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jamielea81 · 22 days
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I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Acknowledge your readers’ feedback. As a reader myself, if I like, comment, AND reblog your fic, maybe throw out a squeal, a heart, or a thank you.
Just sayin’.
Edit to add: obviously if you have 100+ comments that can be difficult to do, but show some effort.
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jamielea81 · 25 days
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Now That We Don’t Talk - Part 1
Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.
Jensen x You
Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift
Masterlist
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You
You sat the last box down in your living room with a grunt. You’d been lugging boxes into your new apartment all day, and you were exhausted. You let your tired body fall back onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. 
You looked around the room filled with cardboard and the few pieces of furniture you had. You could feel the tears threatening to fill your eyes, and bit your lip to stop them. You pulled out your phone, tapping the name of the only person you could think to call at that moment. 
“Hi, baby, how are you doing?” your mom answered on the second ring.
You sighed. “I’ve been better,” you replied, rubbing a hand down your face.
“This really is for the best, you know?” she said, and you could almost picture the sympathetic look she’d have on her face. 
“Is it? Cause right now it feels just…horrible.”
“Yes, Y/N, it is. He changed, and you are not the only one who noticed.”
You sighed again. “Thanks, Momma. I better get unpacking. Love you.”
“Love you too, Bug. Pour yourself a glass of wine and just try to relax.”
You smiled as you hung up. Your mom truly was your best friend. You’d called her right after you broke up with Jensen and she’d talked you through it the best she could from nearly a thousand miles away. 
After you’d moved to Austin to be with Jensen, you saw your mom a lot less than you’d liked. It was tempting to move back home after the breakup, but you had a job that you really loved, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave it. 
You had friends nearby, too. The only problem was that Jensen was the one who introduced you to them, which made you feel a little uncomfortable. Gen had already reached out to you. She’d left a message wanting to get together to hang out. You hadn’t responded yet. You just weren’t sure if you could handle the inevitable conversation she’d want to have about the breakup.
You pulled out your corkscrew and a wine glass from your box labeled “kitchen” and opened the bottle of white wine you’d gotten on your quick grocery trip earlier in the day. As you took your first sip, you sat down again and let your mind wander to the beginnings of your relationship with Jensen. 
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Two Years Earlier - You
It had been by chance that you’d met the green-eyed actor at a coffee shop in your small town of Salida, Colorado. He’d been on his way home from a fan convention in Denver and had taken a wrong turn. He’d wanted to make the long drive alone to clear his head, and you’d learn later how stubborn he was about using the GPS on his phone. 
He’d come into the coffee shop you frequented to get some caffeine and directions. You’d recognized him, of course, since you were a fan of Supernatural. You’d always kept up with the show, but you weren’t a big enough fan to have gone to the convention. 
“Excuse me, miss,” you heard, looking up from your laptop in surprise. Though you’d noticed him enter the shop immediately, you’d never expected him to talk to you. 
“I’m on my way back to Texas, and I think I’m a little lost. I don’t have any service on my phone, but I’m using the Wi-Fi here to look at Google Maps.”
You nodded, listening to his explanation while still wondering why he was talking to you of all people. 
“Can you take a look and tell me if this is a good route back to I-25?” he asked, giving you a dazzling smile. You returned it, and took his phone. 
“Sure,” you said, looking at the route his phone was going to take him. It looked fine, which only added to your confusion at the question he was asking you. Surely the app could tell Jensen what the fastest or easiest route was.
“That is a good option,” you said, handing him his phone back. “And when you go through Trinidad, there’s a great little barbecue place off Main Street you should check out. Awesome pulled pork and even better cheese fries.”
He nodded, his eyes surprised. “Thanks—“ he paused, stretching out his hand in an invitation to shake yours.
“Y/N,” you responded, placing your hand in his calloused one.
“Y/N,” he repeated. “I’m Jensen.” 
“I know,” you said with a smirk. He let out a chuckle and stood there for another moment, as if deciding something. 
“Would it be weird if I asked to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked finally.
“Hmm, I have coffee,” you replied, glancing at the paper cup in front of you. He seemed to deflate a little, and you quickly continued. “But I would love a scone.”
He smiled again, giving you a wink as he headed to the counter. After he bought your scone and his own coffee, he returned to your table where he asked if he could join you.
You made small talk for a little bit. You told him you liked his show; he asked you about your life in Salida; you joked easily with each other. Before you knew it, a couple of hours had gone by. 
“Well, I really should get going. I have a long drive ahead of me,” Jensen said, leaning back in his chair. 
“Yeah, good idea,” you responded. You had really enjoyed your talk with him, even if it was just a random moment in your life and you never saw him again.
“Do you think I could see you again?” he asked, looking a little nervous. It was very cute, especially since he was a famous actor. 
“Might be a little tough, what with living a thousand miles apart,” you said with a smirk. You saw his shoulders sink a little. “How about I give you my number. If you ever want to talk, I’ll answer.”
“Hmm,” he said, nodding. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.” 
You smiled coyly and put your number in his phone. “It was great to meet you, Jensen. I hope we meet again.”
“Oh, I think we will, Y/N,” he said confidently. You shook your head with a smile as he backed away from the table and out the door.  I will never hear from him again, you thought as you watched him get into his car that was parked on the street. Little did you know, one day later he would prove you wrong.
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Forevers:
@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2
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jamielea81 · 28 days
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Please Don't Leave
Summary: Friends to lovers to friends, that can work, right? 
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, fluff, Jensen in his thicc Soldier Boy era (that’s a warning in itself!)
W/C: 4.3k
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki. Small Parts/Mentioned: Karl Urban, Jack Quaid, Gen Padalecki.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
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READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3
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jamielea81 · 30 days
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I’m one of the oldies on this app and I think I’ve finally gotten to the stage where I don’t know who celebrities are anymore. So many fanfics are showing up on my feed and I’m like clueless as to who these men are. 😭😂
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jamielea81 · 1 month
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Just Say You Love Me
Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating. 
W/C: 4,901.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills. 
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”
A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.
It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself. 
So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks? 
Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings. 
“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers. 
“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?” 
“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?” 
“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”
“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.
“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”
He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”
“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?” 
“What? No!”
Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”
“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.” 
“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”
Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”
“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.
Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.
Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it. 
“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.
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The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”
You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.
That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.
The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.
It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry. 
The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!” 
You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.
Asshole. How dare he judge you! 
“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares. 
You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”
Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.
“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.” 
You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.
“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy. 
Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”
“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation. 
“That’s the one.” 
“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”
You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her. 
“Thank you, Miss…” 
“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom. 
You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.” 
If only she knew. 
You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder. 
“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.” 
You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you. 
Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.
“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean. 
“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.  
“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?” 
He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”
“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.
His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.
You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?” 
“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.” 
“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.
The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them. 
“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”
“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”
“Probably, but that's his problem.”
Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.
“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.
That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”
“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”
You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with. 
“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?” 
“Girls versus boys?”
“Obviously.”
He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back. 
He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.” 
He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks. 
Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly. 
“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.
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The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.
You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer. 
You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.
“For what?” he asks. 
“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”
“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.” 
“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”
“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.” 
He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home. 
Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away. 
“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.
“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.” 
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.
“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking. 
He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.” 
“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.
He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.
The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared. 
Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.” 
“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”
He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.
He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure. 
He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?” 
“Only if you say yes?”
“Pick me up at ten.”
He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.
You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle. 
“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.
Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.
“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once. 
“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”
“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown. 
“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”
“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”
You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you. 
“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”
“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.” 
“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.” 
“We were going to get married.”
You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.
“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”
Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.
Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”
Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.
“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”
Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”
“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.
Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.
Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.
“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”
Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”
“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.” 
“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”
“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”
You grimace, “I’m sorry.”
He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.” 
He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”
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You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice. 
The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”
Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.
‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago. 
A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand. 
Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.
Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.
He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.
He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?
But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.
“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”
He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time. 
“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room. 
“I did it already,” he calls after you. 
“I’ll put it in the dryer then.” 
He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.
“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.” 
You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress. 
“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile. 
“Say what?” 
He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”
“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….” 
“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”
You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.” 
He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.” 
You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.” 
“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him. 
“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”
“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”
“I get why you’re…”
The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.
He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.
The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself. 
He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.
At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.” 
You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.
Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.
He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”
The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass. 
“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”
You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.
You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”
Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity. 
“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.” 
“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.” 
He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”
You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”
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jamielea81 · 1 month
Text
This was so cute! I love a clueless dummies in love fic.
An Innocent Game | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
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Request: requested by @kati-1997. Asked for best friends to lovers, everybody sees that they like each other but he admits it after someone flirts with the reader, the crew and Penny bet that they get together.
Word Count: 5949 words
Summary: Jake and the reader are best friends, however, the Dagger Squad and Penny can see they both want to be more than that. What started off as a bet of when the two will get together turns into a different game that leads to trouble.
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, angst, cursing (I think, I can't remember for sure, kissing.
It started as a game. An innocent little game for the entire Dagger Squad to play, minus Maverick who was trying to be the responsible one out of the group. But honestly, the oldest member couldn’t blame the group for what they started. They had to do something to deal with Fightertown's most clueless couple.
What started as placing bets for when the two of you finally got together turned into a drinking game.
Take a drink when one of you calls the other a nickname or says something flirty.
Take two drinks if one of you kisses the other on the cheek, forehead, or head.
Take a shot when Hangman tries to show you how to properly play pool.
Take two shots if you hold hands.
Finish your drink if you guys end up dancing together.
Needless to say, the members of the Dagger Squad are more on track for liver failure rather than winning any money.
“I’m never playing that game ever again,” Rooster groaned out to the group the next morning, slumped down in his chair with his aviators placed over his closed eyes.
“Yeah, right. We all know we’ll be doing the same thing when we go out again,” Phoenix argued with him, her state being the same, except she’s leaned forward in her seat, head down and buried in her arms.
“I’ve never drunk so much in my entire life,” Bob groaned out from next to her, sunglasses placed on his nose instead of his usual spectacles for seeing properly.
“I think I’m still drunk,” Fanboy stated, Payback humming in agreement from his seat next to him.
“I’m honestly surprised Penny served us as much as she did last night,” Coyote spoke up.
“It’s because Penny understands the pain we are going through right now with watching the two of them together. I’m starting to seriously think we need to step in and do something about it. I don’t know if my liver can take another night like this,” Rooster told the group.
“What do you expect us to do, Rooster? It’s not like we can just come out and say-,” Coyote was cut off by Pheonix shushing him at the sound of whistling.
Jake Hangman Seresin immediately stopped in his tracks when he took in the sight of his fellow aviators. He couldn’t help but laugh at the hungover group as he slowly walked further into the room, grinning around his toothpick.
“Well, it looks like some people had a fun night,” He said with a chuckle, taking his usual seat at the front of the room.
“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Fanboy muttered, causing Payback to send an elbow into his side.
Hangman showed no sign of hearing his muttered phrase and pulled his phone out to reply to a text sent by you.
Darling: Phoenix hasn’t replied to me this morning. Should I be worried?
His smile widened across his face as he replied to you.
Cowboy: Don’t you worry, darling. It looks to me like she and the rest of the group had a long night last night.
Jake discreetly took a picture of the group sitting behind him with their glasses on and sent it to you. Jake then locked his phone back up and placed it into his pocket before turning to look back at everybody.
“Are any of you going to be up to standards today,” He asked curiously.
“We’ll be fine Hangman, don’t you worry about us,” Coyote told his best friend.
“I just hope Maverick won’t be too hard on us today. I think I might puke if we do any crazy maneuvers,” Bob groaned.
“That’s the price to pay for underage drinking Baby on Board,” Jake said smugly from the front of the room.
“You’re such an ass,” Bob whispered, and everybody was too hungover to comment on the unexpected cursing from the WSO.
Everybody remained silent as they heard the door to their room swing open. Maverick quietly stepped into the room and slowly walked to the front, taking in the state of his team. He shook his head in amusement and cursed his girlfriend for serving them as much as she did. He dropped his clipboard on the podium in the front with a bang, causing all of the aviators, minus the cause of the problem, to let out groans of pain.
“Please never do that again,” Rooster groaned out to his godfather.
“Good morning to you too,” Maverick said with amusement in his voice. “Judging by the look of everybody in this room, practicing flight maneuvers is out of the question and is going to have to be moved to a different day.”
A resounding groaned cheer of numerous “thank gods” and “yes, pleases” rang out from the group, causing Hangman to scoff at the group and shake his head.
“That being said, you guys still aren’t off the hook. I want you all down at the beach behind the Hard Deck and ready for dogfight football within the hour,” Maverick ordered the group, causing them to still groan out in disagreement.
“I’d honestly much rather fly a plane than constantly be tackled to the ground,” Rooster argued.
“That’s the point. I don’t want to hear complaints from the maintenance team about having to hose vomit out from your cockpits, but I can’t let you all off the hook. You’re punishment for drinking so much the night before work is dogfight football. See you all in an hour,” Maverick smirked, leaving the room and the aviators to pull themselves from their seats.
-----
“They look like they’re struggling more than usual,” I commented about the sluggish group of aviators on the beach in front of me.
Penny hummed in acknowledgment and amusement before speaking. “All of them but your best friend.”
I followed her gaze to said aviator and blushed when I saw him, tanned skin glistening in the sun, muscles on show for anyone and everyone to see. I sighed wistfully at him as I continued admiring him, knowing full well Penny was also doing so with Maverick.
“They’re all hungover,” Penny reminded me with a smirk, going back to her work sitting in front of her.
“How are they so hungover? Did they keep drinking after Jake gave me a ride home,” I questioned her in disbelief.
“No, they stopped drinking when you left. You just didn’t realize how much they were drinking while you were here,” She explained. “Probably because you were so focused on a certain Lieutenant Seresin.” 
I removed my gaze from the group and glared over at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mhm, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” Penny nodded at me in amusement.
I rolled my eyes at her and looked back at the group to watch Jake do a double take towards our table. I grinned at him and raised my hand in a wave, seeing a wide grin also take over his face and wave back. After his actions, I watched as all of the aviators slowly looked over and had mixed reactions to my presence. Some groaned in what looked like exhaustion while some waved at me with a small smile.
“How long have they been at this,” I questioned Penny curiously.
“A little over an hour. Pete said it was punishment for getting so drunk when they knew they had work the next morning,” Penny told me with a proud grin at the thought of her boyfriend.
“He would punish them for having fun,” I poked at her, causing her to frown at me and kick me under the table. “I was joking. So, what do you think, maybe a little hair of the dog will help them get through it?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Penny argued with me, seeming to know something I don’t know.
“It’ll be fine, Pen,” I argued with her, pulling the back door of the Hard Deck open and making my way to behind the bar.
I began gathering beers together and placing them on top of the bar. I looked around across the bartop to see no bottle opener in sight. I sighed in frustration and began moving jars of garnishes to the side to locate the opener. When unsuccessful, I groaned and squatted down to locate the opener on one of the shelves underneath the bar and let out a small cheer when I saw one behind a glass jar. I pulled the jar out and reached for the opener, placing it up on the bartop. I went to place the jar back when I noticed a heart drawn on it. I furrowed my brows and held it farther away from my face to properly examine it.
I opened the container and looked inside to see rolls of cash shoved inside of it. 
“What the hell,” I murmured to myself in confusion.
I gripped the jar in my hand and walked towards the back door of the bar, pushing it open with my hip and walking towards the bartender.
“Penny, what the hell is a jar with a heart drawn on it stuffed full of cash doing underneath your bar,” I questioned her in confusion.
I could see the woman freeze briefly and some color drain from her face before she looked up at me wide-eyed. I stared at her expectantly and placed the jar on the table in front of her, watching her glance between the jar and myself a few times before speaking.
“It’s…,” She trailed off, causing me to raise my brows at her. “It’s some money I’ve been saving up for a trip for Pete and me. I’ve been hiding it underneath the bar so he doesn’t see it.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. Well, I would love to contribute some, if that’s okay,” I started reaching for my purse, causing her to stop me and grab the jar from the table.
“No, that’s okay. That’s not necessary at all,” She shrugged.
“Are you sure,” I questioned her again.
“Positive,” She nodded at me tightly before looking back at the door. “Weren’t you getting drinks for everybody?”
My eyes widened at the reminder and walked back inside to grab the beers I had planned on acquiring previously. After opening all of them I gripped them in my arms and hands and began walking them out to the beach where the aviators continued their game.
“I heard that some of you could use a bit of help in your day,” I called out, gaining their attention.
I heard some sighs of relief and resounding “thank yous” as they all made their way towards me and began taking the beers off of my hands. Jake was the last one to greet me and the grin on his face caused mine to widen as well. He took the beer from my outstretched hand before gripping it and pulling me towards him.
“Thank you, darling,” he told me, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of my head.
“You’re welcome, hotshot,” I grinned at him.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as the rest of the group all shared looks before taking four long drinks of their beer in unison.
“Don’t overdo it again guys,” Maverick scolded them, taking a drink of his beer as well before sighing. “We can be done for the day. Get some rest and be ready for work on Monday.”
“Yes, sir,” Rang out around me as everybody sighed in relief at being done for the day.
I giggled at all of them in amusement as I moved closer to Jake and wrapped my arms around his waist. “How are all of you so hungover? Penny told me you stopped drinking after we left last night.”
Everybody stayed quiet at my question and continued drinking their beer, causing me to shrug and hug myself closer to Jake.
“Honey, I’m all sweaty and sandy, I’m sure you don’t want to be touching me right now,” Jake informed me with a grin, taking his sunglasses off and placing them on my face so I was no longer squinting up at him.
“I’m fine,” I reassured him, pressing my face into his chest and admiring his green eyes shining in the sunlight.
Everyone groaned simultaneously and took another long gulp of beer, causing me to squint at them in confusion.
“Is there something we’re missing here,” I questioned all of them curiously.
“Nope,” They all denied in unison.
“Uh-huh,” I nodded at them before looking back up at Jake. “Well, it’s Friday night, what are we doing tonight? Drinks at the Hard Deck again?”
“Sounds good to me. What about you guys,” Jake nodded at me before looking back at the rest of the Dagger Squad.
“Sounds great,” Rooster said after a moment of silence, everybody else hesitantly nodding in unison.
“Awesome. Well, I’m going to head home and get changed, let’s meet back here in an hour to an hour and a half,” I questioned the group, removing myself from Jake’s side and handing his sunglasses back to him.
Everybody nodded as Jake placed another kiss on my head. “Sounds good, darling. I’ll pick you up on my way again.”
I nodded at him in acknowledgment before beginning my trek off of the beach.
---------
“Here, darlin’, you’re holding it wrong, let me help you out,” Jake murmured in my ear, placing his hands over my own and leaning over me.
“I think I know how to do it properly after the many times you’ve shown me before, cowboy,” I giggled out to him, lifting my head to look into his bright green eyes.
“Well, it never hurts to have a refresher,” He replies to me, causing me to nod sheepishly and look back at the task at hand.
“Shots, everybody,” Rooster called out, causing everybody to nod at him reluctantly.
I looked up from the pool table to nod at him as well. “I’ll take one, Roo. Can you also get me another (Y/D)?”
“Sure,” He nodded at me with a tight smile before turning and going to the bar.
Jake led me in my shot once again before we both stood from the table and watched the balls move around. Once my turn was over the next person went and I handed my pool stick to the next person. Jake leaned down towards my ear and told me he was going to help Rooster with the drinks before placing a kiss on my temple. I nodded at him with a bright grin and moved to sit at one of the high-top tables surrounding the pool table. As I sat observing the game in front of me, a very drunk Phoenix came and placed her head on my shoulder, causing me to giggle at her in amusement.
“Can I help you,” I questioned her.
“I’m so drunk,” She informed me, staring at the pool table with a blank expression.
“We’ve only been here two hours,” I said in disbelief. She remained silent and only shrugged in response. “Stop drinking then.”
“I can’t. I would lose the game if I did that, and I can’t lose. I already lost my money, I can’t lose this too. This is your fault by the way,” She groaned out to me, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion.
“What the hell are you talking about,” I questioned her.
Coyote stepped forward at that moment and placed his hands on the female aviator's shoulders, moving her away from me and towards her WSO Bob.
“Ignore Phoenix. She’s just had a little too much to drink. You know how she can be sometimes,” Coyote told me, placing his hand on my shoulder
“Uh…,” I trailed off, looking past him at my female friend with confusion still written across my face.
“Here you go, (Y/N),” Rooster said, gaining my attention.
I looked over at him to see him holding my drink up to me with a grin. I smiled at him thankfully and accepted my drink before looking behind him.
“Where’s Jake?”
“Bringing the rest of the shots,” He told me before downing a couple of gulps of his beer in his hand.
I nodded in understanding before looking back at the pool table in front of me. After a few seconds of waiting for Jake, (Y/F/S) began playing from the jukebox, causing my grin to widen and begin searching for the green-eyed aviator and finding him making his way towards me with a smug grin. I smiled at him brightly and downed my shot before standing from my seat.
“You wanna dance,” Jake questioned me smugly, holding his hand out.
My smile widened and I shook my head at him in disbelief. “You do this every time we come here.”
“Nothing wrong with having a routine,” He shrugged at me before gripping my hand tightly and pulling me over to the jukebox.
I couldn’t help but laugh as he began twirling me around in the jukebox lights before pulling me closer to him. I placed my head on his chest as his hands moved to my waist. The two of us swayed comfortably back and forth for the duration of the song, occasionally catching the gazes of the rest of the Dagger Squad who were looking over at us periodically.
“I feel like something is going on with our friends that they’re not telling us,” I murmured to Jake, questioning if he heard me or not.
“What do you mean,” Jake questioned me curiously.
“They’re acting weird,” I pointed out.
“Because the way they normally act is considered normal,” Jake said in amusement, shaking his head at me.
“To me it is,” I said shyly, looking up at him.
Jake shook his head at me again with a grin before speaking. “Alright, what are they doing that has you so concerned?”
I looked up at him in disbelief this time and scoffed. “You’re telling me you seriously can’t see it? The occasional groans when the two of us do anything, the hesitation in agreeing to come out with us tonight, the heavy drinking in our presence, Phoenix telling me that her being drunk is my fault.”
Jake stood and thought before saying his piece. “I think our friends are just weird and annoying.”
I scoffed at him and grinned before shaking my head. “Sure, Seresin. Let’s go with that.”
“Look, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think it might just be me, okay? They have to spend all day with me at work and then the evening with me when we hang out. Being around the same people so much can cause some annoyance,” Jake tried to reassure me.
I sighed and shook my head before reluctantly agreeing. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. I’m always right,” He grinned down at me.
“That is not true,” I giggled at him before he twirled and dipped me.
(Y/F/S) came to an end and the two of us began making our way back towards the group. I walked to the table that I left my drink on and frowned when I saw my glass empty. I looked around the group to see a guilty-looking Phoenix avoiding eye contact. I laughed in amusement and shook my head at her before looking up at Jake.
“I’m going to get another drink. It looks like a drunk Phoenix beat me to this one,” I informed him, gesturing between the female aviator and my cup.
Jake laughed as well and looked back down at me. “I can get you another one, darling.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I reassured him, grabbing my glass to take to the bar for Penny. 
Jake threw his hands up in surrender and smirked at me as I rolled my eyes, reaching forward and gripping one of his hands to pull it back down to his side. Jake smiled at me in amusement and squeezed my hand briefly before letting it go, gently pushing me towards the bar. I looked back at him with a small smile before trekking over to Penny.
“Another one,” Penny questioned me in shock, looking at my empty glass.
“Yeah, I’m afraid Phoenix beat me to this one,” I said with a gentle laugh.
Penny shook her head before turning to make my drink. I chuckled in amusement and looked back at the group of aviators at the pool table. Jake looked up from his turn at the table to make eye contact with me. He winked at me before making his move, causing me to roll my eyes and move to turn back to the bar. However, I paused in my turn when I noticed a certain spectacled WSO making his way towards me at the bar.
“Hey, Bob. You doing okay,” I questioned him in concern.
Bob nodded at me with a bright grin, slightly swaying in his spot where he stopped next to me. “Yeah, I’m great.”
I nodded in agreement with him before looking over at Penny. “Hey, Pen? Water for the WSO, please.”
Penny nodded at me as Bob began to shake his head. “No, no. I don’t need any water. I’m fine.”
I nodded at his slurred words and laughed a little bit. “Bob, you’re a lightweight on your best day, I think some water would do you some good,” I told him, placing my hand on his shoulder.
Bob drunkenly stared up at me in a haze before he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re totally right. (Y/N), you’re the best. You just care about all of us so much,” He told me, taking my hand on his shoulder in his own and moving it onto the bartop.
“Well somebody has to, Bob, when none of your family is here,” I argued with him, laughing again when he gently laid his head on my shoulder.
“You’re right, again. You're always right, and you’re so smart,” He said softly, nodding his head on my shoulder and causing his glasses to go lopsided from the action.
Penny walked over to the two of us and set my drink and the water on the bartop, causing me to give her a thankful look. I released my hand from Bob’s grip and began pushing the water toward his now free hand.
“Thank you,” He murmured, lifting his head and placing a kiss on my cheek.
I lightly blushed at his actions and shook my head at him. “Don’t thank me until tomorrow morning when your hangover isn’t as bad as it could be.
Bob gave a small giggle and nodded at me in agreement before he began chugging the water. I nodded at him in encouragement and rubbed his shoulder.
--------
Jake watched his best friend walk away from him after gently nudging her in the direction of the bar. His smile was bright until his best friend Javy gained his attention.
“Hey, Hangman, you wanna join?”
Jake broke his gaze from the (Y/H/C) after he was sure she made it to the bar safely. “Yeah, sure.”
Coyote handed him a pool stick as Rooster and Payback racked the balls. He took continuous glances at his friend as he waited his turn, telling himself that he was just making sure she was safe.
“Hey, Hangman, how about you stop staring at your girlfriend and you pay attention to the game,” Natasha slurred from her spot next to Rooster.
Rooster nudged the female and gave her a small glare at her words, causing her to look up at him and shrug innocently.
“It’s not like that,” Jake argued with her.
“Oh, please. Do you honestly think we’re all stupid enough to believe that? There’s a reason we’re the best of the best,” Natasha argued back, rolling her eyes at him.
“I think that only applies to flying,” Fanboy spoke up while Coyote began scolding the woman.
“Natasha, knock it off,” Coyote said to her sternly, leaning back up from the pool table after taking his turn.
“Why? I’m just stating the obvious. You said it yourself, Jake’s in love with (Y/N) and she’s in love with him and neither of them wants to admit it,” She slurred out with a shrug.
“That’s not what’s going on. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake argued with her again.
“Mhm, yeah sure. You’re delusional then,” Phoenix finished off before shrugging and moving to sit with Fanboy at his table.
Jake continued to stare at the woman in deep thought until Coyote placed his hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Hey, man, just ignore her. You know how she can be. She’s just busting your balls,” Coyote told him.
“Yeah, no, yeah, I know. It’s just… Phoenix being Phoenix,” Jake agreed with him quietly before looking back at the game at hand.
“But on a brighter note, you gotta admit that (Y/N) is looking pretty damn good tonight,” Coyote commented, causing Jake to follow his gaze and a mesmerized smile to take over his face.
“Yeah, she does,” He breathed out, taking in the woman across the room.
Coyote looked between the two people and shook his head in amusement before landing a smack to his chest. “Your turn.”
Jake nodded at him and turned towards the pool table to take his turn. He looked up from where he was leaning over to take his turn to check on his best friend again. A smile overcame his face at the sight of her already looking over at him. Jake couldn’t help but send her a wink before making his move, causing her to roll her eyes in amusement and turn back to the bar. Jake stood back up from his position and watched the next person take their turn until Fanboy spoke up from where he was sitting with Phoenix.
“Where’d Bob go?”
All he could see was red. He looked away from his best friend long enough to take another turn at 9-ball, and when he looked back up Phoenix’s nerdy WSO was putting drunken moves on (Y/N).
He watched as Bob grabbed your hand from his shoulder as you talked and gripped it in his own. He watched as the man placed his head on your shoulder and you laughed at something he said. However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he placed a kiss on your cheek. Jake had never asked Coyote to hold his beer and pool stick as fast as he did at that moment. The drunk aviator fumbled to hold the items and dropped the pool stick with a clang as Jake began to take quick strides across the Hard Deck towards the two individuals at the bar. His strides became even quicker at the site of his best friend rubbing Bob’s shoulder as he chugged a glass of water.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing Baby on Board,” Jake questioned the WSO darkly.
Jake watched you turn to him with a look of utter confusion at his tone out of the corner of his eye but refused to take his eyes off the man standing in front of him. Bob slowly lowered the glass of water back down to the bar and wiped his mouth before looking over at his fellow aviator.
“Just drinking some water,” Bob informed him with a bright grin before picking the cup back up.
“Jake,” you whispered to him, trying to gain his attention.
Jake didn't remove his eyes from Bob and straightened up, taking a step between the two of you. Your confusion was furthered when he made this move, looming over Bob with a threatening demeanor.
“Jake, what the hell are you doing,” You questioned him, placing your hand on his arm and pulling him away from the clueless aviator.
Jake still refused to look away from Bob, causing you to move around the side of him and step between the two. Jake finally removed his gaze from Bob long enough to look down at you. You raised your eyebrows at him in question and watched his face soften. You sighed in slight annoyance and shook your head at him before turning around to look at Bob.
--------
“Hey, Bobby, how about you take your water and go join everybody else again, yeah,” I questioned him sweetly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Okay,” Bob nodded at me with a smile, turning around and making his way back toward the group.
I watched and waited until he was greeting everybody else before turning back around and looking at Jake.
“What the hell was that,” I questioned him, looking up at him in shock and disbelief.
“What do you mean “what the hell was that?” Baby on Board was clearly making a move on you,” Jake defended looking at me in disbelief as well.
“That's not what was happening. He's drunk Jake. He doesn't know what he's doing,” I argued.
“So that's supposed to make it okay,” Jake threw at me.
“No-,” I started, only to be cut off.
“What do you have the hots for Bob or something,” he added.
“What? No,” I denied quickly, only having a second to shake off my disbelief at his words.
“So it would be completely fine if Rooster were to come over and do the same thing,” He questioned me quickly.
“Wha- Jake,” I scoffed out, shaking my head at him.
“Or Coyote, or Pheonix. Maybe even Payback or Fanboy,” he began listing off, causing my frustration with him to grow.
“Jake, seriously,” I slightly whimpered.
“So it's fine for anybody to just come on over and flirt with you and touch you,” Jake snapped back.
“That's not- this isn't-,” I stuttered out, my increasing frustration with the situation making it difficult to properly form a sentence.
“Then what is it, (Y/N)? Tell me what this is. Make this make sense for me,” Jake snapped out at me.
I glared up at him and felt tears beginning to brim in my eyes when I finally snapped “You tell me, Jake. You're the one who made it into something.” 
Jake finally snapped his mouth shut and took a step back from me. He remained quiet but wouldn't remove his eyes from my own.
“What, you have nothing to say now? Because you had plenty a few seconds ago,” I scoffed.
Jake continued to remain silent, now avoiding eye contact. All I could bring myself to do was nod and reach over to grab my drink from the bartop.
“Okay, well… come find me when you finally come up with an excuse for acting like a jealous boyfriend,” I told him, beginning to walk away.
However, I stopped when I felt him place his hand on my elbow.
“What if it were me,” he asked me quietly, causing me to turn and face him with obvious confusion on my face.
“What?”
“What if it were me who was acting like that with you,” he repeated louder. I remained silent as I stared at him, and Jake spoke again at my silence. “What if I didn't just act like a jealous boyfriend and I was actually a jealous boyfriend? Or just a boyfriend in general?”
My confusion changed to shock at his question. I slowly moved back to my spot in front of him and placed my drink back on the bar. I looked down at his hand and watched as it slowly moved from my elbow and down my arm to intertwine with my hand.
“Then I would tell you there's no reason to be jealous because you're the only one I have eyes for,” I told him quietly, looking up from our hands to gaze into his eyes.
I could visibly see the tension turn into relief at my words. See his shoulders relax, his eyes soften slightly, his pinched lips release into a small smile. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something in response, but quickly shut it instead.
“You can kiss me now,” I said to him in encouragement.
“Oh, thank god,” Jake said in relief before releasing my hand to cup my face in both of his, placing his lips on my own.
I released a breath of relief myself at the feeling of his lips against my own, the feeling of his hands holding my face delicately, almost as if he were afraid that I would break. My hands raised to wrap around his wrists, gently gripping them in my own and rubbing my thumbs against the delicate skin. It was a gentle kiss that turned into one filled with passion. He released my lips briefly before moving in for one more. And then one more turned into two… three… until the sound of cheering echoed across the bar, causing the two of us to pull away and look towards the sound. A bright grin broke out across my face at the sight of the rest of the Dagger Squad looking over at us and cheering as if their home team just won a championship game. I began laughing in amusement at the group before looking up at Jake, seeing him have the same reaction as me before looking back down at me.
“I’m sorry to tell you this Darling, but I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to get rid of me,” Jake informed me with a faux smile of apology.
“That’s alright. I think I just might want to keep you around for a little while,” I smirked up at him before wrapping my hand around his neck to pull him into another breathtaking kiss.
---------
Meanwhile, the Dagger Squad watched their two friends with smiles on their faces and relief in their bodies at the thought of no longer having to watch the two of them dance around each other.
“It’s about time,” Coyote said, resulting in everybody letting out different noises and statements of agreement.
“So, wanna bet on when they’ll get engaged,” Rooster questioned, causing everyone to start shouting out dates and timespans.
However, this lasted for a short time due to Phoenix speaking up from her spot next to a still-drunk Bob.
“Wait, who won the original bet,” She questioned.
The group all looked around at each other curiously before looking over at the Hard Deck owner who appeared at their side with her glass jar in her hand.
“Bob won,” She stated simply.
“What,” Was the resounding answer in disbelief.
She nodded at them in amusement before answering. “He won by two weeks. Predicted it would happen by (Y/N)’s birthday.”
The group looked over at a now passed-out Bob, his head slumped down on the table and Phoenix running her hand over his head gently.
“Did he technically cheat,” Fanboy questioned his friends, pointing over at Bob.
“There’s no way he was smart enough to do that when he’s that drunk. I think it was just a lucky break,” Payback argued with him, causing Rooster and Coyote to nod in agreement with the frontseater. 
Penny made her way over to the WSO and gently shook him, causing him to raise his head from the table in a haze, looking over at the bartender in confusion.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” She smirked at him, leaving the jar in front of him before walking off back to the bar.
Bob looked down at the jar in confusion before looking at all of the aviators in front of him who were looking at him in disbelief.
“Did I win?”
501 notes · View notes
jamielea81 · 1 month
Text
The Right Guy On Paper
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Summary: Dean receives unexpected news, and his chosen coping mechanism leads him straight back to you. Part 2 of 3. Part 1 - Just Don't Say You Love Me.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, mentions of cheating. 
W/C: 4,315.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Mentioned: Sam Winchester. 
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: A bar - An Arrest - Loyalty 
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.
A/N: I finally figured out part 3 so here's part 2.
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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How did he not see this coming? Well, he did, maybe, but not this soon. But still, how could he have not seen it coming, especially after his last encounter with you? It had been written all over your face; you didn’t want a full-blown commitment or declaration of love, but the hope of some kind of promise was there. He’d shot it down immediately, made a hasty retreat, and hadn’t spoken to you in over a month.
It doesn’t make it sting any less. But that’s all it is, a sting, a scratch. It will scab over, and he’ll ignore the itch. At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself of as he pulls up at Jody’s. 
The door opens as he steps onto the porch. It’s Jody, phone to her ear, and an incredulous look turned in his direction. 
“Yeah, he’s here,” she says into the phone. So Dean assumes it’s you checking up on him. “Yeah, will do. Okay. Bye, honey.”
Dean kisses her cheek, perhaps a little too hard, as he crosses the threshold, heading straight for the liquor. 
“Dean…” she starts. 
He ends it immediately, holding a hand up so she can see it over his shoulder. “Don’t.”
He doesn’t see her surrendering gesture, but he hears it in the sigh she releases over the clink of the bottle hitting the glass. He shoots back the whiskey; it's the cheap stuff and burns more than it should. 
He pours another shot, back still turned, but he can feel Jody’s eyes on him, the worry radiating off her. He won’t tell her he’s fine. She’d see right through it.
“Wanna talk about it?”
He laughs, humorless but amused because Jody knows the answer, yet she always asks on the off chance he’ll give her a glimpse of what’s going on in his head. If only he knew himself, maybe he’d share it.
Another blazing shot warms him from the inside.
He pours another and takes a breath, waiting for the flame in his gut to simmer. But it doesn't, and it’s not because of the cheap liquor, so he concedes, taking the bottle and the glass to the chair. “Who is he?”
Jody sits opposite him, smiling softly. “His name’s Luke, nice guy.”
“Luke,” he tests out the name before washing it away, swilling the liquid around his mouth. This time, he lets the wince show, accepting that it's more than the booze. “He’s a cop, right?”
“Yeah,” Jody confirms. 
He smiles, even feels the fondness in it, but the sentiment dies before he finishes his sentence. “She has a type.”
Jody reciprocates the gesture, reaching over to take the glass from him. “Don’t push her out because of this,” she says, “she’s good for you. Some of those broken pieces didn’t seem so broken when you’d been around her. That doesn’t change because you're not sharing a bed anymore. Let her be your friend.” 
“Yeah,” Dean sighs, “maybe.” 
But he knows he will push you away because he doesn’t know how to be your friend. After all, you’ve never been just friends.
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It’s too easy and not as entertaining as Dean hoped. He’s been on a bender for a few days now. He told Sam he was just stir-crazy, the monsters haven’t been monster-ing lately, and he needs an outlet. It’s partly true. It’s the lack of killing, plus the news Jody delivered a week ago. More so the latter. 
You and Luke are engaged.
Dean thinks it's too soon; it’s only been two months. But then again, what does he know? Maybe when you know, you know. You're no fool. And you didn’t suffer fools. You wouldn’t commit to something unless you knew it was right for you.
So Dean’s been doing what Dean does best, finding distractions to bury his tumultuous emotions. He was looking for a warm body, but when no one caught his eye, he settled for ridding some suckers of their hard-earned cash. 
He’s up three hundred dollars with double or nothing on the line. Though part of the hustle is to appear drunk, as he finishes his seventh, or maybe it’s his eighth beer - he lost count after shot number four and around bottle five  - he thinks he really should slow down. If only for the fact Sam will have to come collect him and Dean doesn’t want to hear the ‘your-not-twenty-six-anymore’ lecture.
His opponent, David, walks around the table, looking for the best angle to take his shot. It doesn’t matter. Regardless of what he does, Dean’s got him in three moves. Or at least he would if his earlier victim, Jason, wasn’t striding up behind him with a furious look that Dean sees in the mirror hanging on the wall behind the table.
“Hey,” Jason calls, a tenth of a second before he throws a punch that Dean ducks.
Dean spins to face him, standing his ground. He can’t back up out of reach cause he’ll hit the wall and box himself in. “C’mon man,” Dean tries, “don’t be a sore loser.”
Jason is already swinging a second punch that Dean recognizes the poor form would likely break his hand had Dean not sidestepped to avoid it.
Two of Jason’s friends are close by but seem reluctant to back up their buddy, so Dean tries to reason with them as he pivots so Jason has his back to the wall, and Dean can back away. “Come get your friend before he gets hurt.” 
That’s enough to convince them to intervene, but instead of doing the smart thing and removing their friend from further embarrassment, they descend on Dean, and he’s left with no choice. 
He smashes the pool cue into the stomach of the first one. The dude doubles over and falls to his knees. The second man narrowly avoids tripping over him, stumbling towards Dean’s perfectly formed fist, and goes down after a crack of bone and a scream of pain. 
Jason looks down at his fallen comrades, and Dean lifts his brow, challenging him.
“Walk away,” Dean advises. 
He doesn’t.
Dean has to give credit where credit is due. Jason is tougher than his withering friends. He takes three shots to the face and manages to land a good right hook to Dean’s mouth before he drops to the floor, rolling into the fetal position when Dean takes a step forward.
He can’t be sure whether he was going to kick the man while he was down. But he’ll never know because two sets of hands grab his arms.
Dean doesn’t think. He reacts. Twisting his right arm free, he throws a punch as he turns. 
“Okay, you're under arrest…” but it’s too late. His fist connects with the jaw of his captor - a blond cop who still has a hold of him.
Dean’s brain finally registers the uniform and star pinned to his chest, and now he’s really in trouble. “Shit!” He grumbles, holding his hands up as the blood trickles from the cop’s nose.
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Dean tells Deputy Callaghan he’s making a mistake and wasting his time hauling Dean to the station. But his suggestion to call Sheriff Mills to get this mess straightened out falls on the deaf ears of the cops in the front of the squad car.
Dean gives up. Jody will have his back, and hopefully, she’s got some leftovers for him at the house. 
“You're gonna feel really stupid when we get in there,” Dean says as Callaghan roughly pulls him from the car. “I’m telling you, Sheriff Mills will have your ass for wasting her time.” 
“That’d be scary,” Callaghan smirks, smug in whatever knowledge he has that Dean doesn’t. “If she wasn’t on a retreat in Milwaukee until Monday.”
“Crap.” 
“Looks like you're our guest until we can get a hold of her, which could be days.”
“Crap.” 
Despite Dean’s lack of resistance, Callaghan makes a point of manhandling him through the station doors. He must want to look tough in front of his buddies and make the dried blood on his shirt look like Dean put up a fight that Callaghan won on account of his being detained.
Dean accepts his fate - for now. He doesn’t want to cause more trouble for Jody to clean up.
But maybe he should have because slipping the cuffs and making a run for it would have been easier than facing you. As soon as the door swings shut, like some kind of magnetic pull, your eyes find him, and you're frozen in place staring at him while some newbie who looks about twelve talks at you.
You hand the clipboard back to the young deputy and march with such purpose toward him he’s expecting a Sam-level lecture, but instead, you look around him. 
Dean’s seen the sneer you unleash on Callaghan before, but there’s an extra layer to it, a venom that spits out with your command, “Uncuff him now.” 
Dean is glad he’s not on the receiving end of your ire, and the station falls quiet. All activity ceases while they watch the show. 
The softness of Callaghan’s voice doesn’t match his words or reasoning tone. Dean can tell this dude knows he’s on thin ice with you and trying to make it right. “You don’t even know what he did.”
“Bar fight at Lloyds. Heard all about it.” 
“He hit me.”
“You're still standing, so it obviously wasn’t hard enough,” you counter, and Dean sniggers, as do some of the other people watching. 
“Y/N,” Callaghan tries again. 
You purse your lips, stubbornness settling in tight. “Release him and get out of my station.” 
Technically, it's not your station, but Dean assumes Jody’s left you in charge while she’s away. He really wants Callaghan to point that out because Dean can see your one smart comment away from adding to the bloody nose Dean gave him.
But you don’t give him a chance to make the mistake of correcting you. “You owe me, Luke, now and forever, so I’m calling in a chip. Release him!”
Silence prevails for a loaded second. Dean turns slightly to look at Luke, jiggling his hands behind his back. “You heard the boss,” he smirks, “I’m a free man.” 
Luke shakes his head and looks back at you. “Whoever he is,” he says, pointing a finger dangerously close to Dean’s face, “he’s trouble.” 
“She can handle it,” Dean counters and winks when Luke finally breaks the stare-down with you.
That’s enough to deflate his bravado a few notches, and he finally turns and leaves, slamming the door open as he goes.
Dean mumbles a thanks while you unlock his new jewelry, suddenly feeling some embarrassment for being arrested. He turns to face you, rubbing at his wrists now that the metal is gone. “Sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble.”
“It’s fine,” you wave him off, “no trouble.”
You stare at one another for a short moment, and he sees how tired you look. He opens his mouth to say it's good to see you despite the circumstances, but before he can utter a syllable, you hold up a finger. 
Leaning around him, you announce, “Shows over,” and the station springs to life again.
“I should get out of your way,” he says, giving a tight smile. 
“Can I give you a ride back to your car?”
He shakes his head, “No, thanks. I’m good. I could use the walk.”
“You got a motel?” 
“Nah, just passing through.” 
“You’re too drunk to drive back to Lebanon.” 
He shrugs, “I’ll find a motel.”
“Here,” you say, fishing in your pocket for a set of keys. “These are for Jody’s. No one’s there. Jody is in Milwaukee, Alex is on vacation with friends, and Clare is hunting in Michigan.”
He makes no move to take them, so you grab his hand and place them on his palm, closing his fingers around them. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the place, but I’m finishing up here and heading up to her cabin. Jody will be back about three tomorrow.” 
“Deputy Dick said she wasn’t back until Monday.”
You roll your eyes, “he lied. He does that.” 
You don’t elaborate, and Dean doesn’t push, but he knows there's a story to be told.
“There’s beer and leftover lasagne in the fridge,” you layer on top of the perks, “and it's closer than the bar. Just sleep it off, please. For me.”
He nods, “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
“Take care, Dean.” 
“You too,” he says. He wants to hug you or kiss your cheek or something, but instead, he stares at his fidgeting hands. “Um…maybe we can grab a drink soon,” he suggests, “it’d be nice to catch up.”
“I’d like that,” you say, and your smile is genuine and kind when he meets your eyes again. “You know where to find me, Winchester. You never needed an invitation. That hasn’t changed.”
He laughs just as someone calls your name, and you excuse yourself. He watches you cross the room to the same deputy you were speaking with earlier. He really has missed you, but the open invitation dulls the ache a little. He’s definitely going to take you up on it.
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You haven’t been sleeping well lately. It’s understandable; you’ve been through a lot, so you're surprised that you wake just after eleven to the cheerful, chirping bird song. 
It must be the peacefulness of the forest that surrounds Jody’s cabin that allowed the much-needed rest to extend later than usual. You're grateful that she practically forced the mini-break on you - “You need to get away. Get your head straight. Take a few days.” As you step onto the porch with a steaming mug of coffee and the thickest blanket you can find, you realize she was right. 
This is definitely what you need: nature and some quiet time. No hustle and bustle of a busy town, no traffic noise or drunks snoring logs in the holding cells.
Wrapping the blanket around you, you get a whiff of the cotton-fresh fabric softener and wrap it snugger around you as you sit on the porch swing. 
That’s where you spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon wrapped up in the blanket with a book from Jody’s collection. You brought a healthy supply of food with you, and that's the only decision you need to make today: what to cook for dinner. 
You’re two delicious sips into your third coffee of the day when the quiet is disrupted by the unmistakable growl of Baby’s engine. He’s not speeding, and you haven’t missed any calls, so you don’t think it's an emergency. 
Dean cuts off the engine as he pulls up behind your truck, returning the forest to its quiet tranquility, and steps out of the car with a bright smile.
“Hey,” he greets as he reaches the bottom step. 
“Hey yourself,” you grin, finding his smile endearingly contagious. “Everything okay?”
“Peachy,” he says, “passing through on my way home and wanted to say thanks again.” 
He could have called you from the road, so you know the flimsy excuse is the best he could come up with, but you're not upset that he’s there.
You laugh, “You mean Jody asked you to check up on me?” 
“That too,” he admits with a slight shrug.
You feel the hurt constrict your chest again. Jody’s concern is a reminder of what happened. “She tell you why she wanted you to check up on me?”
“No,” Dean says, climbing the few stairs to stand on the porch. “Doesn’t take a genius, though.” 
“Just a sober hunter.”
“Ow, low blow,” he laughs. 
You laugh with him for a second but cut it off with a deep sigh. He will hear the story sooner or later. It may as well come from you. Closing the book and putting it on the table, you ask, “Can you stay for dinner?” 
He claps his hands and rubs them together, “What’re we having?”
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It shouldn’t be as easy as it is to fall back into the familiarity of working together. Dean chops peppers and onions while you put the chicken breasts in the oven. It’s effortless, moving around without getting in each other's way.
You’ve missed it, and from the slight smile that remains while Dean works, you think he feels the same. 
He doesn’t press for information, though you’re sure he’s desperate to know why you're at Jody’s cabin alone and if Luke was/is your Luke owed you big enough to let him go without question.
You wash your hands and move on to making the dough, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean. It’s easier to talk that way without the embarrassment of looking at him face-on. Though you know he won’t judge you, you don’t want his pity. Still, you start with an easier question. 
“You have Charlie’s unlimited credit card.” Mixing the ingredients in the bowl, you ask, “So it’s not like you need the money. Why were you hustling people?”
He shrugs. “Needed some entertainment.”
“It work?”
“Yeah, for a minute,” he chuckles, “at least until I got socked in the mouth.”
You see his tongue poke out to lick at the cut on his lip. “Maybe that's what I need.” you wonder, sprinkling flour on the countertop.
“To get clocked in the face?” 
You chuckle along with him. “No, smartass. Some mindless entertainment, forget everything for a while.”
“Like why Luke owes you now and forever?” Dean asks. 
“Nice transition,” you jest. 
“I thought so,” he says, walking to the fridge to grab the cheese along with two beers.
He twists the caps off and tosses them in the trash. He’s started grating the cheese before you decide to tell him what happened. 
“It was good for a while, really good, dreamlike even.” you take a long pull on the beer, and he’s nice enough to keep working, piling grated cheese to the side before continuing to work on the remainder of the block. “But obviously, it was too good to be true. His ex showed up. She’d left him to take a promotion a couple of years ago but decided her career wasn’t all she wanted after all. He made a big show of telling her no and asked me to marry him." The dough takes the brunt of your ire, words punctuated with huffs of breath while you knead it into shape. “He took a demotion to be closer to me. I thought I’d bagged a good one, a real devoted guy. But I was wrong. It didn’t take long for him to cheat.” 
“Glad I clocked him.” 
“Me too.” silence stretches, and you break it by blasting out a long sigh. “I’m such an idiot. I chose the stable guy, the guy that was right on paper. I picked the easy way, and it backfired.”
“That doesn’t make you an idiot.” 
“No?” you question, pausing your work to look at him. He halts his task, too, looking at you fully. “When I found out, I did all the tests, holy water, silver, recited an exorcism ‘cause I didn’t believe he was just a bad guy. If that doesn’t spell out desperate idiot, I don’t know what does.” 
“It doesn’t!” He argues, frustrated that you're talking down about yourself. “But you know what does spell out ‘idiot’? Cheating on someone as awesome as you.”
You cock a small smile, “Thank you.” 
You hold one another's gaze for a long moment. You want to tell him that you would have picked him over Luke, over anyone else, but you know he wouldn’t want to hear it. As if he can read it in your expression, he clears his throat and breaks the loaded stare to turn back to his task.
“C’mon,” Dean says, “Let’s get these pizzas baking and get drunk.” 
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The late morning rise must have been a fluke because you can’t sleep. Considering the half bottle of whiskey you drank with Dean, you're surprised by your inability to fall asleep. 
Maybe that’s the cause of your insomnia, too much alcohol in your system, or the fact that it feels weird knowing Dean is sleeping in the room next door, or perhaps the emotional turmoil of the last few weeks is taking its toll. Whatever the reason, the more you try to force it, the further away it seems to get and the angrier you become. After an hour of tossing and turning, you give up.
You need to do something to occupy your mind and decide to bake some cookies. Once in the kitchen, you realize that using a mixer will most likely disturb Dean, who’s just down the corridor. But now that you’re up, you really want cookies and decide to mix them by hand.
The first batch is just starting to rise in the oven when Dean appears, fully dressed but with messy hair and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Crap, did I wake you?” You ask.
“Nah,” he shakes his head, bleary-eyed, squinting under the brightness of the kitchen lights. “Don’t tell Sam,” he says, “but I’m not twenty-six anymore. Indigestion woke me up.” 
You laugh lightly, “There’s Pepto in the bathroom.”
“Found it,” he tells you, clicking the button on the coffee machine. “Then I smelled cookies, so I came to investigate.” 
“Well, perfect timing. The first batch should be ready by the time the coffee’s done.”
He doesn’t speak while the coffee brews, but you feel his eyes following you. You wonder what he’s thinking but know better than to ask. Maybe you truly don’t want to know. The thought of him pitying you fills you with embarrassment despite knowing Luke’s actions are not a reflection on you.
Dean pours the fresh coffee and adds sugar and a splash of cream to yours, sliding it closer to you while you pull the first batch of cookies from the oven and onto a cooling rack. 
He steals one, “hot, hot, hot,” he hisses, juggling it from one hand to the other. Despite the obvious temperature, he takes a bite, huffing out the heat before it's cool enough to bite down. 
He chews three, four times, hesitates, and chews some more. It’s evident from the face he’s trying, unsuccessfully, to not pull that it’s terrible. 
“It’s awful, right?” you ask with an apologetic scowl.
He nods, grimacing, “Disgusting,” he confirms but starts chewing again as if the taste will improve. 
“Well, don’t eat it!” You scold, laughing, “spit it out!” 
He rushes to the trashcan and spits out the chewed-up wad. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, swiftly walking back to grab his coffee and taking a big gulp. “I was trying to be polite, but yeah, that was not good.” 
You know he’s not being purposefully mean. You’ve never been good at baking, and clearly, eyeballing the ingredients didn’t work, but it still hurts a little. You sigh, watching the cookies slide off the plate and into the trash.
You scoop the second batch of cookie dough onto the spoon and into the trash, “I guess I wouldn’t have made a good wife after all.”
“Don’t say stuff like that,” Dean reprimands. “You’d make an awesome wife.” 
Has he really thought about what kind of wife you would be? Why would he? That was never a possibility for the two of you, so it’s purely a reflex, saying something nice to make you feel better. 
You don’t respond, continuing to tidy the mess you’ve made while Dean steps out of the way, leaning his shoulder against the fridge to watch you.
While your back is turned, he asks, “Is that really what you wanted? To be his wife?”
You shrug, wiping down the countertop with a damp cloth. “I don’t even know anymore.”
“You were so career-driven, always seemed happy in the moment. I never pegged you for the white picket fence type,” he comments, sipping his coffee again.
“I never was.” You laugh without an ounce of humor because he has you dead to rights. How well he knows you always surprises you, which in turn surprises you more because that’s what he does for a living. He has to read people. The same way you do - checking for tells and body language of victims and suspects. Dean knows when he’s being lied to. You know you’d never sneak one past him. Yet he doesn’t seem to understand that he was the one who changed your perspective. He was the one who made you believe there was more to life than a career.
“So it was him then?” he softly asks, as if he’s expecting you to reveal a secret. “He changed your mind, made you want it all?” 
The anger and bitterness swell inside of you. Not just towards Luke for promising you a future and then ripping it away, but at Dean for being oblivious to the fact he’s the reason for the change of perspective.
“It doesn’t matter what changed. It’s over now,” you snap, throwing down the cloth and knocking the neat pile of crumbs you’d made onto the floor. “All of it.”
“Why are you mad at me?” he yells, looking slightly confused and standing straighter. 
“I’m not,” you try to backtrack, though your volume increases. “I’m just mad! Mad at Luke for being an unfaithful asshole, mad at myself for falling for it, mad at the universe for giving me something good and taking it away again. And y’know what? Yeah, I am mad at you, Dean! I’m fucking furious ‘cause you changed my mind. You made me realize I could have it all: a career and partner who understood my commitments, someone who was happy to slot into my life when it worked for both of us, and made me see it could be effortless. I didn’t want any of that until we started our thing.”
“Hey!” he shouts back, “I never said never. I said not right now. Or then or whatever.” 
“Bullshit! You said you couldn’t make any commitments, even without Chuck pulling the strings.” 
“Yeah, I meant I needed a minute to process, figure some stuff out. You said we were good. You didn’t want any ‘awkward conversations’,” he counters with full-on air quotes.
“I didn’t want to scare you off!” 
“And I didn’t want you to run off and meet someone new!”
“Yeah, well, that worked out just fucking great, didn’t it!” The anger simmers, and you hold his eyes until he blurs behind your tears.
Dean blasts out a sigh, “Maybe I should go.” He phrases it as a suggestion, but he’s already tipping the remainder of his coffee into the sink, so obviously, he’s made up his mind. 
“Yeah, maybe you should,” you say, blinking up at the ceiling to stem the tears. “I’m really not in the headspace for this right now.”
You keep your back turned while he shuffles around, going to the bedroom to grab his duffle. 
Why did Jody send him? She was the one who suggested the vacation, and she, of all people, knows how much losing Dean hurt you. You’d confided in Jody about the commitment comment, which had been the catalyst for realizing how deep you’d got with Dean and how much it wasn’t reciprocated.   
A chair momentarily teeters as Dean pulls his coat off the back, but the jingle of his car keys is what pulls you out of your own head. 
Tears suffocated and stalled, you find the courage to turn around, but he’s already at the door. “Dean,” you call. He stops and half turns to face you, but you don’t know what to say. It’s too soon to let yourself be vulnerable with anyone, but you don’t want him to leave, at least not like this. 
You stare at him, hoping he can read the words you can’t find in your expression. 
He breaks eye contact, looking down at his feet. “I’ve, er… I’ve missed you.”
It lifts a weight you weren’t aware you were carrying but brings fresh tears to your eyes. “I’ve missed you too.” 
He drops his bag at the door, crosses the room, and swiftly tugs you into a tight hug. “Call me when you’ve figured all this out,” he requests, and all you can do is nod into his shoulder. He kisses the side of your head and rushes out like a gust of wind.
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Part 3 - Just Say You Love Me - Sunday 25th Feb 2024.
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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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jamielea81 · 1 month
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Just Don't Say You Love Me - Master List
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Just Don't Say You Love Me - Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late. W/C: 4,776.
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The Right Guy On Paper - Dean receives unexpected news, and his chosen coping mechanism leads him straight back to you. W/C: 4,315. COMING LATER TODAY.
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Just Say You Love Me - Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. W/C: 4,901. COMING SUNDAY 25th FEB.
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jamielea81 · 1 month
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10000 likes!
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jamielea81 · 1 month
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Love, love, love this series. Firstly, it has so many parts and you all know how I love a long series. Secondly, it’s a slow burn and again you all know I love a slow burn. And lastly, the reader is amazing and Steve is amazing in this. I binged it all day.
Walk It Off (1)
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I Can’t Help (beginning of Fools Rush In series)
A Steve/Reader tale of tiptoeing around fate and the anxiety that comes with something new.
Warnings: honestly, not many, Reader has minor injuries and no gory details. Awkward conversations and therapy are involved, but mostly, they are just cute. See the whole thing on Ao3.
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Keep reading
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jamielea81 · 1 month
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Just Don't Say You Love Me
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Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending. 
W/C: 4,776.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester. 
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.
A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own. 
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day. 
Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”
You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again. 
“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him. 
“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”
“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.” 
“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.
Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.
If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.
“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours. 
“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will. 
“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.
You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise? 
They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.
“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later. 
“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.
Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.  
“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”
“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.
Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.” 
“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?” 
“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.” 
“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”
Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”
“But if I can do more…”
“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”
“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”
“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”
“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”
“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”
It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension. 
“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.” 
He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.
“Good to know,” you say.
You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first. 
“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both. 
“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”
“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play. 
“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.” 
“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests. 
Dean nods, “lead the way.”
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When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.
“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks. 
“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.” 
He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.” 
“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”
“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”
“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh. 
“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.” 
You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.  
“That hurt?” he asks. 
“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.
“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”
He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.” 
The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.
“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.
“Anytime,” you smile. 
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.
He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”
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Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial. 
He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.
Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.
If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s. 
You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.
You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.
“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.
You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.
He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him. 
Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone. 
“Hey, hi,” you answer. 
“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?” 
“Yeah, sure, okay.” 
“You okay?” 
No. Yes.
Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.” 
“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.
“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.
“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine. 
He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”
You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.” 
He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.” 
“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.” 
Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”
Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”
“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”
“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.” 
He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.” 
“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”
He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”
“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?” 
He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.
He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”
He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
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The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better. 
Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.
The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair. 
Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.
You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”
His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.” 
“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”
“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.” 
“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.
“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.
You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes. 
“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard. 
You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.” 
“They seem like a good bunch.” 
“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”
His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”
You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.
Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.
It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.
He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door. 
“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“
“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”
He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”
You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”
“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.
Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”
The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.
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Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you. 
The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.
It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.
Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them. 
The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.
He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.
You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you. 
It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.
He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction. 
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Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls. 
“Hey,” you greet brightly.
The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.” 
“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”
He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?” 
“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”
“I can wait.” 
“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer. 
He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.  
“Okay, got it,” You laugh.
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Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.
He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?” 
“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own. 
Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you. 
“Maybe we should take this inside.”
“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.
He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.
“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.
“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you. 
“How’s Sam?”
“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.” 
“Good for them.” 
You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards. 
He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.
It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong. 
You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.” 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”
He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.
You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you. 
He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…” 
“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.
“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”
You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.” 
He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly. 
“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away. 
He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again. 
“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”
He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return. 
Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”
He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop. 
He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.
“Dean, please,” you call from the door. 
He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.
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A/N: Part 2 is technically done but without knowing how part 3 is going to end I'm not posting it, so for now this is a one shot.
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Tags info
/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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jamielea81 · 2 months
Text
That's How You Do It
Requested: @heavenlyackles
Tags: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @perpetualabsurdity @antisocialcorrupt @k-slla @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @deans-spinster-witch
Warnings: alcohol consumption, pining, jealousy, some language, and hot sex!
switching point of view indicated with italics.
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Reader
I thought I was at peak happiness when I got the call from my agent, telling me that I had been casted in the new CW show supernatural. It was my first big break, and I just had a feeling this show was going to change my life.
It was the happiest moment of my life.
I didn't know when joining the cast that I'd gain a best friend and a family. I loved all the cast, but found myself closer to Jensen than any other cast member. He was my best friend. It was a good thing we were so comfortable with each other, considering our characters played love interests on the show. It made filming a lot less awkward.
"on your marks." the director yelled.
Jensen and I smiled at each other before getting in to character. We were about to film a scene where our characters have an argument but kiss and make up.
I was nervous for the kiss. It wasn't the first time we'd kissed on screen, but it was the first time that the feelings behind the kiss were moving off screen.
I wasn't exactly sure when I blurred the lines of our friendship. I just knew they were definitely blurred. I was completely in love with him, and he was either completely clueless, or knew and just didn't want to hurt my feelings because he didn't feel the same.
either way, we had a good thing going, and I wasn't going to ruin our friendship by spilling feelings.
"and action."
I quickly put on an angry face before delivering my lines.
"you can't be serious Dean, this is suicide!"
"yeah well it's all we have right now." Jensen said putting prop weapons in the trunk of the impala.
"there has to be another way."
Jensen flipped around getting in my face.
"there's no other way, don't you get that? if we don't do this.." Jensen tapered off his line with a shake of his head and then flipped back around continuing with what he was doing.
I walked to my next mark, standing beside him.
"why do you always do this?"
"do what?" he grumbled.
"think that you have to do everything alone?" I recited.
Jensen was quiet, as he took a deep breath, signifying his character was in distress. I placed a hand on his arm, following the script.
"I'm here Dean, please let me in."
I took a shaky breath, here it was, the kiss.
Jensen turned around, wrapping his arm behind my back, and crashed. his lips to mine. I put my hand on the back of his head pulling him closer. I was so lost in the kiss, I barely heard the director yell cut.
Jensen pulled away leaving a tingling feeling on my lips.
"I think I'm going to be sick." Jared joked coming in to the shot.
"you're just jealous you don't get to kiss Jensen." I joked, taking a sip from my water bottle that was sitting nearby.
"Oh please I can kiss him anytime I want." Jared said placing a wet sloppy kiss to Jensen's cheek.
I gagged making both boys laugh.
"just because it's your birthday, I won't punch you for that." Jensen laughed.
Jared was about to respond when the Director informed us we'd be done shooting for the day.
"so eight o'clock right, we're all meeting for drinks?" I questioned making sure I knew the plan for tonight.
Jared shook his head confirming. Jensen was unusually quiet. He usually was lately after we finished filming kissing scenes. It made me feel that much worse.
"I'm going to go get ready then, see you guys tonight." I smiled turning away from my costars.
Jensen
"dude when are you going to tell her?" Jared spoke as soon as she was out of sight.
It was no secret that after all the hours of filming with her, all the scenes where our characters were kissing, or wrapped up in each other that the lines between acting and reality had blurred.
I found myself looking forward to kissing or sex scenes, anyway that would give me the chance to be close to her. I swear the writers wrote more in to the script just for me.
I was in love with her, and everyone knew... well everyone except her.
or the other possibility, the one that kept me from revealing my feelings, was that she did know, but didn't feel the same.
either way, we had a good thing going, and I wasn't going to ruin our friendship by spilling feelings.
"uh how about never"
"so you're just going to keep pining after her like a love sick puppy?"
"you know what Jar, your birthday only lasts for a few more hours, and then I'm punching you."
"besides, I don't even know what to say to her, I get all nervous." I added feeling exactly like a love sick puppy.
"you get nervous?" Jared laughed.
"you know now I don't even care that it's your birthday, come here." I growled putting him in a head lock.
Jared was easily able to get out of it due to his sheer height.
"look man, all I'm saying is she might have feelings for you too."
I looked at him for a moment. I guess it was possible, but I wasn't about to get my hopes up and ruin everything we've built.
"yeah I'm good with never."
"J, I'm trying to help you out here, I mean god damn you got a boner just from kissing her." Jared laughed.
I looked down to see I was indeed sporting a noticeable boner. I quickly adjusted myself so it was no longer noticeable.
"you tell anyone about this and you won't make it to your next birthday." I threatened him with a stern look.
"got it, jerk." Jared smirked shoving my shoulder.
"bitch."
It was silent for a moment before a booming voice broke it.
"how are my two favorite sons?"
Jeff came up wrapping an arm around me and Jared. He wasn't that much older than us in reality, but never the less treated us as if we were his real sons.
"just trying to teach Jensen how to flirt." Jared spoke up making me hit him in the gut.
"you still haven't told that girl?" Jeff asked looking at me disappointedly.
"I"m going to need both of you to hop off my dick." I grumbled walking to my trailer.
of course they both followed, continuing their agonizing teasing.
"I don't see why you won't just tell her, I mean it's been four seasons." Jeff said fixing his hair in my mirror.
"I told you guys, we have a good friendship, and feelings ruin friendships." I said stripping out of my Dean costume and into a red flannel with a pair of jeans.
"unless girl reciprocates feelings, then friendship turns into relationship and then friends can finally stop haggling you." Jared said pushing my buttons.
"look I'm not telling her, and that's final." I growled exiting the trailer.
god they didn't know when to let shit go. I wasn't followed this time and I was thankful. I grabbed a beer chugging it.
I call it pregaming before tonight.
Jared
Jeff and I watched Jensen leave in a huff.
"he's really got it bad." I said causing Jeff to nod his head in agreement.
Jeff looked at me, a mischievous look on his face.
He was plotting.
"I like that look, what are you thinking?" I grinned.
"what if we make him tell her?" Jeff said.
I scoffed, yeah like that's ever going to happen.
"how do you suppose we do that?"
"Jensen's never been one to handle jealousy well, I think I have the perfect idea! Now come on, birthday boy can't be late for his own party now can he?"
Reader
I smoothed out my black party dress before applying a thin layer of lip gloss to my plump lips.
"okay who are you and what have you done with my girl?"
I turned around giving a smile to Genevieve. She was a recurring character on the show, and now Jared's girlfriend.
"I could say the same about you, are you uh dressing up for Jared's after party present?" I smirked, looking at her very revealing outfit.
"is it too much?" Gen asked covering her body.
"no, not at all, he'll definitely be smitten." I smiled running a hand through my hair.
"not as smitten as Jensen will be with you." Gen said, grabbing my lip gloss before applying some to her lips.
"I don't think so."
"please, that boy literally drools over you, everyone sees it." Gen said pushing her boobs up to make sure they looked good for Jared.
I rolled my eyes at her laughing.
"you're ridiculous Gen."
"think what you will, but I have a feeling this will be quite the interesting night." she said before skipping out to meet the boys.
"oh I'm sure it will be......for you." I muttered before joining her.
Gen was already lip locking with Jared, and I'm sure giving him a taste of what was to come later. I locked eyes with Jensen giving him a smile. He looked handsome in his red flannel and jeans. He always looked handsome though.
"you look beautiful." Jensen said offering me a smile.
"not to shabby yourself Ackles." I smirked.
He was about to say something else when arms wrapped around me from behind in a hug, hoisting me in the air.
"there's my favorite firecracker."
I instantly recognized the voice as Jeffery Dean Morgan. It's been awhile since he was on the show as his character John was killed off in season two.
"Jeff put me down." I laughed.
He instantly put me down, turning me around so I was facing him. He looked different. He was sporting white in his hair and beard now. Don't get me wrong he still looked incredible, just different.
"how have these boys been treating you?" Jeff asked glancing at Jensen with a smirk.
"same old same old although Misha takes the brunt of the jokes now." I laughed.
"yeah, no kidding." Misha said, appearing with his wife.
I greeted fellow cast mates and friends before everyone dispersed in to the bar to start celebrating Jared. I ordered some whiskey, going to look for my friend. I felt my chest tighten as I saw Jensen talking to a beautiful blonde.
"need a drinking partner?"
"only because it's you." I smiled as I turned around to meet eyes with Jeff.
Jensen
"like can you believe that?"
I smiled at the woman, she was a fan and was talking my ear off. I didn't want to be rude, because I knew without my fans I wouldn't be anywhere, but at the same time, I couldn't wait to get away from this girl to hang out with the girl I really wanted to.
"yep, totally unbelievable." I gave a stale response hoping she'd get the gist, but of course she didn't.
I let my eyes wonder around the bar as this girl droned on with a story I didn't really care about. I was looking for one person in particular. I finally spotted her at the end of the bar, the sound of her laughter filling my ears. I felt my chest burn with jealousy as I saw the source of her laughter.
Jeff sat beside her, a bottle of whiskey between the two. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as he told her something else making her laugh.
What the hell was he doing? He knows how I feel about her!
"are you okay?" the girl asked waving a hand in front of my face to grab my attention.
"sorry, I uh gotta go."
I walked over finding Jared who was grinding with Genevieve. I grabbed his arm making him protest.
"do you see that!?" I exclaimed pointing towards where they sat, a little too close for my liking.
"I see two friends talking." Jared shrugged.
"okay that's way more than friendly." I grumbled.
"If it bothers you so much why don't you go say something." Jared said as if the solution was so simple.
"I can't then she'll know that.."
"that you're jealous." Jared smirked.
"I am not jealous." I scoffed.
"no, not at all." Jared said his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.
"maybe I'm a little jealous."
"a little?"
"don't push it." I growled.
"look dude, I doubt anything is happening, you know what Jeff is like when he's drunk, he talks out of his ass and he's a little too affectionate." Jared tried to assure me.
He was probably right. I was just being paranoid.
"now if you don't mind my girlfriend is looking exceptionally hot tonight, and is exceptionally horny."
I gagged pushing him away from me back towards Gen.
I couldn't fight the feeling of dread. I sat down at the bar ordering a couple shots. I kept my eyes on them, wishing I'd have the courage to go over and interrupt.
I wasn't going to ruin our friendship.... I just had to keep telling myself that.
I didn't realize how long I'd sat watching them until I saw people starting to disperse. Jared and Gen dipped out awhile ago and were no doubt fucking somewhere right now.
I felt my heart drop as Jeff got up, offering her his hand before leading her towards the door. I growled as she went with him willingly. I tried to calm my demeanor as they were passing me.
"oh hang on Jeff, I forgot my phone." (y/n) said dropping his hand and running back to the end of the bar where they were sitting.
Jeff turned to me, and I could no longer control my jealous rage.
"that's how you flirt with a pretty woman." Jeff whispered offering me a smirk.
If we weren't in a public place, I'd probably get up right then and there and punch him in the face. I can't believe he'd do something like this to me. I thought he was my friend. I was about to respond but she came back in to view.
"ready to go?" she asked with a smile.
"absolutely." Jeff smirked.
"you okay J?" I heard her sweet voice ask.
I was the furthest thing from okay, but I doubt she cared anyways.
"just peachy." I grumbled.
Jeff smirked one last time, leading her out of the hotel bar. I purchased a fifth of whiskey, taking it up to my room to drown out my sorrows in booze. Any chance I had was now squashed, and I was absolutely miserable.
Reader
I woke up with a pounding headache. I definitely drank too much last night. I got up stretching my limbs, before throwing on a sweatshirt. I was going to go check on Jensen as I didn't get to talk to him much last night.
At first I was talking with Jeff to distract me from the fact Jensen was chatting with a girl, but then I found myself genuinely enjoying his presence. I forgot how easy he was to talk to, and I missed his company. I knocked on Jensen's hotel door, hearing a faint come in.
I walked in to see Jensen sipping coffee with a frown on his face, his hair sticking up in different directions.
"damn what happened to you?" I joked collapsing on his bed.
He was silent as he sipped his coffee and read the newspaper.
"oh god I'm never drinking again." I groaned putting a hand to my head dramatically.
"you shouldn't after last night." Jensen grumbled from behind the newspaper.
I sat up on the bed confused. What in the hell was he going on about? I didn't do anything last night?
"what are you talking about?"
Jensen sighed before setting down the newspaper.
"do you even remember last night?" He asked.
"uh yeah.." I confirmed even more confused at what he was going on about.
"so you meant to do that?" He scoffed.
"J, what are you going on about?"
He grumbled before picking up his coffee cup again.
"it's nothing... I just didn't think you'd be a one to have a one night stand with a costar."
I nearly choked on my saliva. I burst in to a fit of laughter causing Jensen to glare at me angrily.
"hold the phone, I didn't sleep with anyone." I said still laughing.
"but you and Jeff?"
"were talking about our mutual love of 80's music, extensively might I add, he wanted to show me a new vinyl he got, so we left the bar and went to his room so he could show me. I listened to it with him and afterwards went to my hotel room to sleep.... alone." I said emphasizing that I was alone last night.
I could see Jensen's cheeks don a rose color in embarrassment.
"god I'm an idiot." He laughed.
I joined in his laughter nodding my head. He really could be and idiot sometimes.
"I can't believe I thought you actually slept with Jeff." He said shaking his head in disbelief.
I gave him a confused look.
"not uh that there's anything wrong with Jeff, I mean he's a great guy and all, it's just that he's not uh..." Jensen nervously rambled.
"not you?" I questioned before biting my lip.
Jensen was taken back by my words.
"were you jealous J?" I asked taking a step closer to him.
He scoffed trying to play cool.
"of course not, I'm not a jealous guy."
"oh good, so it won't bother you that we made out a little bit while listening to the vinyl." I shrugged trying to get under his skin.
"wait really?" Jensen asked, his face falling.
I felt really bad now, his voice sounded broken .
"no not really, I just wanted you to admit you were jealous." I smirked.
Jensen breathed a noticeable sigh of relief.
"fine, I was jealous." Jensen whispered.
"what was that? I didn't catch it?" I laughed wanting him to admit it louder.
"I was jealous okay!"
"J, you have no reason to be jealous." I smiled.
"of course I do, god you're fucking perfect, and any guy would be lucky to have you, and here I am completely in love with you and too scared to do anything about it for fear of messing up our friendship when you inevitably tell me you don't feel the same way."
I felt my mouth drop open in shock. Jensen was in love with me?
Now this was officially the happiest moment of my life.
"and I know I probably just ruined everything anyways and you probably don't..." Jensen started to ramble on but I cut him off.
"shut up and just kiss me already." I smiled.
Jensen looked shocked but wasted no time closing the gap between us before slamming his lips on mine. I kissed him back hungrily pouring all of my pent up feelings into the kiss. I gripped the ends of his hair tugging it as our mouths devoured each other. He grabbed my ass making me gasp, he took that moment to slip his tongue in my mouth deepening the kiss. I pulled away after a moment, gasping for air.
"you really are an idiot sometimes." I laughed as he leaned his forehead against mine.
"you don't know how long I've wanted to do that off screen." Jensen said taking a deep breath.
"I stopped acting a long time ago." I said cupping his cheek with my hand.
"does that mean?"
"I love you too." I spilled.
Jensen's eyes lit up as he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I grabbed the back of his neck bringing him back down in a kiss. I was the one to slip my tongue between his lips this time, deepening our passionate kiss.
"you have no idea the things I've dreamt about doing to you." Jensen panted as he came up for air.
I placed a kiss along his jaw line, kissing to his neck.
"why don't you show me?" I whispered seductively.
Jensen didn't need anymore convincing. I squealed as he picked me up in his strong arms, throwing me on the bed. I watched as he ripped his shirt off revealing his toned chest and abs. I clenched my thighs together, getting hot just at the sight of him alone. He hovered over me connecting our lips once again in a heated kiss.
I gasped as he moved his lips from mine, down to my neck. I could feel him suck on a sensitive spot making me omit a moan. His hands traveled under my sweatshirt, slowly removing it from my body. I instinctively covered my chest, feeling insecure laying under him.
"don't, you're breathtaking." Jensen said removing my arms.
I relaxed a little bit as his lips went back to my neck, this time traveling down my collarbone towards my breasts. His hands grabbed the straps of my bra gently pulling it down exposing me. I could see his eyes fill with lust as he stared at me.
Jensen removed my bra completely before taking one of my nipples in his mouth. I moaned as his hands traveled down my sides to my clothed heat. He started to rub me through the fabric of my shorts, driving me insane. I rolled my hips in to his hand needing more friction.
"Jensen please." I whined.
His lips released my nipple before crashing back on my own. I took the opportunity to fumble with the tie on his sweatpants before reaching my hand in and palming him through his boxers.
"I love you so much." Jensen said with a pant.
"I love you J."
"I want to make love to you."
"please.”
with my consent he put his hands in the waist band of my shorts, pulling my shorts and panties down in one swift movement. I was already so hot for him.
"damn baby, already ready for me." Jensen smirked licking his lips.
"I want you so bad baby." I whined tugging at his sweatpants.
Jensen smirked before standing up to discard of his sweatpants and boxers. I felt the blush creep on my cheeks as I stared at his length. He caught me, offering a smirk before pulling out a foil, opening it and unrolling it on to himself. Jensen hovered back over me, returning his lips to my own. I gasped in to the kiss as Jensen slowly slid inside of me.
"you alright baby?" Jensen asked wiping some hair that was stuck to my forehead.
I adjusted to him quicker than I thought.
"move J please." I whined.
"as you wish princess."
Jensen moved his hips, pulling out before sliding back inside. I moaned as my fingers trailed up and down his back. Jensen thrusted softly at first before picking up his pace. He snuck kisses in every now and then. I moaned loudly as he thrusted harder in to me, making the bed shake.
"fuck baby, I've been waiting so long for this." Jensen moaned.
"you feel so good J." I panted, digging my nails in to his back.
Jensen snapped his hips a few more times before I noticed his thrusts becoming sloppier.
"I can't hold it much longer baby." He whined.
I moaned in response, feeling the knot in my stomach getting tighter and tighter. A few more thrusts had both Jensen and I spilling our arousal on to each other. I moaned heavily, riding out my euphoric high. Jensen slowed his thrusts before pulling out completely, making me feel empty inside.
I watched as he disposed of the condom before collapsing beside me He pulled me to him, allowing me to lay my head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around me, the other going behind his head to prop him up.
"I knew I loved you shortly after we met, I didn't want to ruin our friendship either, in case you didn't feel the same." I said looking up at Jensen.
"I've wanted to tell you for so long, I just couldn't bring myself to, in case you didn't feel the same, It wasn't until I saw you with Jeff that I realized that I needed you to know."
"I guess we should be thanking him then." I joked.
"yeah about that.." Jensen smirked reaching for his phone on the night stand.
I gave him a confused look as he pulled up Jeff's contact information, typing him a message.
: and that's how you man up and get the girl....hope we didn't disturb you too much 😏
I laughed at Jensen flaunting us.
"what's that about?" I asked.
"that is a story for a different time, I have years of pining to make up for." Jensen laughed flipping us over to so he could kiss me again.
Yep.
This is peak happiness.
Author Note:
I hope you like it! I loved this request, and it's honestly my favorite thing I've written on here so far! I can't wait to do the others! If you enjoy it please heart, reblog, comment and follow! I adore you all!
xoxo
Liv
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jamielea81 · 2 months
Photo
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BEN BARNES photographed by Mallory Turner for 1883 Magazine // February 2022
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jamielea81 · 2 months
Text
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Glen Powell in Mexico [via x]
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jamielea81 · 2 months
Text
Evenings
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Flash fiction
Chris Evans x Reader
Minors - do not interact - 18+ only
A/N: This is the couple from Just Friends. Ramblings between a couple at bed time. A little floof. All for fun.
**
Your hand stroked him over his boxers as the two of you lounged in bed. The TV was on and YouTube played another video about the history of 90s rock. It was your evening routine - YouTube, not the stroking, well, the stroking too.
“Three times today,” you said with a smile on your face. Your head rested on his t-shirted stomach while your eyes remained mostly on the TV in front of you.
“Well, if you keep touching it, of course it’s going to be awake.”
‘It’ was at half mast and would be completely hard in the matter of a minute, so you kept on intertwining your fingers under, over, and around it while the two of you snuggled.
Once Chris was completely hard, your fingers lifted the end of his t-shirt to access his stomach. You began to weave your fingers through the hairs, drawing imaginary lines.
“Guess I should stop then. Let you get some sleep for once,” you said.
Chris grabbed your hand and slid it from under his shirt, back to where ‘It’ was fully awake.
“You better not,” he replied.
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jamielea81 · 5 months
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Thanks for the tag @bellaireland1981!
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Tagging @amanda-teaches @pinknerdpanda @beccaanne814 @princessmisery666 @flamencodiva
✨Aesthetic Tag Game✨
On Pinterest , search your name + core and choose the first 6 pictures then post!
Thank you @roosterforme and @na-ta-sh-aa for the tag!
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No pressure Tagging @waywardodysseys @denisemarieangelina @nickysurfer28 @beyondthesefourwalls @missathlete31 @jamielea81
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jamielea81 · 5 months
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Finally checked out the new Moana walk through attraction at Epcot. Super pretty, especially at night.
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