#he was one of two to give me a walk-on high-five in june

[aislynn-wiley1999]

An Easy Decision

Sebastian x Reader One Shot

A year after graduating, Sebastian visits you unannounced and old memories stir.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, making out, oral sex, PinV sex, explicit sexual content, strong language, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 4.4k

Read it on AO3 here! Check out my other stuff as well :)

There was no way to describe how you had been feeling for the past day, month, year. As a fresh adult in the world, life had been increasingly monotonous and usual. Nothing out of place, nothing exciting, nothing frightening, just plain. Hogwarts had been a dream the last three years, but now that you had to work you felt as though the magic had been sucked from your life.

It wasn’t just because of working and surviving, but because your social interactions had dwindled. Work was boring, but it was your own fault. You didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life yet, so you told yourself you had one single year to work in a shop and figure it out. That was in June, and now it is April. Time was running out, and you were scared shitless. Keeping in touch with friends from school proved harder than intended, and while you meant to send letters it became more and more difficult to find ambition. Which was particularly embarrassing, since Slytherin’s were meant to have a never ending supply of ambition.

It was a quiet Friday in the small garment shop, and you were looking forward to the weekend. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than perhaps how quiet the shop was. Sitting behind the counter, reading a book lazily, you glance up when the bell on the door rings.

“Welcome in-” you stop, staring aghast at the person who has walked in, before smiling at them and letting out a small laugh. Sebastian Sallow stood in the doorway, grinning sheepishly at you and your surprised expression. He was one of the few friends you tried to keep in contact with, despite being busy and unmotivated.

“What are you doing here?” you shout out as you walk out from behind the counter. He doesn’t say anything right away as you wrap your arms around him, engulfing him in a hug. You feel him press his head into the crook of your neck, and you squeeze him tightly.

“Figured I would take a little birthday trip down here, visit old friends. Wanted it to be a surprise,” he says, pulling away with a smile. “And I have come to kidnap you on the promise of drinks on me.”

“Oh gods, yes, happy birthday!” you tell him, trying to cover up the fact that you had forgotten. But yes, today was 17 April, and his birthday had only been a few days earlier. “How does it feel to be nineteen?”

He laughs, giving a shrug. “Underwhelming, if anything. Do you have much longer here for the day?” he asks, clearly eager to get out and drink. You shake your head, smiling. “Give me fifteen minutes to count the money and lock up. It’s almost five anyways, and then we can go!”

You busy yourself closing the small shop, glancing up at him with a smile every so often. It was such a delight to see him, after almost a year of being apart. He looked good, tall and confident, and you could tell that he had grown into himself in the last year. There were this lingering feelings for him, of course, when you received a letter or thought of him on occasion, but right now it was just good to see your friend.

With a turn and lock, you closed the shop and the two of you ventured out onto the high street in search of drinks. “I’m thinking that maybe we head somewhere small,” Sebastian said, leading the two of you down the street. You nod, eager to sit and talk and drink. He looked radiant almost, the glow of the low sun illuminating him and his smiling face, his freckles practically glowing. It felt like nothing had changed since the last time you were together, and you loved that.

There was a small corner pub that seemed to beckon him, and he quickly pulled you inside. It was a Friday, so there were few spaces to choose from in the pub, but the two of you found a tiny booth situated in one corner. He left you there to buy the first round of drinks, quickly returning with two pints. Scooting over the accommodate him, the two of you pressed against each other in the tiny space as you drank your drinks.

“Please let me buy the next round, since it’s your bloody birthday,” you say, laughing as he shakes his head no. “This is my treat, for showing up unannounced,” he says, taking a gulp of his drink. “How have things been for you? We really must try to write to each other more.”

It was true, the two of you maybe exchanged letters once a month now. Life had gotten busy, for you and probably for him as well. “I’m mainly just working, nothing exciting,” you say, and then giggle. “This is embarrassing, but I can’t remember the last time I was in a pub on a Friday night.”

“Do you not like going out anymore? We could have gone and just gotten dinner, or even just taken a walk,” he says, his tone concerned. You find these suggestions sweet, a reminder of how caring he can be when he wants to be.

“No, I just don’t have much of a social life, and it would be pretty depressing if I came to the pub alone on a weekend,” you say, taking a swig of your drink. The golden liquid blooms in your chest, creating a warmth inside you. Sebastian nods in an understanding way. “That you be pathetic,” he says, grinning.

You laugh, and he laughs, and it's as though you have not been apart for the past nine months. “What have you been up to?” you ask him, trying to give him a chance to speak. He shrugs. “Same as you, just working. I went to see Ominis yesterday, poor bastard was also not expecting me and is sick as a dog.”

That statement seemed to answer your lingering question about why it was just the two of you out tonight. Unless he planned on more people meeting you there later. “Is anyone else coming tonight?” you ask, trying to get an answer. 

Sebastian’s smile wavers a bit, but only for a second. “Did you want other people to come?” he asks, almost trying to get an answer for himself. You shake your head, and he smiles. The two of you continue to drink your drinks, and soon you are staring at an empty cup.

Trying to fish out your wallet, he beats you to it and is at the bar in a flash. “Sebastian, I’m serious. Let me buy you at least one drink tonight as a celebration,” you protest as he comes back with full glasses. He only shakes his head, setting the drinks down.

“You can buy me one when I’m drunk,” he says, grinning. You don’t say anything, just sipping your drink while trying to hide your smile. You watch him out of the corner of my eye, how his throat moves when he swallows the alcohol. Perhaps it's the liquid running through your veins, but he looks better than he did in school. There was this new air of confidence surrounding you, and you wanted to say something bold but couldn’t bring yourself to it. Instead, you gulp the amber liquid in the hopes that the courage comes along the way.

“Woah! I didn’t actually mean that, neither of us need to get drunk before you buy me a drink,” Sebastian says, gently guiding the glass away from you. Giving him a funny look, you pull it back. “You don’t want to get drunk?”

He shakes his head, not smiling as big as he once was. “I don’t, not tonight, not with you.”

That makes you pause mid sip, thinking of all the ways his words could be interpreted. Looking at him, you furrow your eyebrows and hope he elaborates. Sebastian eyes you, looking shy and bashful in an instance. “Do you remember when we went to the Yule ball together last December?” he asks you.

You nod. Of course you did, even though the night hadn’t gone as planned. You had hoped that that was the night everything came full circle, that the two of you would get together. But instead, Sebastian drank too much and ended up throwing up in the bushes outside with you to witness it all. It was something the two of you laughed about later on, but you always felt disappointed.

“I wish I had kissed you that night,” he says, catching you completely off guard. “I regret drinking so much, but I was so nervous and wanted to feel confident, and I screwed it up. I screwed it up with you.”

Your mouth is half hanging open, not sure what to say. You are trying your best to process what he has just told you, just confessed, but you can’t for a minute. He waits expectantly for you to collect your thoughts and respond.

“So… you don’t want to get drunk tonight because… you want to kiss me?” you ask, feeling slow and out of touch. But when Sebastian laughs, it forces you to smile. “What?” you ask him, still smiling.

“I feel like wanting to kiss you is such an entry level requirement for everything else I want from you,” he says, his cheeks immediately turning red after saying that. Your’s go red as well, at what he could be implying. “But, I- why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, unsure of what else to say. 

“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I would have rather stayed your friend than, I don’t know, have scared you off with a big confession,” he said quickly. You shake your head, trying to convince him otherwise. “I don’t think you understand how much I would have reciprocated that confession,” you say, smiling.

“And now?” he says, looking at you with a sense of uncertainty. The smile on your face becomes a shy one as you look at him, unsure of how to say everything that you want to say. “I think that I look at you now, and all those feelings seem to have stayed with me. Like nothing has changed even though it’s been nine months since we’ve had a conversation,” you say, speaking truthfully. 

You don’t even get to look at the smile on his face for long before Sebastian leans in and presses a quick, soft kiss to your lips, pulling back after only a second. You instinctively lean forward as he pulls away, trying to catch his lips again, but he puts a hand on your arm. “Not here, in a pub surrounded by other people,” he says, his voice a whisper against your ear. You nod, understanding and agreeing. “Let’s go somewhere else, then.”

You nod. “I live with other people, though, and I have like, no privacy,” you tell him. He nods, and then continues. “I’m staying in an inn nearby,” he says, before shaking his head. You furrow your eyebrows in question, and he clarifies. “That just doesn’t seem right, me taking you to an inn. Not now, not after all this time.”

You shake your head at his words, not even having had that thought. “I just want to be near you, to make up for lost time.” The words out of your mouth surprise you with how bold they are, but you don’t back down. 

“Let’s just walk around until the morning,” he says, grinning. You smile but you shake your head again. “Take me back with you. I promise, I don’t care where we are.”

He nods before standing up, offering you a hand. You let him pull you out of the booth, and hand in hand you leave the half empty pints on the table.

—-------------------------------------------

The inn room is small, with nothing but a bed, a lamp, and a chest of drawers. There is a small bathroom to the left, and you spot Sebastian’s bags on one side of the floor. The two of you stood a few feet away from each other, unsure of where to go from here. As comfortable as you were with each other, it was clear that neither of you wanted to jump into bed with each other right away.

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you back here,” Sebastian said suddenly, looking embarrassed. You shake your head. “I just don’t know where to start, and I want to do this, I do, but I can’t fathom where to begin,” you say flustered. 

“Where to start? You don’t have to start or begin anything. I didn’t bring you here so you could perform or do anything for me. We can talk, or just stand here, or do whatever you want. Don’t feel pressured, and believe me, I’m probably more nervous being with you than you can imagine,” he says, running a hand through his hair with a smile. 

His words bring a sense of ease to you, maybe just what you needed to hear at that moment. You step forward until you’re right in front of him, letting him take one of your hands. Gingerly, you stand on your tiptoes and brush a kiss to his lips, waiting for him to move into it. For a moment, the two of you stand nose to nose, and then he closes the gap between you. 

The first few seconds are gentle and soft, testing the waters out for both of you. But soon, the movements of your lips become uncoordinated, desperate and fast. His hands find their way to your waist and you tangle yours in his hair. The two of you are standing, practically pulling the other person into them, trying to get as close as possible. 

“Can we- go to- the bed?” you breathe out in between kisses. He nods, and you climb onto the bed, pulling his weight on top of you. You let him cradle you as he presses slow kisses to your lips, his pace changing. He stops and looks at you, staring up from underneath him. “We don’t have to do anything else,” he says, looking at your face for hesitation.

“I want to,” you tell him. “I really, really do.”

Sebastian has a look on his face that betrays both nerves and excitement. It’s the same look that he had when he asked you to the Yule ball, over a year ago. He nods again, before pressing another soft kiss to your lips. He pulls back again, looking at you, before attaching his lips to your neck. You sigh, and the soft noise seems to ignite something in his brain.

He rolls both of you over, you being on top of his body now. In one swift move, he maneuvers the two of you so that you are sitting up and straddling him on the bed. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before practically smashing your lips together. There is a sense of urgency as you move, hands exploring each other as lips and tongues move together. 

You move your mouth, peppering light kisses along Sebastian’s jaw and down to his neck and you rock your body against him. He groans underneath you, your name leaving his lips as he rakes his hands over your back and down to your ass. Gripping you, he pulls you closer to him. Becoming impatient, you tug on his shirt in the hopes that he takes it off. The two of you break away for a moment, each tearing your own shirt over your body in a quick attempt to undress.

His hands come behind you, wanting to rid you of your bra, but he pauses. “Is this okay?” he asks, with a tone filled with concern. You press a light kiss to his lips, urging him to continue. “I promise I’ll say something if it’s not,” you breathe out, desperate for him to touch you. He seems to understand your urgency, and your bra is on the floor in the next second.

Sebastian stares at your chest, a look of marvel plastered on his face. In an instant, his lips are attached to your nipple, resulting in soft moans from you as you clutch his hair. “I need you, Sebastian,” you whisper as he sucks on the other nipple. He groans in response, pulling himself away from your chest. 

You attempt to reach a hand in between the two of you to touch him through his pants, but he stands with you wrapped around him, turning so that he can lay you gently on the bed. He touches your skirt with a light hand, looking at you for any hesitation. You don’t speak, but instead start to gather your skirt so that it bunches around your waist. You look at him, your eyes doing their best to say fuck me, please. Without a single word, you shimmy out of your underwear and invite him in.

Sebastian practically buries his face in you. His mouth and tongue make these obscene sounds as he licks, sucks, kisses, and laps at every part of your sex. The noises mix with the moaning and babbling that emerge from your mouth, and you’re saying these things that you never thought you would say. Things like more, oh fuck, Sebastian, I need more.

His hands are gripping onto the soft flesh of your hips and ass, pulling you closer to him. It almost feels as though he wants to swallow you whole as he works you with his mouth and lips. One of his hands disappears, and then you feel his fingers working their way inside of you. Gasping, you clench around the two fingers he has in you, feeling so full already from him. He moans into you, vibrating your lower half as he starts to pump his fingers in you. 

It’s too much, all too much. The way he is absolutely worshiping your body is going to cause you to explode. He’s curled his digits inside of you, his lips sucking like he can’t get enough, and you can feel your legs start to tremble. His name leaves your lips, and he does something extraordinary with his tongue that causes everything to shatter for you.

There’s no way to describe how good this all feels, except that perhaps you have touched the stars. He is still moving his fingers, his tongue, his lips, as you writhe and gasp on the bed. Once it becomes too much, you start to scoot away from his face, but he follows you with his hand.

“Oh god, it’s too much, please Sebastian,” you plead, shaking as he still pumps his hand into you. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and full of lust, as you try to move away from his hand. After a moment, he moves his hand and pulls his fingers out of you. You watched him, embarrassed, as he popped his fingers in his mouth. “Don’t do that,” you say, this shy feeling overcoming you.

“Why not? I just had my face buried in you,” he says, matter of factly, before grinning wickedly at you. You look down to where he is straining in his pants, and the desire to touch him overcomes you again. Sitting up slightly, you reach your hand out to the buttons on his pants.

He moves away from you, instead bending down to kiss you. “Please, let me touch you,” you say, reaching again for him. “I don’t want this to be over too quickly,” he says, cheeks running red. 

There’s a pause as you consider what he’s saying, and you look at him with a question written on your face. “I want to fuck you properly, and I know I won’t last if you use your mouth on me,” he explains, now really looking embarrassed. 

“Then do it,” you say, a sense of post-orgasm confidence running through you. You’re absolutely aching for him, and with your skirt hiked up and your flesh exposed you want him on you at this moment. There is a desire coursing through you, that only he can satisfy. “Please, Sebastian.”

Without another word, he climbs onto you and devours your lips in a needy kiss. Your bare core presses against his clothed erection, the sensation causing you to moan into his mouth. He immediately starts to grind himself against you, the two of you acting almost like crazed animals as you try to create a sense of friction. 

“Take them off,” you say, fiddling with his pants again. This time, he stands and obliges. You watch as he removes his trousers and underclothes, and stare as he bares himself for you. Now there was no sense of hiding from him, no sense of unknown. You clenched around nothing as you watched him give his length two quick pumps, the thought of what to come already driving you insane. 

“You know I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he says softly, climbing onto you again. “How I would take you, how you would look, what I would do to you. You’re perfect, absolutely perfect.” His head dips, kissing the outside of your breast. “And I want this to be perfect for you.”

“Sebastian,” you say, coming out more as a gasp than actual words. “Please, I think I might go insane if you don’t touch me.”

There is a hint of a smirk that comes over his face, and you feel him line your bodies up. His head bends down again to kiss you, whispering sweet things as he pulls his lips away. Gently, he slides himself into you, coaxing and teasing so that it causes you to feel every little bit. You both gasp in unison when he is fully inside you, a feeling of fullness and closeness like you had never experienced before. 

He doesn’t move for a moment. “I want to hear everything that comes out of your mouth,” he says, commanding you. You nod, the feeling of him already leaving you dazed and delicious. Slowly, he pulls out. And then he pushes in again, slow and deep, and you can’t hold back.

There are these babbling words and sounds coming out of your mouth as he fucks you, rotating and snapping his hips. Words like fuck, oh god, please Sebastian, don’t stop, feels so good. Things you never imagined you would say, at least not before today. But now it feels natural as they tumble out, mixed with gasps and moans. You intentionally tighten slightly around him, and it brings noises and words from him. He’s calling you perfect, so good, an angel, beautiful, and everything else you could want to hear from him. 

His thrusts are rhythmic, deep and precise. There is no great urgency between you, instead just relishing in the movements of each other. You bring your legs around his back, hands clawing at his back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he says, his eyes shut as he moves in and out of you. All you can do is moan in response, no real thoughts left in your head.

But then you feel something else. Sebastian has slipped a sneaky hand in between you, pressing languid circles into your clit as he moves. He has started to get sloppy, his hips snapping with less of a rhythm, and you know he wants you to finish first. The combination of his hand and his length pumping in you cause you to arch away from the bed, his name coming out in gasps as you feel everything. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of everything, and with one firm press into your clit you fall over.

Everything is on fire on your body, you can’t help it. You grab onto one of your breasts, needing to feel something more as you come. He is still saying things to you, things that only seem to drag out the feeling. “You’re doing so well, oh my god, you look so perfect,” he breathes out, his movement messy. You moan his name loudly one last time, and that’s it for him. He groans, thrusting three more times before collapsing on top of you. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him as he buries his head into your hair. He lazily kisses your neck and jaw, as if he wants to taste your skin. Your fingers stroke his hair lightly, both of you breathing loudly and not really moving.

“Was that okay?” he asks suddenly, lifting his head up a bit to look at you. 

“I feel like ‘okay’ is a massive understatement,” you tell him, a smile emerging on your face. He matches your smile, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Why did you not want to bring me here originally?” you ask, causing him to drop his smile. Sebastian thinks for a moment, looking almost embarrassed.

“I just- I felt like you deserved more than the bed at an inn. And I have to go back home in two days, and it just didn’t feel right for you. For how I feel about you, the way I wanted you. But I’m glad you talked me down from thinking that,” he says, his smile returning. You nod, understanding what he means. “And how do you feel about me, or how do you want me?” you ask, almost shyly. 

But Sebastian grins wider, and you feel foolish for asking. “I like you. It’s been hard, these last few months without you. And I think that we could be great together, that you should move closer to me or I should move closer to you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

You nod, a sense of relief flooding your mind. He lays his head back on you, and for a moment you say nothing. But then you remember something, and giggle. He lifts his head back up slightly, giving you a confused look. 

“You’re still inside me,” you say, moving slightly. His eyes widen and he slips out of you gently, pressing a small kiss to your temple as he does so. He stands up, heading to the bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, he turns to look at you laid out naked on the bed. “So you’ll have me, then?” he asks you with a soft smile.

“Of course I will,” you say, it being one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made. “Of course, Sebastian.”

[cowgurrrl]

Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks. 

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones. 

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her. 

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look. 

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk." 

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?" 

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything." 

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden. 

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane." 

"It's annoying, right?" 

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care. 

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan. 

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some." 

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh. 

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that. 

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence. 

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says. 

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles. 

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks. 

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back. 

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home. 

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it. 

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did. 

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting. 

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man. 

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans. 

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me. 

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel." 

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless. 

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone. 

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain. 

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that? 

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week. 

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine. 

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans. 

"Feisty." 

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms. 

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him. 

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils. 

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs. 

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good." 

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure. 

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming. 

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom. 

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?" 

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet. 

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing. 

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01

[abouttofillhisshoes]

You look so alive - M.H x Reader // pt4

A/N: Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me? Matty finally gets some. Almost. TW: Hard drugs, please take care of yourselves! Also very NSFW, minors dni. Ilysm @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff my one and only. I was concerningly high writing most of this, sorry if there are any spelling mistakes of any sort. Enjoy yourselves my loves❤️

wc: 5.5k

part five

June, 2008

Saturday morning, the sun is shining brightly through your curtains. The clock reads 8:32am. You’re awoken by a harsh knock on your window. Matty. You smile

Today is a particularly good day. It's your Birthday, your 18th, to be exact. You get up, and you can already hear the metaphorical birds chirping outside of your window. Slowly walking to your window, you're greeted by Matty grinning at you through the glass. 

“There's my birthday girl,” he says, pulling you in for a hug. The ‘my’ makes your heart skip a beat, but you inevitably push the feeling down. ‘Not now’.

The hug lasts a few seconds too long as he buries his face in your hair, taking a deep breath. Your hands trail down the expanse of his back, lingering around his waist. He releases you, climbing into the room. 

You get dressed. A black dress, lace and frills adorning the edges. Matty is wearing his blue Barcelona shirt. He managed to get the stains out of it, you notice. His favorite pair of skinny jeans cling to his legs, even if just a bit looser.

Watching you do your makeup, he smiles at you endearingly. It had been two months since he hung up on you. You didn't talk about it, you never did. What was the point? It would just bring up more confusing feelings you weren't ready to deal with. Things were better the way they were, and they stayed like that. Until they didn't. 

You finish rather quickly, turning to look at him. He knows that look.

“You got any on you?” you ask. 

He nods, grinning as he reaches into the back pocket of his pants. He pulls out a red cigarette case, opening it slowly as you sit down next to him. In it, were two pre rolled spliffs. Next to them, was the thing you were actually asking about. A baggie filled with white powder. 

Ever since that night, you’d wanted to experience what you felt again. Over and over. Matty already knew a few good guys who had set decent prices. He started picking up for the both of you, always splitting the sum. You reached into your pocket to pull out the cash for your portion, but he pushed your hand away. 

“It's your birthday, darling, I can't let you pay for anything, it wouldn't be right.” he winks at you. Darling. You nod, laying back onto the bed, watching him. 

He searches your room for something to cut the lines with, settling on your Hollister members card. Grabbing your bio notebook, he shakes just enough of the substance onto the surface for both of you. 

You snort yours first, moving out of the way to give Matty his go. The both of you stare at each other before breaking out into uncontrollable laughter, falling into each other's arms. You lay like that for a bit, before Matty gets up. 

“C’mon, we’re taking you out for your birthday. The big one-eight!” he laughs, clearing off the surface. He rubs the remainder on your gums. The feel of his fingers in your mouth is strangely erotic, you involuntarily let out a soft moan. He looks at you funny, and you shake your head, brushing it off. He tucks the cigarette case back into his jeans.  

You go through the front door this time, knowing your mother was at the office. On your 18th birthday, your own parent had decided work was more important. Fuck her, honestly. You don't lock the front door, knowing you wouldn’t be able to find your keys later. 

The two of you take the short walk to the local corner shop, Adam, Ross, and George already standing there with… balloons? 

A giant pink balloon floated over Hann’s head, and he grins at you as you walk towards him.

“For the birthday girl– a pretty pink balloon.” you can hear the other three boys sniggering behind your back. With a roll of your eyes, you take the balloon from him, holding it awkwardly.

The bell rings as you open the door to the shop, greeting Becca, the woman behind the counter, with a smile. She waves back, already turning around to grab a pack of your favourite fags for you. The two of you were friends, having met at a party a few years back. She sold you whatever you needed, ignoring the fact you were underage for years. 

Her eyebrows raise as she notices the balloon. “It's my birthday today!” you say, louder than expected. She shook her head, immediately noticing something off. Placing the bottle of vodka on the counter, you hand her your I.D with a toothy grin, and she scans it. 

“It's on the house, darling, but..” she trails off, leaning into you. You do the same, listening intently. “Lay off a bit, your pupils are fucking huge and its 10 in the morning” her words take you by surprise. Taking a look in the mirror of the shop bathroom, you confirm her statement. 

Splashing some cold water onto your face, you shake off the feeling of dread. Today was a good day, nothing was going to ruin it. You take a pair of sunglasses out of your bag. They were pink with a black rim, complimenting your outfit. 

You make your toward the exit, fags and vodka in hand, waving goodbye to Becca. She smiles at you, but it looks off. You ignore it, pushing the door open with your shoulder. Matty greets you with a smile, taking the bottle off you. 

You look to your left to see George welding what looked like a Sainsburys shopping cart. Cocking an eyebrow, you walk toward him. George takes the balloon, tying it to the shopping cart before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Go on, get in birthday girl,” you give him a skeptical look, before you feel hands gripping your waist. Flailing in the air, you realize Ross had picked you and was now placing you into the cart. Inside was a 6 pack of beer, and various food items. 

You flip Ross off, cursing him out for basically throwing you into a metal shopping cart. The five of you spend the day like that, riding around. You cruise down highways, and at some point, Matty gets in with you. You're both pressed up against each other, legs intertwining.

A blue ferrari whizzes past you, honking aggressively. Neither of you was sober enough to care, throwing beer bottles after the car, narrowly missing it. Adam was paranoid that the driver was going to call the cops, but he was promptly ignored by the rest of you. 

For some reason or another, you end up in a McDonald's parking lot. It's dirty and fairly empty, tire tracks marking up the pavement. George had paid for your food, and you were all munching away happily at your burgers. Matty was moaning into his chicken burger like it was heaven as a food item.

“Jesus mate, I'm not sure I want to hear your sex noises while trying to enjoy my food, tone it down, will you?” Ross says, pulling a face. Matty responds by letting out a loud groan, licking the sauce off of his fingers. 

“You love my sex noises, don't lie. Remember that time I was shagging Ava in the loo at George's party and you were standing outside the whole time?” he says with a full mouth. Ross shakes his head, whispering quiet words of denial. 

Matty shoots you a look, and you nod. “I need a piss,” you say, getting up. “Matty?” 

He gets up, wiping his hands on Hann’s shirt, and he smacks him across the face. Matty just laughs, turning to leave with you.  

“Why do you always go piss together? A bit weird, innit?” George comments, cocking an eyebrow. “We’re going for his hourly blowjob, George, didnt you know?” you joke, nudging Matty in the ribs. A collective “Ewww” sounds from the group as you leave. 

The bathroom is a borderline health hazard, the sinks covered in a type of grime you can only describe as slimy. Matty swipes it off as best he could, taking the red cigarette case back out. He goes through the routine, cutting up two lines with that same Hollister card. 

“D’you have any cash on you?” he asks, giving your frame a once over. You nod, taking out a tenner from your bra. 

His eyes linger on you, and you feel naked, exposed. He knew. He knew why you had gone out that night. He knew about the dream, you were sure of it. 

He chuckles as he sees where you’d been keeping the money before rolling it and handing it to you, ever the gentleman. 

This line felt different, stronger. You assume he cut more than last time. Taking a sip from the sink, you fix your hair in the mirror, wiping under your nose. Matty does his line. He gathers the loose powder onto his middle and index fingers, his other hand cupping your face. Rubbing onto your gums, you can feel them start to go numb. He holds eye contact, as if he were waiting for something. He got what he wanted when you let out a soft groan, your eyes never leaving his.

His hand leaves your jaw, instead running through his air. He doesn't put the cigarette case away just yet, taking one of the zoots out. Handing it to you, you tuck it away in your pocket. 

Making your way outside, you notice the streetlamps were already on. Was it that late already? The guys had already finished their food, wrappers littering the inside of the cart. They were standing next to each other, like they were waiting. You walk up to George, cheekily pulling out the joint from your pocket. 

“Sweet! But before that, we have something for you,” you look confused. Adam then takes his hands from behind his back, revealing a square velvet box. You take it, glancing at Matty. He nods, signaling at you to open it. 

Inside is a silver necklace, in the shape of a star. Not any star though, it was the same shape as the tattoo you had on your hip. Before you could stop them, tears welled up in your eyes, dripping down onto the metal. 

“Fuck you– did you really?” you ask, your vision blurry. They all nod, taking a step closer, giving you a half-awkward group hug. Matty stroked your hair, taking the necklace out of its box. His fingers are like electricity against your skin as he moves your hair out of the way, undoing the clasp of the necklace. 

“Thank you so much– fuck i’m crying,” your hand wipes at your face, taking some of your mascara with it. “God, I'm so pathetic.” Your heart filled with love for your friends, and you gave them each an individual hug. Ross lets out a deep chuckle, wiping more of your tears. Fucking hell.

Mattys hug is long, once again burying his face into your hair. He squeezes you, his hands resting on your waist when he pulls away. You fight the urge to kiss him. No, not now.

Forcing yourself to get your shit together, you walk toward the giant, half-drank bottle of vodka, taking a swig. 

You hear the others talking amongst themselves, with Ross raving on about the latest Macclesfield town game and how much they sucked.

“They played like the ball had been invented 15 minutes before they were set to play,” he scoffed, finishing his beer, smashing the bottle on the floor, the shards scattering around him. No one knew why he did that, he just did. 

Matty was stood next to you, his shoulder pressed against yours, headphone wires between you. The sun was starting to set, the purple light making Matty look ethereal. You really, really wanted to kiss him. But you don't, instead opting to pick at your freshly manicured nails. 

The two of you sat there, next to each other, neither daring to move. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------

“You have to sanitize everything so you dont cause some sort of gnarly infection, yeah?” Rome explained, wiping down the needle with a disinfectant wipe. You watched intently, making a mental note. 

He had agreed to teach you how to pierce people when you vaguely mentioned having an interest in it. Rome wasn't the best, but he had done your bellybutton pretty well, so why not?

The needle looked intimidating, your hands shaking slightly as you gripped the base. He was letting you pierce his ear for practice, on the condition you promise you won't completely fuck it up.

The jewelry he had picked was a silver cross with red details that shimmered when you held it to the light. You had commented on it, and he mentioned he had some similar jewelry for your type of piercing. Humming in response, you thanked him as he gave it to you, even going so far as to switch it out. 

Rome was calm, trusting you fully. “Just slowly push it in, and thread the jewelry through the top part. After that, just pull it through. It's simple really, just don't fuck up.” he shoots you a grin, and you laugh at him sarcastically.

With laser focus, you pierce the needle through the marked skin in one go, ignoring his pained hiss. The jewelry went in without a hitch, and Rome got up to admire your work. 

“S’not bad for your first time,” he said with a wink, and you roll your eyes, thanking him for letting you do this. 

You say goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek, slamming the front door shut. 

Matty had called you earlier, asking if you wanted to come over to his. His parents were gone, and he had the house to himself. 

Your bag clinked as you slung it over your shoulder, walking the short distance to his house. The setting sun shone into your eyes, and you take out those same sunglasses you had worn on your birthday. 

Knocking on the door, it's not long before Matty answer. He's wearing a dark green zip up, black sweatpants hanging low on his waist. The skin of his chest peaks out from underneath the thick material. You swallow, hard.

He lets you in, and you make your way to the wine fridge (yes, wine fridge), pulling out an unopened bottle of Merlot. He takes two fresh glasses out of the cupboard, and you pour a healthy amount into them.       

You and Matty spent most of your time getting hammered and talking nonsense and watching nonsense TV. Nothing seemed to make sense around him. Your heart was beating against your ribcage as if it was trying to break out of your chest. You sit down, laying your head down onto his chest. 

The telly was turned up, some cartoons playing. You just couldn't focus on anything. You nudge Mattys hip, giving him a look and he knew. Getting off him, you sit down onto the floor next to the posh crystal coffee table. He came back, holding a baggie filled with more blow than you had ever seen in your life. 

“Where'd you even get that much? Christ Matty, that's like 400 quid worth of the stuff in one bag.” he smiles at you.

“My parents are rich, remember? 400 quid is a dinner date for them.”

You can't help but grin, scooting closer to the table. He cuts two lines for both of you, and you do yours straight off the table, not even caring. 

The two of you return to your previous position on the sofa, with you pressed up against his chest. You've abandoned the glasses, decided to just drink from the bottle. Who was watching? 

His heart was beating in his chest, you could hear it. Your hands wander to his waist, pulling him close. 

He loses a hand in your hair, scratching your scalp in the way he knew you liked. Your breathing is shallow, you feel lightheaded, all because of fucking Matty. You attempt to convince yourself there is nothing there, spending endless nights pondering, trying your hardest to get him out of your head. 

His hand moves down to your jaw, playing with your earrings. His skin feels hot. You feel hot. 

Matty turns your head, angling it toward him. You were looking at each other now. The look in his eye indiscernible as they darted all over your face, landing on your lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and he sucked in a deep breath before connecting his wet lips with yours. 

Gripping the back of your neck, he maneuvers you on top of him. Both of your legs were on either side of his, straddling him. He moaned into the kiss, tilting his head slightly to the left. 

You take over the kiss, biting down onto his lower lip, hard. He's breathless, gasping for air as he pulls away. You stare at each other, out of breath and sweating. 

“What are yo-,” you start,

“Shut up, just– be quiet.” 

He pulls you back in, your lips crashing against his. His hand travels down to cup your chest through your shirt, tweaking your nipple. He groans, the noise turning into a high-pitched moan as you dig your nails into his scalp. 

“You like that?” you ask, giving his hair a tug. The whimper that comes out of his mouth is all the confirmation you need. 

You stop again, and your eyes meet his. His chest moves up and down in rapid succession, and you can feel his heart beat even quicker. 

“I don't- just please– fuck, don't stop.” he pleads with you, his hand trailing down your lower back. The look on his face is delicious. He's begging. A bead of sweat runs down his face, disappearing into his hair. 

Your lips connect with his neck, biting down into his skin. The noises that escape him can only be described as pornographic, his voice reverberating through the room, the high ceilings amplifying them. 

Continuing your attack on his throat, you listen to the sounds he lets out, drinking them in. It was music to your ears, hearing him like that. Because of you. 

Matty presses a hand to your chest, making you stop.  

“Maybe we shouldn't- I mean, wouldn't it be weird?”

You nod in agreement, sitting up on top of him. It would be weird around the others. You try to seem unbothered, it's not like you felt anything for him. Of course you loved him, as a best mate, and all of this had been a horrible mistake.  

A nervous laugh leaves his lips, morphing into a genuine one. “Can you imagine? Us? Hann’d lose his mind.” you crack a smile, imagining Adam's reaction to your current position. 

You slowly get off of him, turning your attention to the abandoned bottle of wine laying on the table. Picking it up, you gulp the rest down, wiping your mouth clean. Clean of Matty. You know it's wrong to want him like this, to want to feel his skin against yours. You ignore every primal instinct telling you to get back on him, to kiss him again, instead, you make yourself comfortable on the floor.  

He turns the telly up, switching to a news channel instead. You didn't dare look at him, afraid of what you’d see. You feel a tap on your shoulder. “Y’know, just because we stopped.. doesn't mean you can't like, lay on me and stuff.” he gestures to himself before patting the space next to him. 

“Lots of people would pay good money to be able to touch me, so you better make the most of it,” a grin spreads onto his face as you get up. 

You lay back down, settling into him completely. This is fine. This is totally fucking fine. Sucking in a deep breath, you turn your attention to the TV in front of you, losing yourself in the colors. 

His hand searches for yours, intertwining your fingers with one another. What was he doing? A million thoughts run through your mind. One thing was clear, you definitely needed another drink. 

Time passed, becoming more and more irrelevant as the hours ticked by. The two of you had moved to his bed, lying next to each other. Bon Jovi’s ‘Vienna’ played softly through your headphones, his voice piercing your thoughts. Despite what he might tell other people, Matty loved Bon Jovi. He would rave on about his music for hours, and you would listen to every word, a familiar warmth spreading through you. Adoration.

Matty had already fallen asleep, softly snoring into the pillow. You turned off the music, slowly taking out the headphone from his ear. He stirred for a second, muttering something in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.

You look at him, hair falling over his face in loose curls. The soft sound of his breathing filled the air, acting as a sort of white noise for you. You lay down facing him, and stroke his face lightly. He was beautiful like this, peaceful. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

Morning came slowly, the sun gradually peaking through the blinds as it came up. Matty woke up before you, getting ready quietly before shaking you awake. You borrowed some of his clothes, pulling on a black and yellow striped shirt over a pair of his jean shorts. He opted for just layering a black tank top underneath the outfit he already had on.

The walk to the bus stop was quiet, the sound of chirping birds filling your ears. It was a Monday morning, so both of you were sober and ready to learn (ugh). Once again walking arm in arm, you had gotten to the stop earlier than intended, sitting down on the metal bench. 

Neither of you spoke about the previous night. It was better that way. Matty got out a pack of cigarettes, pulling out two. One for you, one for him. He lights yours. 

You spot the bus, throwing your half smoked cigarette to the ground, and he does the same. He leads you to the front of the bus, giving you the window seat. Matty loved the window seat. 

His head is once again in your lap, acting like the past 12 hours simply hadn't happened. You were content with that, softly stroking his hair, curling and uncurling it with your grown out nails. “Let's skip last lesson,” he suggests “George is at his nans anyway. What's the point?” you nod in agreement, leaning your head against the glass. 

Neither of you had bothered bringing anything today, both your bags only filled with lighters, makeup, and maybe the occasional notepad. The halls are unusually empty for this time of day, but you just brush it off. You and Matty trudge to the classroom, flinging open the door to be met with a very angry looking Mrs. Sexton  

She has a go at you, yelling about how it's ‘incredibly disrespectful’ to come 15 minutes late to her class again. You offer her a shrug, sitting down at your usual table. Matty is quiet today, hungover and way too sober to say anything to the insults being strewn at him from a few tables back. The group of boys won't let up, chatting shit the entire lesson. You ignore them.

Class ends, and you’re walking down the halfway arm in arm, talking about how much Mrs. Sexton fucked you off. 

“Look at him, fucking fairy, isnt he? Even his little girlfriend wont snog him. Disgusting,” They spit at you, laughing in their little group. The comment made about you makes Matty turn around.

“D’you know why i'm not snogging her, mh?” he stares daggers into the guy whoever dared to utter a word at you, running his hand through his hair. “I’ve been too busy fending off your girl, talking ‘bout ‘oh please make me cum Matty, my boyfriend never touches me right-” A punch to the gut punctuates his sentence, making him fall to the ground. 

Matty doesn't stay down too long, getting up and throwing himself at the bloke who hit him, tackling him. He starts hitting him properly, throwing punches at his head. In turns, the guy smacks him across the face, making Matty roll off of him. 

Eventually, the guys' mates pull them apart, spitting more insults at Matty and you. Matty spits on the ground infront if him, giving him a wink. The two of you then book it down the hallway to the nearest loo, locking yourselves in. 

The moment you both look at each other, laughter fills the space. “You're mental, you know that?” you say through giggles, wiping the tears from your eyes. “He could've actually hurt you!- Fuck, your eye.” you see a gash underneath his left eye, it was bleeding. 

Grabbing as much toilet roll as you could, you hold it to the cut, trying to stop the bleeding. “Oh, bugger off, it's nothing.” he says, wincing as you press down harder. “Don't even try to do your ‘oh i'm so masculine’ schtick with me, I swear to god.” your hand holds his head, making it easier for you to press the paper against his cheek. 

Thats when you realise how fucking close your face is to his. He’s sitting on the closed toilet lid, and you're on your knees, of all places. Last night was really, truly, messing with your mind. His leg twitches slightly, eyes peering down at you. You can see him take a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. 

You feel a blush creep onto your cheeks as you look up at him. Silence fills the room, the only sound being your knees shuffling against the tile. His legs spread slightly, allowing you to scoot toward him. This is so fucked up.

“Can I kiss you?” his voice comes out meek and non-committal, eyes avoiding yours. 

“Only if you look at me, Matty.” you answer, straightening your knees, making yourself taller.

He forces himself to meet your gaze, pulling his lip in between his teeth. You nod, bringing your face to his, but not letting your lips touch. That was his choice. 

His eyes bore into yours, as if he was trying to peer into your soul. He probably was. 

“You're so beautiful,” he says, sounding confident, sure. He closes the gap between you, his hand grabbing at the base of your neck. You moan into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck. The blush that was previously confined to just your face spreads all over your body, making you feel as if you were on fire. Matty lit your skin on fire. 

Then, he did something you didn't expect. He got up, taking you with him. With a force you didn't think he had, he pushed you up against the wall. Your mind couldn't comprehend what was happening. His whimpers fill the bathroom stall as you rake your nails down his back, digging them into it.

You gasp when he brings a knee up between your thighs, pushing up further. Breathless, you pull away, gasping for air. His hand traces up and down your jawline, nails scratching the skin. He places a peck onto your cheek, then your chin, making his way down your neck. You have no choice but to moan whenever his lips make contact with your skin, silently begging for more. 

The bathroom door slams open, a group of girls piling in. Matty slaps a hand over your mouth, stifling your noises before anyone could hear. They start talking, and all you could do was focus on trying to not make a sound as Mattys knee moved up even higher. You look at him, panic in your eyes. You desperately didn't want to get caught.

He listens to your silent pleas, lowering his knee from its position. His mouth catches your lips in another kiss. The two of you stay like that until the girls decide to clear out, closing the door behind them. He tastes like cigarette smoke, then again, so do you. He interlocks his fingers with yours, pressing them up against the door. His tongue dances with yours, and you feel sparks of electricity travel up your spine.

He moans your name, your hand gripping at the roots of his hair, pulling tightly. He seemed to respond most when you did that. He responded to pain. Your nails digging into his back, your teeth biting his lip. Everything suddenly made sense, especially the time you had cut his hair. Those sounds he had disguised as coughs weren't cries of pain, but of pleasure. 

You file away that information for another time, if there would even be another time. “Let's get you home,” you say, pressing a hand to his chest. His expression caused you physical pain, looking down at you like a kicked puppy. 

You didn't want to want him like this, but your body and mind had apparently made a different decision. You lead him out of the stall, out of the bathroom and down the hall, making your way to the parking lot. The air was thick, but somehow still comfortable. You could feel his eyes on you for most of the walk to his house. For the first time since you had met, you were the one walking him home. 

Hugging him at the door to his house, he leaned in to kiss you. You let him, his hands gripping your waist like it truly was his anchor to reality. This goodbye felt different, it felt hard. 

 

// Matty //

Picture a scene: A darkened room, the only light coming from cracks in the curtains. The sheets are cold against his skin, giving him a sense of comfort. 

His hands trace down his chest, grazing the skin lightly. He repeats the movement, sighing as his fingers linger over his nipples. The room is warm, or maybe that's just him. Regardless, he takes off his shirt, throwing it into a corner somewhere in his room.

He thinks about the kiss. The way your bodies moved against each other as if it were second nature. It felt right. Your lips against his, moans leaving his mouth involuntarily. He broke the kiss first, not wanting to go too far. He so desperately wanted to.

He couldn't hold back in the bathroom, with you looking up at him like that, eyes full of worry for his well being. He had fought for you, trying to defend your honor like some sort of disney prince. It did work, but he didn't like to fight. It wasn't who he was as a person. It wasn't who Matty was around you. 

He palmed himself through his boxers, a groan tearing itself from his throat. He imagined it was your hand instead of his, the mental image of you with him, in this position, made all the blood in his head rush to his cock. The pressure was almost too much. Almost.

He imagined you above him again, your eyes never leaving him, always looking at him. His body yearned for your attention, for your touch. The shuffling of his boxers down his thighs is incredibly loud in the near silent room, the bed creaking beneath him. 

He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, the tip leaking precum. Tugging at himself, he closes his eyes, picturing you. The way your neck cranes to look at him when he's laying on top of you. The way your lips wrap around the opening of a wine bottle, the liquid sloshing down your throat. The way you kissed him, taking complete control of the action. Taking complete control of him. 

He can feel himself getting close, teetering on the edge. His noises get louder, echoing through the room. Attempting to muffle himself, he shoves his head into his pillow, biting down. It's useless, he starts helplessly rutting into the mattress, begging for release. He imagines your voice, telling him to ask you for permission. 

“P-please– fuckkk,” he stutters out.

No one can hear him, he knows that well enough. He just can't stop himself. He comes, hard, spilling into his hand. 

He lays there, sweating, panting. The only thought in his clouded mind: You.   

[toomuchracket]

he would want to rent a cottage/cabin or something like that (cotswolds/Joshua tree/nice/Yosemite) and play house with you when you’re not already living together. just cooking, exploring, fucking, sleeping and talking alllll day

combining with I feel like the vibe would be to get out of the city and just have some decompression time in the countryside. Regardless of AU, girly is working in a major city, Matty is jet-setting and both are likely city fatigued and need to spend some alone time with a beautiful view and about that holiday thing… i’ve had a really fluffy & romantic brainrot about driving to the english countryside with matty :’) not thinking about that one video OR maybe ireland?? i think it would be the cutest either during summer of autumn. don’t really have anything too specific in mind. (except they’d obviously have a lot of sex lol and if they’re staying at a cute b&b place they’d have to try and be pretty quiet because the walls are sooooo thin) just super cute, domestic cottage core/english murder mystery vibes and That’s so funny you should say that abt going away bc i’m on my way home from a weekend up at my family’s cottage up north and i would have loved to bring him along like a little lapdog in a purse 😭 like lazing around riverbanks, cuddling up and sharing a joint by the bonfire, finding cute little trails and having impromptu picnics sksndkdnfb

this to me feels quite birthday party coded, quite early in the relationship before you move in together, and before both of you busy little bees have properly developed the rhythms of being together and working and whatnot! anyway, it comes about because both you and matty are finding london exhausting, and you have the same week in late june free, so matty's like "fuck it. let's just go away for a few days, just us and mayhem and nothing and nobody else. i'll drive, we'll get a cottage somewhere nice and we'll just... relax", and you're like "that sounds dreamy let's do it". and in my head you literally stay in kate winslet's house from The Holiday (despite the fact it is not real), that cosy little cottage in the middle of a literal field - as soon as the door is opened, mayhem bolts in and settles himself somewhere unknown, which makes you both laugh (you find him later on a chaise longue in a spare bedroom snoring his sweet head off), and matty takes the opportunity to be like "i'm being so gratuitous here but just let me have a moment" before he scoops you up bridal style and carries you in, kissing you as he sets you down on the kitchen counter. you're like "we've been here five seconds and you're already acting like some austenian romantic hero. this is amazing. hitting several of my fantasies if i'm honest", and matty giggles like "give me five minutes to bring the bags in and then i'll carry you to bed and hit some more of them, if you want" - you're like "ok but if you take your shirt off while you bring in the bags you'll have hit another one already", and matty rolls his eyes but does it anyway because tbh his one goal in life is to turn you on (and oh, watching his biceps flex and back muscles ripple does it to an insane degree). so yeah, that's the first of many sex sessions in the cottage, after which you get cleaned up and redressed and walk hand-in-hand into the little village nearby to get some shopping; fancy wine, cheese, bread, fruit, all that good stuff, and ingredients for a proper cooked breakfast for the next morning, before heading back to just sit in the garden and watch the sunset together with your little cheeseboard dinner and a bottle of wine and honestly a joint too. matty abandons his "i am not letting you fuck up your lungs" bit so you can get high with him, and you sit giggling and kissing until you're sleepy and the two of you decide to go to bed - you fall asleep almost instantly, because of the wine and the weed and the fresh air.

the next morning, a lie-in after a great long sleep - more sex, then a shower, then matty cooking breakfast while you sit on the sofa with mayhem and coo at him (which makes matty go all gooey lol). it's not too hot or sunny, so you decide to spend the day taking mayhem for a loooooooooong walk along the river; he goes in for a swim and its the happiest you've ever seen him. naturally, matty considers moving out of the city then and there lmao. the three of you end up in a pub beer garden for dinner, you and matty chatting nonsense over your pints, before heading back "home" and having a bubble bath together with some wine, which inevitably leads to yet more sex. it's a perfect few days, which is something matty addresses when you're cuddled into his chest, listening to the birds and watching the sunlight stream through the curtains, on your final morning in the cottage - he's like "this has been perfect, waking up and spending my days with you. don't wanna go home", and you're like "neither do i. want to just be with you all the time". and then matty has an absolute eureka moment and says quietly "will you move in with me, please? really don't think i can go back to living alone and making breakfast by myself. s'a lot better when you've got your arms wrapped around me lol", and you kiss him softly and say "yes, i will", and you do!! i also think you write a little free-form essay about the trip when you get back to london, with an epigraph from another of your fav classic romantic female authors that perfectly describes how you feel about your own love interest: "whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" <3

[janicho88]

The Trouble with Co-Stars

Pairing- Jensen, x Female! Reader

Word count- 9,154

Warnings- Possible language, some angst, implied smut, bad co-stars/bullying, manipulation, mentions of cheating. 

A/N-  This is for @deanwanddamons 3k Follower Challenge three’s a crowd.  Congrats girl!!  You deserve each and every one!  Prompts Quote- You know who starts a sentence with ‘truth is’? Liars. Troupe-secret dating and Third wheel-coworker.  

This takes place during hiatus between season 2 and 3 of Supernatural. I’ve changed the years the guys filmed some of their other movies.  This is unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.

Summary- Filming has just wrapped on season 2 and you are leaving Vancouver for the summer.  Summer is busy with a movie you are excited to be working on, even though it’s going to take you away from someone special to you.  He has his own movie to film in California.  That’s not a big deal right?  Meeting new people can be a good thing for both of you, or not.

🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞

“That’s a wrap on season two of Supernatural!” you hear the episode director, Bob Singer call out.

Looking over at Jared and Jensen they are high fiving and congratulating those around them.  Jensen looks up catching your eye, giving you a wink, he turns back to the people around him.  

You smile and nod to those you pass on the way to the guys.

“Drinks at The Diamond, eight o'clock!” Jared calls out.

“Better see you all there!” Jensen adds.

Looking at your watch you notice that is two hours away.  Trisha comes over and gives you a side hug, “ready to party tonight?  Maybe we can even find you a guy?” she suggests with a nudge. 

“You’re going to find me a guy just before I leave for hiatus.  Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Well, he can be a guy for the night then.  Or you could just stay in Vancouver until next season starts.”

You laugh at that.  “So, tempting, but I already have a movie lined up in Chicago.  That will keep me busy most of May and June.”

“Ugh, fine.”

She heads over to the guys as you change directions and move to gather your things from your chair.  Jensen comes over as you finish up.

“Hey.”

“Hey, congrats on finishing season two, and getting the good news on season three.”

“Thank you, right back at you.  You are coming out tonight, right?”

“Maybe for a little bit, I have packing I need to finish.”

“You have all day tomorrow to do it.”

“I thought that was when I was going to end up helping with yours?”

“Well, I won’t turn down the help.”

Jared calls Jensen back over, and you leave the set, heading for your trailer.  This past week you’ve worked on picking up and packing your items in there.  Your apartment lease is through the month of July and you plan on renewing it when you return, so you will be able to leave whatever you don’t have to take home there.  Loading up your vehicle, you leave the studio behind for the next few months.

You don’t end up getting much packing done before it’s time for you to get ready for the night.  Drying off after your shower, you hear a knock on the door.  Grabbing the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door you go check it out.  Through the peephole you see Jensen standing in the hall.  Quickly, opening the door you let him in.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” you ask as he walks in.

“I thought we could ride over together.  Maybe that way I could get you to stay a little longer.” he tells you leaning in for a kiss once the door is closed.  “Maybe even have a sleepover after.”

“Oh yeah?  Is that your plan?”

“Tonight at your place, tomorrow at mine?”

“Only if you’re a good boy.”

“Sweetheart, you know I like to be bad though.”

“Yeah, yeah, I need to finish getting ready.”

“Or I could take that off of you and we don’t leave?”

“Aren’t you the one who said they better see everyone there tonight?”

“So we’ll be fashionably late.”

“Just the two of us?  Yeah, that won’t raise any eyebrows.”

Walking away you shake your head.  The two of you started dating after New Year’s Eve, but no one else on set knows about it yet.  Actually no one anywhere knew, not even Jared.  Since you both work together, the two of you didn’t want it to be a problem or distraction on set.  Especially if you ended up being better as just friends.  It was almost the end of April and things were going well.    

Once you are ready to go, both of you head downstairs to wait for the cab Jensen already called.  The bar is fairly busy by the time you arrive.  Once inside you split up, Jensen heads to the group at the bar, and you to the one in the back of the room.  Trisha and Zabrina are among that group.

The three of you make your way to the bar for a round of drinks a short time later.  

“Looks like he’s got his choice of girls for the night,” Trisha says with a laugh.

Turning to see what she does, you notice Jensen surrounded by a crowd of girls.  Some are from set, others must be bar patrons. This is the biggest downside of a secret relationship: seeing the girls all over your boyfriend when you go out and you really can’t do anything about it.

“He might have some willing participants, but when was the last time you actually saw the man leave with anyone.  Just not his style.” Zabrina states.

“True,” Trisha agrees.  Then she turns to you, “but we should make it your style tonight.  Come on Zabrina, let's find a guy for Y/N to take home.

“Does Y/N get a say in this?  Because she would much rather you didn’t,” you tell the ladies. 

They don’t listen and disappear into the crowd.  Taking a seat at the bar you order a shot. Jared comes up and takes the seat next to you watching you down the liquid.

“Hey, enjoying yourself?” he asks. 

“Of course.  How about you?”

“Definitely,” he looks over at Jensen, “although not as much as him maybe.  So what are your plans this summer?  Going to be around LA much with me and Jay?”

“I’ll be there for a week, then I’m off to Chicago for the movie.  I’ll be back after.  It’s supposed to wrap somewhere near the end of June.”

“That’s right.  Too bad you aren’t filming near LA like we both are.”

“When does Friday the 13th start?  Two weeks after we get back. Then we should wrap around the start of July.”

As the night goes on Trisha and Zabrina have sent a few guys your way, all of whom you have politely turned down.  Two hours after you arrived, you’re ready to go.  Making your way over to Jensen for the first time since you arrived, you finally get close enough to tap him on the shoulder.  Turning he looks over and excuses himself from the group around him.

“Hey, I was just letting you know I’m going to head out.  I’ll talk to you later.”

“Give me a minute and I'll be right there.”

You try to tell him he doesn't have to leave with you, but he doesn’t listen.  While he says his goodbyes you make your way outside to wait for the cab.  He walks up next to you just as your ride home pulls up.

The next day is a busy one as you both work to finish getting your own places cleaned and the things you are bringing back to the States packed up. Jensen invites you out to dinner later that evening, you don’t realize until you arrive that he called Jared also.  

After dinner the three of you share a ride home, Jared is dropped off first.  On the way to Jensen’s he asks you to stay with him.

“Are you all done cleaning and packing?”

“Pretty much, just have to double check it all.”

“Good, then stay over at my place tonight.”

“I should…”

“Please?”

“Okay, sure, fine.”

The cab drops you both off and you follow Jensen up.  His building is actually just down the street from your own.   It’s late enough the two of you just curl up in bed and watch a movie before drifting off to sleep.  Both tired from the day of cleaning and packing.

In the morning you walk back to your place to finish up and grab your things.  The three of you are on the same flight back to LA, which leaves at three.  Somehow the guys end up in the same row and you have the one in front of them.  Neither one of you wants to say anything about switching with Jared and raise any suspicions.

Everyone goes their separate ways once you land.  Your apartment is about half an hour from Jensen’s house, so it’s out of the way to share a ride.  Taking your bags inside you deposit them in the guest room since you will have to repack them over the next week. 

The next seven days keep you busy as you are preparing to leave again, going over the movie script and a pointless meeting with your agent.  Jensen’s schedule is lighter right now, so he has been over to help or keep you company as you pack, do laundry and clean up the dust around your place.  

When it comes time to leave for Chicago, he drives you to the airport and surprises you when he parks in a short-term lot instead of dropping you off.  

“What are you doing?”

“Parking.”

“Why?”

“It’s usually what you do when you get to the airport to leave for a trip.”

As he unloads your bags, he grabs one of his own.  

“Jay, are you going somewhere?”

“I thought I would come along for the weekend and help you get settled.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Leaning up you give him a kiss on the cheek as you walk toward the airport. 

The weekend went too fast and soon he was on his way back to LA. The two of you promise to talk everyday.  It’s the first time since you have started dating you will be away from each other for a long period of time. 

The first few weeks everything is going well.  You two text throughout the day, and skype every night.  But it is the last week of May when it slowly begins to change.  Jensen starts work on the movie he’s filming this summer, Ten Inch Hero. 

They are trying to finish in just six weeks so his days on set are a little longer. When filming first starts for him he calls to talk on his drive to set.  That stops after the first week.  You might get a text or two on his way in a few days a week.  

Wednesday morning of the first week without the phone calls, a text comes through, you respond asking if he can talk.  You are having a problem on set with a costar giving you trouble, and want to hear his opinion on what you should do. 

No, can’t talk now, sorry. Is all you got back.  

You have night shoots the next few days and were not able to talk to him then either.  The comments and little pushes or trips here and there, got so bad you finally spoke to the director over the weekend.  From then on you were known as the tattletale on set, and your castmates barely spoke to you out of a scene. By the time the following Friday comes along, and you leave set, you are at the end of your rope.  Talking to Jensen always calms you down, so you try to skype him, but the call is declined after the second ring. So you text instead.

Hey, I guess you’re busy.  Will you give me a call when you can talk please? 💗

You expected an answer since he must have his phone on him, but nothing comes.  Turning on a movie to distract yourself, you grab the open gallon of ice cream out of the fridge and hit the couch succumbing to tears. .  

The next morning your stiff neck is the first you notice as you start to wake up.  Looking around you realize you fell asleep on the couch. The ice cream you had is sitting on the table in front of you a melted mess. With a groan you get up taking that over to the garbage and come back with a rag to clean up the table. 

You have nowhere to be today, and you don’t plan on leaving the long-term hotel room you are staying in. After brushing your teeth and changing the pajamas for some sweats you are back on the couch.  Things aren’t going as you had hoped.  Being on the Supernatural set the last two years has spoiled you. This type of behavior isn’t tolerated there. Thinking of SPN reminds you of your boyfriend you are missing terribly. 

Picking up your phone there is a text message from him.

Just getting back to the house, I know it’s late there.  Talk to you later. Love you, Jay. 

It came in at 2am your time, yeah it was late for him to expect you to be up. You are surprised he was out till midnight.  You remember him saying Friday was just day shoots.

Scrolling through twitter nothing catches your attention until you see something Jared replied to.  It’s a post from a Victoria Thomas, you don’t know her.  She sure is pretty though, tan long blonde hair.  There is a picture of her and Jensen at a bar.  Jared had commented It’s about time he had some fun!, so you click on it to see what it’s from.

Nothing better than a little fun after work.  Grabbing a few drinks with this amazing costar and driving buddy.

You guess that explains why he was out so late, what’s she mean ‘driving buddy’?  Did they just share a ride there?  With the time difference it’s barely 7 am back in LA, so you know it’s too early to call him.  Which gives you time to calm down a little, it’s probably nothing.  Just a night out with a costar, it’s nothing you all haven’t done before.

Later that afternoon you still haven’t heard from Jensen, so you try calling him again.  He doesn’t answer, but texts you back.

Sorry Sweatheart, going over lines for Monday with other cast, call you when I leave  💗

‘I wonder if she’s there?’ you think.  Y/N stop, don't go there.  Not leaving the apartment goes out the window, or the door, in your case.  As you leave for a walk on the beach around Lake Michigan.  You end up sitting down on the sand and watching the waves crash upon the shore.  The section of beach you’ve stopped at is further out from the city and fairly quiet.  You stay for a while and enjoy it. 

Walking back to the hotel, your phone rings, it’s actually Jensen. 

“Hey Jay,” you softly greet him.

“Hi pretty girl.  How’s it going?”

“It’s been better, I miss you.  How’s the movie coming?”

“It’s been great.  We’ve got an amazing cast.  Everyone gets along so well.  My character is nuts, and so different from me.  He’s been fun to play.”

“I’m glad everything is going well.”

“Thanks.  You sound down though.  What’s going on?”

“One of my coworkers hasn’t been so great, and because I said something.  Noone likes me now.  It was miserable on set this week.”

“What happened?  Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’

You tell him how one of the veteran actors had been making inappropriate comments, and when you kept shutting him down he took to calling you names.  Trying to trip you in order to embarrass you, one day he succeeded while you were carrying your lunch to a table and you ended up wearing it. He ran into you another day, but louded blamed it on you not watching where you were going.  You had been standing still next to the makeup trailer at the time.  

“I went to the director, and he said something to him in front of the whole cast.  Told them I reported him.  So now everyone hates me,” you finish off. 

“I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried.  That’s why I asked if you could talk on the way into work one day, but you said no.  Our shooting schedules haven’t lined up to talk.  I tried to skype last night but I guess you were busy.”

“I didn’t get your call last night.  I went out with some of the cast for drinks.”

“Saw that.  Well I saw you went out with one co-star, it was on Twitter this morning. She said you were her driving buddy.”

“Oh, um, yeah.  We drive to set together. That's why I haven't been calling you.  I don’t want to talk in front of her, that would be rude.  But it wasn’t just her and I at the bar.”

“I get not calling me everyday while you’re driving, but once in a while it would be nice, even if it’s while you are getting ready or something.”

“I’m a little busy.”

“Yeah, I guess.  I’ll let you go, I’m getting in an elevator.  Bye.”

You hang up before he can reply.  You’re not back to your place yet, but that conversation took a turn that wasn’t going to help bring you out of your funk. 

The two of you don’t talk the rest of the weekend, he apparently wasn’t happy with you either.  You are dreading going back to set on Monday, and more of the same treatment from the week before.  You had been wishfully thinking he would call you Monday on his way in, but it never came. You send him a text instead in way of a truce.

I hope the rest of your weekend was good.  Have a great Monday! 💗

It was later that afternoon when you finally got a reply.

Thanks, I hope things are going better for you today.  Talk to you tonight.  Love you

Sitting on the couch watching that evening your phone rings with a call from Jensen.

“Hey honey, how was work today?”

“A lot like last week.  I just want to get this done so I can get out of here.  How was your Monday?”

“It was good.  We were mostly in the sub shop set today.  This cast is a lot of fun.”

“I’m happy for you.”

He must have picked up on something in your tone.  “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“What?”

“What you’re thinking.  There is nothing going on between me and Victoria.  I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you?  Majority of the time that I might spend with her, other cast members are around.  On set, when we grab dinner or drinks.  It’s not just her and I.”

The conversation goes on for a little longer with Jensen promising to keep in touch better.  But over the next week things don’t seem to improve.  Many of your text messages don’t receive a reply and your calls seem to go unanswered.  You’ve seen a new interview from his set with the two of them.  Both look pretty chummy as you watch.  

“So we’ve seen the pictures of the two of you out and around after filming.  What’s going on there?” the main conducting the interview asks.

“Just friends out after a long day,” Jensen replies. 

 “Yeah, good friends,” the woman sitting next to your boyfriend replies with a wink. 

You groan and close the page on your computer.  Looks like you aren’t the only one who is seeing more there. 

Getting down to the last week of your film, you are having a particular bad day.  Things on set never got better, but today seems to be going particularly awful.  When a break is finally called you quickly make your way to your trailer.  Grabbing your phone you send a skype call to Jensen hoping he has a minute.  The call is declined quickly. Sending a text, asking him to call you later if he’s free, you put your phone down.  He’s called a few times when you were unable to answer, but then he never answers when you call back.  With a sigh, you do your best to calm yourself down before having to head back.

Out in California, Jensen is going over notes with the director for the next scene while his phone is lighting up in his chair.  Looking over her shoulder, Victoria picks it up, declining the call.  Making sure Jensen is still busy she erases the call from his history.  It’s not the first time she’s done it over the last few weeks.  She waits to make sure nothing else comes through, sure enough a text comes.

Hey Jay, I guess you’re still filming.  Been a rough day, just needed to hear your voice, give me a call later. 💗

She deletes that from the phone as well and sets it back down before moving to her own chair.  Jensen has mentioned your name a few times, and she got the idea that there was something between the two of you.  And she is going to do all she can to end it. 

A few minutes later, Jensen comes back over and grabs his phone.  He checks for any notifications before sitting down.

“Got everything all figured out?”

“Yep, should be good to go.”

“Great.  We should be done early tonight, do you have any plans?”

“Yeah, I was meeting up with my friend Jared for dinner.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I’m sure it will be.”

“My plans kinda of went south.  I don’t have anything to do now.”

“That gives you a night to relax and chill now,” Jensen responds with a shrug while looking through his phone.

“My roommate is gone this week and I just hate being in my apartment alone for too long at night.”

He finally looks up,  “You could see if Liz has anything going on tonight.”

“She does.”

Jensen bites his lip while thinking.  He’s been looking forward to hanging out with Jared since they planned this a week ago.  There is something he wants to talk to him about, and he doesn’t want Victoria there when he does.   But he feels bad about leaving her alone.  Maybe she can meet up with them for drinks after dinner.  That would get her out of the apartment for a bit.

“Jared and I are going to dinner at the STK Steakhouse then probably hit a bar after.  If you wanted to meet up with us after…”

“I would love to go out with your friend after work.  I can’t wait to meet him.  I’m sure we’ll all have a great time.”

“Yeah, great.”

He sends a text to let Jared know about the added guest and then goes back through his other messages.  He pulls up your name and double checks there isn’t anything new from you.  He hasn’t had a call or text from you in a few days.  He’s tried calling a couple times, but you are either on set, or it’s too late and you’ve gone to bed.  He’s a little hurt that you haven’t been reaching out to him.  It’s got him wondering if you are still worried about him and his costar.  

That’s part of why he invited Jared out tonight.  Jensen told Jared he had something important to talk to him about.  He wants to tell his friend about the two of you, and stop hiding it from everyone else.  That doesn’t quite go as planned. 

They all get to the restaurant within a few minutes of each other and are led to a table in the back.  After ordering, Jensen asks his friend about the movie he’s working on.  When Jared finishes telling them both about it, he asks about Ten Inch Hero.  Victoria starts talking before Jensen even gets a chance. There isn’t much to add when she finally finishes talking.

“I haven’t talked to Y/N much this summer, how’s she doing?” Jared questions.

“She can’t wait to be done, it’s not going very well.  There were some issues with a co-star that really escalated,” Jensen tells him with a sigh.

“Dang, that’s really too bad.  She should at least be wrapping soon right?”

“I think there’s a week, maybe slightly more filming of left.”  

“That’s good she’ll be out of there soon  I’ll give her a call later.”

“So do the two of you know what’s in store for your next season of Supernatural?” Victoria interrupts, changing the topic away from you. 

“No not yet,” Jensen tells her.

Their food arrives and the conversation slows.  Jensen steps outside to take a call from his mom leaving the other two alone.  

Victoria leans closer to Jared speaking softly, “I’m so glad Jensen wanted us to meet, I’m sure we’ll be spending a lot of time together when he and I are dating.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that you two were…”

“Not officially, but it’s definitely going there.”

“Must be what he wanted to talk to me about tonight.  That’s great, I’m happy for you both.  Can’t wait to get to hang out with you in Vancouver.  Y/N will be around then too.  Her and Jay are pretty good friends also.”

“Oh, Can’t wait to meet her,” she tells Jared with much less enthusiasm. 

After dinner they head down the street for drinks, Jensen keeps trying to get Jared alone to talk but never gets the opportunity.  Victoria just won’t leave them alone.  Jared has his phone off to check a message, when the girl between them lets out a gasp.

“Ya know what we need?  A picture to remember this night.”  She pulls out her phone and hands it to Jared, “you have the longest arms.”

He takes a few and hands the phone back to her.   

As the night goes on  Victoria starts to get a little tippy and wraps an arm around Jensen’s waist.  He tries to sit her down, but she won’t let go.  When this continues on he’s decided he’s had enough and calls it a night. Trying to put the woman in a cab, she holds on to his hand. 

“Don’t let go, I can’t go alone.”

“You’ll be fine.  This nice gentleman is going to take you home.”

“How does he know where that is?”

“You’ll tell him.”

“But I don’t know it.”

Jensen turns to give the driver the address, but Jared cuts him off.  “Go help her Jay, it’s fine.”

“I um…”

“Jensen come with me,” she wines.

“Alright, fine.  I’ll talk to you later, man.  Maybe this weekend we can catch up again?”

“Yeah sure.  Take care Ackles.”

“You too.”

Jensen helps Victoria to her door and then returns to the cab to head home.  This night had not gone the way he had hoped at all.  Checking his phone he still doesn’t find anything from you, thinking you must have been busy on set he sends off a text.

Hey, hope this last week is starting off well.  You got this!  Talk soon, Love you ~J

Waking up the next morning you see two notifications, a missed call from Jared and a text from Jensen.  It’s too early to call Jare, so you check the text first. 

‘Really Jay, I tell you it’s been rough and you hope it’s starting off well.  You didn't even attempt to call me back.’  With a sigh you roll out of bed to start your day.  One that already seems to have started out wrong. 

During lunch that afternoon you try and return Jared’s call, hoping he isn’t tied up on set.  Just when you are getting ready to leave a voicemail you hear a breathless answer.

“Hey, hello,” he answers a little out of breath.

“Hey Jared, sorry I missed you last night.”

“Y/N!  You’re fine, I knew with the time difference I might be catching you too late.  How are you?”

“Oh, um, good.  How are you doing?  How’s the movie?”

“I’m good.  Movie is going really well.  But how about the truth from you?”

“What does that mean?”

“I was out with Ackles and his girlfriend last night.  He said the two of you have talked and you’re having trouble on set.”

You tuned out everything after he mentioned Jensen’s girlfriend.  “Um, what girlfriend?”

“His co-star in this movie, Victoria.”

“I had no idea.”

“He deserves someone good, but let’s not talk about Ackles.  What is your problem?”

“Just a jerk co-star.  This is the last week of filming, and I can’t wait to be done and out of here.”

“I’m ready to get the three of us back together in Vancouver.”

You talk for a little bit longer before you have to get back to work, your mood now considerably worse than this morning.

That night you are curled up on the couch with a tub of ice cream after seeing pictures on twitter of Jensen’s night out.  There was one shared by Victoria of the three of them, she had another with just her and Jensen.  Then TMZ had pictures of her hanging all over him in the bar.  When your phone rings and his name appears you seriously consider not answering it, but pick it up at the last minute.

“Hello.”

“Hey babe, how are you?  How is the end of filming going?”

“I’m great.  How’s your girlfriend?”

There is silence on the other end before a confused Jensen speaks up, “that’s what I was trying to find out.  What are you talking about?”

“I’m referring to the girlfriend Jared met last night.”

“What? He didn’t.  Wait, he just met Victoria.”

“Well he informed me today he met your girlfriend.”

“Y/N, I promise you, there is absolutely nothing going on between her and I.  Nothing.”

“You keep saying that, and I want to believe you, but it’s getting harder.”

“Why? Why  is it so hard to trust me?”

“Why is it so hard to return a missed call or text?”

“What missed calls and messages?  I haven’t had any.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“This is getting us nowhere over the phone.  I don’t want to fight with you, when do you get home?”

“We wrap filming Saturday,, I have to stick around a few days in case anything has to be reshot, or whatever.  Then I fly out Thursday afternoon.” 

“I’ll recheck my shooting schedule for next Friday, I don’t think I’m supposed to film late.  How about you come over to my place, I’ll make dinner and we can talk?  Please?”

“Sure, alright.”

“Thank you.  Now will you tell me how things are going?”

“Pretty much the same as it has been.  It’s the last week, I’m fairly certain no one cares how they treat me now.  I just want to wrap and be done with everyone.”

“I’m really sorry it’s been so bad for you there, and that I can’t even be there for you at the end of the day since we are working in different states.”

“That’s been the worst part.”

“I’m going to let you go get some sleep.  I’ll talk to you soon.  Hang in there.  I really do love you.”

“I love you, too.  Thanks, I’ll do my best.  See you next weekend.”

Hanging up from Jensen, you feel slightly better about things, but you still have some doubts floating in the back of your mind.  You’ve looked the woman up, she’s pretty, talented, there isn’t any reason for Jensen not to be interested in someone like her.  Maybe she’s even a better fit for him then you are.  Getting up and heading to the bedroom you mind is anything but quiet.

Out in California, Jensen ends your conversation to make another. He waits a few rings for his friend to answer, but it ends up going to voicemail.

“Hey Jare, give me a call when you get a chance.  Thanks.”

He and Jared end up playing phone tag because of their shooting schedules for a few days, and make plans to meet up again on Saturday.  When Jensen walks into the bar Jared is already sitting at a corner table.

“Hey Ackles, what’s up?  Miss me already?”

“You’re hilarious Padalecki, how could I not.”

“I know right.  What’s up?  What was so important you were calling every day and needed to meet back up.  Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with my tv brother.”

“I talked to Y/N, she mentioned she spoke to you.”

“Yeah, we talked Monday or Tuesday, I think..”

“Did you say something to her about meeting my girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I told her about having dinner with you and Victoria.  How is she doing by the way?  She seems really great.”

“She’s fine.  Did you tell Y/N Victoria was my girlfriend.”

Jared pauses for a moment, “Yeah, sorry.  I should have let you tell her, it just came out. I didn’t think.”

“Why would you tell Y/N she was my girlfriend?”

“I’m sorry, I will let you tell everyone else the news.  It was a little slip.”

“SHE is not my girlfriend.”

“Still haven’t made it official, she said you were going in that direction.”

It’s Jensen’s turn to pause the conversation.  “Who said it was going official?”

“Victoria, when she said you two were dating.  I figured that was what you wanted to talk to me about when we had dinner.”

“I’m not dating Victoria.  I’m dating Y/N, and I have been since New Year’s.  That’s what I wanted to tell you.  We kept it on the downlow the last few months of filming and until now.  I don’t want to hide it anymore.  She doesn’t deserve to be hidden away like that.  I wanted to tell you first, before we go back up to Vancouver.”

The younger man stares at his friend, recalling the phone conversation with you earlier in the week.  “That’s why she seemed a little surprised and upset when I mentioned Victoria as your girlfriend. Dude, I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.”

“I’ve already talked to Y/N about it, she’ll be back next week.  I’m hoping I can calm down any other fears she has then.”

The two of you, huh.  That’s awesome, I’m really happy for you both.  A little upset, you both kept it from me.”

“Thanks, and sorry.  We didn’t want things to be awkward if we realized after a few weeks we were better as friends, and then it just became, how do we share this?”

The men talk and enjoy the rest of their evening before parting.  

You were so happy to hear the director call cut the final time Saturday night.  You thought this movie was never going to end. Jensen had sent a text this morning wishing you a happy last day of filming.  You were thrilled not to see any more pictures of him and co-star out together this week.  

Luck was on your side and you weren’t called back to set to refilm anything, there would be some audio work that might need to be done later, but that could be done in LA or Vancouver.  You ship a few of your things back to LA on Monday, the rest are packed up and ready to fly home with you Thursday. 

Your time in Chicago could not end on a high note though.  The 5:30 flight back home, which should have had you in LA before 8, was now moved back to depart at 8:45.  That pushes the arrival time back past 11. Jensen had offered earlier in the week to pick you up at the airport, but you didn’t want him doing that now.  He still has to film in the morning.   When you text him to let him know, he tells you it still isn’t a problem, but you aren’t sure if there will be other delays.  Telling him not to worry, you wander through the airport to pass the time. 

It’s well after midnight by the time you make it home, glad you didn’t have Jensen out driving you this late.  Your luggage is left in the corner of your room and you collapse on your bed falling asleep without even changing.  

The next morning you go through the apartment dusting and cleaning up.  Your luggage is unpacked, and a trip to the grocery store is definitely needed.  The day passes quickly and soon you need to get yourself ready for dinner at Jensen’s. 

You arrive by 6, and he has one big smile on his face when he opens the front door.  The two of you enjoy a nice steak dinner he had ready when you arrive. While you are finishing up, he sets a frozen pie in the oven.  As you are helping him clean up the main course there’s a knock on his door.  While you finish washing the dishes, he goes to answer it. 

“Hey, I’ve been texting but you haven’t answered me.  Did you want to go grab some drinks downtown?”

“Hi Victoria, I didn’t see your messages.  I’ve been busy, I have company over.”

“Well, we can stay here then.”  Jensen grits his teeth as she walks past him uninvited inside the house.  He’s tried to stay as far away from Victoria as he could this past week after Jared told him what she said. 

“I don’t think we’re up for company tonight.”

“That’s silly.  You already said you have company over.  What’s the harm in a little more?”

Before anything else is said, you walk into the hallway from the kitchen.  Jensen looks over and his face falls when he sees you focus on Victoria.  This is not how he wanted this evening to go at all. 

She smiles sweetly and makes her way over to stand in front of you.  “Hi, I’m Victoria.  Jensen and I are working on a film together right now.”  She holds out her hand, which you force yourself to shake. “Who are you?”

“Y/N.  I work with Jay on Supernatural.”

“She is also my…” Jensen starts to explain your relationship but is cut off

“Oh, how sweet.  Did you finally decide to come visit your co-star during hiatus”

“No, I just got back to LA, I finally finished filming in Chicago.”

“Why are we all standing here, we should take this little party to the living room.”  Grabbing Jensen’s hand she starts to pull him with her. 

 Seems like she is familiar with his place, you think.

He turns to you with a stunned expression on his face.  “I didn’t invite her,” he mouths. 

She stops in front of the couch taking a seat and pulling the still bewildered Jensen down with her.  That leaves you with the chair across from them.

“So, tell me about yourself.  I would love to get to know another friend of Jensen.  What movie were you working on?”  She starts firing off questions.

You’re unaware that Jensen is done hiding your relationship and you do your best to answer civilly, and as his friend, not an unhappy girlfriend.. 

The oven timer dings, signaling the pie Jensen set in there to bake is finished.  You start to get up to grab it out, but Victoria grabs your arm.

“You’re his guest, let Jensen grab that.”  When he’s out of sight she turns to you, with a fake smile you can see right through. “So do you have any insider tips on him?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Between you and me, I'm pretty sure he's working up the nerve to ask me to be his girlfriend. The two of us are constantly hanging out together.  Look at the man.  Who wouldn't want a piece of that? I wasn't sure if you knew anything about his exes, why it never worked with them, or things he likes.”

“Just you two hang out? Or the whole the whole cast?”  Because that was what Jensen was constantly telling you. 

“Maybe once or twice with everyone. Mostly just the two of us.  He prefers our time together, to be well, alone, if you know what I mean.  So are you going to help me?”

Just then Jensen comes back into the room, you are fuming inside.  He hadn’t been telling you the truth, just what you were afraid of.  He sits back down on the couch and she grabs his arm leaning in close to his side, while looking over at you.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“No.”

“The Roger Room just opened, and I was able to get Jay and I on the list for tonight.  We’ve been talking about this for weeks.  Since the two of you don’t have plans, you wouldn't mind if I steal him away for the evening would you?”

“No, I’m not interested in…” Jensen starts to speak up.

 You stand up from the chair, “you know what, take him. I'm leaving anyway.”

“No, Y/N, don’t leave.” Jensen starts to plead as he gets up.

Grabbing your purse from the table you quickly exit the house ignoring him.  The front door is barely shut behind you, before he opens it and follows you outside. 

“Y/N, I didn’t invite her over, I don’t want to go out with her.  I want to stay here and talk this over with you.  Please don’t leave.”

“Do you know what she just told me in there?  That you two spend a lot of time together alone, because you prefer your alone time with her. If I know what she means.  And guess what Jensen I do.”

“Y/N, come on, please calm down.”

“Do not tell me to calm down Ackles!”

“The truth is…”

“You know who starts a sentence with ‘truth is’? Liars, that’s who.  You know it’s getting clearer and clearer, where I really rank with you, Ackles.  I don’t think this is working out anymore.”

“What, no you don’t mean that.  We were going to talk about everything tonight.   I’m not lying to you about anything.  Come on, we can fix this.”

“Now you’re going to a bar instead.  The time to talk would have been the last few weeks when you were ignoring my text messages, calls and skypes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he yells out in frustration.  “I didn’t ignore anything from you.  You were barely reaching out to me.”

“Yeah, sure blame me, when you’re the one with a replacement girlfriend in their living room.”

“She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Yeah, right.  I’m done.  At least we never told anyone about us, nothing we have to explain there.  Just like you wanted it to be,” you say just before closing the car door.   

“I just told Jared,” Jensen whispers as he watches your car pull out of his driveway and take off. 

Going back inside he catches Victoria hurrying to sit back down.  “Is your friend gone?  A few drinks will cheer you up, change and we’ll get going.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I haven't been talking to you about going out at all.   My friend didn’t just leave, my girlfriend did.  Rather upset because of you.  I’m not interested in you like that Victoria, I’m sorry if I did something to lead you on, but I’m not.  I think you need to leave now.”

“But I, well, I…”

“Now.”

“Jensen don’t be ridiculous,” she finally gets out.

“Oh, I’m not.  It’s time for you to go.”  He walks to the front door and holds it open

She grabs her coat and purse with a huff walking out the open door.  The night did not end like she was hoping.

In the house, Jensen tries calling you, but it just goes directly to voicemail.  He asks Jared to reach out to you, but you don’t answer him either.  He contemplates driving over to your house, but he figures you probably need a little space right now.  He’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

That conversation doesn’t happen.  You have been refusing his calls all weekend, when he goes by your apartment, you won’t answer the door.  He even asked your landlord to let him in, but he won’t. It’s the middle of the following week before you text Jared back that yes you are alive, but you just need time and space.  You will talk to him soon.  No, you don’t want to get together for the 4th of July with him and some friends.  No you don’t want to talk right now.   Jensen, on the other hand, doesn't get any kind of response.  

Before you know it, it’s the second week of July and it’s time to head back to Vancouver. You find out from the studio when the guys are scheduled to fly and change your ticket to the day before.  You arrive in Vancouver by yourself and get a cab to take you and your luggage back to your apartment.

The next day, the guys are in LAX waiting for the plane to board, while Jensen keeps looking around.  He’s waiting for you to arrive at the terminal.  The three of you always fly up together.  Jensen was hoping, if he had you stuck on an airplane with him, you would finally listen to him.  Maybe then things between the two of you could be fixed.  No such luck. 

After dropping off his luggage, he walks down to your apartment, but the doorman tells him you are unavailable.  Jensen has a sneaking suspicion you took him off the visitors lists. He ends up showing up at Jared’s apartment with a case of beer, where he has to crash on the couch because he’s too wasted to leave. 

Jared has had enough of this and pays his own visit to your place.  He is still cleared to go up at least. Once you let him in, he follows you back over to the couch where you have Hallmark Christmas in July on.  

“We missed you yesterday on the flight.”

“I think that was just you who missed me.  I missed you when I flew up too.”

“That’s not true.”

“Jare, you don’t know what’s…”

“I know plenty.”

When you turn to look at him, he stares right back.  “Okay, what do you know?” you challenge.

“I know you and Ackles are dating.”

“Were.  He has Victoria now.  You said so yourself.”

“I was wrong and so are you.  The two of you just had a fight.”

“When did he tell you?”

“About your fight?  Right after it happened and you wouldn’t answer him.  He needed to know you were okay.  Not that I helped much since it took you almost a week to answer me.”

“Is that when he told you we had been dating?”

“No, it was the week before.  He didn’t want to hide your relationship anymore.  He wanted to let me know what was going on.  The night Victoria told me they were dating, he didn’t really invite her along.  She ended up inviting herself along to dinner, and you know Ackles.  He’s too nice to just turn someone away.  He had no idea she was going to tell me that, or that she even had until after he heard from you.    Jensen wanted to tell me about the two of you and wasn’t able to with her interference.  So he was going to wait and talk to me another night, but she made a comment about the two of them going out, and I jumped to the conclusion that’s what he wanted to tell me.  I was wrong.”

“The night I was at his place, she said they had been spending a lot of time together, just the two of them.  It was mostly alone time.  He told me it was mostly with more of the cast.  She said he was going to be asking her to be his girlfriend soon.  Why would she lie about that?  Not to mention all the times I reached out and he ignored me.  Then he acts like it never happened.”

“Jensen’s been thinking about why she did that.  He said he talked about you on set and thinks she figured out who you were to him, so she was trying to push you out of the way that night.  What do you mean he was ignoring you?”

Grabbing your phone, you pull up your message thread with Jensen and all show Jared all the unread, and unreplied to messages.  “Then there were calls or skypes he would just decline and forget about.”

“I don’t know about any of that.  But I do know that what is happening between you two right now, is driving him crazy.  He’s hurting, you're hurting.  Will you please talk to him so you can both stop hurting?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“Would you rather continue on with this pity party you have?”

“That’s mean.”

“It’s true.”

You two stare at each other, neither wants to give in. 

“Fine, I’ll talk to him.”

“Great, I’ll call him right now.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t agree to right now.  I’m not ready.”

“You didn’t not agree to it.”

You look down at the baggy worn out sweats you’re wearing and remember you haven’t showered since yesterday morning.  Making your way to the bathroom you quickly clean yourself up.  Jared takes your key and goes downstairs to meet Jensen and bring him up.  Once they are both inside, he puts the key back and makes his exit.

“Jared you don’t have to leave,” you try to keep him close for a buffer.

“I think I do.  This is between the two of you.”

“Hey,” Jensen greets you softly once his friend has left.

“Hey.” you respond looking him over.  He looks as tired as you feel.  You can see the dark tints underneath his eyes and the tired sadness in them. 

“I’ve missed you, especially yesterday.”

“I wasn’t ready to be in a confirmed space with you for that long yet.”

“You are today?”

“Jared didn’t give me a choice.”

“Why did you just leave like that?  I wasn't going to go out with her that night.  I wanted to clear things up with you.  So that we didn’t end up here.” 

“She told me you were getting ready to ask her out.  That the two of you hang out alone a lot.”  

“That’s not true.  The car rides were the only time we hung out alone.  That was just driving to work, going over lines on the way.  I wasn’t interested in her then or now, I’m only interested in you.  I was not looking to ask her out.”

“It seems like once you started filming she overtook your time and worries.  You couldn’t even talk to me because you couldn’t upset her by being on the phone.”

“Okay, that was not the best choice I made.  In how I said that or what I did.  I’m sorry.”

“If things were to work between us, we need better communication.  It really hurts when you just ignore me.  Especially when I was having such a rough time in Chicago.  I would send you a text and tell you something was wrong, and if I got a reply at all it’s about how great things were in LA.  I’m glad things were so good for you.  I really am.  It just hurt to have it rubbed in my face.”

“What are you talking about?   You’ve mentioned that before, I didn’t ignore your messages.  I never meant to rub anything in your face.  I expected to hear from you more after you said you were having trouble, not less.”

You hand your phone over and he scrolls through the text thread, then grabs his own phone.  “I don’t remember seeing most of these, and they aren’t on my phone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think they ever sent.”

You look through his tread and sure enough many of your texts aren’t there. “I would see a “read” notification on my end for some of them.  What about all the times I tried to call or skype, and you send me to voicemail and never call back?”

“I sent you to voicemail once or twice and I would always text you right back.  You’re the one who started calling less and less.”

“No, it was more than that.  You were just answering less, I wasn’t not calling you.”  You pull up the call log and show him. 

Once again things don’t match up with the two phones. 

“I don’t understand how so many of your messages didn’t make it though?”

“It’s almost like someone cleared them out,” you mutter.

“I don’t think anyone…” Jensen stops and thinks back. He looks at you with a wince, “okay, maybe.  There were a few times I thought I saw Victoria with my phone.  I always left in my chair when I was on set.  I couldn’t see where she had done anything so I didn’t question her.”

“Maybe you should have.”

“Maybe.  I’m sorry for the trouble she caused. I’m sorry for not being in Chicago when you needed backup.  I’m sorry that she made you so upset.  Can you please forgive me?  I really don’t want to lose you.  I love you Y/N Y/L/N, there is no one else I want to be with.”

You look at him for a long moment without saying or doing anything.  His hopeful expression slowly starts to fade before you start speaking. 

“I can’t really hold you responsible for what she did, especially if you didn’t know.  I’m sorry for not hearing your out. I wish you could have been in Chicago, but you had your own work going on.  I know it will be like that at times.  I understand.  I’m also sorry I called you a liar.  I love you too Jensen Ackles.  I hated the fighting and the being apart.  I want to be with you and just you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With a small smirk Jensen softly grabs your face in his hands and leans in kissing you softly.  It doesn’t stay that way for long, being apart for so many weeks things tend to get heated pretty quickly.  He begins walking you back toward the bedroom, barely letting you come up for air.  

When the two of you are spent and laying wrapped in each other’s arms he leans down and kisses the top of your head.

“I don’t like being apart,” he tells you.

“I didn’t either.”

“Let’s change that.”

“I thought we just did.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you moving in with me.  Then we don’t have to go back and forth between apartments, and I get to hold you every night.”

“Why don’t you move in with me then?”

He laughs, “I don’t care who’s apartment we end up keeping here as long as it’s got both of us there.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“The next time we have an issue because of some co-star, will you talk to me about it first before running off?” he asks.

“I would rather we just avoided the drama next time.”

“If we aren’t a secret, maybe that won’t be a problem.”

“You already told Jared, why not make it official?”

“Working on that.  What size ring do you wear?”

Thank you for reading!

Tags

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[borgevino]

so, since last june i've been having about as stressful a time as it's possible to have in an office job. luckily this era is over (i'm still in the same job but now working 10h/wk) and i'm starting to recover.

it's hard to identify burnout / extreme stress while you're going through it (although maybe i'm speaking for myself here). here are some things i've noticed.

major stress symptom i've observed in myself and others: the narrowing of appetite until you're essentially only eating 3 or 4 "safe" things while everything else, even if you have enjoyed it in the past, sounds nauseating. for months, i could only eat taco bell and pizza. this has dramatically improved since i reduced my hours

various life skills i've developed simply vanished. i could not put together a grocery list at all -- i couldn't think ahead to what i would do with ingredients i bought. i also could not handle cooking -- I could barely make rice in the rice cooker. it was like i'd forgotten how. (this is back i'm happy to say! i did have to go "well let me shop like i'm 23 again" to get it but i made two home cooked meals this week)

i also lost a lot of coping mechanisms. all of my bad old protestant thought patterns came back with a vengeance. for example, i was taught growing up that complaining was A Sin -- i've unlearned this but found myself putting "cw complaining" on various tweets (this also is better now)

it became much harder to connect with my friends or my partner. luckily my wife (he/him) and i have done a bunch of work on communication already, but it became harder for me to spend time with him, simply because so much of my energy was spent on work (also improving!)

while i was in the high stress state i tried various remedies:

being comfortable physically and grounded somatically was essential. taking baths with lavender in them, petting the cats (and being sat on by them), taking deep breaths: small things, but incredibly helpful.

weed seriously helped. it affects everyone differently: for me it quiets all the anxiety alarm bells and gives me a 30,000 foot view of the situation. putting things in perspective was often humbling and reassuring at the same time. (i did not try alcohol because of the hangover factor)

there were a couple times when i took a week or two off to try and get some rest. these actually did NOT help; mostly they made things worse. i'd relax a little and then five things would go wrong in my body at once (presumably because i wasn't producing as much cortisol)

notes on recovering:

i'm taking a college class and that little bit of structure on my week is very helpful. also it gets me out of the house -- i've been WFH since the start of the pandemic, and i've gotten out of the habit. days i leave the apartment and do something besides just go for a walk or shop tend to be good ones

i've been sleeping a ton -- 12-14 hours a day, long naps. i'm lucky i can just let it happen -- i'm letting my body's instincts take the lead. if we need to sleep until 1pm occasionally, sure.

in the same vein, i'm not pushing myself. could i have made cornbread or corn waffles with tonight's chili? sure! a year ago i would have. but that sounded tiring, so i didn't. etc etc. i haven't started on the monumental task of getting the apartment to its pre-stress uncluttered state yet, because that would be too big a push for right now. "i will be compassionate with myself" is something i've been telling myself over & over.

it's surprising and encouraging how much things have changed for the better in the course of the past three weeks.

[micallum]

normal day in the assy house in 20 years https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJHhDLCH/

Okay, I have calmed down and I come bearing gifts (cursed gifts but gifts nonetheless):

I will not go 20 years into the future but I think a little less is enough, so picture this with me (sorry for the short fanfic - something came over me):

You are making dinner in your cute modest home somewhere in Monaco, life has been good; you married your long-time boyfriend Arthur almost 7 years ago, had a dog, and provided shelter to all neighborhood cats. You have managed to have 2 kids during the past 5 years, with a third (and hopefully last) one on the way you believed the family was clearly complete.

You hear a lot of noises coming from the living room, as you do most days when Arthur is home. He is a good dad, in fact, it surprised you that he is so present even when he spends so much time away for races. The man makes a conscious effort to be reliable, which you thank him for since the Leclerc gene is an inescapable truth and your two boys have it.

What is the Leclerc gene? WELL, the Leclerc boys are full of energy, very focused, and very independent. If only they wouldn't try to do things on their own the entire time. You have been called to school more than once. The first time, little Oli had made a mess with a tube of white paint because he wanted to cover some crayon artwork his friend made on the wall... A more recent event was when your youngest started a food fight during naptime - somehow.

So you are used to the mess and the noise. It still worries you how the 5 and 2-year-old boys are going to deal with their newborn brother.

You rub your belly at the idea, at least Oli has the experience of when Marc was born, but Marc? Baby Macky? No, he is going to lose his mind in June.

With the table set you call out for the boys, hoping Arthur will help. A couple of minutes go by and nobody walks into the dining room. You poke your head out the hallway and call for Arthur this time.

"Tutuuuuur!" You tip-toe in your yoga socks.

Oh, and there they are. Every boy is on a different piece of furniture. Arthur balances his weight between the coffee table and the armrest of the loveseat as he giggles. Oli hugs a pillar with his arms and legs as he screams "Papa, je tombe!" Macky simply yells and covers his face with his hands as he waits for Arthur on the other end of the loveseat.

"What are we doing?" You ask the three of them in French, and everyone stares back. "It's dinnertime, come on!"

"How is she doing it?" Oli asks, climbing the pillar with the agility of a monkey.

"Mama?"

"I told you!" Arthur turns his body and points a finger at you, "I married a witch!"

Macky gasps but reaches out to you, bright innocent eyes staring back. You roll your eyes but your feet move automatically toward your child, walking right past your husband. You grab the youngest boy and hold him on your hip, he rests his arm on your shoulder and plays with a strand of your hair in his other hand.

"Mama, are you a good witch?" He mumbles.

He is almost a copy of his father and his timid smile makes anyone's heart melt. His kindergarten teachers are proof of it, and you are not immune either.

"Am I a good witch?" You put a finger on your chin for a moment and watch Arthur get off the furniture and go pick up Oli, "Most days I am."

"I think that makes Daddy a wizard!" Oli chimes in.

Arthur laughs and blinks repeatedly. "I don't know about that..."

"Okay, you two..." Your eyes narrow at Arthur, "-you three need to go wash your hands."

"Can't you use magic to clean them?"

Arthur smiles at Oli and gives him a high five, though upon seeing your face, he puts him down and comes to grab Macky.

"We'll be right back," he whispers, taking a second to give you a quick peck on the cheek.

"Of course you will, food's getting cold and we're starving!"

You have picked up the habit of speaking about yourself in plural, a hand on your belly almost at all times now that the baby bump is bigger. Arthur always smiles and makes a little noise at the sight, tonight is no exception. He gives you a wink and runs off to the bathroom with a boy on each arm.

"Come on boys! Your brother's hungry!" You hear Arthur tell the kids.

"What brother?" Macky asks.

You turn on your heal, knowing that your husband's got it and will not say anything inappropriate to your children.

"I told you, Mama's a witch! She is making a baby in her belly!"

"WHAT?" Macky yells, "BUT I AM A BABY?!"

"ANOTHER ONE?!" Oli sounds less than thrilled, "We have this one!"

Arthur's laughter is loud across the house as he tries to calm the boys down.

"I promise you guys; this is the last one!" Arthur says, but you know he might not mean it.

The only reason you are pregnant again is that he convinced you to try for a baby girl, and you are sure he will try to talk you into it again in a couple of years... if you will give in is still uncertain, but you know there are few things you will deny him.

[steddieyes]

Chapter Two of my Bryce fic: Another Chance To Fuck Up

(@Arlooh on ao3)

June 17th, i've worked so fucking hard to get back into this grey ass state and not even her bitche of a mom will let me talk. It's, not, FAIR. I only know that shes graduating because unique fucking monique and her excuse of a boyfriend have been yelling at each other outside the milkshake mania. I'm trying to sit at the fucking bus stop, not see a whore yell about how she gave her heart to him. Fuck that.

- 

Looking into the mirror of the thrift store changing room, he scans himself up and down, looking for any signs of "hey, I'm fucking poor, mind kicking my ass back to the penitentiary please?" as he forces himself to stand still and stop bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 He's fucking nervous. 

Wiping his hands down his jeans, giving himself a stern and harsh "whispered" talking to (he's been yelling into the mirror for 10 minutes, some employee as been asking him to leave for the better part of that, he won't) and fixing what makeup he has on, he turns and leaves the changing room. Giving a polite "Screw off, asshole!" and middle finger to the worker and swifly walking out without paying for a thing, only after sliding a sick pair of sunglasses off some dude waiting in line. 

-

But all that worry leads him to now, jumping a fence into the graduation event at 'Whatever the fuck' high school, so what if the entery was free, this is cool. 

The first thing he sees is probably the last person he wants to see, Tacky Tammy in the fucking flesh. And god, she looks worse than the last he seen her. That fucking bitch. 

Quickly avoiding that mess, he runs off to the right where he can hear people chatting, yelling, the typical American slang, and to behind the bleachers where he can finally fucking breath. He's only been up a few hours and yet it feels like hes been up for days, all the while having the energy to fight the thing people call god. "Where ever that old bastard is, he sure had a shit plan for me" he hisses as he lights up the last cigarette he's got, stole it from some homeless guy lastnight and yet it doesn’t make him feel any better about it. 

But blasting speakers, which are WAY to fucking loud mind you, go off right by my fucking ear "Five minutes till showtime everyone! I hope you've got your disposables ready! And no /flash/ please, thank you" God. Fucker sound like an asshole to be around, fucks he got to be so stern for. And why the fuck would someone flash the crowd at a high school. This isn't the big bang, we don't need to see that you bleached your ass, Marissa. But shit, 5 minites till showtime. And I was calling it that before grandpa over he did anyways..

He can barely see through the crowd of green gowns and capes to even see the stage from here, it takes him all of 5 minutes to climb out of the prison that is bleachers pressed to a wire fence. Good thing he's scrawny of else he wouldn’t have been able to get out in time to see the show that is Bryce Tankthrust. Fuck. To think that he ever hated her for what happened. All the hate he'd ever bared for Bryce washes away in a second at seeing her up on that stage, when did she straighten her hair? Whatever.

She looks fucking /good/, greens definitely my favorite coulor. Fuck, she can take green if it means he can see her like she is now. Even in a graduation gown. 

And for the first time in a long time, he smiles. Bobby smiles because fuck is he happy. He didn’t /mean/ to look like a smug bastard, even if he is. He's just happy. But nothing ever goes right for him does it. Bryce looked at him, right in the eye, could you belive that? But he just smiled back, but not when her prideful smile turned down and into shock. He hasn't seen that face since.. since he threw up all over her heart, the one that she took out for him to profess her love. Fuck. Shit, SHIT. 

He hasn't ran that fast in, ever. The second he seen Bryce drop, clutching where her heart is (right?) fuck, did he really do that much damage? He didn’t think it was /that/ bad, he just wanted to surprise Bryce after escaping and... he just ran through that crowd. Over the people who were starting to pile up on the stage, he didn’t give a /fuck/ if he got sent back now or to some place worse for doing what he did and all but growling for security to get off her, Bryce was fucking hurt and it was all his fault.

[monmuses]

NEW YEARS REVIEW

     Man... where do I even start with this? Buckle up, this is going to be a long ride to review. I’ve gone through some shit and I am going to be tagging people that I’ve met, but please beware of the following topics I mention:

Depression, Mentions of Suicide, Mental Health, Self-Deprication, Anxiety, and Mentions of Mental Illness

     Alright, now let’s get into this:

     I, so far, have experienced a friendship fallout where I almost lost my best friend, a marriage dispute where I was stuck in the center trying to resolve both sides, being the “mommy” to an emotionally desperate 25-year-old who I only friended for a friendship but was used for his emotional baggage, and witnessing my own friends suffer from callout posts that they DID NOT DESERVE. I’ve had to help myself with my own depression and figure out how to keep going without giving up, but here’s my overall review of the year.

     Around last year’s Christmas, I begun college. I moved across state to Idaho to a college town and being five minutes away walking distance. I packed up all of my things, stored the rest, and ended up there with some roommates. It was actually a pretty nice start! I had high hopes because I finally got to experience independence and I was able to get away from my mom! I was excited and I got to be able to manage things on my own. I loved the snow, I loved the cold, and it was right in the middle of winter. I was so excited and was ready to start!

     Two weeks into my new start, I ended up experiencing THE worst friend drop. A friend who I THOUGHT was close to me and loved to talk Jekyll & Hyde about dropped me. They are notorious for disappearing for two weeks to a MONTH without warning and ghosting me until they felt well enough to say hi. We had so many good talks, I stuck with them and even threw out writing ideas for them when they were stuck. I helped with some character designs and blogs, but in the end? I was the selfish person. In their eyes, I was using them and was only their for artistic talent when I was there to be friends. I shared everything with them but they NEVER told me what was wrong.

     I left on my own terms after one of my other friends was ditched by them without warning and I ended up getting the broken bottle of bitterness straight to the face. I was called a number of names, being told that “they knew I wouldn’t ever be capable of change and that I will always be stubborn”. Needless to say, I suffered. That was the start to my depression.

     @vampyrnacht​ is someone who I consider a really good friend of mine. He was one of the other people that suffered from this in January and it was a situation that started speculation around the end of October. We’ve been constantly talking together and sharing ideas, but he’s just great. I love Milan to death and he’s just really fucking cool.

     Over the course of January all the way to June/July, I experienced moments of major insomnia and self-deprication. I hated how I felt about myself and thought of me as a sponge for people’s emotions. That’s all I was to people and I kept sucking it up wherever I went. I left an awful friend group after a month of joining because the owner was an emotionally-draining piece of shit that needed a mother for a girlfriend to take care of him. He confessed his crush to me a FEW DAYS into knowing him and I felt trapped. I was exhausted and it was in the worst month of the year for me, which was February. It took me the entire month to finally figure out that I did not deserve to deal with this shit. I left and ended up hearing about the worst tantrum he ever experienced from two separate people. Needless to say, I was pretty satisfied with being able to put my foot down.

     However, with all of these situations that have happened, I still suffered from moments of anxiety where I could not eat. I didn’t want to leave my apartment and I didn’t go to half of my classes. It got to a point where I suffered from MAJOR insomnia and didn’t want to sleep because of how shitty I felt about myself. I hated me as a person and I still hate how I am. There’s things about me I hate and I psychoanalyze myself in so many ways to where I find little reason to think I am deserving of anything. I like keeping quiet about most things

     May rolls around and I met @shermphibia when I first started adding canon muses (and was after the start to my second semester of college). Through him, I got to meet a number of LOVELY people. I have to thank Fink for letting me meet so many new folks. If it wasn’t for him? I probably wouldn’t have met so many people and I wouldn’t have the attention my blog has today. Xenophanes wouldn’t be my best muse, and I wouldn’t have made so many friends.

     June hits around, and in some way, I somehow fell in between a major fight. The one in question who started all of it is long gone, but I am still friends with the other person who I think is a very sweet person. Special mention to @th0rneprincess​ for being such a trooper and a genuine sweet person to talk to. I love Zi to death and I hope I get to write with you soon!! And another mention during this is @flyatahighergame​.

     Loke is one of the BEST people I have ever met. I see them as an honest-to-god older sister and she is really, really awesome. One of the toughest and most honest friends too. I love them to death and they are some of the wisest people too. I trust her with my life. She helped me through some of the tightest spots I’ve been in this year and gave me some pretty damn good advice. They singlehandedly helped me with this situation and was the only other sweet voice I could rely on for help.

     Around the end of July, I made it home. Shit happened to where I was punished for a number of things I did due to how poor my mental health was and I managed to get into therapy around September. However, since being home, my mom has been responsible for why I am who I am. Through the Besties Against The Throne server, I also met one of my other closest friends: @resiliency-in-starlight​.

     Usa is THE reason why I got further into South Park and ACTUALLY started writing South Park muses. Years ago, I actually got into the show when I was 14-15 years old (daring and awful, but I only watched clips). She is also why I write Damien and Pip now. I previously added some other muses, but I genuinely love talking to her. I got to know her more over time and she is someone I really consider a close friend that I’ve made this year. I love her to death too.

     Here I am now: It’s after Christmas and I’m typing this, trying to include everybody I can remember before finishing it up. I have gotten better at my writing, I now have a job, and I have hobbies that I continue doing to this day. I’m hoping to go back to college again ONCE I am in a better headspace mentally and can manage things on my own. I’m looking forward to a better year and one that I can survive a little better compared to last year’s.

     Some special mentions to @boriiqua​ @pvachypessa​ @purple-paw-muses​ @smileduponyou​ @bambino-muses​ @pompedia​ @dragcns-den​ @serpentine-rogue​ @aseriouscomedian​ for new friends I’ve made this year (and a few other old friends that made a comeback too) and to everyone else I got to know that I can’t tag right now! I have met a lot of special people this year that have singlehandedly got me to be better than I was before. Thank you to all of you that I got to become moots with this year too. Here’s to a better 2023!

[heavenlyhoundoom]

Knd x AWISC au part 14.(warning: gruesome description of cutting off antlers.)

(The twelve of them gather around and enjoy the root vegetable stew.)

Hank: Thank you three for helping Carter prepare dinner.

Linda: All Benedict and I did was harvest some vegetables.

Benedict: Yeah, Carter and Monty are the ones who actually prepared dinner.

Hank: Nonsense, any amount of help is good. Besides, you help everyone else around the house.

Benedict: It's nothing.

Linda: We didn't really do much.

Annabelle: Well we think you two did a lot, so don't give yourselves so much critic.

Linda: Alright.

Benedict: Okay, Mrs.McSqueak.

(Everyone finishes their stew and puts their dishes in the kitchen sink. Carter, Monty, Linda, and Benedict go upstairs to Carter's room at the end of the hallway.)

Carter: So what do you guys want to do before we fall asleep? I have movies, books, video games, and board games.

Linda: I don't know...

(Linda noticed a framed photo on Carter's nightstand.)

Linda: What's that a picture of?

Carter: Oh, that's a picture of the four of us during your eleventh birthday.

(The four looked at the picture and started reminiscing about that day.)

(June thirteenth, six years ago)

Iris(Linda's mom): Are you ready for your birthday party at Carter's place, Jacob.

Jacob: I sure am, I can't wait to see Carter, Monty, and Benedict..(Jacob turns away and starts blushing)

Rowen(Linda's dad): You okay, son?

Jacob: I'm fine, I just got lost in my thoughts.

(They arrive at Carter's house where he, Monty, and Benedict were waiting for him.)

Carter, Monty, and Benedict: (excited) Jacob!!!

Jacob: (excited) Guys!!!

(The four hug as Annabelle, Hank, and Mariana walk up to Iris and Rowen.)

Annabelle and Mariana:(excited) Iris, how's our bestie?

Iris: I'm doing great.

(The three of them hug.)

Hank: Rowen. How's my brother from another mother?

Rowen: I'm doing just fine.

(They high-fived and patted eachother on the back.)

Hank: How's the birthday boy?

Jacob: I'm doing great!

Hank: That so good to hear, now are you ready to have a fantastic birthday!?

Jacob: I was born ready!

(They played limbo, pin the tail on the dolphin, musical chairs and truth or dare. When it was time for cake and presents, Hank got Jacob a camo bandana, Annabelle got Jacob a blue t-shirt that said "Boys will be Boys", Carter got Jacob a model monster truck, Monty got him a slingshot, Benedict got Jacob a blue journal to write down his thoughts, his mom got him a remote controlled helicopter, and his dad got him a blue skateboard and matching helmet.)

Jacob: Thanks, guys.

Annabelle: Alright, it's time for cake.

(Everyone gets excited as Annabelle brings out a big chocolate cake with eleven white birthday candles on it, they sing the birthday song and Jacob blows out his candles.)

Rowen: Want me to take a picture of you and your friends?

Jacob: Sure thing, dad.

(Rowen takes a picture of the four boys smiling and having a good time, it then cuts back to the present.)

Carter: And to think Linda used to be into sterotypical boy stuff back then.

Linda: Well I actually only pretended to like that kind of stuff because I didn't know that I wanted to be a girl back then, I just thought I was weird.

Benedict: I kinda had a feeling that you didn't like being a boy, that's why a got you that journal, so you could write down your thoughts and emotions instead of bottling them up, but I guess that wasn't enough because you ended up cutting off your antlers two years later.

Linda: Actually Ben, it was writing in that journal that helped me realize that I wanted to be a girl instead of a boy.

Benedict: Well I'm glad I helped you discover who you really are.

(July second, four years ago.)

Carter: Oh my gosh!

Monty: I think I'm gonna be sick!

Benedict: What's going on gu- Oh sweet Jesus!

(It shows Jacob's head bleeding severely from where his antlers were with his antlers in one hand and a hack saw in the other.)

Benedict:(panicking) Jacob, are you okay!?

Jacob: I'm better than okay, I'm free.

Monty: Why did you cut of your antlers?

Jacob: I didn't like it...

Carter: You didn't like what?

Jacob: I didn't like being a boy, I was always curious about stereotypical girly things and I think it's because I always wanted to be a girl deep down.

Carter: Do you need us to take you to the hospital?

Jacob: No, I just need some ointment to keep my head from getting infected and bandages to stop the bleeding.

Benedict: On it!

(Benedict rushes to get the bandages and ointment because he desperately wants to keep Jacob safe.)

Benedict: I have what you need.

(Benedict tends to his wounds.)

Carter: Have you figured out a new name yet?

Linda: Yeah, from now on, call me Linda.

(It cuts back to the present.)

Linda: I'm sorry I did that, there were much safer ways to deal with my gender dysphoria and what I did freaked you guys out.

Carter: It's alright, you didn't know how to handle your dysphoria and that's okay.

Benedict: I'm just glad that you're okay now.

Monty: We'll always be there for you, boy, girl, or other.

Linda: Thanks guys..

The end of part 14

[lifetimeshipper]

I Will Find You

Chapter 6

---------------

"Soldiers," Magnus spoke up causing Arcee to pull from the embrace and Wheeljack to glare at him.

"Ultra Magnus," Bulkhead said, surprised to see the lieutenant.

"No time for lovey-dovey stuff right now," Magnus says as he looks at the screen, the Predacon was chasing them.

"He's right," Arcee said as she started walking towards one of the screens, "Care to tell us what's nipping at our tailpipes?"

"We think it's a robot dragon," Miko replied.

"Or a Cybertronian reptile," Jack added.

The Predacon caught up to them and shot out a fireball toward them but Magnus managed to dodge it, "Everybody brace yourself!" He says as he speeds up, dodging the Predacon's attacks. Arcee sat down in the seat next to him while Bulkhead grabbed Jack and Miko while he and Wheeljack tried to keep their balance. 

It turned into an ongoing chase between them and the Predacon, the Predacon trying to destroy them and Magnus dodging all its attacks. He turned around and started firing at it and soon hit it with a blast causing it to fall to the ground and they flew off.

Magnus headed towards the location where he was getting Bumblebee's and Ratchet's signals from. They land as soon as they reach the area and see Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Raf coming out to see who it is in the ship, they are filled with joy when they see it's their teammates. 

Miko is the first to jump off the ship after she spots Raf and she runs over to give him a hug, Jack follows her and gives Raf a high five before giving him a hug as well. Ratchet and Bumblebee watch as Wheeljack, Arcee, and Bulkhead step off the platform they were standing on and they see Ultra Magnus behind them, "Ultra Magnus," Ratchet says in disbelief.

"Doctor."

While Ratchet and Magnus discussed what the next move should be the rest were checking out Bumblebee's new paint job, "The new paint job looks good 'Bee," Bulkhead says as he looks him over.

"At least you have something to work with. If I reverse my colors I'd be pink," Arcee said as she shifted from one hip to the other.

Wheeljack watched her, looking over her body as she moved her hips. You really should watch how you move your hips in front of me. He said to her through their bond in a joking tone. You turn me on when you do. He added seductively.

And what's wrong with that? She asked in a seductive tone of her own.

Nothing wrong with it, you know I love watching you move your hips, but you need to be careful so you don't make me go crazy and I try something in front of the whole team.

Well, maybe we can meet up later in private. She said with a smirk.

Most certainly. He responded with a smirk of his own.

"I'm happy I can't hear what you guys are saying because, from the looks of those smirks, I'm gonna guess it's something I don't want to hear," Bulkhead said breaking the silence and drawing their attention from each other.

The two laughed, "Sorry, we were having a certain conversation," Wheeljack said.

"Yeah, I guessed so," Bulkhead said with a slight chuckle. Just then they heard a jet engine and they looked up to see a jet heading towards them, they knew immediately it was Fowler but Magnus didn't know and thought it was a Decepticon so he transformed his servos to his guns, and prepared to shoot.

Arcee and Bulkhead stopped him and explained that it was Fowler, an ally of theirs. Jack, Miko, and Raf ran to the jet to greet Fowler and June. Jack was so happy to see that his mom was alright and June was happy to see her son was alright, they gave each other a big hug then Jack stepped back and pushed Miko and Raf forward so June could hug them as well. She told them that their families were safe and they felt relieved.

"The only signals Magnus was able to isolate is standing right here," Arcee said as the bots talked with Fowler explaining their situation.

"Maybe his scanner's faulty," Wheeljack mentioned.

"So the kid's unaccounted for," Bulkhead said with concern for Smokescreen.

"Smokescreen bridged out unaccompanied, only Optimus knows where," Ratchet mentioned, "And Optimus stayed behind to destroy the Ground Bridge... To ensure that everyone else made it to safety..." Ratchet added with a heavy spark.

"I watched the base go down, there is no way anyone or thing could have made it out of there..." Fowler said.

"Not that we could see," June added.

"Even if Prime did survive I'm not sure that we can afford to wait for him to show up, not with Megatron holding our planet hostage from his high and mighty perch at Darkmount."

"I would be inclined to agree with the native life form, we must stop Megatron with or without Optimus Prime," Magnus says as he steps forward.

A bit later they went onto Magnus' ship and Magnus showed them the weapons he has, he told them to pick one so they all went on and picked a weapon. As they got ready to make a plan Wheeljack grabbed Arcee's servo and started walking off, "Let's go somewhere more private," he said as they got off the ship. 

Once they were away from the ship and out of sight Wheeljack pushed Arcee up against the side of a rock and started kissing her passionately. Arcee wrapped her arms around his helm as she kissed him back, she then rested herself against the rock as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Wheeljack started kissing her down her neck, "I really missed you," he said as he kissed her shoulder before moving back to her neck.

"I missed you too," she responded as she placed her servos on his helm, hoping that nothing and nobody will interrupt them.

"I love you so much, Arcee."

"I love you too, Wheeljack," Arcee said as she started getting the pain in her spark chamber again.

Wheeljack could feel it and pulled back, "Are you alright?"

"I've been getting this pain in my spark chamber, I don't know why or even what is causing it. I'm afraid it has to do with the Dark Energon bond Megatron forced upon me, but I'm not sure," Arcee said as the pain intensified and she grabbed at her chest, "It's been going on for a little while now."

Wheeljack pulled her into an embrace, "Have you told Ratchet?"

"Not yet, I plan to when this is all over," she replied as she rested her helm on his chest.

"Good. Don't worry we'll see to it you get better. I hate seeing you in pain."

"I know you will. You're too sweet."

"Anything for you babe."

They stood there in each other's embrace with Wheeljack holding her tight until the pain started subsiding, "We better head back."

"Yeah..."

[epuiseeparmedia]

I don’t know why not playing a 37 year old four games in a row is generating so much drama.

Or why Cristiano, who would play with a broken ankle and a fever if not stopped for his own sake, being momentarily a little sad about it get blown out of proportion. He had always been sad about not playing, that is the default position of literally any football player.

Oh yes I know. It sells papers. And haters think it vindicated den Tag, never mind it’s mighty… Switzerland, you know the ones Ronaldo already scored two in June, already at 37, maybe shill out with the hype; it ain’t Brazil yet. That poor Ramos literally got the best night of his career and journalists made it all about Cristiano.

Ronaldo doesn’t have contempt for the bald asshole for subbing him, despite the lies journalists decide they would spread. If people had actually watched the interview it’s not the subbing. He quite frankly admitted to his age and he was telling for a whole year before about giving young players a chance. He was annoyed to come in at the last five minutes. Multiple times. Each time with a bullshit excuse. And the United management leaking stories to the press. Like, be honest and don’t put him on the list so he can have the night out with his kids. My read is that he was also angry for Casemiro getting the same treatment or Garnacho getting completely ignored before the “strike” (but watch all the commentators ignoring it was Casemiro who saved that idiot at Chelsea, and give him credit for Garnacho prowess at Fulham when Voldemort had benched him again), and it’s part of the things he wouldn’t expand on so don’t quote me on that.

Look: Cristiano and Pepe had dragged that team to highs and lows for twenty odd years , Ronaldo was playing injured in 2014. Everyone screamed to stop relying on Cristiano too much and now that they do, now that they have a fighting chance, journalists can’t wait to chuck him without so much as a thank you note for all the works and give the potential glory to literally anyone else but him.

“They qualified but he didn’t help” as they forgot about fifa literally cancelling his goal against Serbia for no reason, goal that would have avoided the play off entirely. “They won but he didn’t score” as he attracted the whole defence to him and keep them busy. Like with Real Madrid, if Ronaldo didn’t score in the final he didn’t participate ; but when he did, he shouldn’t be happy because it is a collective sport and look at him being a narcissist again. “He created drama in the team” as he literally said nothing against anyone in it and it’s the journalists who bring his name at every conference. The Belgium team had a whole drama and got eliminated first round but you would think the troubled team this year is Portugal.

It’s the tell every hardworking person know. You devote yourself to a job but the moment you get sick, or even tired, or need the company to give back even a little, you are being ungrateful and pushy and entitled and why don’t you just resigned. Well he’s about to walk out.

[pepimeinrad]

Amazing player and the NEW WORLD CHAMPION!

CONGRATS, PETER WRIGHT!!!

[teenandbeyond]

Ichigo Kurosaki x Reader

This is an old one-shot I wrote, just brought it here.

🍓Day Out🍓(Bleach)

Warnings: None

Ichigo’s been weirdly busy lately, but today you got to spend time with him...you did not expect to see a ninja-warrior fight a monster on your way home though.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

“[Name] do we really have to do this?”

You scoff as you flip a page in his book, mumbling about it being the wrong page, “I don’t, but Ichigo, you do realize how behind you’ve been in class right?”

He scowled as he read over the page, writing what was useful, the obedient strawberry. “It’s not that bad.”

“Asano passed our test with a higher score than you.” He snapped his head over to you in shock, “What?! Really?! When did we have a test?”

You blinked, you had done the test three days ago, you got back your scores that afternoon, “Point proven. You need to study.”

Ichigo gave an uncharacteristic pout, “Fine.”

You smiled, “How about this? If you get five questions right, I’ll make your lunch tomorrow. If you can answer ten questions right at the end of this we’ll go to the arcade together. Your choice.”

“I’ll go for ten. I wanna hang out with you,” his eyes never left the notebook.

You felt a little giddy inside.

☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆

“That’s ten right?”

“Um...yeah actually. You answered them quick, you were really determined to be right, huh?” You asked with a sweat-drop.

He grunted a little as he sat up from your table, walking off to his bag by your door, he muttered to himself, “I was determined to spend time with you.”

You don’t think you were supposed to hear that, but, it made you feel warm...no, it had to be the heater...in June.

“Hey, [Name], didn’t you say we were going to the arcade?”

You hurry to clean up the space and follow him out of your living room area.

“Sorry, let’s go!”

☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Ichigo blinked in disbelief, “D-did you just win?”

You couldn’t help but be a little smug.

“Of course, Ichigo, because I play better than you.”

He got an irk mark, “No, you don’t! If we played something else, I’d totally kick your butt!”

You smiled, but you knew he wouldn’t, “Okay. Sure.”

“That sounded so insincere!”

Next, you both played a shooting game, you messed with him a little in the beginning, making him think he had a chance, but no, he lost.

P@cM@n, he lost that to you, too, and you made a new high score.

That dancing game, he underestimated your quick feet, he lost that game horribly.

“My butt hasn’t been kicked yet, Ichi. I’m starting to think you’re just that bad at games,” you grinned.

He tsked, “I’m not bad at games, you’re just a beast at them.”

Your teasing grin got as wide as a Cheshire cat’s, “Wow, a compliment from the Ichigo Kurosaki. I must really be cool then.”

“Can we go?”

“Embarrassed about losing for two hours, despite me giving you chances to try again, and again?”

“No! Never!”

You gather all of your tickets, “Mhm. Let's go get prizes.”

☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆

Ichigo’s eyes widened in awe at the giant plushie you held, “How many tickets was that?! 5,000?!”

“Over 9,000. I had, like, 20,000 tickets so I had some left over to get other things. I got a cute strawberry plushie for you in a bag I got from the claw machine.”

“I only had 3,000. How’d you manage to get that much?!”

You looked at him like that was the most obvious question ever, “Well, I’m better at playing games than you. Obviously.”

“Hey-” your phone interrupted him.

You flipped open your phone, checking the text, “I got a text from Orihime, she said something about inviting us over for dinner...hrn.”

Both your faces paled at the thought.

“We’re not going,” Ichigo gagged.

“Ichigo!” you smacked his arm around your giant plushie, “Don’t be rude!”

“But, I don’t want food poisoning!”

“I’ll just...help her...and...secretly fix all her dishes to make them edible.”

“Deal.”

☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆

“Um...Kurosaki...[Last Name]...did you two go on a date?”

You both turned pink after you processed the question, subconsciously scooting away from each other on the floor. Suddenly you were too close.

“W-what made you ask that weird question?!” Ichigo scowled.

She shyly looked away, the tips of her fingers touching, “Well, you have plushies and things, and...you both are together alone...”

“It’s not a date Inoue. You know we’re just friends,” you willed down your warm face. Why were you flustered at this? It’s not like you would like to go on a date with Ichigo, right?

“Oh,” she smiled, “Well, I’m gonna go make dinner-”

“I’ll help you!” you hurried out, you would.

“[Last Name] you’re a guest, you don’t--”

“I do! I mean--Um, I insist...I can’t let a young woman cook for so many people on her own...”

That was a terrible excuse.

“[Last Name]...we’re the same age...And...there’s only three...”

Ichigo snickered at your demise.

“Just--Just come on!”

You glared at the orange-haired teen as you helped Orihime in the kitchen.

☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

“My food tastes different...” Orihime furrowed her brows in thought.

You and Ichigo stiffened, did she find out?

“Is it...good?” You tested.

She nodded, “Yeah, really good! That means I’m getting better!”

You kind of felt bad, but your taste buds felt amazing, you’d just give her cooking lessons sometime.

You glanced at Ichigo who ate like he hadn’t eaten for days.

“Oh, Kurosaki! How have you been doing with the Hollows--”

“Orihime,” he warned.

You tilted your head, “Hollows? What does that mean? Is it like, a code? Or a--”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You just sighed, did this have to do with why you haven’t seen him as much anymore? He seems more secretive now, always leaving class, falling asleep, suddenly fainting, most of the time it’s around your new classmate, Rukia Kuchiki. Is that Kuchiki girl his secret girlfriend or something?

Why did that make you feel cold? You should be glad for him, he needs someone who cares for him, better than you can.

“[Name] when we get done, I’ll walk you home.”

You smiled, but it wasn’t as genuine as the rest of the day, “Alright.”

☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡.  .｡.:*☆

You walked back and opted for silence, Ichigo didn’t keep secrets from you, and you know he’s been hiding something for a while. You respect his privacy, so you haven’t asked, but..you wonder if he doesn’t trust you anymore.

He’s always been a bit strange, spacing off for a moment, sometimes muttering to himself on a walk home from school but you didn’t care, he was still Ichigo, you loved...liked those things about your friend because it made him, himself.

Suddenly, he paused.

“Ichigo?”

He snapped his head over to you like he’d forgotten you were there.

“[Name], hurry home.”

“What? Why-?”

You cut yourself off with wide eyes as you saw an awful-looking creature a few feet away.

“Ichi...go...what is that?”

“You can see it?”

“Can’t miss it! It’s, thirty friggin’ feet tall!” you exclaimed in fear.

“Back up.”

You did so with no question.

“Eh?!”

Next thing you know Ichigo became some Ninja-Warrior-- in your words-- and fought the monster.

“What the hell?! What the hell?!”

That’s all you could say.

It seemed it took him longer than he was expecting, but after a few minutes, he killed it.

He rushed back over to you, “Oi! You okay?”

You stumbled back, pointing a finger at him, “You--You’re some--some Ninja-Warrior?!”

He sighed, moving his blade after noticing you nervously had your eyes on it, “Substitute Soul Reaper, technically.”

You scoffed, “Oh, that’s so much better, you’re a bringer of death.”

“You’re mad.”

“At you taking forever to tell me? Yeah. The monster thing was scary, but I’m just confused with you more than anything.”

“I probably shouldn’t, but...I’ll explain...I could...see ghosts for as long as I can remember.”

“Well, that’s explained a lot about you.”

He sweatdropped, “You’re not...startled by that?”

You crossed your arms, “Ichi. I just saw a horse-loch ness monster-thing. So no, you seeing ghosts doesn’t startle me, apparently, I can see them too.”

He explained Rukia, which for some strange reason, you were relieved they weren’t dating, he told you how he became a Soul Reaper, which made you hit him after learning he stabbed himself. He explained Hollows and whatever else he knew.

“You’ve gone through a lot. Have you ever talked to anyone about it? How you feel?”

“I don’t have the time to talk about that.”

“Well,” you smiled at him, “You’ve talked to me about things before, now that I know this, you can talk to me about this too.”

“Yeah-”

“Hey, Ichigo! You killed the Hollow but I still feel high spiritual pressure other than yours. What going on?”

You turned around to see Rukia, also in the same get-up.

“Yeah, I thought I felt it too. Maybe there’s residue?”

“That’s not-”

“So am I just a tree or something?”

Rukia did a double-take, “Wait, you can see me?”

You raised a brow, “Kuchiki, I’m looking into your eyeballs. What do you think?”

Her brows furrowed, “Wait...”

Suddenly she was in your personal space, your brow stayed in its place.

“That intense spiritual pressure...it’s leaking from you.”

“Huh?”

She backed up, a little out of breath, “It fluctuates every few seconds. It could have been because you were with Ichigo for a long period of time, whatever you had locked up, it started to release around him.”

“Um...” you scratched your head.

“Let’s go!” she walked away expecting you to follow.

“What? Where?”

“Well, we need to hide that or else you’ll die, we’re going to Urahara’s shop.”

Ichigo groaned at the name.

While you on the other hand, “Die?!”

“Well, yes, those erm..monsters will keep coming after you like that.”

You caught up to Rukia, “I know what Hollows are.”

....

She deadpanned, “Ichigo told you everything, didn’t he?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s looking like you might be more involved in this so...I won’t worry about wiping your memory as long as you can keep it to yourself,” Rukia sighed.

“Wiping--Nevermind, yeah, I can, I’m better than Ichigo at that too.”

“Hey!” he growled from next to you.

“I suppose, I welcome you to this world, [Name] [Last Name]. It’s not pretty.”

“I figured after that Hollow I saw,” you told her in a serious tone.

“Good.”

You turned to your friend, “Hey, Ichigo.”

He glanced over with a hm.

“Thanks. You may not be better than me at games, school, secrets, dat-”

“What’s your point?” he asked with an irk mark.

You gave a bright smile, “But you’re the best at keeping me safe.”

His face turned pink, he looked away, “Yeah, yeah.”

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Eight

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: the beginning of the end :,) if u made it this far i think ur cool

***

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” Lana asks.

Nesta closes her eyes, letting the picture swirl and take shape in her mind.

This time last year, she would have imagined nothing. Nothing but a desk in a busy law office, and maybe a nice apartment if she was lucky. That would be it. But now she sees…

“Somewhere with good food and good music,” she muses. “Maybe a sea breeze.” The sun-faded buildings of Portofino fade into the foreground of her imagination. “There are lots of people with me,” she hears the sound of children shrieking and Cassian’s rumbling laughter, “but it’s okay, because I love every one of them.” Her eyes open. “Is that a good answer?”

A near invisible smile tugs at the corners of Lana’s lips. “You tell me, Nesta. Do you like what you see?”

“It’s a little too cinematic if you ask me,” Nesta says nonchalantly, picking up her bag from the ground, “but I suppose all dreams are that way.”

“It’s a good dream,” Lana says. “A worthy dream, and one you deserve to chase.”

Nesta shrugs lightly, not too worried about the burden of the future for once. “Maybe I will.”

“In that case, congratulations on completing your final therapy session,” Lana says, setting her notebook aside. “You’ve made some amazing progress this year.”

Nesta gives her therapist her signature what’s-wrong-with-you look. “I’m going on vacation, not firing you for good. I’ll see you again in two months.”

“Two months can be enough to lose all your progress, if you forget everything you went through to get here.”

Nesta isn’t stupid. She knows that she isn’t suddenly desperate to make babies or be maid of honor at her sisters’ weddings or some bullshit. She knows that the image she just dreamed up, with Cassian and kids and her unburdened heart, is likely more than five years away. If it happens at all, it could be ten, even twenty years of hard work away.

She’s not nearly finished growing yet. “I’ll see you in two months, Lana,” she repeats.

Lana smiles at her fully this time. “Enjoy your summer, Nesta.”

***

The air is different in the Smokies.

Nesta rolls the truck windows down so she can inhale it, relish it. Wind whips her hair every which way as they drive down the winding freeway cutting through the lush mountains, and something about the look on her face makes Cassian chuckle and press down on the accelerator.

Nesta watches the red needle on the speedometer cross ninety, then one hundred. She can barely feel the June heat with how fast they’re going.

In the end, it was Feyre and Elain that reached out and invited her to the Tennessee summer home. Cassian had made it obvious that he wouldn’t push her to go if she didn’t want to, and at first she really didn’t want to. But Feyre had looked so hopeful when she asked Nesta to come with them, and even Elain had revealed a glimmer of eagerness that Nesta would say yes.

So against all odds, she agreed to go.

Exchanging one mountain home for another isn’t much of a getaway, but Nesta can’t help but be excited. Even with the unhappy memories of her childhood, she loves these hills more than any other.

The pure exhilaration of being back in Tennessee overcomes her at some point during the drive, knocking her out in the passenger seat where she sits. In her drowsy state, she distantly hears the windows being rolled up, before feeling Cassian’s hand guide her head to rest against the glass. The rest of the drive is warm and sunny, enough to lull her into a deep sleep.

The next thing Nesta’s aware of is the crunch of gravel and the feeling of the truck tires slowing to a stop. Fingers brush against her heated cheek, and then Cassian is murmuring at her to wake up.

Blinking her eyes open, Nesta twists around to see their destination.

For a moment, she thinks she’s still dreaming.

“Welcome to Holly House,” Cassian says with a grin. The house in question is quaint and sprawling at the same time, the way most upper class Southerners like their houses. The whole thing gleams with a fresh coat of white paint under the afternoon sun, complemented by a sky blue wraparound porch. Colonial style windows and proud columns decorating the facade of the building makes it look like the setting of a fairy tale.

Beyond it, Nesta can see cherry blossoms. Pink, fluttering cherry blossoms that fly off their branches and swirl through the air, some of them disappearing into the thick woods behind the house. Woods that Nesta has walked countless times before.

“The rest of the guys won’t get here until tomorrow afternoon,” Cassian is saying to her, “so we have the whole place to our—”

Nesta isn’t listening anymore. She unbuckles her seatbelt and shoves open the truck door, hobbling outside on unsteady feet to make sure she isn’t hallucinating things. But no, this is…

“Cherrywood,” she breathes, eyes wide in disbelief.

Cassian gets out of the truck, coming up beside Nesta to slip his hand into her shorts pocket. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“This is Rhysand’s summer home?” Nesta points at the house. “This place?”

Cassian looks around at the building grounds in confusion. “Has been for the last two decades, yeah.”

It’s been eleven years since she last stepped foot on these grounds.

With wonderment in her voice, she utters to Cassian, “I’ve been here before.”

At his puzzled look, she explains, “I lived just on the other side of those woods.” She points to the trees. “There’s an old cracked road that hasn’t been maintained since it was first paved, and you can follow it straight to the poor side of town. Whenever I wanted to get away, I would come down that road and trek through the woods, and I’d end up here. I stopped coming because…” she trails off.

Because she got caught that one time.

Cassian seems to realize it at the same moment as her. His hand slips out of her pocket. “You…”

Nesta remembers a tall boy with shocked eyes and shaggy hair, and she shakes her head slowly in forceful denial. It can’t be true. It’s too much of a coincidence.

But he points at her, then her feet. “You—with the size six Converse,” he sputters. “It was you.”

Before Nesta can confirm or deny it, he grabs her by the wrist and starts tugging her along, up the porch stairs and inside the house.

Even with Rhysand and Feyre’s renovations, it looks undeniably the same as all those years ago. The living room is to her right and the farmhouse style kitchen and dining area is to the left, though she speeds by it all as Cassian pulls her farther inside the house, to the closet beneath the curving stairs.

He lets go of her hand to search the small closet, muttering, “I know they were here somewhere.” But the closet looks like it was stripped empty for renovations, with only bolts in the walls indicating that shoe racks used to hang there.

Cassian turns and heads for the stairs, and Nesta blindly follows him. She also wants to go upstairs, wants to see if the bay window looking out onto the garden has stayed the same.

Like he read her mind, he leads her straight to the room she used to spend hours reading in. It’s smaller than all the other bedrooms in the house, but it’s always been her favorite because of the view.

As Cassian keeps looking for whatever it is he’s looking for, upturning boxes and checking beneath furniture, Nesta drifts toward the bay window. She looks from the cherry blossom trees outside, to the full-sized bed, to Cassian, and a weight drops even heavier in her gut. She has to reach out and grip the edge of the dresser for support.

Finally, Cassian pops out of the closet victorious. In his hand are a pair of ragged shoes that Nesta hasn’t worn in a long, long time.

He comes over and drops them with a thud at her feet.

“Whose room is this?” she asks with a rough voice, still staring down at the shoes.

“Mine,” he answers simply.

“Oh.” She met him before. She met him before.

When Nesta dares to look up and meet Cassian’s eyes, what she finds there nearly robs her of breath: wonder, astonishment, and unwavering fealty. He breaks into sudden wholehearted laughter, which dazes her even more.

“What’s so funny?” she demands.

Cassian gets out between laughs, “What was it Rhysand said about Feyre? When they found out they were close to crossing paths when they were younger?”

Nesta’s earth-tilting shock slowly slips away, replaced by a stern look. “Don’t say it.”

He pretends to remember. “I think it was fate.” A wicked smirk pulls at his lips at Nesta’s resigned sigh. “But I have another word for it, too.”

“Don’t say that, either.” She pleadingly holds up her hands, only for Cassian to snatch one out of the air and intertwine his fingers with hers.

“Soulmate,” he says quietly, now less amused.

Nesta swallows thickly, not having any words for him. All she knows is that he is never going to let her live this down.

“Imagine if we’d gone to the same high school,” Cassian says to her later that afternoon as they lounge in his old room. “Fuck, I could’ve saved myself so much time with all those random girls.” They’ve been swapping childhood stories for the past hour, as if they might find more instances in their history of a red string tying them together.

Nesta doesn’t need coincidences or fateful run-ins to know that a string has always been wrapped around her ring finger, pulling her to Colorado and to that cabin. But for Cassian’s sake, she’ll gladly amuse him. “I would have been a freshman while you were a senior,” she says matter-of-factly. “It never could have happened.”

He hums in thought, head propped up in his hand, elbow propped up against the bay window seat. “Maybe if you were older. You would have been the smart, quiet girl, and I’d have been the player jock, and as soon as we locked eyes in math class, I’d be head over heels in love with you.”

Nesta cackles from where she sits in the window seat above him. “Now you’re just writing fanfiction.”

Cassian grins up at her but doesn’t send a rebuttal her way. The conversation falls into a lull, until Nesta has to reach out and ask, “What are you thinking?”

His smile turns a little sad. “That I wish we weren’t doing this right before I leave for another country.”

Right. That’s what’s been hanging over them the entire trip to Tennessee: that as soon as they get back to Colorado, Cassian is going to be on a plane to Milan.

Getting Keith O’Connell to quit—how exactly Cassian went about accomplishing it, he still won’t tell Nesta—left Rhysand at square one with his search for a team leader for his overseas venture.

When Cassian brought up the idea of taking the job to Nesta, he sounded like he hoped she would shoot him down, talk him out of it. He both wanted to go and was reluctant to leave, like his very soul was glued to his home and he didn’t want to unstick himself.

So Nesta, being his home, had to do the unsticking for him. She nearly accepted the year-long Milan position herself for Cassian’s sake, and it took weeks of coaxing and convincing to put him at ease about the whole thing.

“But we promised to go together for the first time,” he kept saying.

“We’ll still go together one day, and it’ll still be our first time there with each other,” she reassured him.

Eventually, he relented to her and Rhysand’s pressures with a single condition. “I’ll do six months. Not a year.”

Only Nesta knows deep down how much Cassian needs this opportunity. Though Cassian must know it a little bit too, because he wouldn’t have taken the job if he didn’t.

Nesta might have needed him in order to come out of her shell, but now he needs to get away from her in order to find his own shell. Something he can call his own, unburdened by his loyalties to the people he loves. So he can find who he wants to be for himself, without always being attached to her hip.

Rising to her feet, Nesta raises her arms in the air in a full body stretch. Her back and legs ache with being curled up in that window seat for so long without movement.

Dropping her arms, she holds out a hand to Cassian still sitting on the floor. “Come on,” she urges him. “Let’s go outside. I haven’t seen a Smoky sunset in years.”

“But it’s not evening yet,” he argues while taking her hand.

Outside, they explore the garden that leads into the woods while waiting for the sun to slink down the sky. Cherry blossoms ride the summer breeze wherever it takes them, resulting in Cassian sniffling and scratching at his neck as they walk hand in hand.

“Rhysand wanted to take these trees down and replace them with a flower garden for Elain,” he tells Nesta as they walk. His sinuses sound clogged, but he’s refused to go back inside until he’s explained every inch of the land to Nesta. “I convinced him not to because it would ruin the view from my bedroom window. Didn’t I make the right choice?” He throws a grin in her direction.

Nesta’s swallow is tight at that grin. “The view from your room was always my favorite part about the entire place. So yes, you did good.”

His eyes widen at that tidbit of information, and she can almost see him tucking it away as more Soulmate Evidence.

They stroll through the woods for a while, and Nesta points out the path she would take to get to Cherrywood—she still insists on calling it Cherrywood, even when Cassian argues that the house’s original name has been around since the sixties.

“Show me the rest of the way?” Cassian asks her, face lit up in boyish hope. “Show me where you ran away to that day I found you.”

Nesta almost expects the memory of the rundown apartment complex she grew up in to feel like being shoved into sludge: dirty, cold, and slimy. Instead, she finds she has no problem with looking back at her old home, no matter how many ugly memories she holds from there.

However, the dappled sunlight streaming in through the trees overhead has turned from yellow to dark gold, and she shakes her head in apology to Cassian. “Another day,” she promises him. “It’s almost sunset.”

They walk back to the house, rounding it until they reach the front. At the bottom of the hill that the house is perched on stands a pier that leads all the way out to the lake. Green mountains frame the lake from both sides, creating the perfect cradle for the sun to sink into.

They go all the way out to the edge of the pier, as if they’re trying to get as close to the sunset as physically possible. Dragonflies lazily swoop by as the lake is gradually painted in a hundred different colors.

Once there’s more darkness than light in the sky, Cassian nudges Nesta with one of the arms he has around her. “Look.” He points.

Along the shoreline of the lake, little dots of light have lit up to welcome the evening, their blinking glow so small that Nesta almost doesn’t catch it. Fireflies.

Nesta watches the insects flit in and out of the long grasses of the lake shore, getting tangled in the weeds and wildflowers. In that moment, she remembers something Cassian once confessed to her not long after his birthday.

I want to see more beautiful places with you.

Nesta ticks this beautiful place off the long list in her head—the first place out of many that she plans to see with Cassian.

More beautiful than the scene before her is the man in her arms. The man who was kind enough to understand a woman who barely understood herself, and to be her friend when she had none. The man who is extending his kindness right now by not having made any breaking-and-entering jokes about Nesta so far, though she’s sure he’ll pull them out eventually.

Discovering that she once found Cassian, just to let him slip by running away from him, only to find him again over a decade later—it comforts the tiny part of her that’s loath to say goodbye to him in two weeks.

Like Cassian is thinking the same thing, he murmurs into the dark, “I can’t wait to come back to you.”

Nesta huffs in amusement. “You haven’t even left yet.”

“I know.” After a moment, he adds in a low voice that not even the fireflies can hear, “Thank you for convincing me to go.”

She reaches up to squeeze his bicep. “Always.” And then she adds what she really wants him to hear: “Don’t come back until you find what you’re looking for.”

“I better find it quick then,” he jokes. Still, he nods in promise against the side of her head.

The only sound after that is the chirp of cicadas and the occasional lap of water meeting the pier beams. Nesta and Cassian stay outside in the June heat long after the sky turns ink blue.

***

a/n: next chapter is just some ic bullshit so take all ur bittersweet sentimentality here and go

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99 @mystic-bibliophile

[a-simple-gaywitch]

“I’m SO Fired”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer falls in love with Dave Rossi’s adopted daughter

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of brutal case, mentions of death of parents, that’s it. it’s mostly fluff

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov

~

Spencer was leaning over Emily’s desk, helping her with some details of her paperwork. He glanced up and noticed a beautiful woman briefly talking to Anderson before entering through the glass doors. 

“Reid. Reid!” Emily said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “And just like that, 187 gets slashed to 60.”

The woman walked over to the desk with the two. “Uh, hi,” you said. “Is Dave Rossi here?”

“Oh, um, he should be here. Did you- do you have a meeting with him?” Spencer asked. 

“Kind of,” you said with a small laugh that made Spencer’s stomach flutter. “I’m-”

“(Y/N)!” Hotch said when he saw you. 

“Aaron!”

Emily and Spencer exchanged glances as you gave Aaron a brief hug. 

“Are you here to see your dad?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, is he here?”

“He should be in his office. How long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend,” you said. “But I’m coming back in June for vacation.”

“Well, I’ll let you go see your dad,” Hotch said. As you walked up the stairs, he turned to see Spencer gawking at you. Emily looked at Hotch apologetically. Hotch sighed and said, “Reid, focus on your paperwork, not (Y/N) Rossi.”

~

You knocked on the office door, waiting to hear your father’s voice. 

“Come in!” You pushed open the door and your adoptive father’s face lit up. “Tesorina!” he said, getting up to kiss your cheeks. “I was wondering when you were getting in. How’s work? And what about that boyfriend of yours? Anything-”

“Dad,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know at dinner. But you promised you’d introduce me to your team the next time I was in town.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” he said, pushing up from his desk. He slung his arm around your shoulder and steered you out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen, and they all turned to face Rossi when he cleared his throat. “Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N).” He then introduced each team member to you, save for Aaron.

“Wow, Rossi, I didn’t know you even had a daughter,” Morgan said. 

“Gee, Dad, you don’t talk about me to your coworkers? I’m hurt,” you said, pressing your hand over your heart. 

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“So, you’re a Rossi?” Emily asked you. 

“Not biologically. Dave adopted me when I was five,” you explained.

“Initially, I was just fostering her for a little while, but I fell in love with this little rascal,” he said, ruffling your hair.

You set about fixing your hair. “Well, I gotta run. See you at the house for dinner?”

“Yeah, I should be done around 6. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me, get into trouble? When have I ever been known to do that?” You shot a wink at the man you now knew to be Dr. Reid before leaving the BAU.

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink and he felt Rossi’s eyes on him. He looked down at his desk, busying himself with organizing his pen cup. When he heard Rossi’s office door close, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s desk. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Pretty Boy. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Ms. Rossi, would it?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” he muttered, focusing on folding a small piece of paper on his desk into even smaller squares.

~

Dave walked into his house (mansion) to the smell of garlic bread and tomato sauce. He smiled and set his coat on the rack by the door. 

“You know, I would have cooked!” he called as he made his way to the kitchen. You were setting the table for the both of you. 

“Yes, but how often do you actually cook?” you asked him as you poured two glasses of red wine. “You’re always away on cases, I know how much fast food and takeout you eat. Now shut up and enjoy my carbonara.”

Dave chuckled and sat down at the table across from you. “So, how’s work going?” he asked you. 

You shrugged. “You know, there’s good days and bad days. We had a brother and his little sister get adopted together this week, which is always one of the big wins for us.”

He nodded. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Chad?”

“Oh, we broke up,” you said. “About a month ago.”

“Good, I didn’t really like him.”

“Dad, you say that about every guy I date.”

“And it’s true, I haven’t liked any of the guys you’ve dated.”

“Yeah, the only guys you’ve liked have been the ones you’ve tried to set me up with.”

“That’s not true!”

“Dad, remember Stephen?”

“I thought you would be a good match, honest. And before you say it, it’s not just because I’m overly protective.”

“So, we can admit you’re overprotective of me?” you said. 

“Of course I am. And can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said with a shrug. “And you could be worse. I could still be living here.”

“Oh, come on. Would that be so bad, having a huge house mostly to yourself?”

“Well, no, but I like living in Pennsylvania,” you said. “And I like having an apartment.” Your father gave you a skeptical look. “Stop profiling me.”

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off.” He took a sip of his wine. “You’re planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I do every year, you know that.”

“Yeah. They’d be so proud of you, you know.”

You smiled down at your plate and pushed the pasta around. “I know. I, uh, I don’t have many memories of them anymore,” you said. “But the one I’ve been trying to get rid of is still there.”

Dave reached across the table and grabbed your hand. “Hey. Your parents loved you, so much. That’s all you need to remember, okay? They loved you so much that they sacrificed themselves for you.”

“Yeah.”

You lost your parents when you were five. There was a serial killer in the Greater DC Area, a family annihilator. He’d called himself the Orphan Maker. The man would seek out young families with kids no older than 8 and kill the parents first, in front of the children. Then he would kill the children. 

Rossi had been on that case, and had found that your family was the next target. Unfortunately, they did not get to your family before the man killed your parents. But fortunately, they caught him before he could get you. 

Rossi felt guilty they didn’t make it in time. When the law officers found that you didn’t have any family to take you in, Dave offered to bring you home. The plan was to originally just be a foster parent to you until CPS found a place for you to stay officially. But he fell in love with you. You were a little spitfire, a little troublemaker. Dave adopted you and dedicated the rest of his life to taking care of you and protecting you.

~

“Hey, Rossi!” Morgan said as he met the man in the kitchen to get coffee. “How was your weekend with (Y/N)?”

Rossi noticed Reid’s back straighten at the mention of (Y/N)’s name. He smiled to himself, a plan forming in his head. It was a bit of a convoluted plan, but it would work out for everyone in the end. 

“Oh, it was fine. She made me watch an episode of that show Reid and Garcia like.” He glanced over at Spencer’s desk and noticed he was listening intently. “I agreed since she’s still recovering from a recent breakup.”

“Is she okay?” Derek asked. “I know breakups can really suck.”

“She’ll be okay, she bounces back quick. I didn’t like the guy anyway. He was a meathead jock who thought being the high school quarterback was his entire personality. I want her to find a guy who’s smart and kind, someone I like.” He walked out of the kitchenette and passed Reid’s desk. He clapped his shoulder. “Morning, Reid.”

~

You were back in the area for a week-long vacation, and Dave had promised to go sight-seeing in DC with you. 

You walked into the bullpen and were greeted by Penelope, who had quickly become your friend. She wrapped you in a hug before Rossi made his way over to you. 

“Hey, Dad. You ready to go?” you asked after giving him a hug.

“Um, actually, I have to work late. But, you know, Dr. Reid here,” Spencer’s head snapped up from where he was packing his bag at the mention of his name, “knows more about the area than anyone I know. He can show you around. Right, Reid?”

Spencer looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

You smiled at him and Spencer felt the butterflies that were already in his stomach go crazy. The two of you walked out of the office, Spencer nervously gripping the strap of his bag while you walked alongside him. 

Penelope looked at Rossi narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to work late.”

Rossi smiled. “No.”

Penelope gasped. “You’re trying to set them up, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Rossi said before walking back to his office. 

~

“So, Dr. Reid,” you said as the two of you walked out of the FBI building, “I heard you’re a huge Doctor Who fan.”

Spencer turned to look at you, losing his footing and tripping on the sidewalk. He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you can call me Spencer. And yeah, I’m-I’m a fan.”

You smiled and Spencer thought the sun had come out again with the brightness you radiated. “Who’s your favorite? Personally, I’m a Tennent girl, but Baker is a close second.” Spencer was staring at you, his jaw dropped. “What?”

“You might be the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

~

When Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful woman asleep next to him, her head on his bare chest. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair as you started stirring.

“Morning,” he said as you looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” You saw his smile falter and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so fired,” he said. “I slept with my boss’s daughter. I’m so fired. No, I’m more than fired. I’m dead. Rossi is going to kill me.”

“Hey. Spence, breathe,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “He’s not going to do anything to you. And if he tries, he’ll face my wrath.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, after that guy drove through that puddle and splashed you last night, I believe it.” He was silent for a moment as the two of you sat up in the bed. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. “What are you going to tell him when you go home?”

You shrugged, leaning your head back. “The truth. I got to know a sweet guy last night and I stayed the night at his place.”

Spencer smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

~

You slipped into the Rossi Manor, feeling like a teenager missing curfew again. You got about halfway through the kitchen before hearing Dave clear his throat. You spun around to see him standing by the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, uh, morning, Dad.”

“So, you were out all night.���

“Yep.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is he?” When you didn’t answer, he said, “Spencer?”

Your face paled. “How did-”

“You didn’t really think you could hide that from an old profiler, did you?” He handed you the mug. “Don’t worry, I approve. I’d be more than happy to have Spencer as a son.”

“Dad!”

~

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” - J.R.R. Tolkien