#Salt Spring Coffee | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

januaryembrs · 1 year ago

Text

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but think he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?

Length: 8k

Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.

main masterlist.

author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!

He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression.

He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul.

Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl.

Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.

“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”

She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek.

She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.

Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal.

“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie.

“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not.

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before.

“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his.

“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,”

She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them.

“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”

She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,”

But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t.

“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word.

Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him.

“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I’m dying for the good stuff,”

Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.

Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil.

For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.

–

Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together.

Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice.

Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.

Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning.

“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”

He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask.

“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee.

“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her.

“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,”

“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore.

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable.

“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating.

Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel.

Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue.

“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question.

His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?”

Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly.

“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him.

“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror.

“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy.

“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her.

“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her.

“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague.

“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”

He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that.

He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.

And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor.

The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning.

They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive.

“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house.

The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“

“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?”

“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud.

But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features.

“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole.

Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified.

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it.

“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,”

“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified.

She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window.

“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?”

He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would.

He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.

Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.

“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”

“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.

“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you’d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”

Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it.

“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”

“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.

“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”

“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”

“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”

“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”

She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.

–

They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of.

And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.

She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.

“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”

“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.

She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.

“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”

“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies.

She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face.

“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.

“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.

“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”

Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”

“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love.

“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”

JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.

Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”

She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.

The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.

“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.

“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”

Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.

But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.

He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.

—

It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.

In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.

It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.

“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.

“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,”

Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.

“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”

“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”

And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.

They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?

Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.

She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft.

“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.

“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.

“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too.

Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.

“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.

“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”

He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response.

“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.

“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”

“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months.

Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”

“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.

“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem.

Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him.

“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time.

He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world.

“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”

“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips.

“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,”

“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”

Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.

“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.

He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground.

“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”

She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped.

“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?”

He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?”

She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.

“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?”

He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.

“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.

“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”

Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right.

He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.

He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.

He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.

“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”

Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.

“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.

And she believed him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

5K notes · View notes

southernimpala · 25 days ago

Text

big distraction

sam winchester x fem!reader

summary ↬ sam needs to distract you long enough for dean to decorate for your birthday, and he chooses the best way possible

notice ↬ birthday smutttt (mdni !) whoop whoop !!, promised some bday smut so here ya'll go, can't believe im 19 now eeeee, oral (f!recieving), unprotected p!v, sam is pussy drunk btw, birthday fluff !, no use of y/n, lowercase intended !

wordcount ↬ 2.5k

birthdays were never your thing. and they weren’t a hunter’s thing, either. always being on the road, never knowing if you’d even live another trip around the sun. it all seemed superficial and unnecessary to celebrate.

so when sam and dean find out your birthday is today, you beg them to keep quiet about it.

“no candles and cake?” dean jokes, nudging your shoulder in the booth of an old diner you were getting breakfast at, “or special birthday pancakes?” you see him point to the birthday special written in cursive letters on the sticky menu.

“no,” you solidify, taking a warm sip of coffee, “being alive and with you idiots is enough.”

your boyfriend, sam, who's sitting across from you forking his eggs, shakes his head but stays quiet, like he’s planning a surprise attack behind your back.

you don’t notice him catch dean’s eye as you read over the check, or see them scouting potential places to buy party decorations while you drive to the motel—yes, you insisted to drive baby—and you certainly don’t hear them whispering to each other as you lose yourself in a book on the weirdly comfortable mattress that is probably twice your age.

when dean comes back from an outing later that night—“just talking to potential witnesses,”—he said, totally suspiciously, you’re eyes run down his arm to him carrying inside the large duffle bag he keeps in the trunk, full of salt guns and holy water.

you sit up straighter in your seat against the bed frame, suddenly alert, but sam makes no moves, “what’s wrong, why are you—”

“just would rather have these closer to us,” he rushes quickly, a lopsided smile on his face, dropping the duffle like it doesn’t weigh a ton on the gross motel carpet, giving sam a ‘am i doing okay?’ look that has your brows furrowing.

“dean, can i see you in private?” sam says through gritted teeth, nodding to the bathroom.

dean sends him an awkward grin, nodding before they both disappear behind the off white door. in an instant, you’re pressed up against it, ear turned on the highest setting you can, trying to hear through the loud AC unit and buzz of cars outside the open window.

although, you don’t have to listen too hard. the two of them are so loud, you wonder whether you could’ve stayed sat on the bed.

“alright, here’s the plan, you stay here and set up—i’ll distract her.” sam’s voice.

“why do i have to decorate? the cake’s probably smushed in the damn duffle—”

“just let me handle it, okay?”

“i’m gonna need twenty minutes.”

“it takes you that long to frost a cake and put up a sign—”

“thin ice, sammy.”

you imagine sam’s face and try to swallow a laugh, but the revelation that they’re planning a surprise for you is enough to knock your world off its axis. even though you told them not to fuss, there’s something pure about them doing this for you. something the three of you could use in the midst of the chaos of your lives.

“how are you distracting her? gonna take her into town or something?” dean’s voice.

“i don’t know, maybe, i—”

“no,”

“dean—”

“you’re not having sex in my car.”

your face burns.

“dean, i didn’t—”

“i saw that look!”

your palm comes to cover your mouth, stifling another burst of amusement.

“let me take care of it alright? you just focus on hanging the sign up the right way.”

you hear shoes shuffling against the bathroom tile, and you spring up quick to settle yourself back comfortably on the bed.

the door opens and sam meets your eye, “dean thinks he left something in the car,” he says, as if you’re stupid. the inside of your cheek is shredded so you don’t smile.

“alright,” you throw the book down onto the floral duvet beneath you, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, “shall we?”

both boys’ faces crease in confusion at your compliance. but nonetheless, you follow sam outside as he sweeps the impala’s keys off the table.

once outside, you find it hard to keep your hands off him, rubbing your palms up his arms as he walks you to the parking lot, anxious to surprise him.

when sam shuts the car door, you’re on him in a second, pouncing like a cat onto his lips. he melts instantly into your taste, like every plan and course of action he thought to distract you vanishes from his mind. his large hand comes to cup your cheek, soft under his calloused touch, and you’re moaning at the sensation of his fingers tangling in your hair.

sam pulls from you just slightly to murmur, “you beat me to it.”

his voice, husky with desire, has you squirming in the rough leather seats, aching for his touch to cover you everywhere, and you feel giddy knowing it will, “how else am i supposed to celebrate my birthday?”

a warm chuckle breathes past his lips, swollen and pink, “i thought you didn’t wanna celebrate it?”

you smirk, moving to place chaste kisses along his jaw and down the veins of his neck, eliciting a sultry laugh from him that makes you never want to stop, “i think i can allow this.”

“think or know?” he teases, savoring the pleasure building in his body, fueling a fire only you know how to control, how to burn hotter.

sam’s hands grip your waist at the sensation of your mouth trailing across his skin. with your nose buried in the crook between his shoulder, you smell the fresh soap, old lore books, and something spicy like aftershave as it fills your brain like fog. he rests his cheek on the crown of your head, reveling in your lips for another moment before he’s gently laying you down in the backseat, your legs spreading like muscle memory as he nestles between them.

his fingers slowly hike the white sundress you’re wearing up your legs, making sure to just barely graze your thighs. wetness starts to pool in your center as he recaptures your mouth on his, heavy breaths and gasping moans as his hands trail higher up your body beginning to fill the impala.

“will dean be mad?” you mumble against him, eyes closed in bliss as he palms one of your breasts, “—that we’re doing it in his baby?”

sam laughs mischievously, knowing damn right what the answer is but at this point, you’re both too far gone to stop, and the bulge pressed against your inner thigh, just missing where it needs to be, confirms that for you.

“he won’t mind,” he says, sighing as you start to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, revealing his taut abs and broad chest, adorned with the anti possession tattoo that has your mouth watering.

“oh, he won’t, will he?” you help him shrug the rest of his shirt off while he un-patiently starts to tug your panties down, “pretty, right?”

“so pretty,” he smiles, but tosses them to the side like they’re nothing but a useless barrier between him and the paradise between your legs that’s his, catching them on the steering wheel,“and no, he won’t mind.”

before you can protest again, he’s delving into your pussy, slick and warm with your primal need for him. his tongue moves in agonizing circles up and down your folds, making you writhe and grip his soft locks in your hands to keep you grounded to earth.

but when he sucks your clit past his lips, you’re sure you see heaven.

“sam!” you shriek, bucking your hips into his face as his chin dampens. you feel his smirk against you, he can taste the way you fall apart, but the pressure doesn’t let up.

“mmm, taste’s so good,” he mumbles drunkenly, fingers pressing imprints into your thighs as he holds them down beside his head.

you throw your head back against the back window, trying to ignore the little voice in your head yelling, “you’re in a motel parking lot and anyone can see you if they just—” but the white hot pleasure that explodes from your body as he flicks his tongue right there removes any thoughts other than your need to have him inside you, to give you something to clench around as you jolt and ache.

his name falls from you like a prayer, one he answers faster than god as his pants are off and boxers pulled down before you can even open your eyes.

you manage to get a glimpse of him as he pumps himself a few times, the length you’ve taken oh so many times now a gift that seems too perfect for such a meaningless birthday. but when he pushes into you, hot, sweaty, skin against yours, it’s hard to see how you can’t celebrate the day after this.

“god, yes,” you moan into his ear when he leans down, chest against yours to be as low under the window as possible.

his eyes clench shut in pleasure, “fuck, you f-feel so good,” he sputters, because all he can focus on is the way you’re squeezing him.

sam moves like he was made to fit in you, hitting that spot inside you everytime that has you see stars. even now, as he struggles against the urge to drive into you so hard your legs will need days to recover, he’s gentle, soft, as he stretches and kisses and worships.

the impala shakes and rocks underneath you, and you’re sure if it wasn’t 9:00pm on a tuesday, you’d probably be caught by now; windows fogging and the occasional pop up of sam’s hair through the glass when he lifts up to watch himself disappear in you because he just can’t help it. he throbs at the sight and you feel it deep in your core, pressing your climax faster.

“‘mmm, best b-birthday ever—” you mumble, your words harshly cut with a whiny moan when sam’s idle fingers come to toy with your clit, “jesus christ!”

“not quite,” he gasps a laugh, “oh, fuck,”

your vision blanks. the coil snaps. pussy squeezes so tight sam can barely move.

and the impala seats? soaked.

sam follows close behind, hips stuttering, soft lips parted all the way as your name slips off his tongue, dripping with the taste of you. you swallow his moan, his whine, as he fills you, still pumping through both your highs.

your pussy leaks his warmth. you catch him staring.

“make sure it doesn’t get on the seat!” you worry, starting to sober up.

you can tell he isn’t all the way back to earth, so he drunkenly smiles, “i think we’re past that point, baby.”

as you fix the straps of your dress, sam reaches behind the seat for a rag to wipe the leather, probably the cloth dean keeps in the car in case of oil spills or, well, this.

your legs shake as you step out of the impala, suddenly feeling overexposed and like everyone in the motel was watching somehow. sam’s throws his clothes on, his princess hair barely fixed with puffed lips that match yours.

you try to catch your breath as the wind whispers against your sticky skin, “think dean’s done decorating the room?”

sam’s eyebrows furrow for a moment before lifting them in realization, mind blanking, “u-um, how did you—”

“kinda hard to keep a secret when you both talk so loud,” you nudge his shoulder playfully, unusual butterflies spreading through your stomach as you anticipate the surprise waiting for you inside, “it was a good effort, though.”

“and that’s why you—” jumped my bones, he wants to say, but he knows you know already, “i’m gonna get you,” he promises, grinning crooked at the way you outplayed them, “your next birthday, the surprise is mine.”

“sure, sammy,” you wink, fishing the key out of his back pocket before unlocking the door.

as if on cue, dean, who is by the bedside lamp, flicks it on to expel the darkness and reveal an unevenly hung HAPPY BIRTHDAY sign in holographic letters strung up on the wall above the beds, stuck messily with duct tape. there’s a mixtape on the duvet with birthday girl’s birthday mix written on the top, paired with a dollar store bow dean’s slapped on, and a few books stacked together that you can only assume is sam’s gift.

the cake on the end table, with messy chocolate icing that’s also all over dean’s fingers, is what sends tears teasing your waterline.

“surprise!” he shouts, waving his hands in the air.

sam shakes his hand against his throat, mouthing, ‘she knows’ behind you.

dean narrows his eyes at his brother, rolling them and throwing his arms up, “really, sam? you couldn’t even keep the surprise?”

that forces a watery laugh out of you, cheeks flushed and heart warm, “it’s fine, it’s fine, dean, this is—”

“awesome, right?” he finishes, that shit eating grin right back where it belongs on his scruffy face.

“yeah,” you agree, instinctively leaning against sam’s chest, “it’s awesome.”

sam’s hands come tight on your forearms, rubbing gently to soothe the emotions he knows you’re trying to bite back. your lip wobbles between your teeth as dean reaches for the cake.

“maybe i could get behind none of that gross birthday special pancake crap,” he hands you the cake, which is resting on a flimsy paper plate while he fishes for the lighter in his pocket, “but no candles and cake? sweetheart, that’s just unacceptable.”

dean reaches to switch the lamp back off, the room consumed in pitch black again, save for the moonlight emitting little light through the dingy curtains. the small, orange flame stemming from his lighter illuminates all three of your faces as he burns the tip of the pink candle, mumbling a ‘there we go’ as he flicks the lighter back off.

“make a wish,” sam says softly as he stands behind you.

you shut your eyes, make your wish, and blow.

dean starts to clap. sam’s touch is grounding.

“happy birthday, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, just for you.

when the lights come back on, and dean uses a machete to cut the cake, he notices sam trying to fix the lopsided buttons on his shirt, that was very hastily thrown back on.

what you didn’t realize he’s also looking at, is the medium sized hickey on sam’s neck.

“soooo,” dean starts, trying not to make his starting obvious, “i thought she was the only one supposed to get presents today.”

sam’s forehead creases. you look up from the cake you're actively stuffing in your face.

“what do you—” sam follows dean’s finger to the mirror, where the purple bruise you gifted him rests tenderly on his soft skin, “oh.”

dean chuckles, shaking his head in contempt, “what kinda distraction did you give her?”

sam’s too flustered to speak, so you swallow the smooth chocolatey goodness down your throat and answer for him.

“a big distraction.”

let’s just say you and sam weren’t allowed near the impala by yourselves for a long time.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ tags ↬ @h8aaz , @sacr1ficialang3l <33

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ sam winchester masterlist !

870 notes · View notes

catchmeonyourceiling · 16 days ago

Text

୨ৎ ― thank you for the tag - @bvrnesher

coffee or tea || early bird or night owl || sandalwood or lemongrass || spring or fall || silver or gold || pop or alternative || freckles or dimples || snakes or spiders || mountains or fields || thunder or lightning || norse mythology or greek mythology || green or red || flute or guitar || ruby or diamond || butterflies or honeybees || cake or cookies || typewritten or handwritten || secret garden or secret library || rooftop or balcony || spicy or mild || concert or theater || london or paris || van gogh or monet || petrichor or sea salt || denim or leather || chatter or music || forest or desert || dragons or unicorns || masquerade ball or yuletide party || violence or heartbreak || hugs or kisses || bergamot or lilac

୨ৎ ― tags - @the-bo1ter @mysummerchild @auntiejohn @whoo0sh @jjsblueberry @xoxoivy13 @luvrism777 @sophiaurora + anyone else!

#tagged ᯓ★

301 notes · View notes

loveletters2myself · 7 months ago

Text

gift ideas —

personalized leather journals

hand sculpted chess set

spring water subscription

niche coffee table book

anything Le Creuset

red light therapy lamp

massage gun

glass teacup strainer

mechanical juice press

specialty dates

spice set

sourdough starter

100% wool pillow

wine with a sentimental year

beautiful cheese set

tallow cream

natural material bedding and linen

niche bottles of olive oil

rare raw honey varieties

beeswax candles

homemade bone broth

beautiful porcelain sets

real cacao

organic vanilla paste

royal jelly

water filters for showers and faucets

natural liquid soap

copper butter dish

books, books and more books!

stainless steel cookware set

bison socks for winter

end grain cutting board

natural chewing gum

marble salt cellar

butter mold set

#📌

319 notes · View notes

pankowcrumbs · 1 month ago

Text

All Along X Max Verstappen (Requested)

Request: Max Verstappen x Reader The Reader is a childhood friend and Max finally realizes he loves her.

MasterList

F1 Masterlist

Max's POV-

I’ve known Y/N since I was eight.

We met at a karting circuit in Belgium her dad was mates with my dad, and she was sat on the tyre wall swinging her legs and eating crisps, not caring one bit about the race happening around her. I thought she was strange at first, all quiet confidence and crooked pigtails, but when she looked up and asked if I’d won with a smirk, I instantly wanted to impress her.

We were inseparable after that.

Every race meet, every off-season, every awkward teenage summer I can trace every chapter of my life and find her there, etched somewhere in the margins. She’s the first person I text after qualifying, the only one who can get away with calling me a sore loser, and the one who knows how I take my coffee even when I forget.

But I never thought of her like that.

Or maybe I did. I just didn’t realise it.

Not until much later.

Not until the little things started stacking up.

It started with the way she wore my hoodie.

That old navy Red Bull one I’d left in Monaco last spring. She’d thrown it on after getting caught in the rain, sleeves swallowing her hands, hood half up, smelling like my aftershave. She didn’t even ask just wore it like it was hers.

Something about the way it fit her made something strange twist in my chest.

Then there was that time in Austin when she fell asleep on my shoulder during the post-race dinner. Everyone else was laughing, drinking, eating ribs, and she just dozed off like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I didn’t move for a full hour.

Didn’t want to wake her.

Didn’t want the moment to end.

I told myself it was normal. She was my best friend.

But slowly, quietly, things shifted.

I started noticing the way she laughed, loud and unfiltered, especially when she made me laugh. I started noticing the little things she did like how she always carried bandaids in her bag because I always got blisters from new boots, or how she knew when to leave me alone after a bad session, and when to stay even when I told her not to.

There was a day in Barcelona, early morning, golden sun catching in her hair as she leaned against the pit wall, chatting to the mechanics. She was glowing, like some golden-hour dream, and I caught myself staring.

Hard.

Cheeks warm, heartbeat off-beat.

That was the first time I thought, shit…

But I still didn’t say anything.

Didn’t do anything.

It wasn’t until Silverstone that it hit me full force.

It was the Saturday before the race. We were in the Red Bull motorhome me, her, my mum, and dad. She was laughing about something my dad had said, and the sound filled the room like sunlight.

She was just… there.

Like she’d always been.

Hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing my team shirt again because she “couldn’t be arsed packing properly”, one leg tucked under the other as she sipped her tea and chatted with my parents like she belonged.

And she did.

She always had.

I watched her as she threw her head back laughing at something my mum said, eyes crinkling at the corners, and something inside me just clicked.

It was her.

It had always been her.

Through the podiums, the travel, the pressure, the circuits and trophies. It was always her I wanted to come home to. Her who understood the world behind the headlines. Her who stayed. Who got me.

Not because of who I was, but in spite of it.

And I realised I was in love with my best friend.

I was completely, entirely, stupidly in love with her.

I didn’t say anything that day.

I couldn’t.

What was I meant to say?

“Hey, Y/N, by the way, I think I’m in love with you. Pass the salt”?

So, I kept it to myself.

But once you realise something like that, you can’t un-realise it.

It changes everything.

The way I looked at her.

The way I listened when she talked.

The way my whole body leaned towards her without thinking.

She’d touch my arm while talking and I’d feel it for hours. She’d call me “Maxie” when she was teasing and my stomach would flip like I’d just gone through Eau Rouge blindfolded.

And she had no idea.

Because to her, I was just Max.

The same one who once cried after losing a kart race at 11. The one who helped her sneak out of her house to watch a meteor shower at 2am when we were 15. The one who’d always been there. Her mate.

The thought of ruining that paralysed me.

But the thought of never telling her?

Worse.

It came to a head in Monza.

We’d gone out for dinner just the two of us, like always. Pasta, wine, too much bread, and conversation that flowed like we were the only two people in Italy. She was wearing this green dress, nothing fancy, but she looked… beautiful.

Undeniably.

She laughed, wiping sauce from her lip, and looked up at me with those eyes.

And I thought, I have to tell her.

I have to.

But I chickened out again.

Walked her back to the hotel, hugged her goodnight too long, and said nothing.

I couldn’t sleep that night.

I was a world champion, for god’s sake.

I could overtake at 300kph with a centimetre to spare but I couldn’t tell the girl I loved that I was in love with her.

It wasn’t until a week later, after Japan, that I cracked.

We were in the garage packing up. She was wearing a team jacket three sizes too big and talking to my race engineer about something I couldn’t hear. I was stood nearby, pretending to scroll through my phone, when she turned and caught me looking.

She smiled.

I smiled back.

And in that moment, I knew.

If I didn’t tell her soon, I’d regret it forever.

So I did.

I waited until we were back in Monaco. Until we were sitting on the balcony of my apartment, overlooking the sea, with beers in hand and bare feet on the railing. The moon was out. She looked relaxed. Happy.

“Y/N,” I said quietly.

She looked over. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

She sat up a little. “Everything okay?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Silence.

My heart thundered in my chest.

She blinked. “You think?”

I gave a breathless laugh. “No. I know. I’m sorry it took me this long. I just every time I look at you, it makes sense. Everything. You make sense.”

She was staring now, eyes wide.

And then she smiled.

Soft. Slow. Like the sun rising.

“Max…” she whispered.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I rushed. “I just needed you to know. If it ruins things, I’ll deal with it. I just couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

She set her beer down.

Then she reached for my hand.

And laced our fingers together.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“I didn’t want to be the one to ruin it either. But I’ve felt it, too. For a while now.”

Relief. Shock. Something electric bloomed in my chest.

“Really?” I breathed.

She leaned forward and kissed me.

Soft and sure.

And in that moment, everything fell into place.

Like it was always meant to.

Like it had always been her.

All along.

#fanfiction #reader #x reader #one shot #requested #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female oc #verstappen #max

166 notes · View notes

thecupidwitch · 1 year ago

Text

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

#thecupidwitch #witchcraft #witchblr #witchcore #witch community #witches #witch #grimoire #book of shadows #baby witch #beginner witch #witchy #pegan #peganism #chaos witch #magic #magick #wiccablr #wicca

870 notes · View notes

bunny-claws · 14 days ago

Text

types of spells and ideas for methods of casting [long post]

attracting

fill a small jar with honey and add a written statement of intent to the jar - seal and set the jar in direct sunlight to manifest your intent

stir your morning coffee or tea in a clockwise motion while focusing on the intent of what energies you wish to attract for the day

fill a jar with herbs and crystals that represent what you want to attract and add a statement of intent

charge a crystal and wear on your person to attract certain energies

create a sigil and either draw it on yourself or on paper and keep in your pocket

create a talisman, charge it, and wear it to attract various energies

banishing

take an item that represents what you wish to banish and: throw it in the trash, flush it down the toilet, burn it, bury it, drown it

burn the item and sweep the ashes out the back door or bury them

carve the name of what you want to banish into a black candle and let it burn down completely - bonus points if the candle is anointed with herbs or a binding oil

transmute negative energy into a stone (preferably a black stone like onyx) and throw it over the fence in your backyard (or whichever direction is south in reference to your home)

stir your morning coffee or tea in a counter-clockwise motion while focusing on the intent of what energies you wish to banish for the day

using incense that is associated with banishing negative energy, walk around your space in a counter-clockwise motion with the lit incense in your hand

binding and sealing

wrap a string around a poppet or other representation of the target or item you wish to bind

put the poppet or other representation in a plastic bag filled with water and freeze it

place the item in a black box and seal it - store in a dark place or bury the box in your backyard

write the item you want to bind on paper and seal with wax - keep safe until the bond is broken

perform a tie-breaking spell

blessing and consecrating

anoint an object with holy or blessed water/oil

use spring water to bless objects

place the object in a dry bath of herbs or flowers that are known for blessing

pass the object through incense smoke that is associated with blessing

use a censer to consecrate a place or a room

cleansing

leave the item in the path of direct moon, sun, or starlight

place in a dry bath or herbs or flowers that are associated with cleansing

place the item in a bowl of sea salt

pass the item through incense smoke that is associated with cleansing

pass the item through running water

anoint the item with a cleansing oil or charged water

bury the item in soil for 3 days so it may be “reborn” when unearthed

place a cleansing crystal on top of or next to the item

hang a wind chime outside of your home to negate negative energies before they have the chance to enter your home

physically clean and freshen your space - dust, mop, open the windows and let some fresh air inside (you can view this as an "out with the old and in with the new" situation)

cursing

fill a poppet with baneful herbs and crystals, seal it, and store in a black box

add baneful herbs and crystals to a jar with a piece of paper that states the target’s name or a description of them and seal it

create a poppet or other representation of the target and destroy it (commonly by burning)

utilize martian or saturnian energy for baneful magic

stab the poppet with pins and needles

curse an item and "gift" it to the target

dreams and sleep

fill a sachet with herbs associated with restful sleep and peaceful dreams and hang above your bed

place the sachet under your pillow

wash your bedsheets and sleep clothes with a few drops of lavender or chamomile essential oil

alternately, choose fabric softener that is lavender scented to wash your sheets or sleep clothes with

create a sigil for peaceful dreams or dream recall, charge under the light of the moon, and place it under your pillow before you go to sleep

utilize lunar or neptunian energy in dreamwork

mugwort, peppermint, or valerian root tea before bed for vivid, lucid dreams

chamomile tea before bed for restful sleep

lemon verbena (vervain) tea before bed for dreamless sleep

when bathing at night, create a sachet that matches your intent and place in the bath or shower

glamours

utilize energy from venus and pluto for beauty and transformation but also neptune for illusions, mysticism, and confusion

anoint the containers of beauty and hair products with venus (beauty) or pluto (transformation/metamorphosis) water/oils/herbs

leave the item you wish to cast a glamour on under the full moon

charge a talisman with the effect you wish to have on others and wear when you go out for the day

add pluto water/oils/herbs and moon water to a bath for a full body glamour (write your intent with bath crayons on the tub or shower wall for an extra boost)

create an energetic shield over yourself in which the outside mirrors what you want others to perceive of you

goal and wish manifestation

write your intent on a bay leaf and burn it

turn your intent into a sigil and store it in a jar filled with herbs or other items that represent said intent

place a written description of your goal or wish in the center of a crystal grid using stones that are associated with manifestation and power

place a coin in moon water while focusing on your wish or goal (leave container under direct moonlight overnight so that it may charge)

light a candle whose color matches your intent and while focusing on your goal or wish, blow out the candle

add a catalyst to your spell

use energy from mars (power) or jupiter (luck)

personal power and effects

create or enchant a talisman that represents your intent, charge it, and wear it on your person

add herbs that are associated with personal power to a ritual bath

create a potion from herbs associated with power and drink in the morning for a boost during the day (think caffeine)

use a catalyst in the aforementioned activities

utilize whichever planetary/cosmic energy you see fit

warding

sprinkle a mixture of protective herbs around the perimeter of your home while walking clockwise

leave protective crystals at each corner of your space

hang a protective amulet above the door to your space; wear a protective amulet for personal protection

create a protective witch bottle and bury near your front door

plant herbs or flowers that are associated with protection outside at each corner of your home

draw a protective sigil or symbol on the outside of your front and back door with saturn or protective water/oils

hang witch balls or a witch’s ladder near your front door

create an energetic shield and place over yourself, your loved ones, or your entire home

wealth, prosperity, and luck

craft a money bowl and place it at the farthest left point away from the entrance of your home

involve mercury or jupiter in your spellwork (luck, money)

anoint candles with mercurial or jovian oils and/or herbs and burn on wednesdays or thursdays (ruled by mercury and jupiter)

use prosperity/luck runes or craft sigils to carve into candles

on the first of the month, you can do the following: say "rabbit rabbit" for good luck all month and let that be the first thing you say when you wake up; blow powdered cinnamon into your front door from the outside or place a cinnamon stick above your front door for prosperity

craft a crystal grid using prosperity/lucky crystals - where you place it is up to you

please be wary:- of putting essential oils directly on the skin or on items that your skin may come in contact with- of leaving crystals in prolonged sunlight (might fade) or exposed to liquid (might dissolve, might become toxic when dissolved)- of blowing cinnamon into a home or using incense that has pets, or humans with respiratory issues- ingesting/burning/touching herbs/plants/etc. that you are not familiar with (could be toxic, could affect the efficacy of your prescribed medications, could be harmful for pets or other members of your household)

compiled from my personal grimoire & based on my personal associations & research

#witchblr #witchy #witch #witchcraft #witches of tumblr #spellcrafting #spell casting #spellwork #magic #beginner witch #beginner witchcraft #bunny-claws

143 notes · View notes

ayukas · 4 months ago

Text

SEASONS

love comes in many forms, each as beautiful as the seasons themselves. sion, riku and yushi each came into your life at just the right moment, filling it with joy, laughter, and passion. but as all seasons do, they eventually fade away, leaving behind only memories of love's fleeting warmth.

pairing oh sion, maeda riku, tokuno yushi x fem!reader genre hurt comfort notes another draft thats been sitting in the basement for months orz i🩶onriyu reblog if u love onriyu 2!!!!!!

WINTER

just like the shifting seasons, love takes on different forms, each carrying its own beauty and impermanence. as snow drifts past the windowpane, you find yourself reminiscing over three seasons of love, each distinct yet equally unforgettable.

SPRING

spring arrived with the scent of rain-soaked pavements and the buzz of new beginnings. you met riku at a small town cafe, the air thick with freshly brewed coffee and the soft chatter of customers. he was a quiet man with a steady presence, similar to the way petals clung onto branches before silently being carried away by the wind.

your love bloomed quickly, delicate and fleeting, much like the cherry blossoms that lined the streets. with riku, love was defined as gentle touches over warm mugs, shared glances that spoke more than words, and laughter that was carried by the spring breeze.

but riku was a dreamer, and his dreams were far too big for the place you call home.

when the opportunity arose for him to pursue volleyball professionally, he had already made his mind long before he needed to speak the words out loud. standing at the train station, with the scent of blossoms lingering in the air, you forced yourself to smile as he held you for the last time.

"we'll see each other again, right?" the words slipped past your lips, delicate with hope.

his smile was soft, yet bittersweet.

"of course."

and just like that, spring faded, taking him with it.

SUMMER

summer was a blaze of golden light, in the heart of a festival where music pulsed through the humid air. this was where you met sion—bold, untamed, and the embodiment of summer itself. he was introduced through your brother, daeyoung, though introductions were hardly necessary. after all, sion always had a way of making himself known, attracting people into his orbit with effortless charm.

love with sion was reckless abandonment, stolen kisses beneath neon streetlights, and the rush of wind through open car windows during late night drives. he taught you how to let go, to live in the moment without worrying about what comes next. your days were filled with sun-soaked adventures, while your nights carried the scent of sea salt and the distant hum of the city.

but summer, no matter how colourful, always fades into something quieter. and beneath sion's carefree laughter concealed a truth he had been avoiding.

"i don't think i'm ready for something serious."

the confession came softly, like the way a tide recedes from the shoreline.

sion was someone who loved deeply, but feared being loved in return. and so, as the summer heat began to wane, so did you, leaving behind only sun-bleached memories and the ghost of a warmth that once existed.

AUTUMN

autumn carried a crispness in the air, an aroma of cinnamon, and the quiet promise of change. you met yushi at a halloween party, a ridiculous coincidence given that he was dressed as a minion, and you, had come as the purple equivalent.

your love was built on laughter—playful teasing, stolen glances across crowded rooms, and shared warmth beneath oversized sweaters. yushi was a contradiction, both lighthearted yet deeply thoughtful, the kind of person who could make even the dullest days feel golden.

but beyond the laughs and easy smiles, there was something unspoken, something hesitant. it wasn't until the leaves had fully turned and when the air carried the first whispers of winter that he finally told you,

"i have to leave soon."

the words lingered between you, caught in the stillness of an autumn evening. he didn't want to go, and you didn't want him to leave, but life had a way of tugging people in different directions, making choices before hearts were ready to accept them.

and so, as the last of the autumn leaves drifted to the ground, so did your time together. your love, much like the season, had been beautiful in its transformation.

WINTER

snow falls in thick, quiet flurries, blanketing the world in white. winter is the season of calm and reflection, and in its quiet, you find yourself wondering about the loves you lost and the memories you gained.

each season held something different—the softness of spring, the intensity of summer, and the warmth of autumn—but winter, winter is yours alone.

the seasons will always shift again, and perhaps love will find you once more. but for now, you let the snow fall, allowing yourself the space to simply be.

#nct wish x reader #sion x reader #riku x reader #yushi x reader #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct wish imagines #nct drabbles #nct wish drabbles #nct fluff #nct wish fluff

184 notes · View notes

exhausted-archivist · 7 months ago

Text

The Foods of Dragon Age: The Veilguard

This covers all the new foods mention in the game, unless noted otherwise, these foods are considered universal as they don't have a specific place of origin mentioned.

New Ingredients:

Alubia carilla - Antivan, aka blacked eyed peas

Antivan Lemon Thyme

Apricot

Cheese Curds

Chocolate, Dark

Clinging Morsel - a hearty fungus that is common in rural cuisine

Cow Heart

Cream, Heavy

Dragon's Bounty - known for its health benefits, it has tough green skin that opens and reveals dozens of tart arils.

Dragon Pepper - Rivain

Dragon Root

Dwarf Spice Collection - contains eight different spices.

Flax Seed

Figs, Purple

Ginger Root - a popular ingredient in Qunari cuisine

Gingerwort Truffle - common in the Anderfels and the Arlathan forest. When made into a tea it can have some magical side effects.

Green Cabbage

Horned Melon

Human Spice Collection - a collection with two spices

Kale

Lineseed

Mangos - Tevinter

Melon

Nocen Bass - a hearty denizen of the Nocen Sea

Nocen Shrimp

Olive Oil - Antivan

Pineapple - Tevinter and Rivain

Potatoes, New

Potatoes, Sweet

Pumpkin, Warty

Rialto Trout - a fish featured in both Antivan and Rivaini cuisine

Rivaini Pitaya - a colourful fruit with a sweet, delicate flavor. Though pitaya refers to dragonfruit family, the fruit doesn't look like dragonfruit.

River Salmon

Saffron

Sea Bass

Seere Peppers - Rivaini

Short-grain Rice - Antivan

Spearmint

Spicy Spice Collection - contains fourteen jars

Spring Onions

Striped Cod

Sugar, Brown

Sweetmelon

Tomatoes, Cherry

Vinegar, Dark

Vinegar, White

Walnut

Yam

New Foods:

Aged Antivan Cheese

Antaam Provisions

Antivan Dressing

Antivan Seafood Soup - uses sea bass, nocen shrimp, striped cod, squid, saffron, and salt

Apple Cake - Fereldan

Apple Cheesy Butter Noodles - Fereldan, a recipe made by Harding

Apple Dumplings - Fereldan

Apricot Liqueur

Armada Special - a Rivaini sandwich comprised of meat and cheese, it can have greens, pineapple, and more meat and cheese added. Or one can make it "Nevarran" meaning vegetarian.

Bran Cookies

Breaded Cheese Wands - Rivain, sticks of cheese breaded

Breadstick

Bronto Steak

Bug-cakes

Candied Sage Leaves - a popular Nevarran snack

Carta Fries - a Riviani dish, served as a side

Cheesy Toast

Chocolate Covered Strawberries

Churro - Antivan

Cider Porridge

Citrus Bagna Cauda - Antivan, a citrus sauce with anchovies

Coffee Ice - a frozen Minrathous treat, served with cream and toffee sauce on top. It is "like snow" but tastes of coffee

Cucumber sandwich

Dalish Seafood Soup

Deep Roads Crispers - a Rivaini dish

Demon-hair pasta

Eel Soup - Qun

Elderberry Pie - served in Ferelden and Tevinter

Elfroot Jelly

Fish Head Stew - Qun

Fish of the Day with Pear Slaw - Tevinter

Fish-fry

Free Marches Mash-up - a Rivaini dish

Fried Bread

Fried Bread with Herbs

Fried Leeks and Potatoes

Fried Peppers

Fry-bread - Tevinter

Gooseberry Pie

Gravy on Fish

Greens - salad

Greens with Antivan, Orlesian, or House Dressing

Griddle Cake

Grilled Fish Kebab

Grilled Halla - Dalish

Grilled Skewerd Squid

Grilled Treviso - Antivan, a fish named after the city

Grilled Treviso with Citrus Bagna Cauda

Hal's Fried Fish - Tevinter

Halla Cakes - Dalish

Ham and Herbs

Ham and Jam Slam - a Fereldan sandwich comprised of toast, butter, ham, and jam. Made by Harding.

Hazlenut Torte - Nevarran

Honey Cake with Figs - Tevinter

House Dressing - a Rivaini dressing

Isskap - a Qunari dish, that uses melons

Jam Pudding - Fereldan

Jam Tart - Fereldan

Jam, Apple

Jam, Cherry

Jam, Strawberry

Khachapuri - Tevinter, there is a three cheese variety

Lavender Cream - Antivan

Mince Pie

Mutton Stew - Fereldan

Mystery Stew

Nevarran Tomb Cheese

Non-Seafood Paella - Antivan

Noodles and Gravy

Nordbotten Cream - made of brined sheep's milk from Nordbotten

Orange Liqueur

Orlesian Dressing

Orlesian Sauce

Pasta Made of Peppers and Oil

Peanut Butter and Sausage Special - Tevinter

Pear Slaw - Tevinter

Peppered Steaks

Poached Crustaceans - Tevinter

Pork Dumplings - Fereldan

Pork Hand Pies with Fresh Herb Sauce - Tevinter

Potato Stew

Poutine

Rarebit - Nevarran

Raw Oysters on Ice with Lemon and Mint - Tevinter

Rhubarb Pie - Tevinter and Fereldan

Roasted Cabbage

Roasted Cabbage and Gravy

Roasted Chicken

Roasted Chicken Salad

Robust Loaf - a crusty, wholesome brown bread

Rolled Noodles

Salted Meat, Halla

Sauced Eels - Qunari

Sausage Sauced with Nut Butter Stuffed in a Bun - Tevinter

Savory Pie with Spinach - Tevinter

Scorpion Pasta - Tevinter

Scrambled Eggs

Scrambled Eggs and Gravy

Sea Monster Kebab - Rivaini

Seafood Paella

Seleny Ham - Antivan

Smoked Trout

Souffle

Spiced Fried Lentils - Tevinter

Spiced Porridge

Spit-Roasted Nug - Tevinter

Strawberry Tart

Street Meat

Sugar-biscuit Candy

Tarta de Limon - Antivan

Taste of Ferelden Bread and Cheese Spread

Tentacle Salad - Tevinter

The Divine's Hat - An Orlesian soft cheese molded to resemble the Divine's crown.

The Revered Mother's Knickers - Fereldan

Treviso Ham - Antivan

Turnip Stew - Fereldan

Vanilla and Nutmeg Tart

Venison Souffle

White Sauce

Wild Meat and Mushrooms - Dalish

Yam and Jam Slam - a Fereldan sandwich comprised of toast, butter, yam, and jam. Made by Harding.

Zeff's Fried Fish

New Drinks

Andoral's Breath - a type of coffee common in Treviso

Antivan Heritage Brandy

Antivan House Wine

Aromatic Coffee - Antivan

Assembly Ale - Dwarven

Cioccolata Calda - Antivan

Daisy Fun-Time Lemon Gin - Antivan, a juniper spirit flavoured with local flowers and fruit.

Dew of the Dales - Elven, Antivan. Spirits for the spirited, an elven elevation of the brewing arts only sold in Antiva.

Dock Town Homebrew - Tevinter

Dragon Piss Ale

Dwarven Stout - an Orzammar recipe, brewed by the dwarven Ambassadoria

Fire Brandy - used to flambé desserts

Ginger Tea

Gingerwort Truffle Tea

Grappling Hook - a white liqueur with hints of elderflower. Served with three coffee beans

Halla Milk

Kirkwall Select 9:36 - after the Kirkwall Rebellion, few barrels survived.

Lavender Tea

Lemon Gin - Antivan

Minrathous Red - hints of plum and spices

Minrathous White - a light and refreshing drink for humid Tevinter summers

Nevarran Red

Pomace Brandy - Antivan, brandy made from the pomace leftovers of wine making

Qun on the Rocks - Antivan, rum is matched with salt water and presumably seasonal fruit from Par Vollen.

Rivaini Moonshine - home-distilled Rivaini moonshine not for the faint of heart or stomach

Starkhaven Lager

Teven Lager - popular Dock Town amber brew

Vint-6 the common Red - thick and sweet, it is served by the sip. Tradition says that the more who partake, the greater the fortune

Vyrantium Brandy

#dragon age #foods of thedas #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age 4 #datv #da4 #anderfels #antiva #dalish #nevarra #rivain #tevinter #long post

326 notes · View notes

penvisions · 4 months ago

Text

services requested {chapter five}

Pairing: Kept Man! Joel Miller x Sugar Momma! Reader

Summary: Being in a city far away from daily life allows you to open up to Joel in a way you didn't think anyone would accept, but he continues to surprise you with just how good of a man he truly is.

Joel opens up in return, giving you pieces of himself he's yet to give anyone and his emotions are beginning to spring up as he spends more time with you.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: no outbreak au, modern au, age gap (joel is mid 50's, reader is early 30's), reader is more of an oc written in the x reader style, reader is described to have a scar and tattoos, power dynamics, sexual undertones, mutual pining, flirting, casual touches, mutual attraction, light angst, mentions of infinitely (not joel or reader, mentions of past trauma, allusions to power imbalances within the tattoo world, heavy make out session, and some other....stuff hehe, caretaker joel, shopping spree, reader spoils joel, mentions of past physical abuse (fleeting), reader has scars that were the result of an attack (not described in detail), i think that'sit!

A/N: this chapter means so much to me, we see a rawness in both of them- giving into their emotions and being soft with one another is something i want in life right now. this is me living vicariously through my babies. love y'all and hope you enjoy this installment!

ao3 || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

“Okay, so we’ve got your flight taken care of and upgraded because there is no way I’m gonna make you squeeze into a regular seat with your broad shoulders. Now we need to get you a bag and some clothes, you seem okay with using my stuff I had the hotel stock, a pair of shoes maybe? Definitely a small thing of your cologne, ooooh maybe we could get some bath bombs!”

You feel Joel’s attention on you as you confidently maneuver through the thick LA traffic with an iced coffee held in one hand, your phone in a the little storage space in front of the cupholders and gear shift where it’s lighting up with notifications while it charges.

It’s bright and sunny, your sunglasses big on your face while Joel just has on his regular pair. He left his in the truck when he handed the keys over to the airport valet.

“Don’t need to much, Sarah said she got me a few gifts and knowing her it’s some clothes.” He sips from the juice you both got to share, him unsure of the thick green texture of it but curious enough to linger on it when he saw it on the menu back at the lobby restaurant.

“Yeah, but we’re here and the malls are insane. Might as well. I don’t mind.” You smile over at him as you signal to turn onto another street. You don’t have the navigation system reading out directions but you know where you’re going. The warmth and the scent of salt in the air is comforting, even if you know you’re rambling to keep the events of this morning in the back of your mind. There was no use in wondering if the man beside you had…taken care of himself while you finished up your shower….

“I, uh, haven’t used the card you gave me yet.”

“Is something wrong with it? I didn’t set up a code so you could do that yourself. And then the deposit, did it go through your personal bank okay?”

“I didn’t feel like I deserved to use it- after the way I blew up at you. But yes, the deposit came through okay. Used part of it to get the flight out here and valet for the truck.” He sets the drink down and drums his fingers on the denim over his jeans.

“Okay, well, that’s…that’s good that it went through.”

“Sweetheart, I want to explain myself.”

“Joel, please, you don’t…it’s okay. You thought I was married. I’m okay, we’re okay, I promise.” Sliding your coffee into a cupholder, you reach for his hand and squeeze it once, his warmth surprising you even now. He’s always so warm. You wonder if it’s because he’s such a big man or if it’s simply because he’s a man. Micah was always warm to the touch too, but it was never comforting like Joel’s- it was more sticky and suffocating as the tension rose between you two, an obvious sign of the disconnect that formed.

“I want to tell you, I want you to know.” His expression is so open, words so soft in their quiet confession.

“You can, Joel. I just…let’s run these errands first okay?” You don’t want to push him, to make him feel like he has to share his past with you know that he knows the worst of yours. Time will help him decide if he really wants to and you kind of want things to be casual today. No heavy stuff, just the sun and the beautiful sights of mountains and him at ease beside you. It’s probably been years since he’s had time like this to just be a person- to be himself. Not a dad, not a contractor, no jobs to worry about, in a new area to explore as himself.

“Okay.” His fingers squeeze yours back and then you’re pulling your hand away to fit the rental into a parking spot right outside of a large parking structure.

“Okay.” You shift the gear into park and turn off the rental, closing the windows so they’re cracked as to not buildup heat while you two walk about. “Now, where do you get your cologne? We can get you a little travel size if you don’t want to do the whole checked bag thing.”

“’m fine with just going to a department store. Normally get a new bottle around the holidays when they have those big blowout sales. I can get it too, the stuff I need.” You know he’s not insisting out of some macho defense that he can support himself, but because you know he’s still feeling a little guilty and new to the whole dynamic. You had checked the account you set up for him for supplies, no transactions

“This is your little vacation too, I want to treat you. You deserve a little pampering, we both do.”

It’s such a treat for you, to watch as Joel gathers a few things that catch his eye around the large department store that you enter through one end of the giant mall. He’s got a few pairs of jeans of different cuts and sizes, some nicer looking t shirts in basic colors, two buttoned short sleeves with patterns on them, and one flannel. His shoulders disappear behind the door he picked out in the dressing room, and you wait patiently for him in one of the chairs set up in a small seating area outside of it. In case he needs different sizes or doesn’t like something.

He found you, dropped everything to run after you and be by your side. His help at getting the rental car, checking into the hotel, all of it was so him, so in line with who you know he is at his core. A caregiver, a protector, someone who takes the trust of others given to him and cradles it in his chest right beside his heart. He’s a good man, a truly good man.

Your eyes rove over his figure as he swings the curtain aside to exit his dressing room, the little sitting area is empty save for you both and he’s got a thick hand curled around a way too loose waistband to the slacks he has on.

“Wasn’t sure if the waist was the same on these type of pants…” He looks so bashful, but your eyes are glued to the way the that the fabric is caught between his legs, right beneath the zipper. The soft, silk shirt he's got on with it does nothing to hide the bulge where it’s mussed up above where he holds the pants up. The outfit....is something that looks far too good on him, despite being completely different from anything you've ever seen him in before, the gold chains about his neck tying it all together in a dizzying way...

Biting your bottom lip, you feel a wash of heat roll down your back at the twitch as he realizes you’re not really paying attention to him, but only a part of him.

“S-sorry!” Um, what size did you grab, I’ll go get the next one down.” You’re up and swiftly walking away, barely catching the measurement he mumbles as you go. Huffing, you try and shake the image of what he would look like with less clothes on from your mind. He’s your employee, who hasn’t once brought up the intimacy clause. There’s no hiding the attraction you feel towards him, he’s handsome- devastatingly so. The way he carries himself, who he is- makes him even more so.

He’s thoughtful, enough to remain on his side of the bed when you all but summoned him into the bed beside you. Neither of you can meet each other’s eye as you hand him a smaller pair of the pants he was trying out, his mumbled words of explanation that he just wanted to try and see if he could pull off the look something you try very, very hard not to respond to with a dirty comment. He could pull off anything, you’re sure of it, his frame thick and muscled, age softening him in a homey and comforting way.

He pats his hands against the back pockets of his regular jeans at the register, but let’s you hand over a card to cover the cost of what he decided to keep from his search.

Easy conversation and soft laughter fill the time as you both walk around the shops, dipping into some together or separately. His beautiful blush when he almost followed you into a lingerie store and multiple brushes of hands against each other, the way he insisted on carrying the bags accumulated.

When you exit the colorful shop with a nice little bag with pink tissue paper, he’s got a soft pretzel and a small thing of cheese to dunk it in, paired with a frozen lemonade. As you approach him, a man walking by on his own turns around to look you up and down but you don’t catch the movement as he approaches you.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but your pieces look amazing.” He’s around your age, you figure as you turn toward his voice at the soft brush of his hand on your bare shoulder, sleeveless dress displaying nearly all of the pieces you have done. You debated the outfit for a good fifteen minutes, self-consciousness telling you that it wasn’t something you could pull off, but when you exited the bathroom to find something else in your bag, the heat seeping into the hotel room from the open balcony door and the glint in Joel’s eyes convinced you to keep it on.

“Oh, um, thank you. I did a few of them myself, but most of the compliments go to my friends.” Joel is a bit aways, closer to the railing that looks down onto the first floor of the sprawling mall. You look over your shoulder when you feel his gaze on you, but you don’t want to be rude to the man in front of you even if you aren’t fond of the way he casually touched you.

“I’m Rick and you are?” He holds out a hand, even if his eyes rove over you in an open leer. Sighing quietly, you reach out to shake it and notice his eyes drop to your cleavage when he pumps your hands roughly twice before taking his hand back.

You give him a fake name, not too willing to share your real one or even the nickname you’re known to go by. If he manages to track you down and find either of the shops you work at or the one you plan on opening yourself, you’re sure he would just be more trouble than the paycheck would be worth.

“You got a shop around here? I’d love to stop by and see some of your books.” The man’s eyes look you up and down unabashedly, his eyes widening when he sees the label on the lone bag in your hand.

“I’m just visiting, little birthday vacation for this one.” You motion over to Joel, eyes rolling as you look over at him, he catches the motion and approaches. The hand not holding the bags and lemonade curls around your waist and his fingers pull you slightly into his side. A clear message to the man not getting the hint that you don’t really want to talk. Too blinded by his ill placed confidence, though his lips do twitch and his eyes narrow at the paint stained shirt and worn jeans Joel wears with his cowboy boots.

You happen to think that he looks rugged, but Rick obviously sees him as something lesser than standing there in his dress pants and collared shirt with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He’s clean shaven where Joel is dark, greying facial hair. He’s slicked back straight hair where Joel is dark curls.

“Oh, I see. Well, I’ll look you up. Could always use an excuse to get outta the house and away from the girlfriend, am I right?” He’s got the nerves to give you a wink, completely leaving the line he crosses as soon as he approached you by the wayside.

“Our parking meter’s almost up, best get going. Have a nice day.” And Joel’s ending the uncomfortable interaction with a mild glare and guides you away. The deep timbre of his voice displays his Southern drawl, Rick frowning at the way it twangs between them. Joel doesn’t take his hand away from where it rests in the curve of your waist, soft skin tingling beneath the thin fabric that separates them from it. When you turn down another hallway, he finally speaks.

“Figured we should refuel, dunno if you like these but Sarah and Ellie devoured them up anytime we went back to school shopping.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.” You follow him as he makes his way to one of the little sitting areas that connect the two upstairs aisles together. With the bags secure between his feet, he carefully breaks it in half and hands it over to you with a few napkins. Dunking it into the cheese sauce you’re suddenly ravenous and take a huge bite, groaning around the salty goodness.

You blink a few times as he reaches across to swipe a thick thumb over your bottom lip, the digit coming away with a bit of the sauce. He licks it from his finger, and you feel heat swell up low in your belly as his tongue peaks out between his lips.

“Little messy, ain’t ya?” He offers you a playful smirk, even as his eyes darken with something more.

You suddenly look away, unable to handle looking at him and his chuckle sounds into the air, full and hearty. His protective side from a few moments ago to this playful one is a dizzying shift. He’s so fucking charming and it has your insides all squirmy the more you see him relax and enjoy the time out here.

The rest of the errands go smoothly, dropping him off back at the hotel so he can take a breather after the hustle and bustle of the crowded roads and the busy stores. You know he isn’t too keen on constant interaction, especially in such a different setting than he’s used to back in Texas. And you have a nail appointment to get to, the agreement was for dinner when you get back.

You certainly didn’t expect to end the day in his arms with his lips firm against your own. But you sigh as you melt into him, hands moving to surround his neck as you surge up on your tip toes to press closer to him. He groans at the feel of your chest pushing up against his own, the soft give of your body something so foreign to his work strained muscles. His hands trail down your back, fingers prodding and caressing as they do, earning him soft moans that he licks straight out of your mouth.

His lips are so soft against your own, slick and warm as you return his kisses just as fervently. It’s intoxicating, to feel him against you, to have your hands curl around his hair and pull slightly, allowing you to hold his bottom lip between your teeth gently before letting it go with a glint in your eye he catches as he gazes through hooded, pupil blown eyes down at you.

He's suddenly bending his knees and gripping you firmly behind your thighs sneaking underneath the hem of your dress, easily lifting you up as you hop into his hold and wrap them around his waist. You cradle his face in your hands, nails hushing as they run over his scruff and you connect your lips back to his, openmouthed and hungry for more. For anything he’s willing to give you. You feel the twitch of him against your inner thigh and you can’t help the whine that fills his mouth as he swallows it greedily from yours. He spins, plopping you carefully down atop the desk.

But it doesn’t matter how careful he is, your back twinges, scar tissue pulling and a pained hiss breaks your mouth away from his. Your back curves, leaning forward and slouching as the pain stings sharp on the left lower part of your back. Your forehead thuds into Joel’s chest as he freezes, hands stilling where they cup your bottom.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- I’m so sorry.” His breath is heavy as it muses your hair, his scruff brushing your forehead. Reaching back a hand, you hold it over the pink, textured scar and focus on breathing in and out.

“N-not your f-fault, it’s t-the scar here.” You manage to sooth him, breathing in harshly. “I just, sometimes i-it’s hard to move like t-that.”

“I shouldn’t have- I didn’t even think about it, I know it’s there.” Joel doesn’t move, body rigid as you try your best to move as carefully as you can to relieve some of the pain. But you need heat. Trailing your hand down, you lay it over Joels and guide it up to where the scar hides underneath the fabric of your dress. Its not enough and you inhale sharply as another hot streak of pain strikes up your back.

“Fuck, okay. Joel, I need to get to the bath.”

“Whatever you need, I gotcha.” And he’s so steady as he steps back and holds his hands out to you to use for leverage. Getting down from the desk pulls your back but arousal pools hot in your core when you recall the way he picked you up to put you there. Joel settles you down onto the side of the tub and leans over to turn on the faucet. He ensures it’s the perfect temperature before he activates the stopper and kneels down in front of you.

“Gonna get these off for ya, if that’s okay?” He looks up at you from where he holds one of your boots in his hands. At your gentle nod, he begins to unlace them and pull them one by one off your feet. You worry about him seeing up the skirt of your dress, the damp front of your pale underwear. But the thought only sends another gush of arousal into the fabric and you tense your thighs together to keep it hidden. He smiles wide, a dimple appearing in his right cheek when your socks underneath are revealed to him. There’s a glint of heat behind his eyes even as he tends to you, they flick to your lap where the skirt bunches over them.

“Care bears?” He teases, delighting in the discovery.

“They’re cute.” You huff lightly, bracing your arms on the tile underneath you. Your nails tap against ceramic as Joel removes your other boot, the colorful socks following suit. His hands slowly trail up your ankles, your shins, tracing the lines and shading that decorate the skin.

“You’re mighty cute too.” He murmurs, eyes watching his hands trace the contour of feathers that frame the bottom of your knee cap. Your breath rushes out and you can tell he likes the way his words effect you, if the way his hands sneak up higher to trace over your thighs. His soft, earnest touch has you parting them, leaning back on your hands as your chest heaves in delicious anticipation.

“Fuck, you’re mor’n cute. You’re…amazin’.” He leans forward to kiss each knee cap. His lips light you up like a match, pleasure building low behind your hips drowning out the faint ache that persists in your back. “This okay? Don’t want to….overstep or pull anything on ya.”

“Whatever you’re okay with, I’m okay with.” You whisper, head knocking back when his hands grip more firmly and pull your thighs apart to fit between them. The skirt of your dress pulls taut, exposing the front of your underwear to him and he lets out a tortured groan at the sight. The peak of your dark hair beneath the pale fabric isn’t something you have to worry about turning him off. You’re sure of it, with the way he bites into his bottom lip as he reaches to run to a thumb over the damp fabric.

A small moan bursts into the air, doing nothing to cover the wet squelch of your swollen lips as Joel presses harder between your thighs. If you were paying attention, you would have seen the way his eyes roll back in his head as the sound settles deep in his belly.

“Much as I wanna do this right now, we should get you into the bath.” Joel doesn’t move despite the words he utters, hand gently caressing your folds. You can’t help but circle your hips, as gently as you could without putting any more strain on your back. Suddenly his breath is hot on the fabric, pulling a startled gasp from you. “But first I gotta get a little taste, if that’s alright?”

“God, yes, please,Joel.” You moan out, a desperate sound echoing around the bathroom as you feel the tip of his gorgeous nose press close and the way he inhales deeply.

“Fuck, you smell so sweet, darlin’.” His tongue swipes wide over your entire core, not once but twice before he’s pulling back and looking up at you where he crouches between your legs. “Taste sweet too.”

He moves away momentarily to stop the faucet from running, steam rising from the water filling the tub before he’s diving back between your thighs. He licks at the front of your underwear like a man possessed, pointing his tongue to swirl in search of that little bundle of nerves. Your hands fly to tangle in his hair, pulling lightly to make him hum against you. Just as two of his fingers sneak underneath the gusset, your head snaps back up.

“W-ait!” Your pant, panic rising and dousing the fire Joel was stoking low in your belly. As soon as the word leaves your lips, he’s pulling his hands back to you and leaning back. His eyes are wide, worry at doing something wrong or pushing for too much breaking through the darkness of them. You don’t move to clench you thighs but your heart beats so fast in your chest, for a completely different reason now as you realize Joel was about to see you.

“It’s not, you’re,” You breath deep and exhale slowly, closing your eyes against the burn of tears suddenly springing up. “Joel, that was- amazing, but…I- I don’t look…like other girls.”

“Everybody looks a little different, ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of.” He assures you gently, cupping your knee to comfort you. “But if you say stop, we stop. No arguments or hard feelings, you bein’ comfortable is the most important part of this.”

“It’s…it’s not that. The scar on my b-back….it’s not the only o-ne he left me with.” You bury your face into your hands as hiccups distort your confession. You startle slightly when his arms wrap around you, holding you close to his still kneeling form. He cradles the back of your head and whispers quiet reassurances where he presses his lips to the side of your head.

You don’t know how much time passes as your tears cool and subside, but Joel holds you the entire time, you don’t feel crowded but wrapped safely in his embrace. Your muscles twitch and you suck in a breath as the pain washes over you, the position on the tile not helping the initial reason for being where you are.

“Gonna fix the bath again. I won’t look and I’ll step out, but I do want to help you get into the tub.” Joel pulls back, face holding one side of your puffy face as his thumb traces underneath your eye. “You need just relax, we don’t have to rush anything, we have time.”

He groans as he stands, the bulge in his pants obvious as he palms it in an attempt to tame it.

“Joel,” Your eyes linger even when his hand falls away and he busies himself with draining the now tepid water from the tub and running the hot water once again. He reaches for the bath bombs that he unpacked while you were gone and plops one into the tub. It’s eucalyptus, with bath salts encrusted around it beginning to dissolve and scent the air.

“’s okay, it’ll go down. More worried about you.” He gives you a smile, something small and genuine, washing away the little strands of guilt that lace through you even as you begin to feel the exhaustion from your tears and anxiety. “So, uh, how do you wanna do this?”

“I-I think I can manage, really,” You need to be alone, your thoughts firing over each other. You’ve come to enjoy the time you spend with Joel but it’s still a lot to handle. Especially in the wake of the emotions of the past few days, the ups and downs

“I’ll bring your phone in and give you your space.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, pausing for a moment that draws on long as you close your eyes and just settle in the moment of casual intimacy.

“My bag too, please?” Voice quiet, you can hear how raspy it is from the onslaught of emotions. He doesn’t look too rattled from the whiplash of the last hour and you’re grateful for his calm demeanor.

“Okay, you need anythin’ and you holler.” And then he’s giving you the space you asked for, like the gentleman he is. Proving to you that he truly is such a good man at his core.

Steam and the scent of eucalyptus wafts through the humid air of the bathroom, you’ve refilled the tub and let the act of washing your body with a soft buffing loofah calm your nerves.

His enthusiasm makes you feel like your own feelings aren’t so unfounded…

Heat flares behind your cheeks. He really did, happily pushing between your thighs in pure desperation to get a taste of you. But he….he hasn’t told you that he thinks you’re something he likes. It fuels something small and ugly inside you that you try so hard to keep pushed down and in the back of your mind. Sexual acts result from a lot of different things, and attraction isn’t always at their core.

He says he likes you, that he wants to kiss you, but…you feel so insecure. You feel like a failure because of how your marriage dissolved, if it was even a real attraction and connection to begin with. The feeling of being just another in a long string of younger bodies in Micah’s shop and bed. But he had asked you to marry him, though that too could have been his way at keeping control as your popularity grew.

Ruined in more ways that physical, your mind runs in circles until the water cools and you decide it’s time to drain the bath.

On the other side of the door, Joel’s own feelings bubble up.

Joel sees the pack of cigarettes in your bag and before he can think better of it, he’s grabbing it and the lighter stuffed into the side of the duffle alongside it. He opens up the sliding door to the small balcony and leaves it cracked behind him, just in case you call out for him. He’s worried. He’s overwhelmed.

He’s fucking livid.

The man’s face who hurt you surfaces in his mind and he lights the end of the cigarette with a little more force than necessary. Almost daring the light breeze to blow out the lighter as he does so. That pathetic, piece of shit excuse of a man did so much damage. He not only cheated on you and attacked you, but now Joel suspects that he took advantage of you. It all sits heavy in Joel’s chest.

That man at the mall today, too, had looked you up and down. Like you were something for the taking.

And he feels absolutely shitty for the feelings of desire that swirl low behind his hips. The thought of the few times he fisted his cock to memories of you making him feel sick. He knows there’s no true comparison of what your ex-husband did but he doesn’t like any part of feeling like he’s taken advantage of you and your kindness, your friendship.

His fingers tingle as he inhales deeply, recalling the way he could taste the same menthol faintly on your tongue as he sucked it into his mouth. Fuck, you had felt so perfect in his hands- all soft skin and enthusiastic. But he needed to be careful, for your sake and for his. You both carry so much trauma, relationships and the one you two have isn’t exactly a conventional one. He knows he said he doesn’t care what it looks like on the outside, but he kinda does.

He knows he looks his age and you look yours. He’s an old man and you’re…a beautiful younger thing. All supple skin and soft eyes. Taking another long pull from the filter, he looks out over the dark cityscape, the room high enough to make him feel like he’s above it all on a cloud. It’s so crowded, even now. Cars fill the streets, pedestrians fill the sidewalks, windows to shops bright and full. Headlights and taillights trace the curve of the highways that tangle all up in the scene, overwhelming him even now as he looks down at it all.

But today…being by your side, it hadn’t felt like too much. His attention laser focused on you and the effortless way you picked things out and allowed him to hope that you want him the same way he wants you, though he knows it just could be fleeting and spontaneous. He isn’t sure if there’s a depth to the way you feel and he’s too much of a self-conscious coward to ask you outright.

You seem to bridge the gap, slightly dewy skin from the bath scented so fresh as you sidle up to him and take the second cigarette he’s lit since being out on the balcony.

“Joel, I think it’s pretty obvious, but I kinda like you. A little bit beyond friendship.” You say it as confidently as you can muster, despite the nerves of being so direct. But that kiss…the way he pressed his mouth to the front of your underwear, his soft words and willingness to stop if it wasn’t what you wanted…it fuels you to find out the truth. Because if he did like you the same way…

“I kinda like you too, sweetheart.” Smoke billows out from between you lips at his reciprocation, heart stuttering as you look over at him out of the corner of your eye from where you stand side by side. He goes even further and calms the doubts you have about the contract being the only reason he’d feel like he needs to say something similar, though you know he’s not the kind to front false ideations, it’s still comforting to hear. “I don’t want you to think I’m just here for the money and…the uh, sex.”

“I don’t think that’s what you’re here for.” You whisper, eyes focusing on the way that too many bodies mingle about down on the street.

“I really appreciate you, so much. You…you were a pleasant surprise in my life and I wouldn’t change a damn thing, except maybe take back the storming into your house part.” He inches closer, gently corralling the cigarette from you to take a drag of his own. He could very well light up his own, but you rather like that he wants to share one instead.

“I was an ass, even if it came from…a place of insecurity. I was married, once upon a time. But she wasn’t interested in being a wife and mother, she got caught up in the spiral of what her life was supposed to be- college classes, parties, figuring out who she wanted to be. But we got pregnant young, Sarah is my whole heart, my reason for everything. But for her, it wasn’t the same. And she decided to find something to help her cope with it.

First it was a glass of wine in the evenings, then two or three. Then a whole bottle. Then a little joint here and there, edibles turned into the stronger stuff and eventually I came home one day to her high as a kite and fucking her drug dealer in our bedroom while Sarah cried her little head off. Put my foot down and told her she needs to get it together and deal with it in a better, healthier way or she needed to sign over full custody to me. That’s why the thought of you having an open affair set me off.”

“I’m so sorry, Joel…” Your phone pings, an alert for the delivery of the takeout you ordered while in the bath. You look from it to the front street of the hotel down below and then to the man beside you. The one bearing it heart and past to you in such an open way. “I had no idea, that…that’s an awful thing to come home to.”

“I thought I’d made my peace with it, but it still affects me. And that’s okay, I clocked it and reached out to someone who’s helped me before. Therapy ain’t easy, but it does help me, even if it isn’t something I ever anticipated needing.” He leans over to press a kiss to your temple, while a hand wraps around you to gently cage you between his front and the railing of the balcony you were both leaning against. “You didn’t deserve that initial reaction but believe me when I say I will never do something that you don’t want or makes you uncomfortable.”

“I believe you,” You press back into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest firm against your back. “I won’t either and I…I do trust you to be honest with me as we, maybe….take things slow?”

“You have my word, sweetheart.”

Another ding and Joel is glancing at your phone in your hand. He tells you he can run down to the lobby and get the food, that he wants you to relax and set something up on the television for you to watch before bed. The sun setting late, casting deep oranges and pinks across the clear sky. When he returns, he doesn’t tell you about how the delivery person was a young man hoping to interact with you- the disappointment that Joel was the one to receive the food. Between that interaction and the one at the mall, Joel knows he’s got no true claim over you, but the protective and jealous streak he knows he possesses still flares.

He knows you’re surrounded by beautiful people in your world, the work you do, the fantastic art you create and design for people bringing them into your orbit. He’s just an old man, but he hopes that you like looking at him just as much as he likes looking at you, that there’s more to your connection than physical attraction, because for him- he knows his insecurities are something he’s still working on, yours he can help to ease as well.

The sentiments wouldn’t do much but showcase insecurity, something that’s tired you both out already after a busy, full day. Time, he thinks, is something that will work in both your favors and you have plenty of it.

A movie plays calmy in the background while you share a plethora of appetizers and a few entrees- sampling each and easy laughter bubbling up at genuine reactions. Neither of you bring up that his flight leaves tomorrow evening, basking in the moments you have left in the privacy of the hotel room.

Once the food is long gone, a second movie playing while you both get ready for bed, the couch remains as such and Joel slides underneath the covers of the bed beside you. As soon as the lamp goes out and the tv volume gets dimmed, his hand reaches for yours above the duvet, fingers tangling with your own and making the day that much more special.

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @evolnoomym @here-briefly @msjarvis @sofiacaterina

@noisynightmarepoetry @sawymredfox @badwolfvexa @lotusbxtch

@copperhalfcent @anoverwhelmingdin @megjohnston23 @axshadows

@purple-fig @paleidiot @her-fandom-sanctum @auteurdelabre @paradisedixon

@communism-bitches @ghotifishreads @sugar-n-spice @millersblud @yopossum

@morallyinept @desuidesu @mabelsbubble @diirtymartini

@thundermartini @mrsmando @jessthebaker @emeraldbloodcrown

@mara-tevith-solo @76bookworm76 @persephone-girl @jellybeanxc @clawdee

@wethairjoel @pedrospatch @jessthebaker @darkheartgatita

@getitoutofmymindwrites @burntheedges @punkshort @sarap-77

@chronically-ghosted @theoraekenslover @maladaptivedaydreaming

@ad23900 @bergamote-catsandbooks @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal

@clevergirl74

graphics and banners by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

144 notes · View notes

applepiealopecoid · 4 months ago

Text

scents and smells to use in your writing

sandalwood — think intoxicating, slightly masculine (if you want it to be), wood-y,

fresh laundry — think febreeze, freshly cleaned clothes, cleaning wipes, that kinda thing

cinammon — think cinnamon rolls, desserts, sugar, sweetness

vanilla — sweet and soft. it’s a classic and i feel it’s almost feminine because it’s in a lot of perfumes but it can be for anyone

sea salt — think sand on your feet, sea in your lungs, maybe a few seagulls cawing. a very beach-y smell

chlorine — think of pools, summer, theme parks with water slides. it’s not the most appealing smell but it certainly is a smell

strawberry — when i think of strawberries, i think of strawberry picking when i was little and kind of the taste of the strawberries themselves. as for the ice cream or perfume kinda strawberry, it’s a fun and sweet smell

chocolate — think hot chocolate, a hershey’s kiss, that hint of chocolate in your coffee creamer. it’s warm and cozy

coconut — think tropical, beachy, refreshing. when most people see coconuts they see “exotic”

banana — think banana sundae, banana smoothie, fruit-y smell, laffy taffy, that kinda thing

apple — think apple trees, apple jam, apple pie, that kinda sweet crisp smell

pine — think of a damp, dirty forest with towering trees and leaves gracing its floor. maybe a deer or two is nearby. it’s a forest smell basically

metallic — think of blood, wet copper or iron, etc.

dirt/earth — think the smell of dirt, grass, trees. the general smell of nature

rose — think romantic, date night, mysterious, alluring. roses are most commonly associated with life and affection, at least in american culture

sweat — think intense workout, maybe tangy, smoky, etc. just sweat

mint — think of waking up bright and early, toothpaste, doctor’s offices, etc. mint really speaks as fresh to me

damp, wet, wet dog — think of moist places, like a really old pool or something akin to that

dew — think early morning and mist in the air. can be associated with spring as well

musk — think of a scent similar to sweat, but the aftermath. not just pure sweat everywhere, but the scent about an hour after you work out. it smells different for everyone though

smoke — think of that scent you smell when a fireplace turns off, wood stops burning, or when you overcook something

spicy — think of ginger, paprika, spices in general. it’s a kind of fun and daring smell

toasty, warming — this can be anything warm you want: hot cocoa, warm blankets, turning the heater on, summer, fireplace flames

floral — this can be any flower you want it to be. spring is full of it, it is the embodiment of a bouquet, and is the scent you smell when you “stop to smell the flowers”

#writing #writing inspiration #writing advice #creative writing #writeblr #writing tools #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writer #writerscommunity #writers #scents #fragrance #perfume #writing help #writing tips #applepiealopecoid

139 notes · View notes

buckevantommy · 5 days ago

Text

just a thing that could be 1k if i put the energy in (not smutty but in my mind tommy has a hot tub they have christened) 🏖️✨

Their coastal hike ends with an ocean swim. Buck's wired and tired, so soon they're stretched out on a rug half in the shade, half in the sun, their bodies quickly drying, hair matching riots of salt-damp curls.

Tommy is being Buck's pillow because he loves him. But as the rise and fall of his chest slows and the fingers tangling idly in his hair move to scritch softly at his scalp, it feels like Tommy enjoys this almost as much as Buck does.

"Hey, Tommy?" He rolls his head to the side, looks up the wide expanse of Tommy's torso, past the spattering of chest hair, gaze pausing on that stubbled neck and biteable chin, and coming to land on blue eyes that put the sky to shame.

"Mm?"

"Do you believe soulmates are real?"

Tommy blinks at him, fingers carding gently through Buck's hair in a soothing motion. "Do you?"

"I think.. we were always meant to find each other. It's like the universe made sure of it - 'cause we could've met so many times, and we've had so many of the same people in our lives, like we've been circling each other for years until the right circumstances came along."

Tommy's smile is bemused. "Like the perfect storm?"

"Yeah." Buck is serious.

And Tommy doesn't laugh at him, doesn't poke fun at him or just indulge him. Instead, he nods and sweeps his hand down to cradle Buck's jaw, regarding him with such tender affection. "I was never one to believe in curses before I met you."

Buck blinks. Tommy stills as he realises what he's said, but Buck can only laugh. He shoves at Tommy playfully, earning a sheepish chuckle and an apologetic look.

"I meant your cowboy friend."

"I know." He shifts Tommy's hand briefly to plant a kiss on his palm.

"Okay."

Tommy's thumb caresses his cheek, and Buck's struck once again by how easy it is to be open and honest with him. To say what he's thinking and feeling and trust that Tommy won't run away anymore - because he trusts Buck, too.

"Knowing you, is.. this may sound corny."

"I like corny."

"You've brought a kind of.. magic, into my life. And that's just who you are - you're special, Evan."

Buck baulks. "You're special, too." He pulls Tommy's hand away from his face and threads their fingers together; perfectly entwined strings of fate.

"You're sweet. But it's more than that. I'm fairly certain you're made of magic."

Buck's mind goes fuzzy. He's turned Tommy - the pragmatist, the realist - into a believer. "I'm real," he says earnestly, a sudden pang of anguish driving him.

"You can be both."

"You're it for me," Buck says, imbuing the words with every ounce of sincerity his heart can squeeze out. "I need you to know that."

It seems to hit Tommy again - that he really gets to have this, that it's not going to be ripped away from him. Buck wants to tuck him inside his ribcage and keep him warm and safe and loved for the rest of his life. "Well. That's another thing we have in common."

They share a lot in common. They both like to hike, although Buck tends to stop and examine things of interest along the way - and Tommy expressed how much he likes that just earlier today. They both like the beach, but Tommy is more of a shallow waters guy while Buck likes the surf. They both like coffee, but their preferred methods of consumption are very different (unless they're in the kitchen in the early morning sipping at their mugs of standard roast from Tommy's ancient coffee machine).

Add this one to the list: Buck believes in mummy curses and hexes and the crazy power of a full moon. Tommy believes in magic - because of Buck. Tommy thinks Buck is magic.

And they both love each other, and want a life with each other.

Buck thinks there's a sheen to Tommy's eyes that could be passed off as sweat or ocean water, but as he feels his own eyes sting a little and the telltale wetness nudge his lashes he lets them spring free as a grin splits his face. Tommy reaches for him and Buck's quick to swim up his body and meet him in a kiss of acknowledgement, of love. Lingering and tasty of salt both from their tears and the ocean.

#bucktommy #fic meme #my fics #fanfiction #.txt #tevn kinley kinkley firepilot #evantommy #sidenote: i've never seen the movie or read the book but i just found out The Perfect Storm has a rescue chopper pilot soooooo

90 notes · View notes

saltcxrcle · 29 days ago

Text

after everything ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: reunions, explanations, reconciliations, and hope for the future

pairings: sam winchester x fem! reader, prev samjess x reader, prev samjessノ wc: 4.0k warnings: pt. 3/3, no use of 'y/n', switching povs/omniscient narrator, angst, mentions of jess's death, eventual fluff, a bittersweet/happy ending, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: wahhh its over guys T-T i had so much fun writing this for you guys and i can't believe its over!! trust i have some other multi-chapter fics lined up for the summer and ofc other one-shots but for right now enjoy the last part of the after series!! the after series masterlist

SAM WOULDN’T ADMIT IT, BUT HE WAS TIRED.

Tired of what exactly? He could give you a laundry list that was as long as his forearm. The exhaustion that swept over him was all too familiar—it was permanently etched into his bones like the angel warding Cas had done so long ago.

Sam rubbed his face as he hunched over his laptop at the table in the motel. It was one of the nicer ones that he and Dean had stayed in lately. The decor was simple: standard wooden nightstands, lamps on either one, an art print hanging between the beds, and the wallpaper was a simple cream color.

Sam was pleasantly surprised when he entered the room and looked at Dean for an explanation.

Dean shrugged. “Wanted to stay in a place where the smell of cigarette smoke wasn’t permanently ingrained in the room.”

Sam just nodded his head, and after setting up the warding in the room, he promptly sank into the queen-sized mattress and slept.

The hunt was a simple one, just a vengeful spirit that awoke because people were renovating their old house. The previous owner had died in that house, so he didn’t take it too kindly to his home being destroyed. It was an open-and-shut case, leaving the Winchesters in a small town in Washington for an extra couple of days.

“We should take a break here.” Dean said as they were in the Impala, heading back from salting and burning the corpse of the old house owner.

“A break?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded. “Why not? We’re a couple miles from Seattle. We can spend a couple of days there before heading back to the bunker.”

Sam studied Dean with a raised brow. He could see the same exhaustion mirrored in his older brother’s features. Sam swallowed thickly before dragging his eyes away from Dean.

“Sure, why not. I could use a few days off.” Sam said before pulling out his phone and starting to research things to do in Seattle.

Once they made it to Seattle, Dean splurged on another motel, and it felt strange to Sam that he was in a city with his brother but not working on a hunt. So here he was, only two days into staying in Seattle, and he was researching for another hunt. But there was nothing out of the ordinary that caught his attention, making him breathe out a harsh breath as he leaned back in his chair.

Dean was out with the Impala, checking out the pop culture museum. It was a shock to Sam that Dean would willingly go to a museum on his own, but considering it was the pop culture museum, it made a whole lot of sense that Dean would want to go.

Sam shut his laptop and got up from his seat. The room felt too small for him right now. He grabbed his tan jacket, wallet, and motel key—feeling the coastal spring breeze on his cheeks as he exited the motel room. Shoving his hands in his jacket, Sam started to walk further into the city, passing by the different shops and restaurants that Seattle had to offer.

It was a sunny day in Seattle, which was rare for the city, but spring was coming to a close, and summer was rapidly approaching.

A cafe sign caught Sam’s eye. It was a hole-in-the-wall place, but through the shop window, Sam could see the rustic and vintage decor that was hung up throughout the place.

They would have loved this place. Sam thought wistfully as he stared into the coffee shop. Before he knew it, his hand was on the handle of the door. When he opened the door, the small bell above the door rang, alerting the baristas of a potential new customer.

The scent of roasted coffee beans washed over Sam as he stepped up to the counter. The cafe wasn’t too busy—customers of all ages were scattered through the floor plan of the place, most working in the quiet atmosphere of the shop, save for the music playing overhead and the sounds of the coffee beans being ground or drinks being made.

“Hi! What can I get you?” The barista greeted Sam at the register.

Sam sent them a polite smile. “Could I get a regular black coffee, hot?”

“Is that all for you today?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, could I get a name for the order? And that’ll be $5 flat.”

Sam gave them a ten-dollar bill. “Sam. Keep the change.”

“Thank you. Your order will be out soon.”

Sam nodded at the barista, turned around from the counter, took a few steps, and let his eyes scan the shop for an empty seat. He froze when his eyes landed on a familiar figure. You were sitting by one of the big bay windows by the front of the shop. You were writing furiously in a journal while your laptop was open in front of you.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat as he was transported back to the week after Jess died.

Sam ignored his phone for the fifth time today, and Dean was getting annoyed with the constant buzzing and ringing from it.

“Dude, answer your damn phone already.” Dean grumbled as he sat at the table, cleaning his gun.

Sam’s face screwed up at Dean, rolling his eyes before he pressed the ignore button on his phone. He couldn’t bear to look at you right now, not after Jess. His eyes were focused on his laptop as the sound of his keyboard clicking filled in the near silent room.

“Who’s calling you anyways?” Dean spoke up again, clearly curious as to who was calling you for the fifth time in a row.

“No one.” Sam grumbled. “It’s probably a spam caller.”

“A spam caller is calling you five times in a row with no rest in between?”

“Dean. Drop it.” Sam’s tone was harsh. Sam didn’t want to explain the entire situation that you, him, and Jess had established not even a month ago. Sam stared hard at the screen in front of him. How could everything go so wrong so quickly? He had his partners by his side and was supposed to be interviewing for law school and continuing his life away from the nightmare he fought so hard to get away from.

Sam’s phone started to ring again. He audibly groaned, ignoring the pointed look Dean sent him, and finally answered his phone.

“You better open that door Winchester.” Your harsh voice echoed through the receiver, your words cutting off any greeting that Sam had for you.

His eyes widened in confusion, but he followed your instructions. Sam got up from his seat and went to the motel door. He opened the door and was met by your red-rimmed eyes filled with anger and worry as you held your phone up to your ear.

Your eyes softened slightly at the sight of Sam but hardened again as you hung up your phone. “You better have a damn good reason why you’ve been avoiding my calls for the past couple of days.”

Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but you quickly shoved your way inside of the motel room. Sam exclaimed your name, trying to grab you before you could make it even further into the room, but you were too quick for him.

Your eyes met green ones filled with confusion and intrigue. Your eyes quickly gave the guy sitting at the table a once over, noting the gun in his hands before it clicked in your mind who this was.

“How did you find me?” Sam asked, his tone betraying the uneasiness that was building in his gut.

“Brady told me where you were.” You had never really liked Brady—you always got a weird feeling in your stomach whenever you hung out with him with the rest of the friend group. But Brady was your last resort since no one else knew where he was. Hell, you found out about the apartment fire because of him.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “I never told Brady where I was.”

You paused for a second before shaking your head. “Well, I really don’t care how he knew, I’m just thankful that he did know and told me because did you really think I wasn’t going to come looking for you, after everything that just happened?”

Sam let out a breath. Of course, he knew that you were going to look for him. A large part of him was glad that you weren’t in the apartment that night with Jess. His entire world would have collapsed if you were. Now, a small part of him hates that he has to figure out how to get you off of his back so he can leave.

“Of course not.”

“Then why dodge my calls?”

“Because I’m leaving.”

Silence filled the room.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly.

Dean looked at this scene with bated breath. He had no idea who you were, but it was clear to him that you were important to Sam—Dean just didn’t know how.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. “After what happened,” Sam paused, shaking his head and looking away from you—his eyes focused on the wallpaper of the room, “I can’t be here anymore.”

“You’re not staying for the funeral? Your words came out breathless, shaky. You could feel your eyelids start to burn.

Sam said nothing, jaw clenched as he nodded.

You shook your head, a scoff escaping your lips. “Do you think running away is going to help with the gaping hole in your chest?”

Sam wanted to tell you everything, how monsters exist, how Jess’s death wasn’t an accident, and how he was going to go and kill the thing that killed her.

“I’m just taking a page out of your book.” He was clearly referring to the fact that you avoided them for almost two weeks earlier this month.

“That was different and you know that.” You hissed through your teeth, poking your finger into his chest.

Sam grabbed your wrist as your name fell from his lips with a gentle whisper. “I know. But it hurts so much, I have to go.”

“Do you have to?” Without me? The unadded question filled the widening gap between you and Sam.

Sam looked at you with a sad smile. It’s one of his smiles you’ve never seen before. Half of his lips pulled up reproachfully as he looked down at you, your hand still on his chest as he loosely grips your wrist.

You saw the resolution in his eyes, and you knew there was no chance of convincing Sam to stay. You had a feeling there was more to him than just wanting to up and leave with his brother.

“Just–” You bit your bottom lip, “Remember to call, okay?”

“I will.”

You nodded, and before you could second guess yourself, you pulled Sam into a tight hug. You tucked your face into his neck and tried to commit his scent to memory—the pit in your stomach told you it would be a while until you’d see him again. Sam shoved his face into your hair, tears starting to well up in his eyes at the smell of Jess’s shampoo. You must have used it recently, he thought and was tempted to stop by your apartment when you weren’t there to steal it.

You pulled away from him, squeezing his hand three times before leaving the room without another word exchanged between the two of you.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut before scrubbing a hand down his face. It’s for the better, Sam thought. You didn’t need to be pulled into this world, and Sam could not stand the thought of you getting hurt if you knew about what actually lurks in the dark.

“She was hot.” Dean stated, breaking the silence after you had left the room.

“Fuck off.” Sam practically snarled as he glared at Dean—the despair he was feeling quickly turned into fury. Sam did not want to hear Dean objectify his ex-partner now or ever.

Dean just put his hands up in surrender, unaccustomed to the type of fury that was behind Sam’s gaze.

Sam was brought back to the present when you finally tore your eyes away from your page and met his. Confusion filled your gaze before it bled into recognition as Sam saw your eyes flick up and down his figure, and he found he did the same to you.

You looked beautiful. You grew even more into your features, but your eyes still held the same spark that Sam could recognize from a mile away. A slight smile grew on your face as you waved him over and gestured to the empty seat in front of you.

“Black coffee for Sam!” A voice exclaimed into the cafe.

Sam looked sheepish as he pointed at the pickup area for his drink. You nodded and gave him a thumbs-up in response.

Once Sam picked up his drink, he felt the world slow down with each step he took towards you. His heart rate picked up as he neared your table. The sun shined through the bay windows, illuminating your features and giving you an almost ethereal glow to your skin.

Sam set down his coffee on the table before sitting down in front of you. “Hey.” He breathed out, nerves crawling throughout his skin.

You smiled at him. “Hi Sam. It’s been a while.”

An awkward smile pulled at his lips. “Yeah, it has.”

“What brings you to Seattle?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Your journal was closed as you rested your head on your hand, looking at him intently.

Sam tried not to squirm under your gaze. “Just visiting for a couple of days.”

You nodded. A silence settled between the two of you. You took a sip of your lukewarm drink that was sitting idle right next to your laptop.

It felt surreal to Sam, sitting right in front of you after all of these years. Sam's eyes were drawn to your hands that were wrapped around your cup—instinctively looking at your left hand. A weight he didn’t know he had lifted from his chest at the fact that your left hand was bare, but the thought that you could still have someone waiting for you made Sam feel strange. He knows that he has no claim over you, not after leaving Stanford the way that he did.

Sam was looking at you so intently that he missed the fact you were speaking to him. He blinked once, seeing the amused smirk on your face—it was all too familiar, that smile. It was the same one you would get before teasing him.

“Sorry I didn’t catch that.” He said with a sheepish smile on his lips.

“I could tell,” You let out a small chuckle. “But I was asking if you wanted to go to this museum nearby? It’s like a ten minute walk from here.”

Sam nodded before grimacing slightly. “It’s not the Pop Culture museum is it?”

You shook your head. “No. It’s a regular art museum. Although, I am tempted to take you to it now.”

Sam let out a small laugh. “Please don’t. It’s the only time where I’m not stuck to Dean’s side for the day.”

“You’re here with your brother?” You were a little surprised to hear that he was still traveling around with his brother.

“Yeah, he has the car so I’ve been walking around today.”

“I could’ve guessed that myself. Do you want to go to the museum or do you have other obligations right now?” You asked, starting to pack up your things.

“I’ll go.” Sam said with a small smile. “The only thing on my agenda today was to walk around the city aimlessly.”

“Well, let me lead the way for you.” You had finished packing your stuff up, and Sam got up from his seat at the same time you did. You led him out of the cafe where the two of you were and toward the museum.

The two of you made small talk along the way, making the walk feel much shorter than it actually was, and once you were in the museum, the two of you barely talked. You guys walked through each exhibit in pleasant silence—re-familiarizing yourselves with each other's presence as hands brushed against each other in soft caresses as you walked or stared at each piece of artwork the two of you admired.

While neither you nor Sam said this thought aloud, but both of you thought this was nice, reconnecting with each other—but silently wishing that you were with each other after all this time, that even though there was a missing piece in Jess, you and Sam still fit together all the same.

After you and Sam made your way through all of the exhibits, the two of you shared a quick lunch at the diner across the street from the museum, chatting with each other quietly over your food. You guys spent a lot of time talking after your food was done, but you wanted to take him to the waterfront before the sunset. So you did, and the two of you sat on a bench, looking out into the calm waters.

Sam tore his gaze away from the sight in front of him and looked at you instead. The orange hues of the slowly setting sun were reflecting in your eyes and bathing you in the warm light.

“You never called.” Your calm tone broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked away from the waters to find a forlorn expression etched into Sam’s features. You stared at him for a second. He looked…tired. His shoulders were sagging like there was a weight tugging at them, and his hazel gaze told you that though the weight was seemingly invisible—it clearly affected him in more ways than one.

“I’m sorry about everything. For Jess’s death, for leaving…” Sam trailed off, looking away from you and closing his eyes shut. For potentially putting you in danger, for starting the apocalypse, the list went on and on for Sam.

You grabbed the hand that was closest to you, making his eyes open, and looked at you. “Look, I’ll be honest, I was mad at you for the longest time about how you left. How you didn’t bother going to her funeral and how you didn’t call. But I don’t blame you for leaving now. You were just coping with it differently.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Really?”

“Yeah. Besides, I can’t take credit for those last bits. That was mostly my therapist’s advice.” You couldn’t help the slight smirk that pulled at the edges of your lips.

Sam mirrored your smirk. “They seem like a smart person.”

“She is, and well, I pay her a lot to hear about my issues.”

Sam shook his head with a growing smile. Your sense of humor hadn’t changed a bit since he last saw you.

“Jess’s death wasn’t an accident.” Sam blurted out, making both of your smiles fade at his words.

You looked away from Sam, squeezing his hand. “I had a feeling, but I could never prove that it was.”

You looked back at Sam, and while the look in his eye said everything to you, he knew what had happened that night.

Sam took a deep breath and explained everything. From his childhood to what happened when his brother broke into his apartment to what happened to Jess, he summarized how crazy his life had been until today. Sam had talked so much that the sun was low below the horizon, and the dim lights on the waterfront illuminated your surroundings. You listened to him with a rapt gaze, hanging on to his words.

Sam was afraid that you wouldn’t take him seriously, that he was crazy, and that you would never want to see him again after tonight. When he was finished talking, Sam looked at you finally, anticipating seeing skepticism in your eyes but saw acceptance in them instead.

“You believe me?” Sam asked after seeing the look in your eyes.

“I’d have to be crazy not to.” You saw nothing but the truth in Sam’s hazel gaze as he spoke.

Sam didn’t think before replying. “You are crazy if you do.”

A surprised laugh escaped you. “What does that make you then?”

“Someone who’s grown up with this kind of stuff so it’s my normal.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “So crazier than me? You know because you grew up knowing that monsters existed.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

Another laugh left your lips, and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

“I can’t believe you actually believe me.”

You sighed. “Look, I came to terms with Jess’s death a lot more recently than I’d like to admit. But with the whole monster and demon stuff, it makes a whole lot more sense when trying to find closure and people tell you it was a freak accident.”

Sam nodded in understanding, scooting closer to you on the bench and squeezing your hand. “I still think about her. And you.”

“Same.” You whispered. “I don’t think there’s a day that I don’t think about the what ifs. How our lives would look if she didn’t die.” You admitted.

“Same here.” Sam sent you a sad smile filled with understanding. He took his free hand and gently cupped your cheek.

You couldn’t help but lean into his warmth. Sam’s eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours and resting his forehead on yours, making your eyes flutter shut at the contact.

“I missed you.” You whispered in the dwindling space between the two of you.

“I missed you too.” Sam responded before placing his lips on yours, pulling you into a tender kiss.

Sam’s lips felt like coming home. God, you had forgotten how the warm feeling in your chest spread throughout your body every time you kissed Sam. It was intoxicating to feel his lips on yours again. It also had a bittersweet nature to the reunion of your kiss.

It was unspoken the promise Sam poured into the kiss. Promises of keeping you safe, the promise of the potential of something new with you. It scared him, but as he sunk into the kiss, the feeling of warmth, the one so familiar with home, was with you—and he doesn’t know if he can part ways with you for good. So, he won’t. For the first time in his life, the weight has lifted. Only slightly, but it feels a whole lot bearable to have you here with him.

You guys pulled apart slowly, breaking the kiss. You guys breathed each other in as your foreheads rested against each other. You opened your mouth to say something, but a stomach growling interrupted you instead.

Both of you chuckled as you pulled away from each other. You sat up from the bench, Sam’s hands falling away from you as you did.

You extended a hand out to him. “Come on, I know a few spots around here for dinner.”

“Lead the way.” Sam said he grabbed your hand and got up from the bench.

Sam let you lead him down the waterfront, continuing from the page that the two of you had left on and into a new story—one with a happier ending.