#i have a few in my steam library too that my laptop cannot play and they're just. sitting there. waiting

[moosoobi]

Revelation

In the night: Chapter 1

T.Jeffy- Hamilton: the musical

Thomas’s interest in Y/N pulls him into a position he was previously blind to. They say every girl’s another mystery, but definitely not like this. Buckle your seatbelt Tommy, you’re in for a ride

Finally finished the first part of ITN (which is ironic since the moment I wrote this message I still haven’t finished it). I really hope I’m able to bring this story to life the way I want to and I hope y’all enjoy 😔💕. Here’s some stuff to expect:

Told from Thomas’s POV

Modern Au

College talk even though I’m literally in my second year of high school (so please bear with me) 

Ruh roh moments

Sorta weird POV/storytelling (I’m new to writing fics and stuff so this is definitely a learning opportunity) Also excuse my English errors: Though this is my only language, my school system seemed to fail in teaching me how to write

Word count: 6.7k (including separators) 

2 DISCLAIMERS:

TW: itty bitty angst, themes of injury/blood, etc. 

I’m not the best story writer, so after reading this chapter you may have many questions. Please keep in mind that this is one chapter out of (about) 10. Things that you may not understand in this chapter will most likely be explained in future chapters.

-Now Playing: In The Night by The Weeknd-

My God, she’s perfect 

     The way the sunlight reflects off of her glass skin. The sincerity in every word, every letter that she writes with her only pencil. To be that flawless, it’s a mystery to me. She takes a glance at me. Did she feel me staring? I duck down my head in embarrassment. 

“Jefferson, you oughta put that scholarship to good use”

     Professor Washington boomed to the entire class. I hear a fragment of her giggle. Her laugh is soft and naïve. I couldn't help but smile at the sound of her happiness.

     Washington is right, though. It's my first semester after I came back from my student exchange program over in France and I can already feel my sanity slipping. France was a beauty to visit, so many customs and cultures I wish I could be flourished in right now. 

     But there was one thing great about going to school in New York: I get to sit in a classroom with Y/N L/N. 

     I’ve never talked to her formally, at least not yet. She’s always sitting alone, never answers any questions, but Professor Washington makes the class acknowledge her perfect test scores and fascinating interpretations 

     As the bell rings I watch her stand swiftly. Is she in a rush? I can't help but watch as her hair is flung over her shoulder. She stuffs her notebooks and singular pencil into her burgundy-magenta backpack. Hey, at least she has good taste in color. 

I don’t think you understand

     She sits alone everyday during lunch, yet she never looks bothered. Her energy is so compelling to me. A feeling about her that I cannot comprehend, something that feels greater than my existence. I just got to know. 

“Thomas, you gotta work on staring at people less noticeable” James catches my attention by pointing his fork a little too close to my face. 

      I was staring? Again?

     I shake my head to snap back to reality

“The great Thomas Jefferson is interested in someone for longer than 30 seconds. I gonna be honest with you Thom, that’s impressing”

     I hear James laugh as he violently stabs a few pieces of pasta onto his fork. 

     James has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We went to the same middle and high school down in Virginia, and just coincidentally ended up going to the same college in New York. 

     We’re always there for each other. I remember cheering for him at a high school assembly after he won a story writing challenge, he’s such a nerd. Then again, he had to drive me home a couple of times after I failed multiple driving tests.

     Back in high school, James was the Chess Club Champion, a title he always shoved down my throat. It’s no secret why, though. He’s really good at thinking things through, While I on the other hand tend to dive headfirst into the abyss.

“Shut it James” I sarcastically retort, taking a sip of the expensive chocolate milk which my scholarship supposedly pays for 

Hey, can I sit here?

     I talked to her during class. Her voice is angelic: Now, I’m not one to be religious and all, but that voice could get me on my knees praying for forgiveness. My ego couldn’t get me anywhere at all, as if she already knew my tactics, she knew my flirts, and how? I guess it just adds to her mystery.

“C'mon! that one works every time!” I whine

“Don't be so full of yourself Jefferson, I’ve heard them all before” A smile danced across her face

     She did, however, laugh at some of my remarks. It's good to know that she has a sense of humor. My jokes of Professor Washington’s shiny, bald head. The jokes of Professor Washington’s assistant, John Adams, who’s suspiciously absent considering he signed up for this job.

     Heck, I would even make fun of myself if it meant I got to hear that graceful laugh one more time- actually, that might be a little too far.

     Many days of giggling in class came after that day. I can see her starting to open up to my friends and I, like she’s spreading her wings and showing us the greatness that lies behind the social wall that she put up years ago. Even when we got in trouble for a little too much giggling in the back of the class, I sacrificed my own pride so she didn’t have to. Yes, I, Thee Thomas Jefferson, did that. 

---

     Even though I could see the social wall she put up, I knew one day Y/n would fall for my charming pick up lines, or maybe I just happened to have a lucky day:

“Y/N I need some a some help with my math homework” 

     Y/N glances over to me in concern. I fake a scared expression.

“Quick!” I swiftly grab her shoulder and shake her “What’s your phone number?”

     She playfully smacks my arm

---

     Obtaining her number felt like a rite of passage, like I’m important to her, like she wants me in her life. I couldn’t stop smiling that day, and of course James just had to make a comment on it. 

“Thomas, if you keep smiling like that I’m going to start thinking that your sick or something”

      James said as he shut my laptop, tired of waiting for me to pack my things.

“Now that's REAL ironic coming from you, James” 

      I raised an eyebrow as my laugh begins to come up my throat. I take my closed laptop and shove it somewhere into my backpack.

“Okay, leaving for a month in sophomore year just because of a little fever doesn’t make ‘being sick’ as part of my trade mark” 

     James playfully smacked the back of my head. Thankfully, my curls serve as protection, not just to make me sinfully handsome. James and I walk out of the freezing lecture hall and were hit with the crisp-coldness of New York.

     To the right of me I catch a glimpse of that eye catching burgundy-magenta backpack as it’s thrown into the trunk of a shiny, expensive car. My feet keep its motion as my head turns to see Y/N standing at the door of the car. 

“Yo, is that Y/N?” I hear James whisper behind me “and who’s that?” 

     My attention is suddenly drawn to the tall man walking around the car to open her door. His curly hair is pulled into a small bun and the smile he had on his face broke apart the stubble on his jaw. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. 

“I’m just as clueless as you are”

     Keeping my glance on Y/N and the man, I watch as the man opens the door for her. My stomach turns as I watch Y/N smile back at him as she sits in the car. 

     For a split second, I swear I saw her shoot a soft glance at me. My feet almost stop in their tracks before I feel James’ hand yank me onto another pathway. 

“I’m all for you being head over heels, but we’re gonna be late to our study session with Angie” 

     Reality starts to set back into my head. 

“Right, lets dip.” 

---

“So little Tommy is Infatuated with this woman?”

     Angie’s eyes are piercing, and her luscious hair frames her face in a saintly manner. She slips off her baby pink coat to ease into her library seat. Her eyebrow raises as she takes a sip of her steaming coffee

     Of course James wouldn’t shut his mouth, especially around the notorious Angelica Schuyler.

     Angie’s pretty popular here, I find myself wondering why she has so many connections, yet it’s not just any reason(s) why she seems to be in the spotlight.

     1: She’s the oldest Schuyler. Her last name definitely got her places, not like I’m one to talk. Everyone seems to know her, not just at school, but all around New York City, and with her 5,000 Instagram followers, her first name’s starting to catch up with her last name in popularity

     2: Angie’s Daddy has money money. And that’s no secret when she decides to walk around campus with her designer handbags and shoes. I tend to think she always gets what she wants, but I know deep down, she’s never gonna be satisfied. Maybe it’s just a side effect of growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth

     And finally,

     3: Miss Schuyler here is Bold. She’s never afraid to put both me and James in our place. It’s almost as if she can’t be touched by anyone’s thoughts of her, then again the gossip in NYC is terribly insidious. With such grace and respect, Angelica is not afraid to throw your opinion into the ground.

“Yeah I swear, Jefferson would’ve gotten run over if I didn’t pull him onto the pathway” James attempted to tone down his laugh so the librarian wouldn’t stab him with those old, sharp eyes

“She-...”

For the first time, I didn’t know how to recoil

 “..Just caught me off guard.”. In an attempt to change the topic, I flipped through the pages of his textbook. 

Angelica and James shared an astonished glance at Thomas before looking at each other. I could hear James shrug and flipping open his textbook. I lift my head as I hear Angelica dig through her bag

“Alright let’s get started” Angie claps her hands together with determination

—-

     It’s been 2 hours of studying in the ghostly library. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid the talk forever.

“Hey Thomas, why don’t you invite her to our next study session?”

     Angelica smirked as she rudely shut my laptop. I desperately imagine the day where both James and Angelica leave me alone. I angrily glare up at her, but she has a good idea

“Actually, that’s not to bad of an idea” I ponder for a moment before retrieving my phone from my pocket

Thomas: Hey Y/N, u free this week?

     Hmm. Is this okay? Nah it’s too straight forward. I sigh as I deleted and retyped the message

Thomas: Greetings Ms. L/N, this is Mr. Jefferson from class. Would you delight me by partaking in a study session? 

What the heck Jefferson? I began to get frustrated from this nonsense. It’s just a text, why am I getting so anal over it?

Thomas: Hey Y/N, ds@insdas/19z7dnesdc-

     Angelica, who was watching me the entire time, snatched the phone from my hands. I attempted to protest, yet Angelica Schuyler knows how to hold her ground.

“Angie wh-” 

“I’ll do you a favor, Jefferson.” She said sternly. There was no way I was getting that phone back, heck, I would be lucky if I got it back in one piece

“Aaaaand sent!” I heard her squeal 

     Angelica suddenly tossed the phone to me and I fumbled it between my hands before I held it stably. I check to see the text that Angelica sent from my phone

Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?

Oh. It was that easy.

“Thanks Angie”

I shove my phone back in my pocket. Part of me was excited to have an excuse to text Y/N, yet I do wonder how awkward it would be if she rejected the offer. I mean, she already has the perfect grades, why would she need the extra help?

I start to rethink my decision.

—-

     It wasn’t until 11 pm at night until I got a reply from Y/N. Beforehand, I arrived at my apartment around 8 pm. As soon as my door shut, the room was filled with growls indicating my current problem: hunger. That could only be solved with one solution: microwavable mac and cheese. 

     My phone dinged while I was laying motionless on my bed. My apartment was right next to the street, and all I could hear was the busy streets of New York City.

     My eyes opened as I turned to my charging phone. 

Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way

     I was filled with joy, so much that I couldn’t wait another second to reply. 

Thomas: Alright, we meet at the library after our class. Can you make it? 

     Seeing the three dots jump melodically made my stomach feel as if two fairies were dancing throughout my body. Any second now, any second. ding!

Y/N: sounds good!

     I guess it’s settled, I get to hang out with the puzzling Y/N L/N, and maybe I’ll get to learn a bit more about her. But just because it’s a study session doesn’t mean I can’t show her what a southern gentleman looks like, and for the first time, I’m so excited to study

---

     James, Y/N, and I walk out of professor Washington’s class, laughing our asses off over some stupid joke. Everyone around us appears to be annoyed, especially with having to sit through almost two hours of my friends and I laughing in the back of the class, but it’s not like I care.

     Once we’re hit by the bitter cold of New York, my eyes are immediately drawn to that expensive car. So familiar and so faint in head, the memory of Y/N smiling as she hopped into his car replays in my brain.

“I’ll be back guys”

     Y/N excuses herself from the group before lightly jogging to the car. Her hair was graceful in the wind, and her burgundy-magenta backpack didn’t seem to weigh her down at all. For a split second, my brain acknowledges that mysterious man in the driver’s seat. There was a moment of awkward eye contact with him, his cold eyes pierced through me before my attention was drawn back to Y/N. She fixes her hair and jacket.

That was cute.

What?

     James and I watch Y/N before turning to each other. I suggest to James that we wait for her, show a little southern hospitality. Even though Y/N seems to be fond of this man, he gives off a mysterious vibe similar to Y/N’s, but I do not want to unravel that mystery at all.

     Seeing him throw a smirk at Y/N causes discomfort in my stomach. 

     Y/N comes prancing back to us, an embarrassed smile on her face. Behind her, that shiny, expensive car begins to drive away.

“My bad, I forgot to tell my roommate that I would be out late”

“That’s your roommate?” James asks, attempting to hide his curiosity and shock

“and he takes you home after class?” I interrupt briefly

Y/N nervously laughs before nodding “something like that, he just..”

     That pause was a little too long

“..doesn’t like me out of the house too late so he volunteers to drive me home all the time”

     I shrug it off before jumping at the feeling of James’ warm hands pulling Y/N and I to the direction of the library. Y/N and I look at him with confusion

“What? Angie doesn’t like when we’re late, remember?” James says, practically dragging us to the Library

—-

“Nice to meet you”

     Angelica and Y/N got along pretty well. I can tell Angie was happy to finally have a girl to hangout with rather than having to deal with me and James only. She’s already starting to resemble a sisterly figure to Y/N, then again, growing up with two sisters must’ve prepared Angie for this moment.

     I don’t hear much about the other Schuylers, but I am familiar with them. Angelica is the oldest, as we know. Her first sister, Eliza Sch- I’m pretty sure she got married, is the nicest person you’ll meet. Whoever won her surely must be worthy, because we all know people like me wouldn’t get anywhere near Eliza thanks to her older sister. Her youngest sister, Margarita Peggy Schuyler, is just like Angelica.

     Stubborn. As. Fuck.

     I’m confident that Angelica has taught her that philosophy since she was born. Anyway, Peggy is currently living her dreams in Southern California. Not sure what she does, but I’m sure she’s financially stable, she is a Schuyler after all.

     All of us struggle to not annoy the librarian, let alone the entire library. I watch as Y/N opens up, just a little more, to Angelica, James, and I.

     Hours pass as we clown around in the library. From actually completing class work to a small drawing competition between James and I, I was certainly having a good time, and so was everyone else.

     It was pleasing to see Y/N more laid back rather than how she acts in class. In front of Professor Washington she’s so ‘put together’ and organized, but surrounded by her friends she’s such an amazing person, her range in professionalism and humor is astounding.

     I can’t seem to ignore the fact that Angelica notices the way I look at Y/N. It’s definitely not in my strong suit to be ‘low key’, I’m known for dramatic entrances and stealing the spotlight. She smiles when I make eye contact with her, and I’m pretty sure it’s just her way of annoying me, but I can’t help the way I look at Y/N. She really is an angel sent down from heaven, disguised as a college student, and I’m just lucky enough to be her friend.

     I’m blind to her flaws. When I see her, I feel like a tourist glancing at the Mona Lisa, memorizing every curve of her face, the way her hair falls around her shoulders, and the way the library lighting reflects off of her glowing skin.

     What felt like a sledgehammer breaking a slab of fragile glass, I see Y/N’s phone light up. Even across the table I can read the word “Lafayette” off of her phone. I can’t lie, it surely sounds familiar.

     When she finally noticed her phone flash on, I feel her ease turn into worry, and it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by James, Angie, and I. She starts to pack away her books

“My bad guys, I really gotta go”

     Y/N said notably panicking. Her phone flashes once again, yet the only thing that seems to catch my eyes is the bold “7:30” spread across the top of her phone.

“Are you okay by yourself?” I asked, trying my best not to pry into her business

“Yeah, my roommates here to pick me up, I don’t want to make him wait” she tried to play it off, but I’m learning to see right through her

“Alright, see you next time Y/N” I shrug it off

     She sends my friends and I a quick smile before replying

“for sure”

     Angelica and James got back to work without saying a word, and I could tell they were waiting until she was gone to start teasing me. I eased back into my chair before flipping the pages of my notebook

     I watched as she shoved open the library door and disappeared into the darkness. She’s such a mystery, when I feel like she’s opening up, she just shuts the door and we’re back at square one. Though I do claim to love a good challenge, Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

—-

     And that’s when it started. It wasn’t just one time where 7:30 was Y/N magic number, oh no, it was oddly consistent. I’m convinced that Y/N is some variation of Cinderella; her polite attitude and the beautiful little things she does without acknowledging it all vanish when the clock strikes 8:00, but that’s just one of many theories made by James.

     Another study session with James and Angelica, and Y/N’s flashing screen still compelled Y/N to leave the library without a trace. On some occasions we don’t even notice her escape, we just turn to see her seat empty and feel the faint wind from outside as the library door slowly closes.

     One day Angie bought us all tickets to see the preview to the newest, scariest movie I’ve ever watched. I was accompanied by Y/N, James, and Angie, yet their presences made it worse. Halfway through the bucket of popcorn and the movie, Y/N suddenly stood up and left after saying those 5 words. Before she left, I felt the warmth of her hands leave the place on my arm.

I never knew how addicting her warmth would be until it was already gone.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go” The weak smile on her face instantly resonated feelings of sympathy and understanding.

     From then on, Y/N and I grew closer as friends. We’d fool around at a local park before heading to campus, obviously sparking a few observations and remarks from James. I’d invite her to fancy dinners, or maybe even a small festival down the road from my apartment, yet her response would always be proven false at the moment she’d leave me and my thoughts at 7:30.

     But that hasn’t stopped me from attempting to hang out with her. Even on the days I wouldn’t have class with her we’d go out and get ice cream, study at the park, I guess you can say we’ve gone on a few ‘dates’ since our initial study session.

     Whenever we’re apart, I can feel every second expanding to its maximum capacity of time. I wouldn’t see her for a day and it will already feel like years since I’ve seen her. The days I do see her, time seems to maneuver a little too fast. When I recall hanging out with Y/N, all I can imagine is the feeling of floating above the clouds every time she and I made physical contact. Like a rock being dropped into still water, ever touch ripples throughout my body, sending shivers down my spine.

Truly incredible.

—-

     She doesn’t like to talk about her personal life, and I find that quite odd. I’m usually one to continue rambling every detail of every trait of mine, yet I find myself yearning to learn more about her. 

     We text every now and then when we’re outside of class, a little more to be considered ‘just friends’. There’s always a story which unravels just a little more of Y/N’s past, and she’s left me on my own to connect the dots. I must say, she’s definitely an interesting gal, but I know there’s more to discover. 

     She’s a native New Yorker, born and raised, surviving by splitting an intense rent with her mysterious room mate. Y/N doesn’t talk much of her family, other than faint memories of her mother single handedly raising her and her little brother, who I’m fairly unaware of.

     Going into college undecided, Y/N describes her want to learn more about herself before she’s able to make any life determining choices. I’ve noticed that her schedule seems like a labyrinth avoiding life problems and obstacles, so perhaps being placed in the same class coincidentally was just fate playing its part.

     Y/N loves to explain her dream for workless weekends, moments in the week where she just gets to sit back, close her eyes, and breathe a little. With finals starting to appear from thin air, I can’t blame her for a dream so far from reality.

     Even with the knowledge I hold of her, something never seems to change: her disappearances at 7:30.

It’s always that damn 7:30.

     7:30--the cliffhanger your favorite show leaves you desiring for more

     the end of a fun night of laughter and glee, wishing it lasted just a little longer 

     the off-set energy in a room when those around you know something you don’t. 

     As days, weeks, and months pass since my first text proposal to hang out at the library, Y/N and I become a little closer than just friends. It’s been obvious, especially to James and Angie, that Y/N is more than capable of holding my attention.

     Though James is worried that Y/N will just become ‘another girl’ to me, concerning my tomcat nature in the past, he can see the potential I see in her. I find myself wishing I did spend more time with her, maybe I just need to make a better effort.

     I’ll prove James and Angie wrong. 

     Filled with determination and confidence, in the midst of my silent room, I whip out my phone and direct my attention towards forming a text message for Y/N

Thomas: let’s get coffee sometime?

     Jefferson charm, don’t fail me now.

---

     Before I knew it, Y/N and I were feasting on exotic cheeses and aged wine in my New York apartment. I hit play on a random romcom which helps to fill the emptiness in my apartment and ironically the thin space between Y/N and I. 

     I have no idea how to make my move. Though I’m not aware of my competition, I imagine if Y/N could attract someone of My caliber, I should be well aware of the things she’s capable of. Originally I planned to court her-- I know, I know, I’m a man of tradition--yet after James caught on to my recognizable frustration, He suggested I go for it. 

     This is surprising on multiple occasions, especially since James possesses the ‘brains’ between the both of us. Being the chess club champion, ‘talk’ won’t aid you when you're struggling in a chess match. Just like how he meticulously plays chess, he examines my situation and provides his Virginian insight, or so he prefers to call it, and they always proceed the way his scheme describes. 

     I’ve adhered his advice to my life ever since we were kids, and when I didn’t, he’d simply reply with: 

“I told you so” 

     His smug smirk accompanied with a finger pointing to his temple would soon transform from clever to annoying. 

     I feel a vibration come from my pocket. Well, of course it’s not Y/N texting so must I really answer it? I pull out my phone despite my doubts and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

James: 👍

Speak of the Devil.

     But enough about James. I understand that both Y/N and I are mature college students, yet I still fear the disruption in our friendship I can provoke just by making my move. I’ve gotten this far; If she wasn’t interesting I’m sure she would’ve rejected me sooner. 

     She’s different, she’s unique, something about her that I just can’t place, but also something missing. Anyway, this is probably my best chance at shooting my shot at Y/N, and it’s too late now to back down. 

     As my lips part in an attempt to speak and make a move, Y/N’s motionless phone (currently laying undisturbed on my coffee table) suddenly brightens with the most obnoxious ringtone I’ve ever heard. The words “It’s 7:30!” flash on her screen, almost as if it was warning her rather than reminding her. 

“Y/N—” my eyes follow her body as she swiftly stands up

“I gotta g—” I watch as she attempts to grab her purse, yet her body is limited when I firmly grab her arm. She looks back to me with tiredness in her eyes.

     Part of me thought maybe, just maybe, Cinderella here wouldn’t have a curfew. That I somehow would be the exemption to this consistent confusion . But you can only daydream so far into the day until you’re pulled back into your reality

     Her entire demeanor seems like it was reconstructed after her alarm went off. Moments ago she was just enjoying tasty cheese and cheesy movies, and the worst part is, I have no idea why.

“Let me speak, darlin’”

     I stand up to avoid the way her eyes look down on me. I can’t stand that pitiful glare; she looks at me as if I’m a child incapable of understanding her situation, but she’s too stubborn to let me know. I’d be wise to use this time to make a move on different circumstances.

“Now, you’re always leaving at seven thirty..”

     Her sigh is almost enough to interrupt me

“..why’s that? Talk to me.”

     I maintain my eye contact before it’s abruptly broken. She looks everywhere but my eyes, and I wonder where in my apartment she would find an excuse, yet still manages to dodge the question.

“..you wouldn’t understand..” she scoffs almost intentionally, honestly scratching a part of my ego. I hate to admit she’s right, I really don’t understand what’s going on.

     I cock my head to the side. Where’s this coming from?

“Darlin’, I’m sure I’m a very understanding person—”

“—I need to leave”

     I could tell by the look of her face that she wasn’t trying to argue, but it’s inevitable.

“Why can’t you just tell me?..” I put my hands up as a sign of defeat, but I’m not giving up yet. “We’ve been friends for a while and you’re always leavin’ at seven—”

“I know! I know..” she removes my hand from her arm, clearly refusing to look up at me.

“Let’s just say..I got a job..?”

     Oh. That’s what this is all about? A job? She couldn’t spare at least an explanation for a part time gig?

“See? That wasn’t so hard”

“It’s..really embarrassing..” The glance she takes around the room makes me wonder if she’s really telling the truth. it’s not really my place to speculate, there’s no going back from this.

“It’s alright, it’s just a job after all” I claim, trying to get this conversation back on track

“This is exactly what I meant but ‘you wouldn’t understand’”

Huh?

“You don’t know what it feels like to have your life rely on minimum wage—” she sounds like she’s holding something back.

“Y/N wher—”

“A-and here you are makin’ me late for work” her eyes appear on the verge of crying.

“darlin’ look..”

“God, you’ve never had to work for anything in your life!”

Silence.

     Both of us refuse to speak. Y/N phone, still on the table, chimes again. “7:35” it said on its bright screen.

“Is that really how you feel?..” I take a step back to give her space. She still refuses to look at me.

     There’s no way she’d cause all this chaos just because of a job. And even if she believes I’ve piggy backed off of my name for my entire life, why would it matter to her?

“I..I should leave” before I could process what just happened, she swiftly tosses her phone into her bag and heads for the door.

“Y’know, I had a nice time..” was all I heard before the harsh shutting of my apartment door.

     And that was the end of it.

     My first thought after the door shut wasn’t to whip out my phone and attempt to text her, it certainly wasn’t to call James and inform him of his miscalculation, but instead to attend to the matter at hand. This cheese and wine won’t clean itself.

     And the night continued normally, as if nothing had ever taken place. I couldn’t help but microwave another cup of Mac and cheese to cope with what Y/N said. Nothin’ like a good meal to divert your attention away from your problems. But even a good cup of cheese and pasta can’t stop me from thinking’: 

Is that all I am to her?

A southern snob incapable of functioning without their father’s last name?

     After an introspective shower, and a few episodes of a random Netflix show, I’m finally alone with my thoughts and feelings. I lie in darkness, tussling and turning at every occasion, unable to extract her words from my mind. 

     If there’s someone whose opinion I care about the most, it’s Y/N L/N. I consider texting her at this very moment, yet I’m sure that I’m the last person she wants to talk to. The weight of my actions falls heavily onto my shoulders every minute, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Give her space, Jefferson, and maybe you’ll be able to fix this tragedy. 

---

Knock! Knock! Knock!

     The knocks on my apartment door were enough to jerk my body back to consciousness. Sadly pulled from the warmth of my dreams, I’m hit with the cold, noisy reality of an average night here in New York.

Can my day get any worse?

     Coming straight from the depths of slumber, I take a few minutes to process reality. Maybe the knocks were in my head. Did I dream about someone knocking on my door? Perhaps it’s

The sun’s still not up yet, why am I?

     Groggily sitting up, I decide to check the time, yet it takes me multiple attempts to grab my phone in the dark before I catch a sight of the time.

2 am?!

     Who is so out of their minds so show up to my apartment at this time? Who do I know that would show up at this time?

James is too sensible for that,

Angie would never waste her time on me, for whatever reason,

And Y/N—

well.

I don’t know our circumstances right now.

     I debate whether or not I should answer the door. Perhaps it’s just rock that happened to hit the door of my apartment, and even if it is a person, I’m not aware of anyone so mad to show up in the middle of the night. it’s not worth my time.  

...

...

Knock! Knock! Knock!

     So much for ‘Not worth my time’. A groan is all my body can respond with while I gradually stand from the comfort of my bed. I grab the nearest shirt, which was draped over my desk chair, and scramble to put it on. Passing my cramped kitchen, my hands subconsciously flip on the nearest light switches, while my eyes struggle to comprehend the sudden light. 

     Before I reach the door, I couldn’t help but attempt to fix my hair. Just because someone happens to show up outside unannounced doesn’t mean I can’t present my best rendition of a southern gentleman. 

     And finally, through my fatigue and irritation, I’m finally urged to grab the doorknob and twist it open in one motion. 

“Uh, it’s two a.m. so I hope--” 

     I nervously scratch the back of my head, attempting to add spice to this awkward encounter. It wasn’t until my eyes caught sight of the blood dripping down her glass skin and the meeting of our eyes did I have any words

“Y/N?!?”  

     Her cold, pale, and hurt body would’ve hit the concrete floor if I had answered the door any later.

--- 

     And there she layed half colorless on my bed. Her smile was full of embarrassment and gratitude as I sat beside her, tending to the evident cuts and Injured areas of her body. “I hope I’m being a great house guest” she joked, causing her to laugh, yet hurting herself in the process. 

“Hey, Hey, Take it easy..” Y/N’s presence usually fills me with carefreeness, or perhaps stability, but for the first time I can’t help but react seriously. Her demeanor changed as she saw my retaliation to her joke. 

“I guess…” she looked down to her fragile body, a sigh released, seeming to be an attempt to calm down. “...I owe you an explanation for earlier. And especially for showing up at your place at 2 in the damn morning. ” 

     Thomas’ hands, full of wipes and hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton balls, froze in their tracks before he looked up at her, eager to listen and visibly confused. Y/N visibly winced as the cotton balls stuck to her cuts for longer than they should’ve, yet with Thomas’ reflexes at their all-time-max, he pulled them away with a worried expression.

“Explanation? You said you got a job, and I’m sorry for not respecting it..” I continued to clean her up, consensually of course, how could I call myself a gentleman if I were to act upon improper motives? 

“Again..” I utter quietly “..I didn’t know you felt that way, and I’m ashamed you feel that way” 

     I attach an ivory-colored band aid to her glass skin, careful not to damage it any further. I look up to her watching, pitiful eyes. “You were saying?” I reciprocate the attention to her, awaiting a so-called answer to come out of her mouth 

“I didn’t know where else to run to..” she attempted to sit up, lifting her weight off of my satin-covered sheets, yet quickly stopped when being hit with a wave of pain from her right shoulder 

     Though my first thought would’ve been ‘Damn it, my darn sheets are ruined’, it was quickly drawn to Y/N and her current problem 

“Y’know, I think an apology and explanation can wait, Y/N. you need a little sleep, it’s already three in the mornin’ for god’s sake” a small laugh erupts from her

    I sent her an assuring smile, trying to remind her that everything is always going to be okay in a Jefferson household. And surprisingly I received a smile in return, a smile of trust and security that I’ve never felt so glad to see. Of course, I wish I could’ve seen that smile under different circumstances, but I’ll work with what I got. 

     I stood from my beautiful satin sheets and reached for a hoodie on my swivel chair. (everything but your closet is a closet, change my mind) I braced for a cold night on my apartment couch while Y/N enjoys the warmth of my bed, but Y/N had other plans. 

“Wait- Thomas.” She said firmly 

     I turned tiredly to her direction, my arm already extended for the door, yet frozen in place as I awaited a response 

“Can you just..” she scoot herself over, as much as possible with her frail body “..hold me?” She watches me anxiously 

“I mean— you don’t have to b—” I didn’t hesitate at all to gently slide under the sheets of the bed. As soon as I turn to her direction, I can’t help but feel scared to touch her in fear of hurting her; my hands don’t know where to reside. “Where do I..” I’m truly perplexed 

     She giggled at my confusion and shyly grabbed my hand “I’m not so fragile you know” 

     She brought my hand up to the side of her head, and all I could process was the texture of the bandages under my fingertips. I don’t know what's going on, but I couldn’t just leave her out there. 

“..Right..” I wait for her eyes to close before I can even think about closing mine, and soon the texture of the bandages seem to melt onto my fingertips as I’m finally able to return to my slumber. 

“See you in the mornin’..” 

---

     I didn’t wake up until I felt the sun rays kissing my back through my so-called ‘blackout curtains’. Such a scam. The room seemed a little too quiet; I gently turned onto my other side just to find an empty bed. I consider the possibility of last night’s encounter with Y/N was all just some messed up dream, but when I saw the faint stains of blood on my sheets, I knew I was far from dreaming. 

     My body doesn’t want to move, and I’m stuck sitting up in my bed for another ten minutes. What the heck is going on? One minute she yells at me, then next thing I know she’s outside my apartment at 2 am. 

And that explanation. 

     I guess I was such a fool to think she wouldn’t continue to run away from this matter. My thoughts are interrupted by my buzzing phone. I know for sure that it’s not Y/N hittin up my phone right about now. 

James: Let’s try that new coffee place a few blocks from your apartment? 

     He really read my mind, or maybe it’s a response made from calculating my failure yesterday. But a distraction sounds tremendous. 

Thomas: bet. 

     I throw on a cleaner, more professional jacket, if such a thing exists, and swiftly get my feet out the door. Everything seems the same, as if nothing had taken place last night. The world still spins and I’m expected to spin with it. 

I don’t think I’m anywhere near capable of unraveling your mystery. 

Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

#thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson #Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #thomas x reader #alexander hamilton #hamilton fanfic #hamiltonau #Angelica Schuyler #james madison #marquis de Lafayette #lafayette x reader #lafayette #george washington #washington #John Laurens #hercules mulligan #thomas jefferson x reader

[cabaretcal]

it would mean a latte / a.i.

An AU where Ashton works at the campus coffee shop, and you, someone who never even drinks coffee, find yourself wanting to come back to see him...

A/N: Hello babes! I haven’t wrote in a while, but I’m back with this very soft cute AU. This is a part of the 9to5!sos series i started a while back! 

Warnings: None, just a lot of fluff, very cheesy

pairing: Ashton Irwin x reader

Word count: 2.7k

“Kate, I don’t even like coffee. Why would I want to study in a coffee shop?” You follow closely behind your friend, Katie, on the way to the local coffee shop to study for finals. You complained the whole walk to this “super hip coffee shop” that Kate wanted to go to so badly. “I don’t even like coffee, so why would i study here? 

“You can get tea or something, (y/n). Stop complaining!”

You groan at her remark. You usually would just study at the library, but Kate cannot handle having to be quiet in any scenario. That being said, you agree to go to the coffee shop instead. You both walked inside and it was just as you expect: Too loud to study.

You both walked up to the counter, and you had to study the menu for what seemed like forever. What can you get when you hate everything about coffee? The only option is tea. And there’s so many kinds you’ve never even heard of. Chai, english breakfast, London fog, green, mint green, very berry, and more. The amount of teas made you want to pull your hair out. You usually just ordered a sweet tea from mcdonalds. These were all so odd. 

A cheerful, yet calm, male voice filled your ears, “Welcome to Good Coffee! What are we gonna make for you two today?”

You look up at him, and to say you were suddenly interested was an understatement. He had somewhat curly, sandy brown hair. His eyes were a hazel color, and he had a smile that could make someone's day go from a 0 to a 10. 

“I’ll just have a latte without any flavors. She doesn’t like coffee so I don’t know about her.”

The cashier furrows his eyebrows and looks at you with a look of shock, “You don’t like coffee at all? Not even the frappucino shit?”

You blush, stumbling over your words, “I guess I just haven’t had a good kind of coffee before is all. I don’t really know…”

He hums, thinking for a moment, “I’ll surprise you then. If you don’t like it I’ll make you something else. How does that sound?”

You nod shyly, finding it hard to make eye contact. 

He chuckles, taking Kate’s card from her and swiping it.He looks at you, smiling, “I’m Ashton by the way, just so you know.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and you quickly walk away to find a table. You set your backpack down by your chair and open your laptop, attempting to hide your face with it. Katie comes to the table holding the two drinks, setting yours beside you while laughing to herself.

“Stop laughing, Kate! After Ben and I parted ways for college I don’t know how to talk to guys…” You pick up your cup and see something written in sharpie on the sticker label, so you look closer for a better look. 

if you have any questions, here’s my number ;)

You were shocked to say the least. That barista was quite attractive, but you made a terrible first impression, so you were confused as to why he gave you his number. You glanced up at the counter, scanning around for him. You caught sight of him steaming some milk at the espresso machine, and he glanced up and locked eyes with you. He smiled, mouthed ‘call me’, and turned back around to work on the drink.

Looks like Good Coffee is gonna be your new study spot. 

--

You paced around your dorm once again for the 4th day in a row. You put his number in your phone and you had a message drafted out: a simple “hey”. But sending it was the real challenge. He was very nice, and extremely good looking, so you were intimidated. What if it turns out he just wants to hookup? Or what if he was only being nice because that’s his job? What if in reality, he’s an asshole? There were many risks involved, and you were not much of a risk taker. You didn’t go back to Good Coffee with Kate because you were nervous. She has been back everyday since, but it just made you nervous. Your phone dinged with a snapchat video from her. You opened it to see a video of Ashton she sneakily took from the table. He was wearing a collared striped shirt and he was laughing with a coworker. She captioned it, “Text your man before I go tell him you want to hang out myself >:(“. 

You sighed, wanting to reply to him badly. But god, it was just really scary. Ever since you broke up with your past boyfriend from high school, you didn’t have good relationship luck. You went on a few tinder dates, but most of them wanted hookups. You will admit, some of the hookups were really good, but they just weren’t the relationship type. 

Your phone dinged again with a text from Kate, saying “He just finished his shift if you want to come study”. You did have a biology exam in a few days, so studying would be highly beneficial. Defeated, you picked up your backpack, shoved your laptop in it, and walked the short walk to the coffee shop. Once you walked in, you sat across from Kate.

“He asked about you when I ordered. He really wants you to text back-”

“Kate, he wont like me. I’m too awkward and scared. There’s no use.”

The bell for when someone comes in the door chimed, and the voice was familiar, but you weren’t sure why. 

“Forgot my jacket, as per usual.” 

“Ashton, you’re always at work even when your shift ends!”

It was the barista guy. You hid behind your laptop screen, praying he wouldn’t see you. But unfortunately, he saw you. You sat up straight and looked at him, face red from embarrassment as he approached the table.

“I thought you weren’t coming back, miss ‘i don’t like coffee’.”

“Oh, um, you know college… really busy…” You fumbled for your pen, trying to occupy yourself. 

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s just shy.”

Ashton chuckled, closing your laptop, “Well, well, well… now you don’t have to worry about texting me.”

You were slightly hurt. Did he just call you out for not texting him? Was he mad at you?

“How about you stop studying for the day and come get lunch with me? I can pay.”

You were shocked, and couldn’t find the words to say. The way his hair fell in his face was mesmerizing, and you found yourself staring at his hands, your mind wandering.

Kate took the pleasure of answering for you, “(y/n) would love to! I can take her bag back to our dorm. Take all the time you want with her.” She winked at you and your face just got redder.

You stood up, following him out the door nervously and went to find somewhere for lunch.

—

Ashton was quite an interesting guy. He was from Australia and was majoring in music education. He was extremely polite, holding open doors and keeping eye contact during conversation. 

You guys both were walking from the restaurant back to your dorm, “So what about you? Tell me about you now. My life story is boring.”

You hummed, thinking of what to tell him, “Well I moved here to Portland from St Louis. I’m majoring in criminology, and a fun fact about me is that I play piano. I'm not very interesting.”

He shook his head, “I think you’re pretty interesting, babe.”

You blush at the nickname, looking down at your shoes, “Most guys here just want to hook up… they never ask about me.”

“Well, I’m not most guys then.” he laced his fingers with yours, walking the rest of the way to your dorm holding you close to him.

—

“Well, here we are…” You stopped in front of your building, letting go of his hand.

“Wanna meet for breakfast in the morning at one of the dining halls? I don’t work tomorrow… or have classes… because it’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, of course! Um… wanna just meet right here at 9?”

“Yeah that’d be great! Well… have a good night…” He started to walk away, but turned back around. 

You looked at him, slightly confused. What did he want to say?”

He gently put his hands on your waist, kissing you softly and pulling away, smirking, “See you tomorrow morning, gorgeous.”

You watched him walk away, stunned. You smile to yourself, swiping your student ID and going inside. 

—

“Good morning, sunshine.” Ashton greeted you when you walked out of your dorm building, holding out his hand for you to take. 

“Good morning, barista boy.” He laughs at your remark as you take his hand and starts walking to the dining hall. On the way to the dining hall, you pass by the coffee shop. He takes a detour, walking inside.

“I need my caffeine fix, what about you?” He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Ash, I’m not much of a coffee drinker. I don’t know what i’d even get.” 

He thinks for a moment, “How about I make you a drink that reminds me of you, hm? I can make tea or coffee, your choice. Or an Italian soda. But I’m choosing the flavors.”

You think for a moment. He seemed so enthusiastic, so you couldn’t say no, “Make me a tea of some kind I suppose.”

He grinned excitedly, going behind the counter, greeting his coworkers in the process. Watching him make drinks was always so mesmerizing. He was so fast and made intricate latte art. He made his and your drink, saying goodbye to his coworkers and leading you out, handing you your drink.

“What is it?” You took a sip, and it was the most delightful tea you had ever had. This beat McDonalds any day.

“So it’s a tropical green tea over ice, with 2 ounces of lemonade because you’re sweet like lemonade, and one ounce of pineapple because that’s my favorite fruit, and you’re my favorite gal, so it fits!” He giggled at his own comment, causing you to giggle as well. 

“It’s amazing, Ash. Thank you for making me appreciate tea that isn’t from McDonalds.”

He smiled at your comment, walking the rest of the way to the dining hall. He held open the door for you and walked in behind you. You both swiped your dining hall cards and went to pick something to eat. You chose a waffle and some fruit, whereas Ashton went with a more savory option of scrambled eggs. You both sat across from one another at an open table and talked about everything and nothing all at once. He told you about his family in Australia and you told him about your family in St Louis. He talked about his passion for music, and how his family would only let him major in music if it was music education or music production, so he decided he would teach music to kids and give them a love for music, which you thought was just amazing. 

“Wanna come to my dorm? My roommate is at work right now, so we can just hang out and like, listen to music or something.”

“Yeah, definitely!” You both put your plates in the bucket to be washed and left to his dorm.

__

“Well, here’s my dorm. Not very great interior design, but it’s home!” You looked around at his side of the dorm. There was a keyboard, a futon, a nintendo switch on the bed, and an espresso machine on his desk. Even outside of work all he does is make coffee. He picked up his switch and put it on the charging dock, plopping down on the bed and sighing.

“Tired of me already?” You grin, sitting cross legged on the bed facing him. 

“Oh, I could never get tired of you, darling.” He pulled you into him and wrapped his arms around you, yawning softly, “God, I’m exhausted.”

You close your eyes, sighing into his neck, “Take a nap then.’

“No! I wanna hang out with you. I’ll just take a shot of espresso.” He got up and went over to his desk, putting some espresso into the portafilter and putting it in the machine. At first, you thought he was being dramatic and was just making a latte or americano of some sort. But he proved you wrong. He put the shot glasses underneath the portafilter and once he finished pulling the espresso shots, downed them immediately. 

“Ashton! You’re crazy…” “Crazy for you, and espresso. That is absolutely amazing. I feel so awake.”

“How about you make me another drink, hm? Coffee this time.” You gave him puppy dog eyes, practically begging him. 

He shook his head at your resilience, pulling another two espresso shots to make you a drink, “Do you want hot or iced, babe?”

“Hot please, Mr Barista.”

He chuckled, getting in his mini fridge and pulling out a small thing of milk and pouring it in the metal pitcher. He put the steam wand in and started steaming the milk, making it the consistency for a latte. You stared, mesmerized at his abilities. He grabbed one of the two mugs from the desk and poured in the espresso shots, then poured the milk in a circular motion first and then poured it closer to the top of the cup and wiggled it slightly, making a delicate design on the top. It was way too perfect to drink to say the least.

“I have a medium latte for a pretty lady in my dorm? Is she around?” He grinned at you, handing it to you carefully to avoid burning you.

“Thank you, Ash, but you made it too perfect to drink!” You giggled, admiring his latte art.

“Not as perfect as you! That was very cheesy, but I stand by the statement, darling.”

“You might have just made lattes my new favorite thing, and i used to not even like coffee.”

“I’ll make you lattes until all of the espresso in the world runs out.”

__

You found yourself at Good Coffee almost everyday. You’d always have Ashton make you a surprise drink, and every time you walked in his eyes would light up. He'd finish the current drink he was making as fast as possible so he could talk to you. On the third week of your Good Coffee addiction, you once again ordered a surprise drink.

“Surprise again for you, darling?”

“You know it, Mr Barista.” You smiled at him, but you were growing worried he wasn’t as into you as you thought. You had been talking for about a month and he hasn’t made any moves or anything. Did you get your hopes up too soon? You tended to do that a lot.

“It’s on me today.”

You took the five dollar bill you were gonna pay with and put it in the tip jar, smiling at him warmly. But you were still extremely paranoid. You went down to the pick-up counter and waited for your drink, thoughts invading your mind. 

“Vanilla latte for (y/n)!”

You picked up the to go style cup and went to sit down, and you noticed some writing in sharpie on the side of the cup. Ashton didn’t usually leave notes, so what was it?

It would mean a latte to me if we could make it official :)

You smiled the biggest smile, looking at him to find him smiling at you, expectantly waiting for an answer.You nod, and he runs from behind the counter and kisses you on the cheek, “Come to my dorm after my shift for more coffee, yeah?” He winks, going back behind the counter. Who would’ve thought you would fall for the campus barista?

____

Taglist: @ukulelecal​ @blahehblah​

#ashton irwin #5sos ashton #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin blurb #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 second of summer imagines #5sos fic #5sos blurb #5sos one shot #9to5!sos #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin x oc

[themaninflannel]

Routine part 4 of the Inevitable

Summary: dean gets laid (a lot) and it bothers Y/N, Y/N and sam work on their issues. Y/N tells him something while Dean is *cough* a little busy *cough*

Warnings: suggestive content, swearing, emotions, slow burn

Word count:~1500

part 1, part 2, part 3

“YOU’RE NOT HUNTING. END OF STORY,” Dean shouted at me.

“FUCK THAT, I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT,” I shouted back. This had been going on for a while now.

“No, you can’t! You would be killed in a heartbeat!”

“So teach me! If you teach me I won't die!”

“I’m not letting you hunt!” he slammed his hands down on the table in my dingy motel room.

“Oh my god!” I fell down onto the bed and threw my hands up in the air. “‘Let’?! You’re not ‘letting’ me?! You are not in control of me! I am an adult, I am not your pet!”

“That’s not...not what I meant. Look, it’s not your world and I don't want you getting hurt!” he said, exasperated.

“Not my world?! Oh yeah, the supernatural is no place for an empath like me,” I said sarcastically.

“We have been going in circles for hours!” he collapsed into one of the wooden chairs.

“Exactly! Just suck it up and accept the fact that you’re not getting rid of me!” I sat up and gestured at him.

“I don't want to get rid of you! I just don't want you to get hurt!”

“I won't!”

“Fine! But research only.” He pointed at me definitively.

“For now,” I challenged. He got up and walked out, slamming the door behind him. I assumed he was going to go find a bar or go find a chick to hook up with so I locked the door behind him and started to look for cases.

A few hours later, I heard the sound of the impala rolling up in front of the motel. Hoping it was just Dean, I listened to see if he had brought someone home with him but when I heard a woman’s laughter going into the room next to mine I knew he wasn't alone. By the time I heard Sam grumble his way to Dean’s door I was comfortably settled in watching a show. Since I thought Sam wouldn't want to walk in on Dean in the throws of it, I popped my head out of my door.

“Hey sam,” I called, trying to get his attention.

“What’s up?”

“You might not want to go in there for a bit, Dean brought a woman back with him,” I warned.

“Oh, thanks,” he said dejectedly.

“If you need somewhere to crash, there’s an extra bed in my room,” I offered and he followed me inside.

“Thanks,” he said as he put his papers and stuff he got from the library down. He went to take a shower and before he was out I had fallen asleep on top of the covers.

Over the next few weeks that became routine: when Dean had someone in his room, Sam would crash with me. Although at the beginning Sam really didn't like me, he eventually grew pretty fond of me and I started to see him as this giant younger brother/best friend. We usually talked about our past or researched or worked out together, but one night we got to talking about something else.

“Sam,” I called from my doorway, in a monotone voice.

“Again? That’s like three times this week,” he joked as he walked into my room.

“Ha, yeah..” I acknowledged.

“Hey, you ok? You seem sad.” I could tell he was concerned but this was something I couldn't let him know. If he found out I had feelings for his brother, I was sure it wouldn't be long before Dean knew too.

“What? No. I'm fine! You want to do research or watch a show?” I tried to play it off and sat cross-legged on one of the beds.

“Come on, Y/N. I know something's up, what’s going on? You can tell me anything,” he came over and put his arm around my shoulders.

“Really, I’m ok. So, what do you think we're hunting?” He gave me a look but let me change the subject. We sat surrounded by papers and our laptop screens showed about a billion different sites while we were trying to figure out what keeps killing these men.

“Hey, you want a beer?” he asked, standing in front of the fridge.

“No, I’m-” I was cut off my the sounds coming from Dean’s room. I visibly flinched at the noise. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll....I’ll be back.” I quickly rushed to close the door behind me. I stood there with my back against the door and tried to catch my breath. I knew it was lame to be this upset over Dean hooking up with so many people, especially when he obviously didn’t feel the same. It’s just not fun to listen to.

“You sure you don't want a beer?” Sam asked through the door.

“Nope, I’m good!” I said cheerfully when I came out, and took my place on the bed again.

“Ok..?” he said clearly confused, “So you have a thing for Dean, huh?”

“Come again?!” I feigned disbelief, pulling my sleeve down over the mark on my wrist that proved my feelings about Dean.

“That's why you’re grumpy tonight, you don't want to see him hooking up with anyone other than you!” he said excitedly.

“You cannot tell him! Please!” I begged. Sam already knew so I wasn't even gonna try to convince him he was wrong.

“I’m not going to, but you know you could have told me,” he rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Yeah right, I still don't believe you’re not going to tell him.”

“Hey, I made a promise, and I keep those,” he said as he took my arm and raised my sleeve uncovering the dark red mark. “So that’s what you’re always trying to hide.”

“Makeup and long sleeves. It’s what I’ve been doing since I was 18.”

“So wait, you’ve had the hots for my brother since you guys met? And you’ve never done anything about it?” he seemed shocked that I had been able to keep it to myself all these years.

“I mean, when we met I knew he wasn't going to be around for very long. And since he got back from Hell, I’ve just been trying to get back to being as close as we used to. Plus this life isn't one for relationships, and I would want more than a hookup.”

“I see, I think.”

“Just go with it, but for real this time: we HAVE to find out what we’re hunting.”

It went on like that for a few more weeks until we all decided to blow off some steam at a local bar. Usually, I wouldn't go with them, but I was sick of being cooped up. Between constant research and training with Sam, I was sore and tired and I wanted something stronger than a beer. We picked the closest bar that didn't give us all the creeps. Once we got there, we found a table and ordered our drinks when a waitress found us.

“Hey Sugar, I'll have a whiskey,” Dean flirted at the waitress.

“Ok, one whiskey for asshole over here, anything for you guys?” she turned from Dean with a frown.

“Gigantor will have a beer and I will have a vodka tonic, thank you,” I said with a smile.

“Sounds good, darling,” she said to me and walked away swinging her hips.

“Whoa-ho, look at you go. Y/N gettin in the game!” Dean teased. I could feel the blush creeping up my face.

“It’s about time,” Sam said and I shot him a look.

“Alright guys, shut up,” I scolded them and of course they didn't shut up, but that was ok because throughout the night she and I kept flirting and the boys eventually ate their words.

“Hey gorgeous, I think we’re ready for the bill,” I said when she came around again.

“On its way,” she winked as she walked back up to the bar. When she came back she handed me the bill with her number on the back. “I get off in ten minutes if you want to wait around?”

“Bye, boys!” I called over my shoulder as I followed her to the back. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the boys exchange jealous looks and walk out of the bar.

“So, my place or yours?” she asked between kisses.

“Yours. The guys are at mine,” I gasped when she kissed my neck. We got an uber back to her place where I spent the night. When I got back to the motel, I went to my room first and took a shower and changed clothes. Once  I had made sure I looked like I hadn't just woken up, I went over to the boys’ room.

“Wel,l there she is! Our little stud!” Dean clapped as I walked through the door.

“Alright, alright, alright! Enough already, I hooked up, so what?” I sat down and we started to research. Every now and then, they would say something about last night, but overall it was just a normal day. Which was nice cause i wasn't sure how the boys would react to me hooking up with a girl, cause ya’know there's a difference between being ok with it in theory and actually seeing it happen, but they seemed chill about it so i feel better about being myself around them.

Tag list:

@jchona, @aoise-fandom-clover, @barricade-ghost, @lilsunshine44, acreativelydifferentlove,

#the inevitable #Dean x reader #dean x you #reader insert #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #slow burn fic #slow burn romance #dean winchester #dean imagine #dean one shot #supernatural fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural