leave the stage.

Their roars echo through the concrete halls of the venue like some twisted lullaby made of ego and adrenaline. You can still hear them chanting his name—Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, like he’s the second coming of Christ in a bulletproof cape. You know that look in his eye when he bathes in it, soaked in adoration like it’s a drug. He’s high on it, again.

And just like every other time, he left you standing in the wings. Smile painted on. Invisible.

You storm down the corridor, heels pounding against the floor, fingers trembling as you yank open the greenroom door. The scent of cigar smoke and cologne smacks you in the face—him. Always him.

The mirror lights flicker overhead. You cross your arms and wait.

“You done playing the national treasure out there,” you say coldly, “or should I come back when the applause dies down?”

Ben strolls in behind you like he didn’t just kiss a senator’s wife on the hand for the cameras while you stood offstage like a damn accessory. He peels off his gloves slowly, theatrically, like it’s foreplay.

He doesn’t answer. Just smirks.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you bite. “You think I’m pissed about the kiss? It’s not the kiss, Ben.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” he drawls, tossing the gloves on the couch. “Go on, then.”

You spin to face him, fury boiling under your skin. “It’s the fact that once the spotlight’s on, I disappear. You hold my hand in private and drop it the second there’s a crowd.”

“It’s not personal. It’s PR.”

“No, it’s cowardice.”

He blinks.

And there it is—that flicker of something behind his eyes. The part of him that’s never really grown up. Still 20-something and drowning in medals and expectations, still that golden boy who never learned how to love without performance.

“You put me on a pedestal,” you say, voice shaking. “Told me I was different. Made me feel like I mattered. And then you tear it all down the second it threatens your image.”

His jaw flexes, but he says nothing. You’re not done.

“I spill my guts, and you act like I’m the one being unreasonable. You rearrange me, Ben. Break me into pieces just so I’ll fit into your perfect soldier-boy narrative.”

“You done?”

“No. Not even close.”

You stalk closer, the air between you electric, suffocating.

“You say it’s pressure, the fans, the job—yeah, I get it. But what happens when you fall, huh? What if you trip? What if the crowd turns? Are you still the hero then? Or are you the monster they always warned us about?”

His voice drops, dark and low. “Then I guess I’m the fucking monster.”

You flinch. Not at the words—but at how easily he says them.

Like he’s rehearsed it.

Like maybe, deep down, he’s always believed it.

“You want to be worshipped for your strength,” you whisper. “But you can’t handle being seen for your weakness.”

He moves before you can react, caging you between him and the mirror, his arms on either side of you. Not touching, not yet, but it’s a threat. A plea. A desperate need to still be close, even while everything crumbles between you.

“You’re not just some fling,” he says, voice cracking like ice. “You’re the only person who knows who I really am.”

“And that should scare you,” you murmur. “Because I’m starting to wish I didn’t.”

Something flickers in him then—something real, raw and wounded and angry. “You think I want this? You think I wanted to be the country’s weapon, some overhyped mascot who can’t even go to sleep without hearing screams in his head?”

His breath is shallow, panicked.

“I came in with good intentions,” he whispers. “I swear to God, I tried.”

You believe him.

That’s the worst part.

Because Ben’s a walking contradiction. A bleeding heart wrapped in titanium armor. He wants to be good, but he doesn’t know how to get there without leaving a trail of collateral damage.

“I won’t let you ruin me,” you say, quieter now. “I won’t bleed myself dry just to keep you from falling apart.”

A beat passes.

And then, quietly:

“Don’t let me fall.”

Your eyes close. Because he always says it like a prayer, like he still thinks you can save him.

You turn slowly, facing him, the warmth of his chest almost brushing yours. Your fingers find the hem of his jacket, gripping it just enough to keep from walking away.

“You’re not the monster,” you whisper, voice trembling. “But you keep acting like one.”

He exhales like you punched the breath out of him. His forehead falls to yours, touch tender where his words never are.

“I’m trying,” he murmurs.

And god help you, part of you still hopes he means it.

But another part? The smarter part?

It’s already bracing for the next time he lets go.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ navigation : all works ; guidelines ; let's be friends .ᐟ

[maxillness]

🇦🇺 || Treat You Better || LN4 OP81 x Reader

Warnings: Angst (ish), 18+, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, sub!oscar, praise kink,

Wordcount: 1.4k

Part 3 of Nattely and I Don’t Forgive You

He won’t lie to her, he just know he’s not right for her

Oscar could see it on her face when she says he’s the one that she wants

She’s spending all her time in the wrong situation

“I broke up with him” He heard her says from the other end of the call

I know I can treat you better

“I’m sorry” He sighed “I’m in Monaco, want me to come over?”

“If it’s no problem”

He was there in a matter of minutes, speeding over to her, not wanting her to be alone

“I’m an idiot” She cried, spilling her tears out as she was hurtled up into Oscar’s arms

“You’re not an idiot” He said, hand soothing her hair

“Why didn’t I notice earlier?” Her head was starting to hurt from the crying

Her crying had settled for a while, but still in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against his

“Any girl like you deserves a gentleman” He said, feeling her body get heavy against his

Feeling her body heavy against his, and hearing her small snores, she lifted her up and put her gently under the sheets on her bed

“Goodnight” He whispered, softly pulling her hair away from her face

It was a few weeks later when he got a call from her “What’s up?” He picked up the phone almost immediately

“He was here. Said he missed me. Wanted to be friends again. Admitted to not wanting me back”

Just let me treat you better

“Here’s what I’m gonna do. Next time I’m in Monaco, I’m gonna come by with ice cream, okay?” He offered, hearing her light sniffle

“That would be great”

He did just that. He came by her apartment with ice cream. They sat on the couch, stuffing their faces with ice cream, talking about everything and nothing

At some point, the alcohol had joined them. They had scooted closer, knees brushing each other, sending shivers down his spine

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, seeing his zoned out state, but still looking at her

“Nothing” He answered, obviously lying as he looked down into the almost empty ice cream

“Tell me” Her finger hooked under his chin, making him look up at her

He sighed, but spoke up anyways “I’ll stop time for you. The second you say you’d like me too” Her hand dropped from his face

“I just wanna give you the loving that you’re missing. Baby, just to wake up with you would be everything in need, and this could be so different” He looked with fear into her eyes, waiting for a response

“Tell me what you want to do” She said, leaning closer to him

He didn’t answer, to caught up with colour in her eyes, and the feeling of the bubble in his throat

“Oscar… Don’t be shy, tell me what you want” She smiled, getting fully in his lap, legs on either sides of his thighs

Her arms were around his neck, his hands on her waist, eyes so innocent they looked like puppy eyes

“You” She could see the blush starting to creep up on his cheeks and down his neck “I know I can treat you better than he ever did”

“Any man with a good soul can” She leaned in, titling her head slightly to the side, closing her eyes as their lips made contact

“Do I have a good soul?” He asked softly as she pulled back

“Very much so” She nodded, pulling him in for a deeper kiss “The best” She repositioned herself, allowing her to get closer to him

Her tongue glided across his bottom lip, access given immediately, without hesitation

Her tongue felt spongy against his. The kiss had gotten more sloppy and wet like this, saliva pooling in the corners of their mouths

Her lips moved over his jaw and down to his neck. The way her lips moved on his skin drew out light moans from him

“We should move to the bedroom” She said between kisses, starting to stand up “Come on” She took his hands pulling him up

Their lips attached again as she guided them into the bedroom. She closed the door with her foot before pushing him down softly, making him sit on the foot of the bed

“You’re so beautiful” She whispered as she got in his lap again, hands under his shirt, pulling it over his head

She noticed the blush that deepened at her words “So fucking beautiful” She chuckled slightly at the whimper he let out

She pushed him softly down so he was laying on his back, her lips attaching to his neck, slowly moving over his throat and down his chest

She had gotten off the bed, styled between his legs on her knees, lips trailing down just above the waistband of his jeans

She disconnected her lips from his skin, looking up at him as her hands fiddled with his belt

She unbuckled it, moving to his button and zipper. He bucked his hips, giving her access to pull down both his pants and boxers at the same time

Beautiful brown doe eyes were looking down at her as she spit in her palm, attaching her hand around his hard cock, drawing out a whimper from him

Her other hand held his hip as she kissed the insides of his thighs, hand on his cock starting to move, throwing his head back, closing his eyes

The soft moans and whimpers he let out were like music to her ears

She slid her thumb over his slit, a loud moan leaving his lips, her name rolling off his tongue, in a breathless whimper

“Please, I need your mouth, please” He looked down at her, lost in her eyes

She granted him his wish, her mouth attaching around him, starting to slowly move, louder moans starting to fill the apartment

“Please- fuck… Just like that- Ah” His hips were starting to shutter as his thighs shook and he started twitching inside her mouth

“Fuck, I’m gonna come. Please, I’m so close” He had a hard time keeping still as she moved

Her tongue traced the vein up his cock, sending him over the edge with her name rolling off on his tongue with a loud moan, shooting his cum down her throat

She swallowed and stood up before quickly removing all of her clothes, Oscar laying tiredly on the bed, chest still heaving from his quick breathing

She got in his lap, hovering of his body, making him open his eyes and look up at her

“You okay, Osc?” She asked, kissing his lips softly

“Mhm… I can give you one more” He said, hands softly tracing her sides, landing on her hips

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to” She said, caressing his cheek with her thumb

“N-no, I want to, want to make you feel way better than he ever did” He said, encouraging her to take him back into her hand

She drew the tip of his cock through her folds, making him moan as he was still sensitive from his orgasm

She slowly slid down on him, both moaning at the sensation of him inside her

She started moving, nails digging into his chest as Oscar’s nails dug into her hips, not able to keep their moans down

“Fuck- Never imagined you to sound so good” She praised, making him whimper, bucking his hips up into her

She leaned down, putting her arms in wait her side of his head, lips attaching to his neck

This new position made her clit rub against his pelvic bone, giving her more pleasure, moaning loudly beside his ear

“Please- fuck- ‘m so close” He said, starting to twitch inside her as his hands went to rest at her ass, squeezing her slightly

He let out a high-pitched moan when she clenched around him “Please- I need- I need to come, please”

“Come for me” She placed open-mouthed kisses on the exposed skin on his neck, giving him a few more rolls of her hips as he came deep inside her

The feeling of his cum filling her up sent her over the edge, rapidly clenching around him as she came

She laid down beside him on her side, propping her head up on her hand, the other softly pulling the hair out of his face

His brown eyes looked at her with such adoration she never got from Lando, or anybody for that matter

[itoshiexx]

wonder

synopsis: sae wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 800 | warnings: established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, sae is stupidly in love with u

notes: why hello! i'm barely alive! i know i kinda disappeared but i was struggling with personal issues and my mental health, so i didn't really have creativity to write. i'm not sure i like this either, but i couldn't let sae bae's bday go by without posting anything. also this is slightly inspired by the song "wonder - shawn mendes". thank you for your love and patience! <3

masterlist

there are certain things itoshi sae would never admit. like the way he loved calm walks at the beach or how seagulls were his favorite animal. how he secretly regret hurting his little brother’s feelings when he was a stupid teenager. how his life was way lonelier than the world could even imagine, making him hate the walls of his oh so empty apartment.

mostly, he would never admit he wondered what it was like to be loved — not just by anyone, though, but to be loved by you.

he’s not sure when it started. he can’t pinpoint the exact moment his heart began beating faster and his black and white world was filled with color, but he does know that, inevitably, it all comes back to you, like you’re some sort of big bang that created his whole existence. itoshi sae doesn’t think he was actually himself before he became yours.

if you ask him, he’d say it’s a bit pathetic, really. he was never a guy that cared about romance, and he definitely didn’t believe in the concept of a love that could sweep you off your feet, like the hollywood movies desperately tried to sell. perhaps one of the reasons he liked you so much was because you managed to prove him wrong, and not many people were able to do that. 

sae was usually right. but you, in his life — that was even more right than his stupid beliefs. 

“sae, i need to get up,” your voice breaks him from his stupor, and, instinctively, his hold on your waist tightens. it’s some sort of protection, he thinks. not to you, but to protect him from the pain of having you stray away. 

(he never wants to let go).

the football player twists his body to trap you even further on the mattress, burying his face on your chest and tangling his legs with yours. your giggle reverberates through his whole body and brings warmth to his cheeks. his heart flutters, and he can’t even find it in him to hate it. 

you must have put a spell on him, he concludes.

“i’m serious. i need to make breakfast,” you say again when he doesn’t answer.

“don’t wanna.”

“you don’t want breakfast?”

“nuh-uh.”

you giggle again, and this time, you seem to give in, relaxing your body and welcoming him in your embrace. sae can only sigh in satisfaction when you card your fingers through his reddish-brown locks, relishing in the peace only you seem to be able to give him.

“i wonder what people would think if they knew how clingy the all mighty itoshi sae can be,” the teasing lit in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you earn a scoff.

“shut up,” he quips, although there’s no real bite in it. “you love me.”

and you must not be from this world, because it’s easy — the way you pick up on any slight nuance of his voice or demeanor. it’s so fucking easy for you to read him like an open book and to give the reassurance he so desperately needs; albeit unaware. 

your voice becomes impossibly soft, “i do, baby. i love you so much.”

you kiss his forehead, and after wandering around for so long, sae thinks he’s finally home. 

for a while, you two just stay there, in bed, wrapped in each other in a way you can’t know where he starts and where you end. the thought of being one with you makes him happy, but that’s just another item in his long list of things he would never admit. 

your sweet voice breaks the silence. 

“we’re gonna be in bed all day?” there’s nothing but pure curiosity in your voice. no judgment — you never judge him, despite the way he deserves it sometimes. the thought makes his chest tighten with the amount of love he has harbored just for you.

sometimes he thinks he’s too small for it, and he’s scared all this love will overflow and consume him whole. though, it’s even scarier to think he wouldn’t mind: sae is yours. you can have all that he has and all that he is. 

“just a little longer,” he whispers, a little more vulnerable than he would like. but it’s okay. it’s always okay when it’s you. “please?”

you hum in agreement, continuing to caress his hair. 

“of course. whatever the birthday boy wants.”

sae allows himself to close his eyes and bask in your warmth, on the safety that you so effortlessly gave him. by smelling your perfume, he’s filled with gratitude for all the times he wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

“happy birthday, love.”

he’s glad he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[fairyrcts]

WHY WHY WHY , M.S.

by fairyrcts contents - (unresolved) angst , intended lowercase , pet names , 2nd person , pregnancy , cursing

warning ! - this may be triggering to some readers as this story does include pregnancy and abandonment. please read with caution.

an - i unironically love shawn mendes and i needed some dad matt stuff :P

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274

you'd woken up feeling absolutely terrible. you were sick to your stomach, throwing up every now and then.

matt sat on the bathroom floor beside you, rubbing your back in attempt to sooth you.

"this is so weird. you were just fine yesterday." he mumbled to himself.

"i fuckin' know."

you had no idea what came over you today. no one at work was sick, you hadn't eaten anything bad. you were confused as to why this was happening.

matthew knew you hadn't been in contact with anyone who was ill and you hadn't even left the house in a day or two, so he was confused himself.

he felt terrible that all this was happening to you. "do you think it might just be your period?"

his voice took you out of your thoughts. no, it wasn't your period. in fact, you were late. four days late to your period.

"uh, no. i'm pretty sure i'm late." you spoke quietly, scared of the response to what you had just admitted.

matt took a second to process the words that had left your mouth. he began racking his brain with the possibilities.

"do you think you're.. pregnant?" he could barely bring himself to say the word. he wasn't ready to be a father whatsoever.

the words hit you hard. pregnant?

"i dunno.." you managed to let out.

matt's breath audibly caught in his throat. "i- do you wanna get a test?"

you avoided the question for a moment, not knowing if you were even ready to find out.

"yeah, okay." a sigh followed your sentence.

the two of you stood up, walking out to the car in silence. he didn't bother opening your door like he usually does or ask what song you felt like playing.

he was insanely stressed. you'd only been dating 8 months but you were incredibly connected.

you'd moved in together a while back, you'd both met each others parents and to say you loved each other was an understatement.

but becoming parents? that's a completely different story.

he pulled the car into the cvs parking lot. "i'll be right back." he muttered to which you nodded.

when he exited the vehicle, you were left alone with your thoughts.

you knew you probably weren't ready for this big of a thing. having a kid together was huge and you were barely even an adult.

but deep down you knew if that test came out positive, you'd make yourself ready for the situation. and you had no doubt that you and matt could handle this within time.

right?

matthew came back with two boxes in his hand. "i got two just in case."

he gave you a tight-lipped smile to try and give you some sense of comfort. he was aware you were probably as nervous as he was.

you reciprocated that smile and drove the rest of the way home in silence.

the second you walked into your apartment you let out a deep exhale. you knew this was gonna be a heavy moment.

"uhm, okay. i'll- uh. i'll wait on the couch." matt said, finally managing to make eye contact with you for the first time in fifteen minutes, giving you some hope.

while you were in the bathroom, matt mentally lost it. he had no absolute idea how he was going to handle this if it came back positive.

he began biting his already less than short nails even farther down to the nub. he bit back his lip to keep tears from streaming down his face.

after a couple of moments, he turned his head at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

you stood in the doorway with a nervous look written all over you.

"matt, i'm pregnant." you spoke just above a whisper.

his eyes widened at the new found information.

"seriously?" he allowed himself to choke out.

you gave him a nod, a smile just barely noticeable on your face as you thought about how great this could turn out to be for the two of you.

"y/n, i'm not ready to be a dad. i'm barely 21, i can't be a fucking father." matt stood up, running a hand through his disheveled, brown hair.

your face immediately faltered. "what?"

"i'm not capable of taking care of children right now. i still have my whole life to live." he raised his voice ever so slightly, but enough to cause a few tears to leave your eyes.

"you don't have a choice. you act like this isn't partially on you too!" the words left your lips as you became more and more upset by his reaction.

this is nowhere near how you imagined this would go.

this is not the matt you knew. the matt you knew would tell you it's okay and would support you through the situation.

"it was a mistake! i can't do this!" you weren't the only one crying now as the conversation got more intense.

"that's too damn bad! you have a kid now, matthew! man up!"

matt simply shook his head, looking like he was ready to break down completely.

"i don't know what to fucking tell you, y/n." his voice came out shaky.

"tell me we're in this together! that you and i can get through this! we're a team, remember? what happened to that?!"

"what happened was you got pregnant!" he shouted, regretting what he had said instantly.

"you're telling me that all of a sudden everything between you and i has changed i'm pregnant? mind you, the person responsible for this was you!"

matt remained silent, not even knowing how to respond.

you tried your best not to lose it in front of him before he spoke up again, this time quieter.

"fucking say something, matthew!" you yelled, the words getting croaked up in your throat due to the amount of sobbing taking place.

"i'm sorry, i can't do this."

and with that, he left the apartment, leaving you alone, sobbing in your living room.

[sweetiepoison]

Famous Baby (social media blurb)

Who’s (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n) Dating Now?

(Y/f/n) (y/l/n) has been in the spotlight since she was 15 so it’s no surprise her relationships have been as well. From first love to whirlwind romance , we’ve seen it all from the singing sensation. She’s mainly been in serious relationships, but the lineup is impressive.

Shawn Mendes

(Y/l/n) and Mendes came into the spotlight around the same time. The pair met, instantly hit it off, and became the new young Hollywood “it” couple. They dated for three years from 2014-2017 and wrote a few of their hit songs about each other. (Y/f/n)’s song ‘Dandelions’ on her debut album is about Mendes. The love wasn’t one sided though, as Mendes reveled many of his love songs were about (y/l/n). After winning an American Music Award, Mendes said, “All of my songs are about her, so this award is as much hers as it is mine, she’s my inspiration.

We loved watching their young love romance evolve, but the two split in early 2017. (Y/f/n) discussed the breakup on the Jimmy Fallon show. “We just realized we were growing apart and going in different directions, but he will always hold a special place in my heart as my first love and no can ever replace that.”

Harry Styles

The British singer is (y/l/n)’s longest and most high profile relationship. The two began dating at the end of 2017 and remained together for four years before breaking things off. Their love caught the attention of the world and had many talking. It’s believed Styles hit song, Adore you is about (y/l/n) before they were official.

The couple raised the bar for relationships. Harry took (y/f/n) on a vacation to Greece for her 21st birthday. Which she followed up by throwing him a massive surprise party with all of his close friends and family. When asked about their relationship in an interview (y/l/n) said, “Harry is the type of boyfriend girls dream of. He loves me so well and he wears his heart on his sleeves which is beautiful.”

The breakup came as a surprise to many as it seemed the couple was going strong. It didn’t last for long though as they got back together at the end of 2022 before finally calling it quits mid 2023. Neither have revealed why they split, but both have remained consistent and committed to supporting each other.

Michael B. Jordan

During her brief break with Harry, (y/f/n) dated Creed actor, Michael B. Jordan. Despite the 11 year age gap the couple had a lot in common and spent plenty of special occasions together. Jordan helped her celebrate her 24th birthday where we got their most infamous pictures together as a couple.

The relationship lasted 10 months before they broke up and (y/l/n) was back with Styles. Despite the sudden end Jordan had only good things to say, “She’s an amazing, hardworking woman who deserves all the success she’s had.”

Auston Matthews

The newest boyfriend on the list may be NHL superstar, Auston Matthews. An insider reveals they saw Matthews and (y/l/n) at a bar together in Toronto. They were with a group of friends including Justin and Hailey Bieber, but the two seemed particularly close. The pair was also spotted leaving together at the end of the night. While nothing is confirmed, we could definitely get behind this match.

[asriel-2]

I Can Treat You Better

Paring: Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: You’re speaking to Jenna about your ex boyfriend that broke up with you. Things seem to escalate from then on.

Warning: Profanity

Authors Note: Ngl, I got lazy and rushed a bit. So I apologize if there is any mistakes.🫡

Words counted: 1.4K

You and Jenna were bestfriends since childhood. No matter the situation you both would be there for each other.

And of course you call her to meet up with you, and talk about your toxic relationship with your boyfriend. Well ex boyfriend.

There was a thing about your best friend that you didn’t know. Jenna had been falling for you hard. Ever since you were kids and it never seemed like her feelings for you would stop anytime soon.

When she heard you got a boyfriend she was absolutely devastated, but she knew that she needed to stay positive and supportive for the sake of your friendship.

So when she heard you guys broke up she couldn’t help, but feel a little relieved.

You’re currently here with Jenna, sitting at a table in a restaurant, gossiping about how toxic he was, while Jenna listens.

“I can’t believe I even dated that guy. He was a fucking jerk. I was just too blind to notice,” You rolled your eyes to the thought of him and grumbled as you took a sip of your drink.

“Yeah, Y/N from the way you described him he is a total asshole, I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Jenna commented.

“I know right!? Who the hell does he think he is, moving on so fast. Actually.. I’m going to see who he decided to leave me for, I feel sorry for them.”

As you pick up your phone to go look you kept on rambling about him, but Jenna still seemed to listen no matter how much you talked, not taking her eyes off you for even a second.

Jenna finally decides to speak again after you’ve been angrily talking about your ex.

“I can treat you better than he can,” Jenna says quietly but loud enough for you to hear.

You then put down your phone, and look at your friend after those words came out of her mouth.

“What did you say, Jen?,” You looked at Jenna Ortega with confusion.

You were so oblivious to Jenna’s feelings towards you.

Jenna finally snaps out of her loving gaze she was staring at you with, and immediately started to think about something to cover up what she just said.

“I meant that he treated you shitty. If I were him I wouldn’t have ever thought of leaving,”

“Oh, exactly! I was such a good girlfriend to him. Still he chose to be disloyal.”

After you said that, there was some silence between you two until you spoke again.

“Yknow I’m so glad we’re friends, Jen,”

As those words left your mouth Jenna couldn’t help, but smile. “Im glad too, Y/N,”

There’s a thing about you that made her fall in love. You always made her feel wanted when she was with you. You were truly a great friend to her. She just wishes you both could be more.

You smile back at her, but then you soon realized that you had to get back to your house, because you were about to have company over.

“Shit! I lost track of time. I’m sorry but I have to leave. I’ll text you when I get home.”

You grabbed your things, quickly pay for the bill, and leave. But not without giving Jenna a hug.

Jenna wished that hug would’ve lasted longer but fully understood you had other places to be. And with that, Jenna also puts all her stuff in her purse and returns to her apartment.

She went ahead and hopped in the shower for 30 minutes, and then went to get dressed in her pajamas to relax.

Jenna checked her phone, and saw the message you left for her 10 minutes ago.

It read, “Me family came. sorre that we could not had talke more longer :(”

jenna saw the message, and texted her back, “No worries. Also Y/N your grammar is awful.”

“Go fuck yourself, Ortega”

Jenna snickers at your response, “no need to get angry Y/N, Im going to go to sleep, love you.”

Jenna texted that, and went ahead to close her phone. She laid down on her bed, about to go to sleep but she had a notification pop up on her screen saying,

“Love u toooo”

Jenna Ortega smiled brightly at the sight, and then went to sleep.

The next morning she was awaken to noise in her kitchen. She lives alone.

She knew being famous would mean meeting crazy fans, but not a person breaking into her home!

The poor girl was already jumping into conclusions.

She quickly grabbed her pepper spray and walked slowly to the kitchen, and saw that the persons back was facing towards her.

The mysterious person turns around when they heard footsteps stop. As they do, they get sprayed in the eye with pepper spray.

It turns out it was just you making breakfast for Jenna.

Once Jenna noticed it was you she immediately threw the pepper spray on the ground.

You screamed in agony as you fell on the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK, JEN!?”

Jenna may had forgot that she gave you the keys to her apartment.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!”

She quickly ran to get you water. As soon as you got the water you poured it on your eyes, hoping that the pain will go away.

Newsflash, it didn’t.

It still helped ease the pain though. Jenna kept on apologizing as she sat you down in her bedroom.

“Jenna please be quiet, it was an accident it’s fine”

“No Y/N that was completely my fault. I totally forgot that I gave you a key to my apartment. Yknow how fans are these days. Can you at least open your eyes”

“I’ll try,” You say as you opened both of your eyes, but not completely. All you saw when you opened your eyes was Jenna’s face close to yours.

Jenna obviously knew what she was doing but has to stay professional because she was the one who caused this.

“Just wait a few minutes. It’ll feel better. I’m sorry again”

You nodded, and closed your eyes again as your back laid down on Jenna’s bed.

It had been quiet for a few minutes and Jenna went ahead, and broke it.

“Y/N, can I just say something really quick. I know this isn’t the time, but you’re already here.”

You sighed and sat up in Jenna’s bed again, you could now open your eyes again without it hurting like hell, “Go ahead and say it, Jen.”

What you didn’t prepare for is that Jenna was about to confess her whole entire feelings to you.

The girl took a deep breath in before speaking, and she spoke quickly, “Y/N I can’t hold back my feelings for you anymore. I had feelings for you for a while, and I mean, a while. I know this isn’t the proper time, because I just pepper sprayed you, and your boyfriend broke up with you, but I feel like I wouldn’t have an opportunity like this again if I don’t say my feelings for you. I love you I really do. I can treat you better than those guys, if you just gave me the chance to do so.

You stared at Jenna with wide eyes, your mouth open in shock and you trying to process all that she said.

This is why she never spoke about her relationship status, this is why she avoided questions about having an crush, this is why.

It’s all starting to come together now.

You actually did not know what to do in this situation. Your best friend had romantic feelings for you. How could you be this dumb.

But then, Jenna let her inner thoughts win over her, and hesitated before grabbing both sides of your face and pulling you into a kiss.

You were even more stunned when she did that.

You felt her try to deepen the kiss and you instantly pull away.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t deal with this today..”

You quickly get off her bed and leave the apartment.

Leaving her disappointed and guilty on why would she do that and say that.

First your boyfriend broke up with you. Second, you get pepper sprayed by your bestfriend, because she thought you were an intruder. Lastly, that bestfriend confessed her feeling for you, and kissed you.

This is a lot to take in

[fanficlolsblog]

WE DON’T TALK ANYMORE

back to my main masterlist

pairing: fem singer!reader x taylor swift

summary: falling in love with taylor swift felt like a whirlwind, but when the pressure of fame and her struggle with coming out grew too much, you broke up. as she tried to move on with travis kelce, you both admitted to missing each other, but her jealousy over your friendship with shawn mendes created tension. despite the distance, you both realized that your love story wasn’t over and that there was still hope for a future together.

warnings: contains themes of unrequited love, heartbreak, and emotional distress, struggles of coming out, complexities of a relationship affected by fame, jealousy and emotion turmoil.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

w/c: 2.1k+

you never thought that falling in love with taylor swift would feel like stepping into a whirlwind. the world had always seen taylor as a perfect fairytale princess—her songs echoing tales of love, heartbreak, and personal struggles. but for you, she was so much more than that. taylor was the girl who stole your heart with a smile that could light up a room and laughter that made everything feel okay. you shared stolen moments, whispered secrets, and a love that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

the first time you and taylor kissed, it was in the dim light of her apartment, surrounded by the remnants of late-night songwriting. taylor had been nervous, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “are you sure about this?” she had asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“i’ve never been more sure,” you replied, pulling her closer, your lips brushing together softly. that kiss marked the beginning of something beautiful, yet complicated.

as the months passed, you and taylor navigated your relationship in the shadows, always careful to keep your love hidden from the public eye. you found solace in private moments—lazy afternoons spent cuddled up watching movies, spontaneous road trips, and the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. taylor would often write songs inspired by your time together, her lyrics weaving the essence of your love into melodies that resonated deep within your heart.

but as your love blossomed, so did the pressures of fame. taylor felt the weight of expectations, the scrutiny of the media, and the fear of coming out. you understood her struggles, but as time went on, the walls between you grew thicker. it became clear that taylor wasn’t ready to embrace her bisexuality publicly. the more you tried to be patient, the more the silence between you grew.

“i just need time,” taylor would say, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

“how much time?” you would ask, frustration creeping into your voice. “i can’t keep hiding, taylor. i love you, and i want the world to know.”

the conversations turned into arguments, and the love that once felt so strong started to fray at the edges. it hurt you to see taylor struggle, but it also hurt to feel like your love was being treated as a secret, as if it were something to be ashamed of.

finally, you reached a breaking point. one night, as you sat on the balcony of taylor’s apartment, staring at the stars, you made the hardest decision. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said, tears in your eyes. “i can’t keep waiting for you to be ready. it’s tearing me apart.”

taylor looked at you, her expression a mix of shock and sadness. “please don’t say that. i love you, but—”

“but you’re not ready,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “i can’t keep pretending. it’s not fair to either of us.”

that night, you parted with heavy hearts, a silence stretching between you that felt insurmountable. you walked away, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders, while taylor watched, knowing she had let go of something precious.

the weeks that followed were a blur for both of you. taylor tried to distract herself with her music, pouring her heart into her songs, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the void you left behind. she heard whispers about a new romance with travis kelce, a handsome athlete who seemed to have everything figured out. it felt like a desperate attempt to move on, but taylor knew the truth—her heart still belonged to you.

on the other hand, you struggled to breathe without taylor’s laughter and warmth. seeing her with travis in the headlines was like a dagger to the heart. every time you scrolled through social media, you were met with photos of the two of them together, laughing, enjoying life, while you felt like a ghost in the background.

“i just heard you found the one you’ve been looking for,” you sang softly to yourself one evening, the ache of longing flooding your chest. “i wish I would have known that wasn’t me.”

you would lie awake at night, haunted by memories of taylor’s smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy, and the warmth of her embrace. it was unbearable, knowing that she was moving on without you while you were still stuck in the past, replaying every moment you shared.

“why can’t I move on?” you wondered, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down your cheeks. “why can’t I let her go?”

the loneliness was suffocating, and with each passing day, the world felt a little darker without taylor’s light. you wished for the courage to reach out, to tell her how you truly felt, but fear held you back. what if taylor was happy with travis? what if she had moved on completely?

the pain of seeing taylor with someone else was a constant reminder of what you had lost. every time you caught a glimpse of her in the tabloids, smiling next to travis, it felt like a cruel twist of fate. you couldn’t help but wonder if she ever thought about you, if she missed your late-night talks and your shared dreams.

one night, as you sat alone in your room, you picked up your phone and hesitated. what if you sent a message? would it hurt more to reach out, or would it provide the closure you desperately needed? finally, with shaking fingers, you typed out a simple message: i miss you.

after pressing send, anxiety washed over you. what if taylor didn’t feel the same? what if she was truly happy with travis? you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too late, that your moment had passed.

but to your surprise, taylor responded almost immediately. i miss you too.

the floodgates opened, and soon you were exchanging messages late into the night, your words filled with longing and regret. it felt like old times, like you were reconnecting the pieces of a love that had been shattered.

despite the distance and the silence that had stretched between you, you realized that your love for taylor had never truly faded. it was still there, waiting, just beneath the surface. as you talked, hope began to blossom anew. maybe it wasn’t too late for you both. maybe love could find a way back.

in that moment, you understood that your story wasn’t over. the road ahead might be rocky, but you were willing to fight for the love that had once burned so brightly between you. you couldn’t forget about taylor, and perhaps, just maybe, she felt the same way.

the late-night messages between you and taylor flowed for weeks, reigniting feelings you thought were long buried. but the more you talked, the more you felt the weight of her new relationship with travis pressing down on you. you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was unfair to her, that being in constant contact with her would only complicate things more. you didn’t want to be the reason she felt guilty about her new life.

one night, as you sat on your bed strumming your guitar, you started writing a song. the lyrics spilled out of you like a torrent of emotions, reflecting your heartbreak, your longing, and the bitter truth that you and taylor had become strangers. we don’t talk anymore, you wrote, each line dripping with the pain of loss. it felt cathartic to put your feelings into words, but the more you wrote, the more you realized that this song was your goodbye.

you reached out to shawn mendes, a friend and fellow musician, hoping he could help you shape the song into something meaningful. when you asked, he didn’t hesitate. “of course, i’d love to help,” he replied with a supportive grin. “i know how much this means to you.”

together, you poured over the lyrics, crafting melodies and harmonies that captured the essence of your lost love. shawn’s presence brought comfort, and as you worked, you felt a sense of healing in creating something beautiful out of your pain. but deep down, a nagging guilt lingered in your mind. you were hanging out with another musician, and the thought made your heart heavy. you didn’t want to be the person who came between them, even if your connection with taylor was special.

as you finished the song, you decided it was time to take a step back from your conversations with taylor. you couldn’t bear the thought of being a temptation for her, so you quietly withdrew, letting the silence settle between you once more. it felt like a dagger to your heart, but you knew it was for the best.

when the song was ready, you released it, pouring all your emotions into the music video, which reflected your journey of love and loss. the haunting melody and poignant lyrics resonated with fans, and soon, it began to gain traction online.

but the moment you shared the song, taylor saw it. she scrolled through social media one afternoon, and her heart sank as she came across pictures of you and shawn hanging out. your smiles, your laughter, the undeniable chemistry—it all struck a nerve. jealousy burned inside her, igniting feelings she thought she had buried beneath her new relationship.

we don’t talk anymore played in the background as she watched video clips of you two, the lyrics echoing her pain. taylor felt a mix of emotions: anger, longing, and a deep sense of loss. how could you move on so easily when she was still reeling from the end of your relationship? she scrolled through your posts, her mind racing with thoughts of what could have been.

every time taylor saw you and shawn together, the jealousy swelled within her. she couldn’t shake the image of you laughing and sharing moments with someone else, and it hurt her more than she could admit. travis noticed her distraction, the way her smile faltered when he mentioned you in passing. “are you alright?” he asked one evening, concern etched on his face.

“of course,” taylor replied, forcing a fake smile. inside, her heart was breaking, and she struggled to hide her true feelings. deep down, she knew she wasn’t just jealous of your success; she missed you, the connection you shared, the intimacy that seemed irreplaceable.

as days turned into weeks, the silence between you and taylor grew heavier. she found herself staring at her phone, hoping for a message that never came. you had put up walls to protect her from guilt, but the absence of your voice left her feeling hollow. you had become a ghost in her life, and the ache of your absence gnawed at her.

taylor played the song over and over, the lyrics haunting her thoughts. it became her anthem of longing, a painful reminder of what she had lost and what could never be again. each time she sang along, she felt the tears sting her eyes, realizing how much she missed the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your dreams.

one night, after a particularly long day, taylor sat down with her guitar. she began to strum the chords that had become familiar to her, attempting to write her own song. but as she tried to find the words, all she could think about was you. the memories flooded back—your smile, your embrace, the way you understood her like no one else ever could.

“why can’t we just talk anymore?” she whispered into the silence, feeling the weight of her unspoken feelings.

as time passed, it became clear that neither of you could truly move on. you focused on your music, finding solace in your art, while taylor fought against the whirlwind of emotions that surrounded her. she missed you, and it hurt to know that you were trying to find happiness with someone else.

in that moment of realization, taylor understood that she had to make a choice. she couldn’t keep pretending that everything was okay. if she wanted to find peace, she needed to confront her feelings and, maybe, just maybe, reach out to you again.

but as she made that decision, she also knew it wouldn’t be easy. the lines had been drawn, and the world was watching. could she find the courage to step away from travis and follow her heart back to you? the journey ahead would be uncertain, but deep down, she felt a spark of hope that your love could be reignited. and for now, that was enough.

[castielscaplan]

Caplans Playlist Challenge

Rules:

tag me in the authors notes with the hashtag #CaplansPlaylistChallenge

Please tag the proper warnings before the fic

Please include a summary for your fic.

Can be ANY CHARACTER/FANDOM YOU'D LIKE!!

More than one person can write for the same prompts

If you’d like to write for more than one song, please make them separate fics

Can be however long you’d like the fic to be. But PLEASE use the readmore feature if over 400 words.

No deadlines, but please keep me updated!

also, please reblog this challenge for others to see!

Addicted to you - simple plan

Alone together fall out boy

Animals maroon 5

Ashes of Eden Breaking Benjamin 

Adore You Harry Styles

All of Me John Legend

Anti- Hero Taylor Swift

Attention Charlie Puth

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Bad guy Billie Eilish 

Bad things Jace Everett

Bartender T-Pain

Bedchem Sabrina Carpenter

Before he cheats Carrie Underwood 

Before you go Lewis Capaldi 

Better than me hinder

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Cardigan Taylor Swift

Car radio twenty one pilots 

Church fall out boy

Clumsy Fergie

Collide Howie Day

Come & get it Selena Gomez

Crazy Patsy Cline  

Criminal Fiona Apple 

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Dancing on my Own Calum Scott

Dandelions Ruth B.

Deja vu Olivia Rodrigo  

Diary Tino Coury 

Dirty laundry Carrie underwood 

Dirty thoughts Chloe Adams

Drivers license Olivia rodrigo 

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Easy on Adele 

Eh, Eh, (Nothing Else I Can Say) Lady Gaga

Empty Walls Serj Takien

End of Beginnings Djo 

Espresso Sabrina Carpenter

Every breath you take the police . 

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Faint Linkin Park

Fall for you secondhand serenade

Fallin Alicia keys 

Falling Trevor Daniel

Fast car Tracy Chapman 

Feather Sabrina Carpenter

Flowers Miley Cyrus 

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Ghost Justin Beiber

Give Me One Reason Tracy Chapman

Glimpse of us Joji

Good For You Olivia Rodrigo

Gone, Gone, Gone Phillip Phillips

--

Had Enough Breaking Benjamin

happier Olvia Rodrigo

Harder to Breathe Maroon 5

Heartbreak anniversary giveon 

Heaven Kane brown   

--

I fall apart post Malone 

I miss you blink 182

I see red everybody loves an outlaw 

I’m not the only one Sam smith  

I’m yours alessia cara 

--

Jealous nick jonas 

Juno Sabrina Carpenter

Just one yesterday fall out boy 

Just the way you are Bruno mars 

--

Keep Holding On Avril Lavigne 

The Kill 30 Seconds to Mars

Kiss From a Rose Seal

Kissing In Cars Pierce the Viel

Killer queen Queen 

--

The last of the real ones 

Leave the door open Bruno mars 

Leavin’ Jesse McCartney 

Like I can Sam smith

Lips of an angel hinder

Little do you know Alex & sierra 

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Mama's broken heart Miranda lambert

Man down Rihanna

Misery Maroon 5

My Boo usher & Alicia key

--

Needed Me Rihanna 

Never gonna be alone Nickelback

New Rules Dua Lipa 

Not Over You Gavin DeGraw

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Obsessed Mariah Carey

One Call Away Charlie Puth

One More Night Maroon 5

Our Song Taylor Swift

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Paparazzi Lady Gaga

Picture KidRock & Sherry Crow 

PillowTalk Zayn Malik 

Please Don’t Leave Me Pink

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Red Taylor Swift 

Remember the time Michael Jackson

Rolling in the deep Adele 

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Say My Name Destiny’s Child

Say So Doja Cat 

She’s Got You Patsy Cline

Stay With Me Sam Smith

Smokin out the Window Bruno Mars 

Someone You Loved Lewis Capaldi

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Take a Bow Rihanna

Take Me to Church Hozier

There’s Nothing Holdin Me Back Shawn Mendes

Too Good at Goodbyes Sam Smith

Trip Ella Mae

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Unfaithful RIhanna

Unholy Sam smith

Unsteady X Ambassadors

Uptown Girl Billy Joel

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Wait For You Elliot Yamin

Walk Me Home P!NK

Walkin After Midnight Patsy Cline

Want U Back Cher Lloyd

What a Man Gotta Do Jonas Brothers

What Ifs Kane Brown

Wolves Selena Gomex

Would You Go With Me? Josh Turner

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You and Me Lifehouse

You Found Me The Fray

You Had Me @ Hello A Day to Remember

You Sang to Me Marc Anthony

You're Still the One Shania Twain