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sunrizef1 · 7 months ago

Text

Lost in Japan

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Warnings: None, cursing

Authors Note: I was almost done with a max fic and this song overtook my mind until I finished this. Also trust, I will be using bear as a nickname for Oscar in every fic from now on.

Summary: Lost in Japan by Shawn Mendes

Word Count: 5.1k (this was supposed to be short)

Oscar was bored. Lando was off celebrating a successful weekend somewhere out in the city of Shanghai while Oscar was sat alone in his hotel room waiting for the flight McLaren has organized to get him back to England. He hadn’t won. He hadn’t even gotten a podium. So there wasn’t much for him to be exactly thrilled about. So instead, he was just scrolling through his phone, checking various social media apps before he finally landed on Instagram.

He clicked on the first Instagram story at the top of his page, which happened to be Lando’s. He ignored the pictures of him celebrating at some party, tapping through the various shots of him getting more and more inebriated. He was with Max and Charles at the party so Oscar wasn’t too concerned. He clicks through a few more people stories before landing on a specific one that makes him slow down.

Oscar stares at his phone screen, eyes glazing over your Instagram story. He’s clicking through passively, pausing as he gets to one of you at dinner the night before. He lets it play out but quickly clicks back when he notices the Tokyo, Japan tag that you’ve placed near the top of the screen.

As Oscar stares at the picture, trying to take in every detail, he’s struck by an idea. He clicks out of the app, opens up his messages and navigates to your contact, already standing up from his hotel room bed to grab his already packed suitcase.

It didn’t look like he’d be using that plane ticket back to England after all. He clicks the call button under your name, holding the phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he grabs his things, exiting the room after he slides his backpack on.

The phone rings for a bit too long, making Oscar slightly worried that you wouldn’t pick up but it does eventually connect and Oscar is met with the sound of your voice filtering through the phone speaker. The door shuts with a soft click behind the Aussie as he steps into the hallway.

“Hello, Oscar,” you hum through the phone. Oscar can practically hear the smirk on your lips even through the low quality iPhone speaker.

Oscar huffs a laugh at your tone, dragging his suitcase behind him as he walks down the hall, “Hi, y/n.”

"What can I do for you?” you ask and Oscar can hear shuffling from your end of the call. As the words leave your lips, he reaches the elevator, tapping the button on the wall to call it to his floor.

“Do you have plans tonight?” Oscar reaches the point quickly, trapping the phone back between his shoulder and ear as the elevator opens and he steps in, tapping the lobby button.

You pause for a second, proccessing the question and contemplating your answer, “Besides falling asleep in a few hours? Nope.”

Oscar hums, pulling the phone into his hands and typing impatiently into google as you speak. He finds the soonest, and nicest, flight to Japan he could, purchasing the ticket without a second thought.

“Why?”

Oscar freezes for a moment, looking up from the ticket he'd just bought to narrow his eyes at the elevator door, “I saw you're in Japan-”

“Oh, so you're stalking me now?” Oscar rolls his eyes as you laugh through your question, painting the image of your grinning face in the Aussies mind.

“Shut up, no, anyway-,” Oscar sighs, dragging his suitcase out of the elevator as it reaches the lobby, “Im in Shanghai, I thought I'd fly over to see you.”

Your silence on the other end of the line is deafening. Oscar even checks to make sure the call is still connected due to how quiet you were. Taking your lack of response as a bad sign, Oscar starts to ramble, hoping to do a bit of damage control, “Just because I'm only a couple hundred miles away and the race is over and I'm bored. Its just been so long since we were so close, especially during the season and I miss y-”

“When does your flight leave?”

Oscar, who’d frozen on the sidewalk outside the hotel, unfreezes to gesture for a taxi. It was only a five-minute drive to the airport from the place Mclaren had been staying so he hoped this wouldn't take too long. He mutes for a moment to tell the driver to take him to the airport. The driver nods, pulling away from the curb.

“Uhhhh-” Oscar navigates through his phone to check his flight details as he sits back in his seat, “Half an hour?”

“Ooh, you better hurry then,” You hum, a playful tone laced through your words, “Dont want to miss it.”

Oscar laughs happily, just glad to hear you joking along. He does find some reality in your words though, doing the math to see if he even had enough time to make his flight. He was honestly running on hopes and prayers at this point.

“What made you suddenly so inclined to fly to Japan on a random Sunday?” Your voice pulls Oscar out of his thoughts and he pauses, smiling abashedly as the answer comes to his head.

“Just can't get you off my mind.”

Oscar can’t see you. But if he could, he'd see a warm smile carved onto your face due to the warmth his statement had caused.

“I don't know Osc, I'm actually pretty tired. Might just head to bed,” Oscar rolls his eyes as you try and stifle your giggle.

“Do I need to convince you to stay awake, then?”

You huff a laugh, humming in affirmation, “I’d love to hear it.”

“Well,” Oscar starts, racking his mind for some suggestions of what to say to get you to agree to this, “You don't miss me?”

“I never said that,” You reply quickly. Oscar raises an eyebrow, head falling back against the seat as he trys not to groan.

“So you do miss me?”

You hum quietly, the sound almost too low for Oscar to hear it through the phone, “Maybe a little bit.”

The Aussie chuckles, “I thought so.”

“Can you blame me? It's been a while. I miss my favourite koala bear,” Oscar gets the sense that the words were meant to come out teasing but he can't help but notice how genuine they sound. He laughs nonetheless.

He's about to respond when the cab comes to a sudden stop and he looks out the window to see the airport in front of him.

“Shit, I'm here.”

Oscar swings his backpack onto his shoulders, rifling through a pocket to find enough cash to hand to the driver, not really considering an exact amount and, instead, just asking the driver if that was enough. When the driver tries to hand change back, Oscar leans away, grasping the door handle to swing the door open to get out. He grabs his suitcase as well, leaning down to shout back into the car.

“Keep the change, thanks mate!” Oscar shuts the door, dragging his suitcase behind him as the cab drives away.

“Such a gentleman, I take it you're at the airport now?” you tease him, a genuine questioning tilt laced in your words.

Oscar nods before remembering you can't see him, “Yeah, just got out of the car.”

Oscar rushes through the large door, holding it open for an older woman to walk through before he steps in past her. He glances around the room, trying to find airport security so he could get to his gate.

“You gonna make your flight?” you seem to be finding a lot of amusement in his frantic rushing.

Oscar huffs, pinning his phone between his cheek and shoulder to check his watch. He still had about twenty-five minutes to get to his plane.

“Twenty minutes,” he responds, walking quickly down the hall when he spots a sign directing him that way.

“Ooh! Ah, I have faith in you. If you're anywhere near as fast as you are on the track I'm sure you'll be fine.”

Oscars eyes trail over the hall, locking onto the security gates and causing him to walk a little quicker, “You watch the race today?”

You don't respond for a few minutes but when you do, your voice is a lot more calm than it had been a few moments before, “Mhm. You did good Os.”

Oscar lets out a sigh, shaking his head as a grin fights its way into his lips, “Thanks, I'm glad you think so.”

Oscar steps into the security line, grateful for the fact that there are only a few people in front of him. He ignores the weird glance the old lady in front of him sends his way as he rushes to a stop behind her, replying with a tight smile.

“Its not just me, Osc,” you reply, sensing his disdain for the days race through the phone, “Everyone thinks you did well.”

Oscar hums, stepping up a few steps as a couple of people pass through, leaving just the old lady in front of him. As he reaches the bag scanners, he pins his phone on his shoulder again to lift his bag up onto the conveyor belt, tossing his bag down beside it.

“One second,” Oscar responds, muting his phone to drop it into a bowl along with his airpods, sending them through along with his bags.

After he's put all his things on the belt, he steps away, walking through the metal detector when the agent signals for him to go.

It takes a few moments for the agents to check his bags but when they come through he pulls the suitcase off and sets it beside him, turning back to slide his backpack over his shoulders. He slides his AirPods into his hoodie pocket and picks up his phone, unmuting the call before walking away, his suitcase in tow.

“Im back,” Oscar clicks away from the call for a few seconds to check his flight details before putting the phone back to his ear.

“Did I just get sent through a security scanner?” you sound amused and Oscar can practically see your smirk just from the tone of your voice.

“Didnt want to hang up,” he grumbles, searching the signs above him for his gate, walking quickly when he spots it. A clock on the wall indicates that he's still got 15 minutes to get to his flight. He thinks about it for a few moments, quickly realizing that it was 15 minutes until scheduled takeoff and boarding would actually end in five minutes.

“Im honored-”

“Fuck!” Oscar cuts you off, too busy now sprinting down the airport corridor to think about that fact, “Shit! I'm gonna miss it!”

You don't respond for a few seconds but you eventually do, a loud laugh echoing from your throat as you take in his situation.

“Oh my god, are you late for boarding? Osc!” you laugh, the image of the driver sprinting down the hall engrained in your head.

He doesn't reply, the phone now down near his hip as he runs to his gate. The run feels like an hour but, in reality, was only actually a few minutes, the clocks on the walls ticking down as if mocking the Aussies poor planning.

He finds some kind of respite, though, as he finally gets to the gate, slowing down as he steps up to the gate agent. The lady seems surprised to see him run up but she doesn't turn away, instead glancing him up and down with a concerned look before responding.

“Hi! Do you have your ticket?” the woman is surprisingly kind about the question, especially considering she had been preparing to leave as he'd rocked up.

Oscar nods, still trying to catch his breath. He pulls his phone open to navigate to the ticket, facing the QR code forward for the agent to scan. She does so before nodding politely and leading him down the path toward the plane.

Oscar lets out a sight of relief and lifts the phone back up to his face, “I made it.”

Your laugh has calmed down but you snort at his almost war-torn sounding voice, his strife obvious due to his lack of breath, “Congrats, man.”

He gets lead onto the plane, thanking the woman who'd brought him and smiling at the flight attendants as he walks a few steps past them. He finds his seat, dropping his phone onto it to lift his phone and stow it away in the overhead bin. He grabs his phone and sits down, relaxing into the seat after setting his backpack on the ground.

“I’ll be in Japan in a few hours,” He says, running hand over his face, “See you there, yeah?”

You hum, “See you there, bear.”

Oscar ignores the nickname, pretending it didn't make him smile, “Im gonna hang up now, promise you won't be asleep when I land?”

You laugh, “I promise, Oscar. I'll even go get a red bull for some extra energ-”

“Yeah, nope. Goodbye.” Oscar interrupts before you can endorse the rival team.

“Bye koala bear,” you respond and the phone clicks softly as you hang up. Oscar sets the phone down to pull his airpods out of his pocket, connecting them in order to watch some movie for the flight.

The flights only a few hours long but it feels a lot longer than that to Oscar. It's a haze of random Netflix shows and bagged pretzels, the monotony of the flight boring Oscar out of his mind.

He's relieved when the plane touches down, his proximity to the front of the plane allowing him to stand up and grab his things fairly quickly. Its about 9 pm local time, the sky outside not shedding any light through the plane windows.

Oscar walks out into the airport, grateful to be off the cramped plane and finally move his legs again. He stops at one of the few shops still open to buy an overpriced bottle of water, pausing as he spots a bag of those haribo peach rings you like so much. He doesn't think much as he grabs the bag, throwing it onto the counter beside his bottle and offering the cashier a polite smile.

After paying, he grabs the bottle and the bag, grasping them in the same hand as he pulls his suitcase along with the other one.

He strolls through the airport, trying to rid himself of the fatigue from the race and the plane ride. The only thing keeping him from falling asleep was the thought of seeing you again.

Speaking of you, Oscar doesn't realize he has no idea where you were staying or where you were until he's stepped out of the airport doors, standing on the sidewalk with his suitcase sat next to him. He tries to recall if you'd told him anything about your Japan trip or even if he'd seen anything on your story but he comes up empty.

He clicks on your contact, pressing the phone to his ear as the call rings. He frowns as you decline, confused as to why you'd hang up.

He's just about to walk back inside to wait when a car horn honks, causing Oscar to look up in front of him.

His eyes widen as they lock onto an orange Mclaren 570s Coupe, the car shining beautifully under the street lights. As he stands and admires the car ahead of him, the window closest to him rolls down and he sees your head duck down to lock eyes with him.

“You getting in?”

He laughs incredulously, opening the passenger side door and carefully sliding his suitcase into the small storage space behind the seats.

He sets his backpack on the floor below him, flopping back into the sear and sliding his seatbelt on. He sets his water down and tosses the bag of peach rings into your lap, “Nice car.”

“Thanks,” you reply brightly, eyes widening as you observe the bag of candy before moving it into your hoodie pocket, “Thought id go all out with the rental for the few days I'm here.”

Oscar hums, glancing around the nice car, coincidentally a Papaya McLaren. He refused the urge to ask you if you'd been thinking of him when you'd picked the vehicle.

After you make sure his seatbelts on, you pull away from the airport terminal and navigate onto the main road, pressing play on your playlist to let music filter quietly through the speakers.

The car glides smoothly down the streets of Tokyo, bright lights reflecting off the sides of your face. Oscar looks your way, completely aware that your attention was locked on the road, giving him the free pass to admire you.

Your eyes dart around the road in front of you, neon lights reflected in your irises. Your teeth dig at your lower lip, chewing lightly as turn the car. You’ve got one hand on the wheel, the other one moving around between the center console and the fraying edge of your shorts. You're wearing a quadrant hoodie and Oscar can't tell if its his or if you both just owned the same hoodie. The fit didn't help, he knew you bought your hoodies oversized anyway.

You glance over as you come to a stop at a red light, grinning when you see his eyes on you.

“What?” You ask, laughing slightly as you lean back from the wheel, splitting your attention between the road and Oscars face.

Oscar shakes his head with a small smile, his own attention turning out the window as you drive through the green light.

“Have you eaten?”

Oscar shakes his head, “Nah.”

You nod, taking the next turn to pull into a parking lot, stopping the car after you find a spot. You step out and Oscar takes this as his cue to get out as well, shutting the car door gently behind him.

When Oscar gets around the car, he finds you leaning against the edge, your feet crossed as you wait for him. He steps to your side and you push off the car, the familiar beep of it locking ringing out as you walk away.

As you both walk toward the restaurant, you step into Oscar's side and he’s quick to swing an arm over your shoulder. You wrap an arm around his torso, reaching the other up to tangle your fingers with his.

He's only slightly disappointed when you have to drop his hand in order to open the door. But you keep your hand against his ribs and he keeps his arm around your shoulders, not ready to let you go yet.

The second his feet pass the threshold of the building, he's hit with some of the most delicious scents he'd smelled in his life. This late at night there isn't much action apart from a few stragglers who Oscar assumes had just gotten off work and needed a bite to eat.

An older man swings around the corner from the kitchen, faint food stains gracing his otherwise white apron. He has a huge grin on his face and it only increases when he sees you. He pushes his glasses up on his nose, wiping off the steam that had accumulated on the lenses.

“Ah! You're back again!” The man calls out to the pair of you. Although his words do make Oscar assume the man was mostly talking to you, “And you brought your boyfriend!”

You don't correct the man and after seeing the grin on your face, Oscar doesn't either.

“Yeah, he just got in from Shanghai. Haven't had dinner yet.”

“Go, go,” the man smiles, pointing toward the dining room, “Sit where you want, ill get to you in a second.”

The man waves you both toward the tables and you step out of Oscar’s grasp. He doesn't have to be disappointed for long as you wrap your hand in his to lead him through the restaurant, stopping at a booth before sliding in. Oscar slides in the seat opposite of you, his legs knocking against yours under the table.

Quickly, the man, who Oscar now assumes is the owner, comes over to the table, setting down two glasses of water and a pair of menus in front of the both of you.

“You know what you want?” The man grins as he gestures toward you, seemingly familiar to you. Oscar takes a sip of his water, letting the coop liquid run down his throat.

You nod happily, “Yeah, I think so.”

The man pulls out a small notebook to write down whatever you say and you continue by saying a few different dishes, the only one Oscar having had before being sushi. He doesn't say anything, knowing that you knew more about this place and the menu than he did.

After you're done ordering, the man walks away and strolls into the kitchen, handing the order to the woman behind the counter before placing a small kiss on her cheek.

Oscar looks back to you, a small smile on his face after seeing the couple who seemed to be running the restaurant themselves, “You’ve been here before, then?”

You nod, leaning over to take a sip from your glass, “Yeah, came here yesterday for lunch.”

Oscar hums, glancing out of the booth to look around the room. Paintings and neon signs decorate the walls and what seems to be photographs taken in the restaurant all line the wall by the entrance. Oscar can vaguely see that the photos of are different people posing, all with happy looks on their faces. He huffs a breathy laugh when he sees one of you with your friends.

The time spent waiting for your food is filled with casual conversation, Oscar asking a lot of questions about how your Tokyo trip had been so far.

You don't ask about the race. There's some kind of unspoken understanding that Oscar had run to Japan to get away from racing for once. Here, with you, Oscar wasn't Mclaren racing driver, Oscar Piastri, he was just Oscar. Or “Bear”, as you called him. A nickname that you seemed unable to let go of. Oscar pretended to be annoyed every time you said it but he couldn't deny the smile that formed every time he heard the Australia-themed moniker.

“Bear?” There it is. Oscar looks up with a raised eyebrow, deducing that you'd asked a question he hadn't answered.

“I asked if you're staying with me tonight.”

Oscar snorts before smirking, shaking his head as he locks eyes with you, “Yeah, wouldn't dream of being anywhere else.”

You blush, looking down toward the table, past meals having left vague food stains on the wood.

Before you can respond, the man returns, plates and bowls balancing in his hands. You look up politely, smiling as the man starts to place the food on the table, “Thank you so much.”

The man grins as he places down the last plate, “Of course. Enjoy.”

He walks away and you turn toward Oscar who stares vaguely at the food in front of him, “Dig in.”

You make a move for your chopsticks, looking over the food before taking a bite of whatever is immediately in front of you. Oscar glances around, not sure where to start.

Noticing his hesitancy, you pick up a piece of what you'd been eating and bring it up toward his lips, pulling back after Oscar bites into it.

“What is this?” Oscar asks as he chews, covering his mouth as he speaks. Whatever it is, it's pretty good, having a light and slightly sweet flavour. Its also a bit more rubbery than chicken, but its pretty good nonetheless.

You swallow your own bite, having scooped up some rice along with it, “Unagi. Grilled eel.”

The only indication of Oscar's surprise is his widened eyes but after a few seconds, he reaches over to take another bite, humming as he chews on the eel. You smile, moving on to grab some kind of skewer.

You slowly move through the foods, explaining each one to Oscar as he tries them.

They're all good but Oscar's favourite is the yakitori, the skewers of grilled chicken. By the time you've finished the food on the table, Oscar is about ready to pass out.

So you pay as soon as you can, Oscar grumbling about his inability to pay for the meal, lacking the proper currency. He does Venmo you when you put your phone down, though.

The owner makes playful conversation with you, thanking you for coming around and telling you you're welcome back anytime. Oscar just stands with his head on top of yours, trying not to fall asleep.

You're about to leave when the man calls you back and you turn around to see him holding a camera in his hands, “For the wall? Need to remember the happy couple.”

You laugh, glancing around to see the many many photos of various friend groups on the wall behind you, turning back around with a soft look as you nod. You lean into Oscar who wraps an arm around you, tilting his head toward you. You tangle your hand with the one on your shoulder, holding up a peace sign with your other one.

The familiar click of a camera sounds and the man smiles warmly, waving you both out the door, “Have a great time! Thank you for coming!”

You wave goodbye, stepping out of the restaurant and pulling out your keys to unlock the car. Oscar untangles from you to walk to the passenger's side and step in. You drop in as well, setting your phone down in the centre console. Oscar is staring out the window when he feels something drop in his lap and he glances down to see the bag of peach rings he'd bought you.

“Can you open that?” You ask, starting the car and putting it in reverse. You glance over your shoulder as you pull backward, one arm behind Oscars seat and the other on the wheel.

Oscar, at risk of getting caught staring, turns his attention to the candy, ripping the edge and grabbing a few pieces to throw in his mouth.

Once you've got onto the main road, you hold out a hand and Oscar drops a couple pieces which you proceed to eat.

The drive is quiet, the both of you feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. You eventually pull up to the hotel, stopping the car and stepping out. Not before grabbing more candy from Oscar, though.

Oscar leans over to grab his suitcase, stepping out of the car and sliding his backpack on. He grabs his water bottle from the airport, stuffing it into the bottle compartment on the side of the bag. He looks up and starts walking, stepping by your side as you enter the hotel. You stroll through the lobby, leading both of you to the elevator.

As the elevator starts moving up, you both lean against the wall, letting the quiet music be the only sound beside a couple yawns.

The elevator dings as it passes each floor. Oscar watches as you dig your key card out of your pocket, running your fingers along the edge absently.

The doors slide open, leading you to walk out, Oscar in tow. You drift down the hall, humming along to whatever song was playing in your head. Oscar vaguely recognizes it as Taylor Swift.

When you reach your room, you scan your card and push the door open, holding it to let Oscar pass through.

He does, pushing his suitcase next to the far side of the bed. He can hear you setting your things down, the familiar clink of keys on glass ringing out in the otherwise quiet room.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” he says lowly, sliding past you and into the attached bathroom. He can hear you hum in affirmation just before he shuts the door.

When he emerges, you're sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling off your shoes before tossing them on the floor. You’ve taken off your hoodie (or Oscars) and its not lain over the chair across the room.

You glance up, smiling as you see the Aussie walk out, “Hi.”

Oscar huffs amusedly, sliding off his own shoes as he walks toward you, “Hi.”

You hum, looking up as he walks closer to you before leaning slightly to angle his face toward yours. You both pause for a few moments, waiting to see who'd break the stand-off first.

It ends up being you, as you pull his face down towards yours, your kiss almost searing. The kiss feels like it lasts a lifetime and Oscar almost wishes it could. He does pull away, though, just to move you away from the edge of the bed, smiling when he hears your laugh ring out after he's practically tossed you onto the mattress.

He moves up as well and before he can even get his bearings, you're pulling him back down again, hands in his hair and your lips on his.

The next morning, Oscars awoken by the sound of your quiet laugh. He rolls over with a tired groan, wrapping his other arm around your torso.

“What are you laughing at?” he grumbles, tiredness clear in his voice.

You turn to face him, looking impossibly beautiful for having just woken up. You hold your phone toward him and Oscar glances down at the screen before looking back up at your face with a questioning glance.

“Lando sent me a video this morning,” you start, closing your phone and tossing it aside to grasp his tired face between your hands, “Its quite funny.”

“What was it?” Oscar mumbles, leaning to press a small kiss on your forehead.

You lean back, looking him in the eyes and seemingly trying to hide your smirk, “It's a video of his teammate sprinting through the Shanghai airport.”

Oscar groans, trying to ignore your warm laugh, “Fuck.”

He's not really mad, not when the video was the source of your happiness right now.

There were a lot worse sights to wake up to than your happy face beside him.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfiction

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 9 days ago

Text

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:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz

@impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah @lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed

@justwhisperingfantasies @lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99

@chriszgirl92

@toxicfataldestiny @im-bili @anniebannanie0315 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @schinug

@shara-ne @gaida-511 @xxmusic13luverxx @bakugotypecrashout @n-o-p-e-never

@thoughtfullyfurryangel @youroldfashioned

@marvelgeeka @myceliumsunshine @hobby27

@funkenniffler

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itoshiexx · 1 year ago

Text

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.

1K notes · View notes

honeyhae-svt · 2 months ago

Text

🎮04 | Your Lips, My Lips, Apocalypse 🎭

Part-Time Lover | JxW - masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: smut, explicit language, petty arguments, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor, enemies-to-lovers dynamic, mature themes, light suggestive content, jealousy/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, mild profanity, oblivious reader (she needs proof over everything and anything), competitive tension, angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy. proceed with caution if any of these are sensitive topics for you! angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy. reader is getting bullied by her co-workers ! smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex (fictional context, not ideal IRL), rough sex (jeonghan pounding into you real hard), lots of kissing, degradation (light. reader is a slut. period.), overstimulation, desperate kisses, tension-filled build-up, power dynamics (m dom), creampie (bashful of that word), oh and lots of kissing. (i honestly dk what to even add in here - lol i added somthing unrelated to smut SORRY its already edited tho) wc: 12,180 ♪ playlist ♪ : boyfriend (ariana grande with social house), never be the same (camilla cabello), teeth (5 seconds of summer), treat you better (shawn mendes). "you aint my boyfriend, and i aint your girlfriend, but you dont want me to see nobody else"-reader "i lose my mind when it comes to you"-wonwoo "i cant have what i want but neither can you"-jeonghan

You woke up on a bed, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the thick curtains. The surroundings were unfamiliar yet strangely recognizable. The high-ceilinged room, the marble tiles glistening faintly in the sun, and the faint scent of expensive cologne—there was no doubt. You were in Jeonghan's penthouse.

A sharp pang of confusion hit you as you sat up, brushing the stray strands of hair from your face. How the hell did you end up here? Memories from the night before crept in slowly, like fragments of a dream you weren't sure you'd actually had.

You'd barely had a sip of alcohol. In fact, you weren't drunk at all—just exhausted. The events of the party played back in pieces: you slumped over the kitchen counter, the cool granite pressing against your cheek as the distant thrum of music vibrated through the room. You remembered Seungcheol coming over to check on you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he muttered something about letting you rest. The memory blurred after that.

What you did remember was Wonwoo—quiet but present, seated across the room with a Nintendo Switch in his hands. He wasn't saying much, but you could feel his gaze flicker over to you every now and then, as if silently questioning why you'd passed out in such an uncomfortable spot. A small part of you wished he'd just told you to go home, but Seungcheol had intervened before anyone could. And that was when Jeonghan stepped in.

You could imagine his smooth, persuasive voice now: "I'll take her home. She's my responsibility." It was the kind of thing he'd say to justify anything, but you doubted it was really about responsibility. He didn't even know where you lived, and yet here you were, in his space, feeling even more out of place than you had at the party.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before standing up. The soft fabric of the oversized shirt you wore—clearly not your own—brushed against your legs as you padded across the room. It was early, but you still had time to get home, clean up, and make it to work. The thought of slipping out quietly tempted you, but you hesitated. It would feel rude not to at least thank him.

Steeling yourself, you opened the door and stepped out into the expansive hallway. Every detail of the penthouse screamed Jeonghan—elegant yet understated, expensive yet effortlessly casual. You followed the faint sound of movement, eventually stopping outside a door. Knocking lightly, you heard his voice from within.

"Come in."

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside to find Jeonghan seated at his usual spot—where you often worked on his makeup during long workdays. He wasn't looking at you, his gaze fixed on his phone as he leaned back in the chair with an air of ease that irritated you more than it should have.

"Jeonghan... thanks for last night," you started, your tone stiff. "You didn't have to. You could've just taken me home."

He glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I would have, but I don't know where you live."

Your brow furrowed at the simple reply. "You could've woken me up and asked."

"And disturb your beauty sleep? That's cruel, even for me," he replied smoothly, the teasing lilt in his voice grating on your nerves.

"Seriously," you pressed, crossing your arms over your chest, "I didn't ask for you to do any of that. But... thanks. I appreciate it."

For a moment, he didn't respond, his gaze flickering over you with an unreadable expression. Then, as if dismissing the sincerity of your words entirely, he spoke again. "What are you standing there for? Do my makeup."

Your jaw dropped slightly at the abrupt shift. "Excuse me?"

"You're here. Might as well make yourself useful." He gestured lazily toward the vanity table. "Or do you need me to remind you how to do your job?"

"I don't have my tools with me," you shot back, irritation bubbling to the surface.

Jeonghan's lips curved into a sly smile. "I have my own."

"You've been making me lug that heavy-ass kit around every day when you already had your own stuff?!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration.

He chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. "You never asked. It's not my fault you're utterly stupid."

You glared at him, muttering under your breath, "Asshole."

"Careful," he warned lightly, his eyes glinting with amusement as you approached him. "You're in my house."

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the nearest foundation and set to work. He tilted his face up toward you, a smug expression lingering on his features as you patted the product onto his skin. You couldn't resist pressing a little harder than necessary, earning a quiet grunt of annoyance from him.

"Is this your way of taking revenge?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You wish," you muttered, focusing on blending the foundation smoothly across his skin. Despite your irritation, your fingers moved with practiced ease, the routine familiar and oddly grounding.

But as you worked, you couldn't ignore the closeness—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his skin. It was distracting, and you hated that it affected you at all.

He noticed, of course. He always did. "You're quiet today," he remarked, his voice softer now, almost curious. "Something on your mind?"

"Nothing," you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze. "Just tired."

"Hmm," he murmured, but his tone suggested he didn't believe you. "You should take better care of yourself. Passing out at parties isn't a good look."

"And ending up at your boss's house is?" you shot back, finally meeting his eyes.

He smiled—a slow, infuriating smile that made your stomach twist in ways you didn't want to acknowledge. "Touché."

The whole day at work dragged on like a slow, suffocating punishment. You had done absolutely nothing but sit in the studio, pretending to relax while doing the exact opposite. Jeonghan, in his infinite wisdom, had told you to "take a break" for the day. The catch? He didn't let you rest at home, where you might've actually managed to unwind. Instead, he insisted you stay here at work, throwing out some half-assed excuse about needing you nearby in case something came up.

If he really cared about your well-being, you thought bitterly, why didn't he just let you leave? Not that you were complaining—well, not out loud. But sitting back and watching models pose endlessly under bright studio lights was far from relaxing. You were bored to death, practically counting down the minutes as you perched on a spare chair in the corner of the room. Jeonghan, true to form, was nowhere to be seen—off handling something important, apparently.

It was disorienting, not being at his beck and call for once. Usually, he had you running across the city, juggling tasks that no other assistant would tolerate without raising hell. This strange lull felt wrong, as though he were deliberately giving you time to stew in your thoughts. And if Jeonghan had one talent, it was knowing exactly how to push your buttons.

Your coworkers, of course, had their own interpretations of the situation. You could feel their glances from across the studio, hear the faint whispers that stopped the moment you walked by.

"She's getting special treatment from Jeonghan, huh?" one of them muttered, not bothering to keep her voice low enough.

"Must be nice to sleep your way into perks," someone else added, followed by a chuckle that made your stomach twist.

You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms, but you didn't say a word. Let them talk. It wasn't worth your energy to correct them. They didn't know what they were saying—didn't know the difference between what they assumed and what had actually happened.

Yes, you'd slept at Jeonghan's house. But that didn't mean what they thought it did. It wasn't like anything had happened. And as for "extra treatment"? If they thought this endless game of mental gymnastics Jeonghan put you through was some kind of reward, you'd happily trade places with them. Let them walk a mile in your shoes. Let them see how long they lasted before they begged for mercy.

Still, their words lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind. You hated how easily they got under your skin, how much you cared about what people thought—even when you knew better. But what frustrated you even more was the fact that Jeonghan knew this would happen. He had to. And yet, here you were, sitting through this ridiculous excuse for "rest," waiting for him to pull another trick out of his sleeve.

By the time the lunch break rolled around, you were practically seething in your chair. You didn't even realize Jeonghan had walked into the studio until he was standing right in front of you, arms crossed and a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Enjoying your break?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You glared up at him, too tired and too annoyed to play along. "If this is your idea of rest, you seriously need to reevaluate your understanding of the word."

Jeonghan chuckled, unbothered as always. "You're sitting down, aren't you? Looks like rest to me."

"Yeah, sitting down and listening to people talk shit about me. Real relaxing," you shot back, crossing your arms.

His smirk faltered for just a second, replaced by something more thoughtful. "What are they saying?"

"Nothing I haven't heard before," you muttered, looking away. "Doesn't matter."

Jeonghan crouched slightly so he was at eye level with you, his sharp gaze boring into yours. "If it doesn't matter, why do you look like you're about to rip someone's head off?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. He always did this—pulled the words out of you before you even realized they were there.

Finally, you sighed. "Why didn't you just let me go home? I could've actually rested instead of sitting here like some kind of zoo exhibit."

Jeonghan tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Because if you went home, you'd overthink everything until you gave yourself a headache."

You blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of his answer. "What?"

He straightened up, his usual smirk returning as if he hadn't just said something that completely threw you off balance. "You heard me. Now, come on. We're grabbing lunch."

"What?" you repeated, more sharply this time. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" He turned on his heel, already heading toward the door. "Hurry up. I don't have all day."

You stared after him, half tempted to stay put out of sheer spite. But then, against your better judgment, you got up and followed.

Because as much as you hated to admit it, he was right.

As you trailed behind Jeonghan, the murmurs from your co-workers grew louder, their snide remarks almost taunting.

"See? Told you she has a special something." "She's shameless. I bet she got the job because she slept her way through connections."

The venom in their voices stung, but you swallowed your anger. It wasn't worth it—not now. Jeonghan was already a few paces ahead, his long strides creating an effortless distance, his posture calm as ever. You envied how he seemed untouched by the chaos he often left in his wake.

For a moment, you hesitated. Turning around to confront them burned like an itch you couldn't quite scratch. But as your fists clenched at your sides, someone else beat you to it.

"Back to work." The sharp voice of the head photographer cut through the chatter like a whip. All eyes snapped to her. "You guys are so shameless. I bet you two have never even slept with anyone, let alone earned your positions fairly."

The room went silent, save for the muffled clicks of a nearby camera shutter. You turned your head slightly, catching the woman's commanding glare as she stood tall, exuding the kind of confidence you wished you could summon in moments like these.

You'd always known her as strict and sharp, but fair—qualities that had earned her respect among the staff. She didn't spare the offenders another glance, her focus already back on the set. Her words, though brief, felt like a lifeline, pulling you from drowning in humiliation.

Relief spread through your chest, and before you turned to follow Jeonghan, you gave her a small, grateful smile. She didn't acknowledge it, but something about the tension in her shoulders seemed to relax.

Jeonghan was already a good distance ahead, his pace unrelenting. You had to half-jog to catch up. When you finally reached him, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable.

"You look like you ran a marathon," he remarked, his tone as light as always. "Are you that desperate to keep up with me?"

You huffed, falling into step beside him. "Maybe if you walked like a normal human being, I wouldn't have to."

He smirked, a faint glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. "Or maybe I just enjoy watching you struggle."

You rolled your eyes but didn't bother replying. Somehow, bantering with him felt like the only way to ground yourself after what just happened. As you exited the studio, the cool air hit your face, and for the first time that day, you felt like you could breathe again.

"Where are we even going?" you asked, breaking the silence as Jeonghan led you toward the building's private parking area.

"You'll see," he said cryptically, his smirk widening.

As you followed Jeonghan to the parking lot, your curiosity piqued. His cryptic response only made you more suspicious. You weren't exactly in the mood for more mystery, but you couldn't deny that something about his confident demeanor made you feel oddly intrigued.

He stopped at his sleek black car, unlocking it with a quick press of a button. The engine purred to life as he slid into the driver's seat. You hesitated for a moment, but then slid into the passenger side, watching him in silence as he adjusted the mirrors and started driving.

"So," you began, breaking the quiet tension. "Where exactly are we going?"

Jeonghan shot you a quick glance, that same smug look on his face. "It's a surprise."

You sighed, sinking back into the plush seat. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Maybe," he said, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "But you'll find out soon enough."

The drive was smooth and relatively short, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were heading somewhere neither of you had been before. The city slowly gave way to more secluded, quieter streets—definitely not a part of town you usually visited.

The car finally came to a stop in front of an upscale, modern building with glass windows reflecting the dimming sky. It had an air of exclusivity about it, something that felt... out of place.

You glanced at Jeonghan, your brow furrowing. "What is this place?"

"Trust me," he said as he turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. "You'll want to come inside."

The door clicked open, and Jeonghan got out without waiting for your response. You followed reluctantly, your footsteps echoing as you walked toward the entrance.

As you stepped inside, you were greeted by a warm, welcoming ambiance. It looked like a boutique hotel mixed with an art gallery—sleek furniture, artwork on the walls, and dim lights that set a mysterious yet cozy mood.

Jeonghan led you through the lobby and past a few velvet-curtained rooms. He didn't look back at you, and you followed in silence, your curiosity growing with each step.

Finally, he stopped in front of one of the rooms. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a luxurious suite, complete with a king-sized bed, a large soaking tub, and panoramic windows overlooking the city skyline.

"What is this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head was spinning with questions, but something told you Jeonghan wasn't here to answer them just yet.

"Like I said," he started, turning to face you with that same enigmatic smirk, "a surprise."

Your heart rate picked up as you looked around the room. The last thing you wanted was more uncertainty, more drama, but you couldn't deny the pull. Jeonghan, for all his teasing and annoying habits, had a way of making everything feel... intense. You had no idea what was coming, but that only seemed to heighten the tension.

He stepped closer to you, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him. "Are you going to ask more questions?" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You hesitated, your mind racing. But with no clear way out and Jeonghan standing so close, his presence overwhelming, you took a deep breath and made your decision.

You hesitated, your mind racing. The atmosphere between the two of you had shifted, and there was no clear way out. Jeonghan stood close, his presence looming, his eyes unwavering as they searched yours for an answer. You could feel the heat radiating between you, almost like an unspoken tension that had been building up since last night.

With no way to turn back now, you took a deep breath and made your decision.

"I'll take my chances," you said, your voice soft but steady, betraying none of the nerves twisting inside you.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Jeonghan's face as he reached for your hand, fingers warm and confident against yours. Without a word, he led you further into the room, the door clicking shut behind you with a quiet finality.

The space seemed suddenly smaller, more intimate, as you felt his hand guide you toward the bed. Your heartbeat quickened, a mix of excitement and hesitation swirling in your chest. Jeonghan's eyes were fixed on you, his gaze heavy with unspoken promises.

Before you could think twice, you found yourself sitting on the bed, your hands resting on your lap. But Jeonghan didn't give you much time to process. He was already standing in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, his presence intoxicating.

Without a word, you slid your hands to his chest, pulling him toward you. His lips met yours in an instant—urgent, hungry, like something had finally snapped between the two of you. Your breath caught as you melted into the kiss, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of you.

In a blur of movement, Jeonghan's hands were on your hips, pulling you onto his lap with a smooth, practiced motion. You straddled him, the heat between you both intensifying as your bodies aligned in a way that felt both familiar and completely new.

His hands roamed over your waist, fingertips grazing the skin beneath your shirt as his lips trailed down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You gasped softly, unable to suppress the wave of desire that rushed through you.

The kiss deepened as you instinctively ground your hips against him, the friction between you both making your pulse race even faster. Jeonghan's grip tightened on your hips, pulling you closer, his body language giving away everything he'd been holding back.

It was getting hot, the more you pulled yourself closer to him, the more it felt like he was trying to lean away like he's teasing you for some reason. Until his head hit the soft mattress under him, you were on top of him and he found it so hot.

That was the plan after all. He was making you lean closer until he lays down completely on the bed.

Your cheeks was so red as you tongue-kissed him, eyes fluttered shut with your pretty lips soft all over his. Jeonghan's hand went to the back of your head, forcing the kiss to go deeper.

You were wearing tight jeans at the moment that you can practically feel his cock gracing your clothed cunt. Meanwhile, Jeonghan's hands wandered under your cute blue puffed sleaves flutter top, his hands moved with precision as if he's trying to memorize your curves.

And that's when his hands found your hips, pulling you flush against his hard clothed cock. You whimpered when you felt his cock rubbing against your clit. Pulling away, you took a breath, but it wasn't long until Jeonghan's hand grabbed your chin as he sat up again, kissing you deep in the same hungry way again.

For a moment, Jeonghan pulled away, his eyes locked with yours. Your lips were swollen and he's proud to think how messed up you look right now with your cheeks red and body hot as if you have a fever or something.

You feel so embarrassed when you find yourself soaking wet.

"Undress for me," he broke the silence, and you stared at him, cheeks heating up more if that was possible.

You were stuttering, not what knowing what to do or say—not when he's looking at you with a grin that makes him look oh-so-handsome.

Jeonghan leaned back, hands resting on the bed watching what you would do. He wasn't doing anything at all, but why does it feel like the more he pulls away, the more you wanted to act all stupid and do as he says.

And just like that, you found yourself talking your clothes off, skin exposed right in front of him. His eyes roamed over your bare body, as if he's working on all his self control to not touch you just yet. To see how far you can get being bossed around by him.

You unclipped your bra, unbuttoned your pants and removed them all the way down. Jeonghan bit his lips, but he didn't do anything just yet. He was enjoying having you follow his order.

He leaned in close, his lips finding your jawline down to your neck, now nipping at the sensitive flesh there, making you flinch a little.

"A- are you giving me hickeys..?" You asked, but he didn't answer just yet. He guided your hands to the waistband of his pants, and you pulled it down, revealing Jeonghan's hard length. The bulge itself was enough to make you speechless. Doesn't matter, you were already speechless as it is.

Jeonghan unbuttoned his long-sleeved polo off, with him pulling you by the chin to look at him as he devours your lips yet again. His hands travelled back to your hips, pulling you to grind your soaked cunt to his hard cock. All you can do was moan in between kisses with him swallowing every sound coming from those pretty mouth of yours.

He tightened the grip on your hips before he pulled away for you to catch your breath.

You were panting, your pussy burning with the aching feeling of wanting his cock deep inside you. You feel so slutty that you didn't even notice Jeonghan's hand make it's way to your inner thighs.

"You're so fucking wet. You're incredibly turned on just with a few kisses?" Jeonghan mused, looking at your glistening cunt. "I'm putting a finger in."

Jeonghan rubbed your clit, making you whimper under his touch, skin shivering as you pulled your hips against his hand. He couldn't help but smirk how worked up you were right now. He's got a lot to say, but no words came out of his mouth. He was too focused at the sight before him.

When he inserted two fingers in, it slipped inside you so easily. "What the fuck? It's like I don't need to prep you."

He continued pulling his fingers in and out of you, earning a chorus of loud moans, your head falling on his shoulders when he reached that one good spot that almost made you pass out. His thumb was running circles on your clit while his fingers worked in you like he's done it a hundred of times before.

You were breathless, biting your lips to stop yourself from moaning his name. "J- Jeonghan...!! Fuck... S- so good." You said as you cum all over his hand, followed by a sweet squirt.

But that didn't stop Jeonghan, his fingers continued to work on you, trying to overstimulate you. And just like that, you cum again. He pulled his fingers out licking his fingers as his eyes met yours in a darkened gaze.

Panting, your cheeks flushed, Jeonghan gripped your hips, pulling you to his cock.

He was hard you can feel his precum on the tip of his cock. You grabbed it, stroking your hand over his cock, and Jeonghan grunted, head falling back.

"You're going to be the death of me," he managed to say.

You got on the floor, kneeling in between his thighs as you opened your mouth for his cock, licking the tip with your hand stroking the rest before bobbing your head all over him.

Jeonghan groaned, his hand grabbing your hair making you blow him deeper. "f- fuck, you're such a good fucking slut."

You whimpered, having his cock reaching your throat. He was too fucking long for your pretty mouth, you were gagging. He didn't let go until he reached his highs, cumming all over your mouth. he pulled your face away to see if you were fine, but the sight caught him off-guard.

You were panting prettily, mouth opened with his cum evident in between your lips, dripping like honey. But you didn't let it drip anywhere, you swallowed his hot load, wiping your lips.

Fuck. And he's fucking hard again.

Jeonghan doesn't usually have a high sex drive, but now that told a whole different story. He pulled you off the floor, his fingers brushing your cheeks.

You straddled on him. He kissed your cheeks before whispering, "Safe word?"

"Fox." You replied. But before he can shift you under him, you continued—"I want to ride your cock."

Jeonghan smirked, his thumb caressing your lips. "You're full of surprises, sly fox." You were too horny to reply. Screw it, he was gorgeous, and that made you want to dominate him. "Be my guest, sweetheart."

You guided your pussy to the tip of his already pre-cum cock. But just before you prepared yourself to make him fit—thinking of how it would probably hurt a little because of how big he was, Jeonghan held your hips before slamming it down his cock, your cunt swallowing him. The stretch was real and good you almost passed out, but you gathered yourself—you can't possibly back out now that you volunteered to do all the work. You knew Jeonghan would just tease you after this.

"Shit. Pussy's fuckin' made for me," he grunted, his chest falling in and out. You grinded yourself, his hot balls making you bounce on him.

"Such a pretty slut." He watched your body bounce, tits bouncing so prettily as your moans matched the squelch of your pussy was making.

You were bouncing on his cock fast, his cock buried deep in your pussy. It reached your g-spot and it made you stop there, pulling yourself deeper, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Jeonghan grunted, whimpering as he held your hips in place, lifting you up before slamming your cunt hard in him again, it made you moan loudly.

"I- I'm cumming, hannie!" You panted. Jeonghan felt your walls gripping his cock, he furrowed his brows before moving your hips up and down to reach his highs. And just like that, you cummed all over his cock, it didn't take him long before his hot load came. He took his cock out of you, cumming all over your stomach.

"Fuck, you feel so good," He says, carrying you under him, locking you in between his arms. "You're so fucking pretty I want my cock inside you forever."

You were processing things blinking a few times to him before his hardened cock—was inside you again, making you breath out a moan.

"You rode me so well." He panted out, fucking your pretty little pussy recklessly but deliberately. "But I want to fuck you mercilessly."

He slammed his cock in and out of you so hard you squirted for the second time. "A- anghh !!" You moaned, your eyes rolling. "F- fuck me hard, sir!" You moaned out.

Jeonghan was panting heavily, the sudden nickname caught him off guard. "Insatiable slut." He slammed his cock so hard you were on the verge of cumming. He continued rutting inside you, with a one hard thrust, he cummed. His hot semen coating your pretty hot walls. You cummed after.

But the man didn't stop there. He was down bad for you he didn't hold himself back. He rose your legs up, making it rest on his shoulders before entering your cunt again, balls slamming your fucked up pussy as you swallowed him well.

"Fuck.... So fucking good." He muttered, pounding on your cunt like there was no tomorrow. "S- Sir! I'm cumming!" You moaned, his hands holding your thighs down so you won't have to move much. "Cum all over my cock, sweetheart." He replied, raising one of your legs so he can get a better angle of fucking in you.

He slammed his cock hard in you, his hips pounding in and out of you, your pussy squelches over his cock.

Jeonghan made one last thrust, putting pressure between your hips until your walls tightened. He took his cock out cumming all over your stomach as you finally cummed.

You were breathing heavily, body trembling as Jeonghan's body fall beside you.

Weren't the two of you supposed to have lunch? Then why had you ended up on a bed, bare skin against sheets, your body aching after Jeonghan had worked you to exhaustion. It wasn't just the number of rounds—although those alone had left you trembling—it was the fact that you hadn't stopped him. No, you hadn't even wanted to. But why?

Why had things spiraled this way when just yesterday, it had been Wonwoo who'd left his marks on you? And now here you were, letting Jeonghan—your boss, of all people—drag you into a mess you weren't sure you could untangle.

You sat up gingerly, the soreness of your cunt pulling at your every movement, watching as Jeonghan knelt beside the bed. He was quiet as he ran a freshly dampened towel over your thighs, his touch softer than you expected.

"You don't have to clean me up. I can do it myself," you muttered, your cheeks burning.

Jeonghan smirked, though he didn't stop wiping at your skin. "Sure you can. But I'm the one who fucked you earlier, and I'm not about to leave you like this. Especially since you'll just go back smelling like me and let those vultures at work run wild with it."

You opened your mouth to argue but paused. He was right—he was infuriatingly always right—and lately, he'd been treading carefully as though protecting you from something. But why? What was he playing at?

Chuckling lightly, you ran your fingers through his soft, slightly tousled hair. "I don't get it. In the middle of the day, you pull me into some random, bougie place I've never even heard of, and then—this? What's up, Jeonghan?"

He tilted his head thoughtfully before replying, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second. "Honestly... I don't know either."

The words hung between you as he trailed the towel along your collarbone, his movements slow and deliberate. He finally met your eyes, his breath hot against your face, and you hated how effortlessly captivating he was.

Unable to resist, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle at first, testing, but when Jeonghan didn't pull back, it deepened into something that stole your breath and left your lips swollen all over again.

When he pulled away, his voice was low, teasing. "Let's prove your co-workers just how wrong they are." He put your clothes over your body again, handing the rest of your clothes.

You blinked, his words snapping you out of the daze as you covered yourself up. "Prove them wrong? How?"

Jeonghan smirked as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "They said you slept with me to get this job. Let's show them that if we did sleep together, it's only now—and it's because I wanted to ruin you in a completely different way."

By the time you arrived back at work, two hours had passed, and every pair of eyes in the office practically burned into you. You could hear the whispers again, loud enough that they were obviously meant for you.

"See? I told you." "She's shameless. Bet she skipped the interview process entirely and went straight to Jeonghan's bed." "I'd kill to know what tricks she used to get where she is."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you followed Jeonghan into the building. He walked ahead of you like he always did, tall and unbothered, but you didn't miss the way his sharp gaze flicked briefly toward the gossipers. He could stop this. He probably wanted to. But you weren't going to let him. This was yours to handle.

You stopped in your tracks, giving Jeonghan's sleeve a subtle tug. He paused, glancing back at you. "I've got this," you murmured, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

Turning toward the group, you walked over with a calm, measured confidence that instantly silenced them. You raised an eyebrow, your tone dripping with mock curiosity. "Oh, please. Don't stop on my account. You were saying?"

One of the women—bold enough to meet your eyes—crossed her arms. "We were just... wondering how someone like you manages to stick around here. Must be nice to have such... connections."

You smiled sweetly, though your eyes glinted dangerously. "Connections, huh? Interesting take. But you're right—it's been an uphill battle. Not everyone can stay in the same position for years while letting the same tired poses get approved in photoshoots. What's that phrase? Oh, right—bare minimum energy."

The color drained from her face, but you didn't stop there.

"By the way," you added, your tone light but cutting, "if you have so much free time to monitor my life, maybe I should suggest Jeonghan cut your workload. He loves people who are efficient, after all."

The woman opened her mouth to retort, but you waved her off with a laugh. "Relax. I'm joking. Maybe."

Jeonghan reappeared behind you then, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. "Is there a problem here?"

You glanced over your shoulder, flashing him a knowing smile. "Not at all. Just clearing up some... misunderstandings. Right, ladies?"

The group muttered something incoherent before scrambling back to their desks.

As you turned to walk away, Jeonghan leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. "Remind me to let you handle all my PR scandals. You're ruthless."

You smirked, shooting him a playful glare. "I told you I've got this."

And just like that, you walked back to your desk, head high, leaving the entire office wondering just how they'd underestimated you for so long.

The rest of the day passed in a strange haze of triumph and simmering tension. The office was quieter now, the usual hum of whispers replaced by nervous glances and hurried footsteps whenever you walked by. You didn't need their approval—hell, you didn't even want it—but silencing the chatter, even momentarily, gave you a sense of satisfaction.

Jeonghan, of course, was Jeonghan. He had spent the remainder of the afternoon flitting between meetings and casually dropping by your workspace, leaning against your desk like he owned the entire building (which, to be fair, wasn't entirely wrong). Each time, his eyes lingered a little too long, his smirk a little too knowing.

By the time the clock struck six, you were more than ready to head home. But as you gathered your things, Jeonghan's voice cut through the silence of the nearly empty office.

"Leaving already?"

You glanced up, finding him standing in the doorway of his office, his jacket slung casually over one shoulder. He looked as put-together as ever, but there was something in his expression that gave you pause—something unreadable.

"It's late," you replied, forcing your voice to remain steady. "I figured you'd be the first to kick me out."

Jeonghan chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing just in front of your desk. He placed a hand on the surface, leaning in slightly. "And miss the chance to give you a ride home? That doesn't sound like me."

You narrowed your eyes, already sensing the trap. "I can manage, thanks."

"Don't be stubborn," he said smoothly. "You've had a long day. Consider it a peace offering for earlier."

Earlier. As if that entire thing hadn't left you questioning every decision you'd made in the past 48 hours.

Still, there was no winning against Jeonghan when he got like this, and you were too tired to argue. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed your bag and followed him to the elevator.

The ride down was silent, save for the soft hum of the elevator music. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor numbers as they ticked by, trying to ignore the way Jeonghan's presence filled the small space.

It wasn't until you were in his car, the city lights blurring past the windows, that he finally broke the silence.

"You know," he began, his tone almost conversational, "you handled those gossiping idiots pretty well today."

You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. "Were you expecting me to cry in the bathroom instead?"

He smirked. "Not exactly. But I have to admit, watching you put them in their place was... entertaining."

"I'm glad my misery is amusing to you."

"Don't twist my words." He turned to you briefly, his expression softening. "I meant it. You were impressive. People like that—they don't deserve your energy."

For a moment, you didn't know what to say. Compliments from Jeonghan were rare, and hearing him say something so genuine left you oddly unsettled.

"Thanks," you muttered, turning to look out the window.

The car fell silent again, but this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you hesitated before reaching for the door handle.

"Jeonghan," you began, glancing at him, "why... why are you doing all this?"

He tilted his head, his eyes locking with yours. "Doing what?"

"This." You gestured vaguely between the two of you. "Acting like you care. Protecting me. Dragging me into... whatever the hell this is."

For a long moment, he didn't answer. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair.

"Honestly?" he said, his voice quieter now. "I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't. But here we are."

You stared at him, searching his expression for any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was exhaustion, vulnerability, and something else you couldn't quite name.

"Goodnight, Jeonghan," you said softly, opening the door.

"Night," he replied, watching as you stepped out of the car and disappeared into the building.

Entering your apartment, you lazily set your bag down the table before falling onto your bed. Your body was aching from earlier—no, probably not just from how Jeonghan fucked you bad, but Wonwoo too, last night. You had sex in two nights streak, of course your body would ache.

You opened your phone—though you wanted to sleep already, you still had to check on your schedule for streams tomorrow since it was sunday, you had really nothing much to do. Then you received a discord notification popped up. It was Hoshi spamming your username on one of the servers. You didn't want to open the app, you were too exhausted to even deal with Hoshi's godforsaken childishness, but you opened it anyways.

#general ho5hi_kwon: @/kitsunya ho5hi_kwon: Are you free tomorrow? We're gonna watch a LOL competition, Wonwoo, Jun, Minghao, and Vernon's playing. dk_is_dokyeom: Dude stop forcing her to come all the time dk_is_dokyeom: Do you like her or something 😏 ho5hi_kwon: NAH. YOU LIKED HER. pledis_boos: We all know, Seokmin. We all know

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. These idiots. Whenever the three were in the same room, it'd always end up being chaotic.

Then there was that. Your thoughts wandered back to those days—Seokmin's shy smile when he confessed under the cherry blossom trees, his constant efforts to make you laugh, his warm hugs when you were at your lowest. You'd loved him, in your own way, but breaking up had been your only option. Your life had been a mess back then, and dragging him down with you was something you refused to do.

You shook the memories away and glanced back at the chat. Seokmin was probably sulking already. He always did when the teasing went too far, you couldn't bear to see your high school sweetheart get involved in your mess.

But now, he isn't the type to be teased like this. You knew he'd sulk real hard and maybe not even talk to Hoshi or Seungkwan for a couple of days.

You chatted on the server once their fighting has cooled down.

#general kitsunya: yea, sure, ill go kitsunya: send me the details ho5hi_kwon: I already sent the link. Don't dare be late.

You locked your phone and let it drop onto your bed. Why had you agreed to go? You didn't even know. Maybe it was exhaustion clouding your judgment. Maybe you just didn't want to be alone with your thoughts of Jeonghan or Wonwoo.

The next morning, your alarm kept ringing. God knows how many times you already pressed the infamous snooze button. But then you remembered, The LoL competition was starting 12 pm. You checked the time on your phone—10:57 am. You groaned before dragging yourself from the comfort of your bed.

You took your sweet time in the shower, glancing at the clock it was 11:32 already. Who cares if you were late. It's not like anyone would care.

You took your time drying your hair and picking out your outfit—a simple gray cardigan layered over a black tank top, paired with baggy black cargo pants and sleek white Converse. To top it off, you slung pastel red headphones around your neck, adding a subtle pop of color. Afterward, you finished with your usual makeup routine, keeping it effortless yet polished.

One last check in front of the mirror, you grabbed your shoulder bag and your phone before Dm-ing Hoshi.

[DM] - hamster freak You: im going to be a little late Hoshi: Thanks for the information. You're already 37 minutes late by the way, did you forget to set an alarm or something? Hoshi: Youre mean. You: dw baby, miss me already? Hoshi: ... You know what, you don't need to come after all. Hoshi: I don't want to see you You: aw stop ure making me want to go You: ill be there to haunt you <3

You took out a small chuckle before you walked your way to the parking lot to enter your car.

You arrived at the venue. And guess who's waiting for you outside the place? Hoshi.

"The hell? How long have you been waiting here?" You asked as you approached him.

He shrugged. "I thought you'd arrive 5 minutes ago, and I was with Jihoon, he went to grab us a few snacks."

"Wow, Woozi would really do something for you?"

"No, he lost a game." He grinned. And you chuckled lightly.

As Woozi gets back, holding a bag of snacks with him, a frown on his face, Hoshi grabbed lollipops, handing one over to you.

You grabbed the lollipop, popping it into your mouth. "Hey Mr. tofu," you greeted with a smile.

"Please don't call me that ever again," Woozi replied with a sigh. Your grin widened. Teasing him always seemed to be your favorite thing to do. You remember teasing him so hard on a stream once that he left the voice chat.

"It suits you," Hoshi chimed in biting on the candies.

You offered to carry some of the bag, but Woozi didn't let you. He can't have a girl help him.

The three of you entered the venue and it didn't take long when you finally met up with the rest of the group. Jun and Minghao were so focused on their computers, playing an LoL 1v1 before the competition started. Vernon was sitting on one of the couches, talking to his girlfriend. And Wonwoo? He was nowhere to be found. Why were you even looking for him in the first place?

"If it isn't for Ms. Fox." You turned to see Seungkwan. A unamused smile crept through your lips. "Oh, it's just you." You replied, earning a chuckle from Hoshi.

"At least I'm not out looking for Wonwoo," Seungkwan replied. You scoffed—hell if that's even true (it is).

You rolled your eyes at Seungkwan's comment but didn't dignify it with a response. Instead, you plopped onto the nearest chair, leaning back as you popped the lollipop back into your mouth.

"You know," Seungkwan continued, sitting on the armrest beside you, "for someone who's 'not looking for Wonwoo,' you sure keep glancing around a lot."

"Get a hobby, Boo," you shot back, smirking at the way his face fell into mock offense.

Jun and Minghao, oblivious to the banter, were still locked in their intense 1v1, their focus unwavering. Hoshi, now sitting cross-legged on the floor, had already started opening a second lollipop, while Woozi muttered something under his breath about "children" as he sat beside him. Vernon, still on the couch, gave you a small wave before turning back to talk to his girlfriend.

You stayed there for a while, trying to relax, but the energy in the room was buzzing—both from the impending competition and your own thoughts. Wonwoo was still nowhere to be seen, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to find him.

"Be right back," you said, standing up and stretching.

"Where are you going?" Seungkwan called after you.

"To mind my business. You should try it," you quipped, earning a chorus of laughter from the others.

You wandered out of the room, letting the chatter and laughter fade behind you as you strolled through the venue. The place was massive—crowds of gamers and fans gathered around booths and screens, the excitement almost infectious. But you weren't here to browse or soak in the energy. Your feet seemed to move on their own, taking you toward a quieter hallway at the back of the venue.

That's when you saw him.

Wonwoo was leaning against a wall near an emergency exit, his face illuminated by the faint glow of his phone. He looked relaxed, but there was a tension in his posture that only you, someone who knew him well enough, could notice.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. He didn't look up, but his voice reached you before you could say anything.

"Looking for me?" he asked, his tone calm but carrying that hint of amusement that always managed to throw you off.

You stopped in your tracks, crossing your arms as you leaned casually against the opposite wall. "And what if I was?" you replied, your voice dripping with nonchalance.

Wonwoo finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. There was something unreadable in his eyes, a mix of curiosity and something deeper you couldn't quite place. "Then I'd say you've found me," he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Silence stretched between you, not awkward but heavy enough to make your chest feel tight. You couldn't help but let your eyes roam over him—the way his black hoodie hung loosely on his frame, the faint scruff on his jaw that somehow made him look even more attractive. Damn him.

"You disappeared," you said finally, breaking the silence.

"Needed some air," he replied, his voice low. "Didn't think anyone would come looking."

"Well," you started, pushing off the wall and stepping closer, "I wasn't exactly looking for you. Just needed a break from Seungkwan's mouth."

Wonwoo smirked, the corner of his lips curling in that infuriatingly subtle way of his. "Sure," he said, his tone laced with doubt.

You rolled your eyes, stepping past him toward the door. "Don't flatter yourself, Jeon," you tossed over your shoulder, reaching for the door handle.

But before you could pull it open, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you froze, turning to look at him.

"Stay," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pinning you in place. His hand was warm against your wrist, and for a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just you and him, caught in a moment that felt far too intimate for two people who supposedly had nothing unresolved between them. Supposedly.

"Why?" you asked, your voice softer than you intended, almost a whisper.

Wonwoo's thumb brushed against your skin absentmindedly, and he looked away for a second, as if gathering his thoughts. "Because I don't want to be alone right now," he admitted, the honesty in his tone catching you off guard.

Your heart clenched, and for reasons you couldn't explain, you stayed. You let the door close and leaned back against it, crossing your arms as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation. "Fine," you said casually, though your pulse betrayed you by racing like you'd just run a marathon. "But you're buying me dinner after this."

He huffed out a quiet laugh, his usual stoicism cracking just a little. "Deal."

The two of you stood there for a while, the silence settling again but this time less suffocating, more like a fragile truce. Wonwoo leaned back against the wall, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, and you couldn't help but notice how the dim light softened his features, making him look almost vulnerable.

"You know," you said finally, breaking the quiet, "you're not exactly the easiest person to read."

"Good," he replied without missing a beat. "Keeps things interesting."

You let out a dry laugh. "For who? You? Because everyone else just ends up confused."

Wonwoo's lips twitched into another smirk, but his eyes stayed serious as they locked onto yours. "Not everyone. You're not as confused as you think."

Your breath hitched, and you hated how easily he got under your skin, how he always seemed to know just the right thing to say to leave you teetering on the edge of something you weren't ready to name.

"Maybe I'm just good at pretending," you shot back, narrowing your eyes slightly.

He pushed off the wall and took a step closer, closing the already small space between you. You had nowhere to go, your back pressed against the door, and the air felt heavier with each passing second. His presence was overwhelming, but you refused to back down.

"Maybe," he said quietly, his face just inches from yours now. "But I don't think you're pretending right now."

Before you could respond, his hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture so unexpected and gentle it made your chest tighten all over again. His fingers lingered for a moment, grazing your cheek, and you hated the way your body reacted to his touch, how your resolve seemed to melt under his intense gaze.

"Wonwoo," you began, your voice wavering.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but no words came. Instead, you found yourself leaning into him, the tension snapping as his lips captured yours in a kiss that was equal parts soft and demanding.

It was nothing like the heated night you two shared before. There was no hurried desperation, no reckless abandon. This was slower, deeper, as if he was trying to say all the things he couldn't put into words. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you didn't resist. Couldn't resist.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and slightly dazed, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you in place.

"Still pretending?" he asked, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability.

You didn't answer. Instead, you closed the gap between you again, kissing him like you were trying to drown out all the questions swirling in your mind. For now, answers could wait.

The kiss deepened, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand gripping your waist while the other cradled the back of your head, pulling you closer as his tongue teased yours.

It was just yesterday when Jeonghan had you shivering under him. And now here you were, entangled with Wonwoo, kissing him like nothing had happened with Jeonghan. It felt wrong. But then again... was there anything to feel wrong about? Did you and Jeonghan even have a thing? Did this—whatever this was—mean anything?

Two men? Really? Neither of them knows you've been fucking with them alternatively like they're just some kind of toy for you. You didn't want that at all.

YYou pulled away, your breath hitching as your cheeks flushed hot. Wonwoo's dark gaze lingered on you, searching your face as though he could see the questions swirling in your mind.

"What exactly is this..?" you asked, your voice a little more unsteady than you'd hoped.

Wonwoo hesitated, leaning back slightly. His arms caged you against the door, the space between you just wide enough for the tension to thrum. "What do you want it to be?"

He didn't answer at all, it only made you even more confused. "I asked first."

"Then I won't answer. So tell me," he said, his voice steady but edged with something you couldn't quite place. "What exactly do you want this to be?"

The question made your breath catch. It was as though he already knew the answer but wanted you to say it first. "I wouldn't have asked if I knew," you murmured, more to yourself than him.

Wonwoo exhaled sharply through his nose, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Then figure it out." He stepped back slightly, his posture relaxing as he leaned against the wall, pulling his phone from his pocket. "You're lying again." He added before turning away completely.

It felt like a dismissal, one that stung more than it should have.

"I'm leaving," you said, your tone sharper than intended as you moved toward the door.

But his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You're not even gonna wish me good luck?" he called out, his tone light, teasing, almost mockingly casual.

You glanced back at him, narrowing your eyes. "I came to see you lose," you shot back, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "And for the record, I'm not your girlfriend."

You stuck your tongue out for good measure before turning on your heel and walking away quickly, leaving no room for him to reply.

Wonwoo watched you disappear, his expression unreadable. But as the door clicked shut behind you, he let out a low chuckle.

"... Yet," he murmured under his breath, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. You said what you said, and you knew it would trigger him to admitting first.

By the time you made it back to the group, Seungkwan was mid-rant, Hoshi laughing so hard he nearly dropped his soda. Jun and Minghao had moved on from their 1v1 and were watching the pre-match highlights on the screen. Vernon was still on the couch, this time half-listening to Seungkwan while scrolling on his phone.

"Oh, look who finally decided to show up," Seungkwan said the moment he spotted you, his voice dripping with mock sarcasm. "Where've you been, Ms. Fox? Lurking in the shadows, plotting our downfall?"

You rolled your eyes, plopping down onto the chair next to Hoshi. "I don't need to lurk in shadows to take you down, Seungkwan. Your mouth does that for me."

The group burst into laughter, Hoshi nearly choking on his drink. "She's got a point," Minghao quipped, smirking.

"Wow, so much for team spirit," Seungkwan shot back, clutching his chest dramatically. "What did I ever do to deserve such cruelty?"

"You existed," you replied with a smirk, earning a high-five from Hoshi.

The banter continued for a while, light and easy, until the sound of a door clicking open made everyone pause.

Wonwoo walked in.

He moved with his usual calm, unbothered demeanor, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. His gaze swept across the room, landing on you for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Ah, here he is, the man of the hour!" Hoshi cheered, throwing a potato chip in Wonwoo's direction. "Ready to crush some noobs?"

Wonwoo ignored him, his lips twitching in a small smile as he walked over to where you sat. Leaning down slightly, he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, "Miss me already?"

Your breath hitched, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. "You wish."

His smirk deepened, and before you could say anything else, he pulled up a chair beside you, his knee brushing yours under the table.

The others, oblivious to the tension, resumed their chatter, but you couldn't shake the way his proximity sent your nerves into overdrive.

"You good?" Hoshi asked, tilting his head at you.

"Perfect," you said, forcing a smile.

But then Wonwoo spoke again, this time louder. "You know," he began, his tone casual but his eyes locked on yours, "she was pretty sweet earlier. Didn't think she'd have it in her."

The room went quiet, all eyes snapping to you.

"Sweet?" Seungkwan repeated, narrowing his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You glared at Wonwoo, your face heating up. "He's delusional. Ignore him."

"Am I?" Wonwoo teased, leaning back in his chair with a smug expression.

Before you could retort, Hoshi interjected. "Hold on. Are we missing something here? Why does it feel like there's... something going on?"

"There's nothing going on," you said quickly, shooting a warning glare at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo raised his hands in mock surrender, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn't done. For the rest of the conversation, he kept it subtle—fleeting glances, the occasional brush of his hand against yours, a smirk every time your eyes met. It was enough to drive you insane.

The others weren't blind. Seungkwan, especially, was watching the two of you like a hawk. "Something's definitely up," he muttered to Vernon, who just nodded, looking mildly amused.

And then the door opened again.

Jeonghan strolled in, effortlessly commanding the room as always. He greeted everyone with his usual charm, but when his eyes landed on you, something flickered in his expression.

"Ah, there's my favorite," Jeonghan said smoothly, his voice laced with a warmth that felt far too intimate for comfort.

You stiffened, your eyes darting to Wonwoo, whose jaw tightened ever so slightly.

"Late as usual," Jeonghan added, walking over and placing a hand on the back of your chair. His fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of his gaze.

"Traffic," you replied, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing.

"Mm," Jeonghan hummed, his eyes lingering on you before shifting to Wonwoo. "Good luck today, Wonwoo. I'm sure she'll be cheering for you."

The tension was palpable. Wonwoo's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't rise to the bait.

"Of course," Wonwoo said, his voice calm but edged with something sharper. "She's already wished me luck in her own... special way."

Jeonghan's smile didn't falter, but his gaze grew sharper as it flicked back to you. "Is that so?"

You wanted to crawl under the table.

"Alright, that's enough," you said, standing abruptly. "I'm going to grab some air before this testosterone overload suffocates me."

You left the room quickly, feeling both men's eyes on you as you went.

The cold air outside the venue did little to clear your spinning thoughts. Leaning against the wall, you tilted your head back and took a deep breath. What the hell is wrong with me? First Wonwoo, now Jeonghan. The back-and-forth between them felt like a game you couldn't keep up with, and it was messing with your head.

Your moment of peace didn't last long. The sound of a door swinging open made you flinch. You didn't even need to look to know who it was.

"Running away again?" Jeonghan's smooth voice cut through the silence.

You sighed, keeping your gaze fixed on the sky. "Didn't know I had to explain my every move to you."

He chuckled, stepping closer until he was leaning against the wall beside you. "You don't. But it's fun watching you squirm."

You turned to glare at him, but the amusement in his eyes made it impossible to stay mad. He had that effect on people—disarming them with a single glance, making them forget why they were upset in the first place.

"Seriously, what do you want, Jeonghan?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"Just checking on you," he said, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours. "You seemed... tense back there."

"I'm fine."

"Are you?" He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like a certain someone was getting under your skin."

Your cheeks heated, and you immediately looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully, straightening up. "If you say so. Just remember..." He hesitated, a rare moment of seriousness flashing across his face. "Not everyone plays fair."

Before you could ask what he meant, the door opened again, and this time, it was Wonwoo.

His gaze flicked between the two of you, his expression unreadable. "We're starting soon," he said, his voice steady but his eyes locked on Jeonghan's hand resting casually on the wall near your shoulder.

Jeonghan smiled, stepping back with an exaggerated stretch. "Guess I'll see you both inside, then."

He walked off, leaving you alone with Wonwoo. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"You good?" Wonwoo asked after a beat.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" you muttered, brushing past him to head back inside.

The room was buzzing with excitement as the matches began. You found a seat near the back with Hoshi and Seungkwan, who were both yelling their predictions over each other.

"10,000 won (seven bucks in USD) says Minghao takes the win," Seungkwan declared, stuffing popcorn into his mouth.

"Please, it's going to be Wonwoo," Hoshi shot back.

"Don't bet your snacks. You'll lose," you said dryly, earning a laugh from Hoshi.

The first round was a chaotic storm of champions clashing across the map. Jun, known for his unconventional picks, played an unexpectedly aggressive strategy, diving into enemy territory with bold moves that had the crowd roaring in surprise. Despite his daring plays, his occasional overextensions cost him valuable objectives.

Vernon, on the other hand, played a game of precision. He focused on controlling vision and sneaking objectives, his calculated decisions earning him steady ground. Every play felt like a chess move, deliberate and cerebral.

But it was Minghao who stole the spotlight early on. His champion of choice, a mechanically complex assassin, zipped across the map with unnerving efficiency. His precision in landing skills and uncanny sense of timing had even the commentators struggling to keep up.

"Unreal!" one of them exclaimed as Minghao pulled off a near-impossible triple kill under turret. "Minghao is playing like a pro today. That's a highlight reel moment right there!"

Then there was Wonwoo. His gameplay was as smooth and methodical as ever, every move calculated to perfection. His champion, a versatile mage, danced on the edge of danger, dishing out massive damage while dodging death by a hair's breadth. The way he controlled team fights, predicting his opponents' moves, was mesmerizing.

Yet, from your spot in the audience, something felt... off.

The tournament narrowed to the final rounds, the competition growing fiercer with each game. Minghao, Wonwoo, and Hyeina (Vernon's girlfriend), the other contestant dominated her brackets, while Jun and Vernon made valiant efforts but fell behind.

In the semifinals, Minghao and Wonwoo clashed head-on. Every moment was charged, the room so quiet during team fights that you could hear the players' keyboards clicking like gunfire.

Minghao's assassin darted through the shadows, targeting Wonwoo's backline with surgical precision. But Wonwoo's mage held its ground, zoning Minghao out with well-placed spells. The two traded kills and counterplays, the audience bouncing between gasps and cheers as the scoreboard evened out.

At one point, Minghao narrowly escaped a death trap Wonwoo had meticulously set, slipping away with a sliver of health. The crowd erupted in disbelief, and even Minghao, usually composed, let a small grin slip as he glanced across the row of PCs toward Wonwoo.

"Nice try," Minghao teased, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear but quiet enough not to catch the commentators' attention.

Wonwoo didn't respond, his jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the screen.

The Final Match

The finals arrived. The match pitted Minghao, Wonwoo, and Hyeina against one another in a free-for-all deathmatch—a battle royale to crown the victor.

The atmosphere was electric. Spectators leaned forward in their seats, their excitement palpable.

As the game unfolded, it became clear this wasn't just about skill. It was about mental fortitude. Minghao's assassin thrived in the chaos, darting in and out of fights with deadly precision. The pro player focused on controlling the map, securing key objectives to maintain his lead.

Wonwoo, however, was visibly different. While his plays were sharp, there was a hesitation in his movements. It was subtle, but you noticed it.

And then it happened.

In the middle of a crucial team fight near Baron, Wonwoo's mage was in the perfect position to deal a devastating combo. His team was counting on him. The enemy champions grouped together, a rare opening for a game-changing attack.

But his eyes flickered—just for a second—to the audience. To you.

More specifically, to Jeonghan.

You hadn't noticed until now, but Jeonghan's arm rested casually on the back of your chair, his body angled just slightly toward yours. It wasn't overtly intimate, but it was enough to draw Wonwoo's attention.

His hand hesitated on the keyboard. That split-second pause was all it took.

Minghao, ever opportunistic, dove into the fight with precision. His assassin eliminated Wonwoo's mage in seconds, turning what could've been Wonwoo's moment of glory into a crushing defeat.

"Unbelievable! Minghao secures the ace!" the commentator shouted, the audience exploding into cheers.

As the game ended, the results flashed on the screen:

1st Place: Minghao

2nd Place: Wonwoo

3rd Place: Hyeina

4th Place: Vernon

5th Place: Jun

Minghao leaned back in his chair, arms raised in triumph as the crowd cheered his name. Jun clapped enthusiastically, shouting something about how "he taught Minghao everything he knows."

Wonwoo, meanwhile, sat frozen at his station, his fingers still hovering over the keys. His jaw tightened as he stared at the screen, the weight of his loss sinking in.

After the tournament, the group gathered near the exit, congratulating Minghao on his win.

"You were insane out there!" Hoshi exclaimed, clapping Minghao on the back.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Seungkwan said, waving him off. "The real story here is what happened to Wonwoo? You totally choked in that last fight."

"I didn't choke," Wonwoo said, his tone sharper than usual.

"Sure," Seungkwan teased. "It's not like you were distracted or anything." His eyes darted to you, a sly grin spreading across his face.

You glared at him. "Don't start."

"Don't start what? I didn't say anything!"

Wonwoo, who had been silent, finally spoke up. "Let it go, Seungkwan." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made everyone shut up.

The awkward silence that followed was broken by Jeonghan's arrival. He walked in with his usual confidence, his eyes briefly meeting Wonwoo's before landing on you.

"Ready to head out?" Jeonghan asked, his tone light but pointed.

You hesitated, glancing at Wonwoo, whose expression was unreadable.

"Yeah," you said finally, grabbing your bag. "Let's go."

As you walked out with Jeonghan, you couldn't shake the feeling of Wonwoo's eyes on your back.

The walk back with Jeonghan is heavier than you anticipated. He doesn't outright tease you like he usually does—instead, his tone shifts to something uncharacteristically serious as he brings up Wonwoo's reaction during the match.

"You know," Jeonghan starts, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets, "he's never been that distracted before. I almost feel bad for him."

"Feel bad?" you scoff, trying to ignore the pang of guilt his words stir in you.

Jeonghan stops walking, turning to face you. "I get it, though. You're... hard to ignore." His gaze softens, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

"Jeonghan..."

He steps closer, closing the space between you. His voice lowers, intimate, almost a whisper. "I'm not like him. I don't get distracted. When I want something, I take it."

Before you can process his words, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen and smirks. "Saved by the bell. Let's get back to the others before they start a search party."

The moment passes, leaving you reeling as you follow him back inside.

The group gathered after the tournament, energy high from the event. Seungkwan and Hoshi were relentless, teasing Wonwoo about his second-place finish.

"Come on, man," Seungkwan said, grinning. "Second place isn't that bad. It's just, you know... not first."

Hoshi chimed in, "And hey, at least you didn't lose to Vernon's girlfriend! Minghao's cool with it too. That's gotta count for something."

Wonwoo forced a smile, but his usual sharp comebacks were absent. His eyes flickered to you once, twice, before he finally stood and excused himself.

Minghao, ever observant, leaned toward you. "You okay?"

You nodded quickly, brushing it off. But as your gaze followed Wonwoo's retreating figure, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your chest.

"Minghao, the champion," Vernon announced dramatically, using his phone to film the moment. "First place for only the second-best LoL player in the room!"

Minghao rolled his eyes, pushing Vernon off. "Shut up, Vernon. You're just mad because you got fourth."

"Hey, fourth is still a medal," Vernon protested, holding up an imaginary gold medal and waving it in Minghao's face. "You know what they say, bronze is for champions too!"

"Fifth, Vernon. Fifth." Jun deadpanned, smacking Vernon on the back of the head. "Don't act like you didn't lose to your girlfriend."

"Not the point, Jun." Vernon sighed dramatically, turning to Woozi for backup, but Woozi, who'd been too busy sinking into his chair post-tournament, just shrugged. "Maybe next time, Vernon."

Meanwhile, Wonwoo, still nursing his second-place loss, had moved to the back of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes flickered from his phone to you and back again, each glance slightly more pained than the last.

Seungkwan, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, Wonwoo! Don't be too upset about second place. At least you didn't lose to a noob."

"I didn't lose to a noob," Wonwoo muttered, glancing up at Seungkwan. "Minghao's practically a legend in his own right. It's just..."

"Just what?" Seungkwan grinned mischievously, nudging him. "You distracted by someone else on the sidelines?"

Wonwoo froze, his eyes widening for a split second before he forced a grin. "What are you talking about?" he said, pushing away from the wall to join the others, a little too quickly. "I'm fine."

"You're not fooling anyone," Seungkwan shot back, arching an eyebrow. "I saw you practically zoned out when you were supposed to be taking down Minghao's assassin and then you just stared at someone—someone who happens to be sitting next to Jeonghan."

Cue the awkward silence that followed. Everyone immediately turned to look at you, then back at Wonwoo.

The heat rising to Wonwoo's cheeks was almost too funny, and you couldn't help but smirk. "I wasn't staring at anyone," he muttered, though it was obvious to everyone that he'd been thinking about something—or someone—during that match.

"Oh, please," Hoshi cut in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's like watching a badly scripted K-drama. Wonwoo, bro, I think you might have feelings for our girl here." He wagged his eyebrows dramatically.

"Shut up, Hoshi," Wonwoo growled.

"Wow, are we really doing this now?" Minghao jumped in with an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest. "The Love Triangle Drama: Episode 1. First place and already the star of the show!" He gave an exaggerated bow, clearly enjoying the chaos.

"You know, this tournament could've been more fun if someone didn't get all distracted by their feelings," Jun said with a wink, completely ignoring the fact that he was also in the bottom half of the rankings.

"Yeah, at least you could have gotten first if you weren't so distracted!" Vernon added helpfully. "Who needs to focus when you've got heart-eyes, right, Wonwoo?"

The entire room burst into laughter. Even Woozi, who had been trying to stay out of the conversation, snorted into his drink, making everyone laugh even harder.

Wonwoo's face turned a shade of crimson, but he could do nothing but grin sheepishly. "Okay, okay, enough. You guys are insufferable."

Just when the teasing reached its peak, the door to the room opened, and Jeonghan casually strolled in, a smug smile plastered on his face.

“Well, well, well,” he said in a voice laced with mischief, taking in the scene with a knowing look. “What have we here? A bunch of losers and an overly distracted second-place finisher?”

Wonwoo stiffened at the sound of Jeonghan’s voice, and you, suddenly aware of the charged atmosphere between the three of you, quickly stood up, trying to play it cool.

“I’m not distracted,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath, but Jeonghan was already looking at you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Oh? You sure about that?” Jeonghan teased, eyes flicking between you and Wonwoo. “I mean, I was just sitting next to her, and someone over there couldn’t even finish a team fight without—” Jeonghan paused, throwing a glance at Wonwoo’s flushed face. “...well, we all saw it.”

Wonwoo’s face fell, the teasing from his friends now blending with the tension in the room. But before anyone could comment further, Jeonghan stepped toward you, wrapping a lazy arm around your shoulders in a move that was way too casual for the situation.

“I don’t know what all this fuss is about,” Jeonghan said, his voice smooth, his smirk never leaving his lips. “But if anyone should be distracted, it’s because I’m here now.”

Wonwoo’s gaze darkened, and you could feel the heat building in the air. The laughter from the others died down as everyone realized the shift in the mood.

“You’re really doing this, Jeonghan?” Wonwoo muttered, not bothering to mask the irritation in his tone.

Jeonghan just laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “What? Am I not allowed to stand next to my favorite teammate?”

The teasing in the room became suffocating, but the mix of humor and tension was what made it unbearable. Everyone knew what was happening. It was clear, and no one was pretending anymore.

a/n: i have nothing to say but to thank you to everyone who kept me going. want to be added to the permanent series (part-time lover) taglist? reblog or comment on the post and you'll be added to every next update of a chapter :]

(p.s. idk maybe i shouldnt have added too much angst? BTW POSTING A POLL (or shouldnt? doesnt matter)—majority wins. Jeonghan or Wonwoo? who do you much prefer to be the end game? lmk !)

taglist: @asyre @choppedballoondetective @kpoppiesofinternet @syluslittlecrow @minhui896

@october-saturn @kpop-will-kill-me @elegantdevill1 @shidily @angel-ishere

@lovrchl @codeinebelle @httpnamu-u @httpnamjoonie94 @6nadia9

@jjonghaniee @ateez-atiny380 @squishysquishjimin @jeonghaniya @thelost-soul

@foulcolorclodoaf-blog @133456789000000000000

(tysm for reblogging :3)

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milliesfishes · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! I simply ADORE your writing and idk if you’re taking requests right now but I’d love an accidental pregnancy with Billy story (maybe even with some enemies to lovers vibes)!

౨ৎ꣑ৎStaying౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: angst, pregnancy, bullet wound pairing: billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: sorry this took forever! here's your poll winner I hope you like it hehe. thank you @phantomamor for reading through it for me mwah Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

His hair was a mess. Curly and free of his hat for once, dancing over the plane of his forehead. You could count every freckle on his cheek if you wanted to, easier than counting stars. His breathing was soft, escaping his slightly parted lips in brief little puffs. He was sunk into the mattress next to you, arm slung around your side, fingers splayed over your back. You hadn't bothered to redress and neither had he.

It must have been nearly an hour since you woke up, his heartbeat stuttering in your ears. Even when you'd shifted, he hadn't woken. It'd likely been a long time since he'd slept in a decent bed, so used to collapsing and shutting his eyes whenever he could. Although he'd been here renting this room for nearly a week, there wasn't any way he was used to it yet. Or maybe he was just relaxed. You'd slept better than expected too.

Blinking, you shook yourself out of your daze, suddenly realizing where you were. Billy Bonney's bed. Billy the Kid's bed. And he was sprawled out as if it were nothing, palm warming your side, maybe leaving a handprint with how long it'd been resting there.

Sitting up, you watched his hand drop from your waist to your thigh. He still didn't stir. Letting the sheet fall away, you stiffened upon seeing the patches of red that marked his trail of kisses down your body, the result of his stubble rubbing at your skin. It'd been deliciously satisfying at the time, but now the leftover sting only heightened your shame.

Reaching down and rubbing at the most prominent marks on each inner thigh, you squeezed your eyes shut. Your innocence had been surrendered to a man whose face was splashed all over the West with a reward over his hat. The same hat you'd knocked off his head so you could tangle your hand in his hair. It'd been softer than you remembered.

Your brother James' childhood friendship with him as well as your brief romance felt like decades ago. It ended when he'd skipped town without so much as a letter. Needless to say, it'd been a shock to see him leaning on the bar last night, sipping his drink and grinning at something another man said. And when your eyes caught his, there was nearly a string of fire stretched in the distance between you. Everything unspoken pushed you together again, until there was no separation.

He'd been so smooth last night. Gentle, touch like a butterfly as he unwrapped you from your dress and whispered things that set your heart aflame. Though there were new shadows behind his eyes, this was the same Billy who'd told you he loved you all those years ago. You knew him, but obviously you hadn't known him.

He'd filled out in the time he'd been away. Your Billy Antrim had been broad and manly, but this Billy was somehow broad-er. Pressed against you now, it was easier to tell. He wasn't at all a kid, contrary to the name he'd earned from the law. It'd been freeing to be with him. You'd felt alive. This was something you'd done for yourself, no watchful eye of a protective brother standing above you like a lighthouse.

Maybe a piece of your heart had always been with him. It was so easy to fall back into your old patterns, conversation flowing like water, his touch familiar and safe. When he'd kissed you, it was like you'd found the X on a map you didn't know you were following. Was it worth all the heartbreak you'd nursed for so long?

Billy's hand twitched on your thigh, squeezing lightly, and you decided it was.

Lying back down, you pressed your cheek to his chest, settling your hand over his heart and letting yourself relax. Subconsciously, Billy's arm tightened around you, and you felt your eyes growing heavier. In all the time you'd imagined being in love, you never thought you'd feel comfortable sleeping next to someone. Apparently, your imagination had steered you wrong. It felt so safe here, like his arms could ward off any darkness that crossed your path. Except of course, for the night, when he would make love to you and hold you until you both succumbed to your dreams.

As you drifted off again, cozy and sleepy, you could finally place the feeling that'd been knocking at your back.

Home. He made you feel like you were home.

Shielding your eyes from the sun, you peered out into the distance from the porch. James was supposed to be back by now with everything you'd sent him into town for. Normally you would've gone yourself, but today he'd insisted.

Not bothering to argue, you'd distracted yourself with chores, hoping it'd fill more hours than it had. The house was spotless now, the animals fed, dinner on the fire. The only thing missing was your brother.

Maybe he'd been held up in town. You wouldn't be surprised. There wasn't a soul your brother couldn't make friends with, and he put it to the test wherever he went. Leaning on the railing, you sighed, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the growling in your stomach. You were supposed to eat regularly, and your brother was aware of that. Ordinarily you'd go ahead and serve yourself up a portion, but one of the missing ingredients happened to be on the list you'd sent him out with.

It'd been a tense few months. There'd been troubles with the ranch hands, as well as a mysterious outbreak among the horses that only allowed one person to leave at a time. Not that you minded. It wasn't like you'd want to go to town anyways, for fear of who you'd see.

The ranch was distant enough to give you some peace. And you were able to avoid prying eyes, or whatever gossip could circulate. Now more than ever, you were wary of it. Ever since that night with Billy, truthfully. Last time you'd graced the bounds of town, you'd been on edge, scanning for familiar blue eyes, or curls peeking out from under his hat. Mercifully, he was nowhere to be found.

Time had passed. Enough time to grow bitter. The feeling left a bad taste in your mouth, but you couldn't spit it out. It had grown, twisting around your bones and wrapping fingers across your throat. If James had noticed, he hadn't said anything, though he didn't have to. The way he'd handled you lately told you everything you needed to know.

You bent your head, feeling slightly faint with hunger. Hair falling in front of your eyes, you stared down at the skirt of your loose-fitting dress. Sorting through what you had in the cabinets, you wondered if you could make do without what you'd been waiting on. As soon as you began to entertain the notion, it was dismissed. You'd been craving this soup all day, even in the warm of the dying summer. August was full of endings, and you felt as though you were hurrying along its departure by making something you usually reserved for winter.

Hoofbeats. Lifting your head, you perked up as you saw a horse in the distance, heading for you fast. Now you could make out James' familiar outline, of his hat and the dark grey shirt he'd left the house wearing this morning. Folding your arms and leaning back, you were ready to give him a hunger-induced earful for being late.

Squinting as he got closer, you could see the other rider behind him. From where they'd appeared on the horizon, you hadn't been able to make out the second horse, the other person tagging along. Smoothing your hair, you pushed aside any twinges of annoyance that came with James' apparent impromptu dinner invitation. You'd made enough food, surely, but you hadn't been expecting a visitor.

Your brother and his guest stopped, tying their horses and chatting all the while, the other man saying something that made your brother erupt in deep laughter as he hoisted his full bag from his horse. You stood up straight, thankful he'd at least followed the list.

Bounding up the stairs, James greeted you with a kiss to your cheek, holding your elbow with his free hand for a second. "You okay?" When you nodded, he squeezed, nodding briefly. "Got everything you asked for. And I brought Billy 'round for dinner."

Billy-?

You whipped to see the man standing at the bottom of the porch steps, hat in his hand as he looked up at you with those blue eyes that hadn't ever failed to put stars in yours. A tightness erupted in your chest, and you felt your expression drop. For a moment you were frozen, just staring at him.

Now memories from that night were stealing your vision. Waking up alone after falling back asleep, the spot next to you cold and empty. In fact, the room had been emptied of any remnant of him. The few possessions that had been strewn across the dresser had disappeared, along with his clothes, his boots, and his gun. When you looked out the window where the horses were tied up, his hadn't been among them. The only evidence he'd been there were the marks he'd left on your body and the indent in the other pillow.

He'd left you. Again.

Of course you'd felt stupid. Just like in your early youth, you'd fallen for his charm and heartbreak ensued. You should have known he hadn't changed. While the first time you'd been sad over it, now you were angry. And the following months only added fuel to your fire.

The way he'd looked at you had pulled you in, a lifeline in your sea of content misery. You'd been so hopeful, so happy over him that you hadn't taken any of the risk in mind. You didn't know what he'd been up to in the time that had passed. Seeing him in the bar that night, you hadn't asked questions, hadn't brought up anything about him leaving. It'd been nostalgic, a trick of the light that had you falling into his bed. And now you were paying the price for it.

All of this circled you like vultures over a fresh carcass as you stood there looking at him. He didn't break your gaze.

"C'mon, you're hungry, I know it," James said, putting his hand on your back and guiding you inside. "'m sorry I took so long. Didn't know Billy was back in town."

"Who would've guessed?" you asked, side-eyeing Billy as you allowed your brother to lead you in.

When you reached for his bag to dig out the soup's missing ingredient, James swatted your hand away. "You go sit. I know you've been on your feet too long today."

Billy looked at you curiously as you sat down, tucking your feet under the chair and chewing on your bottom lip. It felt embarrassing for your brother to be doing this right now, even though he had been for months. It was more that it was in front of Billy.

James started cutting the missing carrots, and you were left in silence with your unexpected guest as the sound of chopping filled the air. Billy shuffled where he stood, then decided to go into the kitchen. "I'll see if he needs any help." Only moments later he emerged, standing uncomfortably in front of the door.

You looked away, focusing on breathing in and out. Yet another thing you were supposed to do. Breathe and do it easy. It was okay. You'd been without him for months and you'd been fine. At least, that was what you had to tell yourself.

Billy sat across from you, and you could feel his eyes on you, though you didn't lift yours. Without looking, you knew his knee was bouncing, just a little. One of his nervous tics. "Didn't know James knew how to cook."

"He didn't until a few months ago." Your response was directed at the edge of the table, where your eyes followed the wooden pattern.

"How've you been?" he asked quietly, and you blinked.

It was a loaded answer. You didn't bother playing with telling him the truth. "Fine."

"James said you've been havin' a tough time," he muttered, and your eyes snapped up.

"What'd he say?" It came out harsher than you meant, and Billy's brow knit in confusion.

"Didn't say what about." Your shoulders slumped in relief, and he watched you suspiciously.

When you'd been his girl it'd been nearly startling how well he could read you. And the night you'd seen him again three months ago, it was evident how little that had changed. The way he'd been with your body against his, anticipating your needs, what you wanted him to do. He'd been perfect. It'd only made his leaving hurt more.

Opening his mouth, Billy began to ask you something but was interrupted by James bringing in the bowls of soup. You jumped up, but he shook his head. "Stay sitting. I'll get the other one." He kept leaving you alone with Billy. He didn't have a reason not to, but it still put you on edge. When your brother returned once more, some of the tension diffused, and you all lifted your spoons.

Dinner turned out well, even with the late addition of the carrots. James told a funny story about work that day and you finally cracked a smile, the burden on your heart lightening. When Billy answered James' question about what he'd been up to, you listened carefully, trying not to look like you were too interested.

"Had a bad run-in with a few folks from the last town I was in," he said, looking between you and James. The thumb of his hand on the table next to his empty bowl was tapping lightly, and you watched it. Up. Down. Up. Down. "Was actually here for a night a while ago but I had to skip again cause they found me."

You met his eyes, something chipping at the cast you'd put around your heart. That was why he'd left? Stiffening again, you looked down. He still could have said something. He'd had enough time to clear out his things, so he could have woken you or left a note or something. And then there was the matter of the first time he'd left too. A wound that hadn't healed, no matter how much you covered it and pretended it did.

James gave a low whistle. "You've had a real adventure. We're real glad to have you back, Billy."

"I shouldn't've ever left," he said, looking squarely at you. Heart thudding at your chest, you lowered your gaze.

Standing up, you fluffed your dress away from yourself, a habit. "I'm going to sit outside for a bit before bed."

James stood almost instantly, a hint of concern in his expression. "You feelin' okay? Need anything?"

"I'm fine," you promised, giving your dress another fluff. "I just want to watch the sunset." James accepted this, but you could feel Billy watching you leave.

Nearly collapsing on the front porch chair, you tried to focus on the sunset, counting the colors. This was an activity James had done with you one night when you were panicking, and it'd worked since. This was a different sort of panic, though. This was a disease eating at your insides, threatening to tear you in half.

You wouldn't deny you'd imagined seeing him again. Pictured what you'd say, what he'd say. But this was beyond what your mind could come up with. It was too soon. Too soon after everything. However much you'd thought you could handle had been an overestimation. No amount of time could have prepared you for his arrival here, in the one place you had left as refuge.

Red, blue, pink, orange. You made a list in your head. Clouds, grass, hills, trees. Maybe if you closed your eyes, everything would disappear. Every wrong sorrowful tragic aspect of your life gone in the blink of an eye.

How you wished these emotions had faded with time. If anything, the sand from the hourglass had coarsened them, created jagged shards of glass that cut you on the inside. At least nobody could see you bleeding.

When you heard boots on the floor, you stood, avoiding Billy's eyes as you watched the sun sink deeper into the earth. His scent hadn't changed- it was something distinct and all him. It permeated the air, nearly suffocating you.

"I'm sorry." He said it softly. You didn't bother looking. "I know me showin' up like this upset you-"

"I don't care what you do, Billy." Your tone was colder than you meant it to be, and beneath the shell you put around the woman you used to be, she winced.

"Sweetheart-" he paused when you winced. "I did a bad thing, I know. I hurt you-"

"You hurt me before," you whispered, looking up at him blankly. "I don't care."

Billy's face didn't change. You wished he would stop looking at you like that, like he'd stumbled on treasure in the desert. His mouth was flattened, like a ridge. Where tension had dissolved before, now it was stretched taut, ready to snap. Biting the side of your cheek, you fought the tears that threatened to make an appearance, but it was like trying to hold a bursting closet door shut.

When his hand found your face, you closed your eyes, humiliated as a tear slipped through the cracks, your facade crumbling. His course thumb caught it, and you lifted your lids, eyes hardening.

"Talk to me," he breathed, searching your eyes. You froze as two more tears slipped from your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks. The truth was at the tip of your tongue, but you kept your mouth shut. If he knew, it could ruin everything.

"I'm fine," you managed, but he held firm, shaking his head. "Billy," you started, voice firm as it could be. "Just go. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter-"

"You left me!" Taking a step back, you stared up at him, no longer caring if you cried. "You left me twice without ever saying a word and this time you left me-" Stopping short, your eyes widened slightly as you realized what you'd almost said.

"What?" Billy closed the gap between you, searching your eyes and grasping your shoulders, his touch causing you to stiffen. You hated that you wanted it, wanted him to pull you into his arms and tell you everything was okay. "I know somethin' happened, what-?"

You sniffled, smoothing a nervous hand over your midsection without thinking. His gaze dropped, and he froze. As soon as you realized what you'd done, you tried to step away but he held you firm, eyes never straying.

"You're-" Billy swallowed, growing pale at the notion. "Sweetheart, you're-"

Now your vision was blurry, hot tears springing and falling without your permission. You folded your arms over yourself, feeling your hands start to shake. Billy's hands flew to your cheeks, tilting your face up so you were looking at him, into those deep blue eyes that had gotten you into this mess to begin with. In the softest voice you could imagine, he asked, "Is it mine?" Sniffling once, you nodded. Billy exhaled, one hand sliding to your crown and pulling you into his chest. You didn't fight him.

Being back in his arms was a daydream you'd let yourself indulge in only a few times. But no amount of imagining compared to the real thing. He engulfed you, pulling you in like you'd been lost at sea,

Sinking into him, you could feel yourself breaking. This is what you had craved ever since you'd found out, the itch only he could scratch. When he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you closed your eyes. "I needed you."

"I know." His voice was unsteady, nearly breaking as he tightened his arms around you. "I know. I'm so sorry, sweetheart." You hid your face in his chest and he smoothed your hair, voice sounding frantic. "I shouldn't've left..."

"I needed you," you repeated desperately, and you swore you felt a tear fall into your hair.

"'m sorry." The emotion in his voice had you grasping at his shirt, trembling as he lowered you both to the ground. He started to rock back and forth, rubbing a hand up and down your back. "I left you alone, I left you-" he cut himself off, burying his face in your hair. Tentatively, you lifted a hand, sinking into his dark curls. The familiarity prompted another tear or two out of you.

When you noticed it'd grown dark, you pulled yourself away, wiping your eyes and risking a look at him. He was solemn, eyes roving over you. It was a look you recognized. Checking, making sure everything was okay. You brushed away another tear, whispering, "It's okay."

"It's not." Billy reached for your hand, eyes soft.

"I've been fine without you, Billy," you snapped, pulling away before his fingers could brush yours. "You don't have to do anything for me."

"I'm not just gonna leave-"

"You had no problem doing it before," you cut him off, reaching up and gripping the porch railing to get to your feet. The sting of humiliation was already coursing through you, and your instinct was to run. "Just go. I'm fine."

Without another look, you strode into the house, making a beeline for your room and shutting the door. Not one set of footsteps, Billy's or your brother's, dared follow you.

Lifting a hand to your face, you slid against the door, body shaking again with tears.

"Outta the way!"

You nearly dropped the plate in your hands, watching your brother stumble into the room with a limp, staggering Billy supported by his shoulder. Blood soaked the blue of his shirt, and your heart gave a pang. Feeling faint, you watched in a daze as he propped him up on the kitchen table, speaking lowly. James looked up, silently shooing you from the room. Turning on your heel, you fled and shut the door behind you, heart pounding in your ears.

Billy's presence on the ranch had been nearly constant since he found out that night, acting as a shadow toward you. Your brother, ever kindhearted, had hired him on, insisting he give work to his oldest friend. You'd protested but stopped once he started to question why it bothered you so much. Catching yourself, you realized James was bound to find out sooner or later. If you kept arguing, it would be sooner.

To Billy's credit, he kept his mouth shut about the paternity of your child. But that didn't mean he kept to himself. It seemed that every second he had away from work he spent at your side, pestering and fussing over you, constantly asking if you were okay, if you needed anything and maybe you should sit down because he didn't want you to get too tired. It was overbearing, and you fought him at every turn.

"Darlin'-" he'd protest, trying to guide you to a chair. "You gotta rest, alright? For you 'n the baby. Please?" Sometimes you would sit down begrudgingly, his pleading blue eyes persuading you into his way. Others, you would push away his hands, some sharp-tongued comment leaving your mouth as you stormed away to be anywhere but near him. Your emotions were running wild, a something you attributed to the new life growing inside you. Although, the circumstances surrounding the arrival of the baby's father couldn't have helped.

Still, he persisted. It was impressive, really. The way he kept at it, never once giving up. Whenever you burst out and told him to leave you alone, he just stood there, letting you take it out on him. It always ended in tears.

You cried more now than you ever had before, in private most often. Really, your head was all muddled from everything happening all at once. Billy was trying to flow seamlessly back into your life, but you wouldn't let him. He didn't deserve to get back in so easily this time.

But now as you paced the length of the living room, anxiety squeezing your heart and hammering at your ribs, the only thing in your heart was regret. A fierce sickness that clouded your senses and brought tears to your eyes. What if he died? What if the father of your child died and you could have forgiven him and you didn't? He'd hurt you, there was no doubt about it. But he cared. He'd proved it a million times since he found out, putting down roots just in case you decided you wanted him.

Here, as you shuddered and shook over the idea of losing him, you knew it was more than that.

"Hey-" At the sound of your brother's voice, your head snapped up. James looked harried, clenching his jaw as he ran a hand over his hair. "He's askin' for you. I can't do anything 'nless he sits still-"

"I'm coming." Your feet were moving before you knew it, and you stepped past James into the kitchen, heading straight for Billy.

The moment he saw you, he reached out, motions almost drunken. "Baby..." he slurred, catching your hand. "So...so pretty. Prettiest girl in the west..."

"Billy what happened?" you asked, squeezing his hand, brow scrunched. You were trying to ignore the blood on his shirt, the red growing deeper by the second. James was fetching something in the other room, bandages most likely.

"Shoot...shootout, darlin'..." he managed, grinning up at you and wincing when he shifted. The pain must be making him woozy. "Don' worry 'bout me..."

"Why were you in a shootout?" you asked, horrified. Holding his hand close to your heart, you whispered, "You weren't on the ranch."

"Tryna make a lil' extra, honey." Billy reached out with his other hand, cupping your face. "F' the baby. 'n you." He pulled your fingers down to his lips. "Wanna marry you, pretty. Do it right..." Wincing, he tried to continue. "Didn't do right by ya the first time...wanna make it better..."

James interrupted, arriving with a messy pile of medical supplies in his arms. "Give him some laudanum." He shoved the bottle and a spoon into your hands, not seeming to notice the look on your face leftover from what Billy said. Almost stiffened by shock, you measured the amount and fed it to him, praying it would kick in sooner rather than later.

"Good. Help me get his shirt off." James nodded at Billy. In your condition, your brother wouldn't dare have you help with something like this unless it were dire.

With shaky hands, you got to work, ignoring the way Billy was blatantly watching you, as if you were a saint in a storm. You didn't grimace when his blood stained your hands, peeling the shirt away from his chest and working his arm out one side while James did the other. He tossed it to the side, tearing his eyes away from Billy. "You're gonna talk to 'im okay? Distract him cause I dunno when the medicine'll kick in."

"Okay," you whispered, still staring into Billy's eyes. They were clouded over, his head lulling. When James started to dab at the affected area, Billy gritted his teeth, grunting and reaching for your hand on his uninjured side.

You remembered your job, squeezing his hand. "I..." Panic was seizing you, holding your tongue. James gave you a look, and you were kicked into action. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna get you fixed up, alright?" Tears pricked at your eyes. "Billy, you've gotta hang on, alright? I...we need you. Both of us." You weren't talking about you and James.

Billy's eyes went soft, and he held fast to your hand, looking up at you like a puppy. You wouldn't be surprised if he melted off the table, a snowdrift in the sun. James was hard at work, and you avoided looking. You never wanted to see this much of Billy's blood again.

A thousand questions poked at your tongue, things you wanted to ask your brother, ask the father of your child, but you held back. Later you'd interrogate them all you wanted, but for now Billy's safety was at stake.

"Need to sit him up," James finally said, sliding his arm under Billy's shoulders. "Here- get on the table and keep 'im steady." You scooted up, feeling numb as you went through the motions. Billy looked dazed, but he was still as you tucked your shoulder under his arm, back against his side. His fingers splayed out, seemingly searching for something, and you gave him your hand.

James wrapped the bandage around Billy's middle, and you shifted your body as needed, still pressed to him. It was precautionary; he wasn't nearly out of it enough that he'd have trouble staying upright. But you found yourself wanting to stay, your mind telling you that if you left for even a second, he'd collapse and never wake up.

"Alright." James stood up, nudging his chair back. "He's gonna be fine. Was just a graze, so we'll check it every little bit."

Your eyes were on the ground, Billy's hand in yours the only thing you were aware of. The pounding of your heart slowed when it was confirmed that he would be okay, but you still wanted to cry. You almost lost him today, with every unsaid thing still poking at your backs.

James managed to guide him out of the kitchen, depositing him in his own bedroom for now. You trailed in behind them, unable to tear your eyes away from Billy, shirtless and bandaged, his eyes fluttering shut as the lingering opium in his system lured sleep to him. He's safe. He's safe, you repeated to yourself. He's safe.

Turning to James, you hissed, "What the hell were you doing that ended in a gunfight?"

Swallowing, your brother shifted on his feet. "Was a job. We've done 'em before 'n everything was fine but this time..." he winced. "'nother gang showed up and they wouldn't back off. We're lucky he wasn't hurt worse."

You stood shocked, eyes wide. "A job-"

"Before you say anythin'-" James held up his hands. "Billy was stubborn 'bout it. He wanted...well..." His eyes fell to your midsection, which became more swollen by the day. "He's been lookin' for ways to make more money for you 'n..."

Your heart sank. He knew. Turning to look at the man sleeping on the bed, you felt another wave of emotion crash over you.

"He cares a lot about you," James said quietly. "He woulda done it without my help, but it's a good thing he didn't."

Silent, you fought back tears, regret welling up like a river after the first snowfall. All this time while you'd been pushing him away and insisting you didn't need him, he'd been working for you. For your future, and for the baby. You knew all too well that any other man would have run for the hills and left you with "your" problem, but not Billy.

You'd been taking him for granted. And it had almost killed him.

Looking back at your brother, you whispered, "I can watch him for awhile. You go clean up. You can use my room if you need some rest." The sun was still high in the sky, but James looked exhausted. He merely nodded, meandering away after a final glance at Billy.

James' footsteps thumped away, and you sank into a chair close to Billy, watching the rise and fall of his chest like his life depended on it.

Sliding a hand over your belly, you found yourself trying not to cry again. For months you'd had yourself convinced that you didn't need him, that you could do this on your own. Have the baby and do the best you could, all the while nursing an ache that you refused to admit was there.

A tear bubbled up, spilling from your eye, and you sniffled, looking down and swiping at it. It proved to be pointless when more sprouted, flowing down your cheeks faster than you could get rid of them. You took in a sharp breath, letting your hand drop to your lap as you cried silently, the tightness in your chest nearly suffocating.

You nearly jumped when you felt a hand on your knee, palm warm as it rested there. When you looked up at Billy, his eyes were open, brow scrunched in concern. You tried to clear your tears with your hand again, but he squeezed your thigh.

"Sweetheart..." his voice was sleepy. "What's wrong?"

"Go back to sleep, Billy," you tried, blinking rapidly, sniffling and setting your other hand on his. "You need to rest."

"Been tellin' you the same thing for weeks," he mumbled, shifting to the side and lifting his hand from your leg, effectively opening his arm. "C'mere." When you only stared at him, the corners of his lips turned up just slightly. "'s okay. We both need it."

All resolve gone, you found yourself obliging, crawling into bed with him on his uninjured side and letting him guide your head to his shoulder, body relaxing once it was against his. As you settled into him, his hand found its way around your waist, the tips of his fingers on your swollen tummy. It felt like a missing piece of you sliding into place.

"I'm sorry." The words fell out of your mouth, and Billy hummed, rubbing your side.

You couldn't see his face, but you knew the furrow in his brows hadn't unfolded. "What for?"

Everything. There were a million things you wanted to say, but they all fell short when you lifted your head to look up at him. Earnest blue eyes, hitched to you like you were the one thing keeping him from floating into the stars. Swallowing, you whispered, "You got hurt...because of me..."

"No." Billy's hand pressed at your side until you laid back down. "No, that wasn't your fault. Was a stupid thing to do."

"You were doing it for me..." you whispered, more tears blurring your vision. "And I haven't been kind to you since you came back."

"Hey-" Billy grunted as he sat up a little, bringing you with him. Leaning against the headboard, his fingers drew a soothing vertical pattern at your waist. He searched your eyes, shaking his head. "I shouldn't've left. It's the worst thing I ever did. Leavin' you alone after what we did..." he exhaled deeply, mouth flattened. "It was bad enough I did it the first time."

"But you had a reason...'n I shouldn't have been so mad..." you whispered.

He thumbed the side of your face, eyes tender. "I thought I was protecting you." His shoulders slumped. "But all I did was hurt you."

"It's okay," you breathed, holding his wrist. There was no bitterness or loathing or grudges behind it. Everything that had happened was in the past. He was here now.

"It's not," Billy mumbled, but his expression lightened. You knew your anger at him must have taken a toll, and it must have been a relief not to have it burning him anymore. He brought his hand to the back of your head, stroking your hair with his thumb. "You know I've loved you all this time? Think there's somethin' wrong with me. Like I'm cursed. Bad things happen to the ones I love and it's usually my fault."

"No, bad things happen to everyone," you corrected, heart aching. Swallowing, you softly said, "I've loved you too. All the while."

Billy paused, his eyes softening. The way he watched your expression like he was making sure it wasn't a trick broke your heart all over again. He'd been hurting just as much as you, and you'd been too caught up to notice.

You leaned forward, catching his lips in a soft kiss, careful not to lean on his injured side. He used his hand at your crown to hold you to him, mouth moving slow and steady and easy, the feeling of his mouth against yours nearly convincing you he never left. You may as well have been eighteen again, fresh in love and invincible.

Pulling back, Billy brushed a kiss to your nose, than your forehead, and you closed your eyes. His hand found your tummy again, hold protective. "I love you. You and the baby."

"I love you," you whispered, meaning every syllable. Billy relaxed back into the bed, pulling you down with him and grinning when your belly poked him in the side. You nuzzled your head into his shoulder, eyes falling shut. "I've wanted you with me but I didn't know how to say it..."

"I wanted you too." Billy smoothed your hair, kissing your head. "I wanted to be here for you."

"You have been. Over and over," you promised, hand rubbing his chest. His skin was warm, and you felt sleepy just lying against it. "Over...and over..."

As you drifted off into dreamland, a part of you panicked, remembering the last time you'd fallen asleep next to him. A voice told you to keep your eyes open, to make sure he wouldn't run.

But when he pulled you in impossibly closer, laying another kiss to your head and sleepily mumbling that he loved you, the voice disappeared. You shifted comfortably, knowing when you woke up, he would still be here.

He would stay.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid imagine #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid fic #billy the kid fluff #billy the kid tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth characters #tom blyth fanfiction #billy bonney #billy bonney x reader #milliesfishes billy

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shurisgf · 8 months ago

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WHERE WERE YOU IN THE MORNING? — A. ARETAS ✩

🎧 for an enhanced experience , listen to Where Were You in the Morning — Shawn Mendes

9:00 AM

The warm sunlight filled the bedroom as your eyes fluttered open, your head still lying on Armando’s chest. His arms were wrapped around your torso as one of his hands rubbed your back gently, providing you comfort. You moved your head slightly, trying not to wake up your sleepy boyfriend, and placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone. You hummed softly, snuggling your head back into the place it originally was. You loved spending mornings together at your place, the two of you hardly got to wake up together anymore because of Armando’s busy schedule now that he was working alongside his dad. So you cherished every moment like this. He began to stir out of his sleep, and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Buenos días, mamá.” He mumbled in that sleepy voice of his, letting you know that he was awake. “Good morning baby, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You lovingly caressed his chest in an attempt to coax him back to sleep. He hummed quietly, still rubbing your back with his hands. The two of you stayed like this for a while, enjoying the quiet hum of the ac, the birds outside, the pure peace of it all. The two of you weren’t really morning people, so you appreciated the silence. Being in his arms was your favorite place, it made you feel content in knowing that he was yours, and you were his. “¿Cómo has dormido?” His drowsy voice filled the silent room, “The best I’ve slept in a while, actually.” He chuckled quietly, “And why’s that?” He hummed, “Because I got to sleep with you.” You smiled to yourself, getting up from the position you were lying in and moving to sit on top of him so you were now looking down at him, resting your hands on his chest. His hands paused, waiting for you to get comfortable, then placing them on your ass, rubbing it slowly. “I’m gonna go shower.” You mumbled and placed a soft peck to his lips before getting off of him and walking towards the bathroom. “Such a tease,” he mumbled staring at you as you left the room, causing a light chuckle to escape your lips.

GLOSSARY !

Buenos días, mamá. — Good morning, mama.

¿Cómo has dormido? — How’d you sleep?

TAGLIST; @ghettogirly

reblogs are greatly appreciated !

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ she was a 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎 #armando aretas x reader #armando armas x reader #armando x reader #armando aretas #armando armas #jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life

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kochslut · 4 months ago

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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₊˚⊹♡

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