#rpf fanfiction

[spicywhenspeaking]

I Dare You -> Noah x Reader

“You what?” Noah puffs out, shaking his head like he doesn’t understand what I meant.

“I said, I dare you.”

I repeat again and rise onto my tiptoes to crowd further into his space. I’m done playing our little game of cat and mouse. If he wants to make a move the ball is in court.

His lips quip up in an arrogant smirk. “Dare me? What are you 12?” He lets out a dark husky laugh and his eyes move down, glancing between my eyes and my lips.

I return his laugh softly, “I’m just giving you a chance to make your move” I purr out as my hands traces up and down his chest. “You think you’d be satisfied with just one kiss?” He asks tauntingly.

Teasing the corner of his mouth, brushing mine against his, “I don’t think it’s me that’s going to be begging for more after” I tease him back.

“Oh shut up,” he cracks out before slamming his lips down onto mine in a desperate kiss. His hands grasp under my chin in a tight grip as he other hand holds onto my pulled back hair. It’s not soft or romantic, it’s heavy and harsh and full of unsaid words and unexpressed feelings.

Noah is pouring everything into this kiss, licking into my mouth with ferocity. Sucking onto my bottom lip and then trailing kisses down to my neck. He breathes in my scent deeply and squeezes my hips and pulls us sharply together. “You’re right, it’s not enough.” He rasps put. “I need more, will you give me more?”

He asks and looks up into my eyes, his own twinkling with lust. I nod lost in his gaze and let out a pathetic sound, “mmhm” I hum and he’s on me again. Reaching around to pull my ass closer to him and latching onto my mouth again, quickly seeking entrance with his tongue.

Part 2

divider from here (X)

Taglist: @cookiesupplier @koskeepsake <3

[filthyjoetini]

Stumblin' In

a/n: Hello loves! I'm back! And this time I've pre written 3/4 of a story...who is she?! I don't know her. Soooo...this little story will have four parts and is (very) loosely based on something that happened in Venice when I saw Joe...(still not over it tbh...heh). Thank you to my warrior editor and influence for this story @barfightzanddiscolightz. &lt;3

warnings: none

wordcount: 1.9k (she's short)

part 2 - part 3 - part 4

You blinked rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the brightness that suddenly overtook the previously dimly lit screening room of the cinema you were sitting in. Your brain just wasn't made for such quick changes, especially while it was still processing what had just happened on screen. The film you had chosen to watch was one of those arthouse indie productions that attracts all kinds of people from all walks of life.

Slowly you pushed yourself out of the plush seat and stretched your arms over your head. Your ever-weary limbs and joints popped, and you feared that one of the at least 50 other people in the room had heard it. 

Taking your time, you picked up your trusty leather jacket, which had once belonged to your father, and pulled it on. You shoved your hands into its pockets to retrieve your mobile phone. As you checked your unread messages, your eyes moved from the screen to your Dr. Martens-clad feet. You had undone the laces, wanting to be as comfortable as possible. Shrugging, you began to walk down the aisle, the laces whipping your jeans-covered calves, shins, and other seats along the way. You told yourself you would tie them once you had reached the atrium.

With your face almost buried in the screen of your phone, you stepped to the top of the stairs and began your descent. Not even three steps down, you stumbled over your now tangled shoelaces and instantly lost your footing. With a small yelp, you practically flew down the stairs, right into the back of someone's legs. The abrupt stop sent your phone flying down the hallway and past the curtain, as your head snapped back, slamming into the steps. The impact made your breath catch in your lungs and you let out a small whimper.

"Oh my God! Are you alright?"

With blurred vision and eyes refusing to cooperate, you tried to make out who was speaking to you. You knew it was a man from the voice, but his features were a mystery in the blur. Your eyes not working the way you wanted them to made you let out a frustrated sigh. You began slowly blinking your eyes, hoping for a clearer perspective, before giving up and closing them completely.

"Hey! No! Open your eyes!"

You sluggishly opened them again, your vision still as blurred as before. Lifting your arm, you tried to touch the man hovering above you. The movement sent a jolting pain through your arm, up your neck, and into the back of your head.

"Ouch.", you hissed.

"'Yeah, ouch.”, replied the still blurry man. "Please focus on me, can you do that for me?"

 "Yep.", you lied. You couldn't focus on shit, because in addition to your blurred vision, your head was throbbing like you'd been hit by a freight train.

"Okay. Cool. You hit your head pretty hard. Can you move your legs?"

You made slow, jerky movements with your legs, wiggling your toes in your boots, not realising he couldn't see them.

"Okay. They work. Good! That means, no spinal injury.”, the man said, obviously relieved. "I'm going to move you now, is that alright?"

You nodded and immediately regretted it. Your head hurt like hell. How could a carpeted step hurt so much?

Warm hands slowly pushed under your arms and knees and then suddenly, but slowly, strong arms lifted you up and close to an even warmer body. As gentle as he was, the movement of your body was still very uncomfortable and made you whimper again.

"I know. I'm sorry.”, the man who was now walking spoke softly. As you both passed through the curtain into the even brighter hallway, you turned your head towards the man's chest to avoid the glaring overhead lights. You pressed your face into the fabric of his top and inhaled deeply. He smelled damn good.

"...is there a room I can take her to? She hit her head on the stairs when she fell. Also, could you call the A&E, I think she has a concussion."

"Sure, follow me please.”, a new feminine voice said and then there was a static crackle. "Henry, can you please call A&E, we have an injured woman with a suspected concussion."

"Copy. A&E is being called.”, came back Henry's very staticky voice over what you assumed was a walkie-talkie.

A few moments later you heard a door open and were carried very carefully into a small, office-like room.

"You can put her on the sofa. The paramedics will be here any minute."

Gently you were lowered onto the sofa. Gone were the strong arms and the warmth, and you began to shiver. Your eyes slowly began to focus, and you could finally see, though still blurred, the man who had been helping you. He was tall and handsome. His dark blonde hair was curly, and his face had a very patchy five o'clock shadow. But the most striking thing about his face was his huge, baby cow eyes, which were currently wearing a worried expression. Your gaze moved slowly down his body. He was wearing brown trousers with black loafers and a beige cable-knit jumper, topped off with a very expensive looking black trench coat. Visually, he was the exact opposite of you. You had opted for your usual all-black autumn outfit.

With a small but noticeable smile, you closed your eyes for a second and another shiver ran through your body. Unexpectedly, you were suddenly covered by a blanket. Slowly you opened your eyes to see that it wasn't a blanket, but the man's trench coat.

"Thank you...", you whispered. You were surprised at how weak your voice sounded, but the drowsiness that was slowly creeping up on you made it difficult to speak. Your eyes closed again.

"You're welcome...hey! No! Don't fall asleep!"

"But I'm so sleepy."

"I know, but you can't."

The man's voice was very close now, and as you felt hands cupping your face, your eyes shot open again. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was kneeling beside the sofa and his own eyes held yours in an equally steady gaze.

“You literally can’t fall asleep because you took quite the tumble there, Humpty Dumpty and I’m 99 percent sure you incurred a concussion.”, he explained with a grin. "Besides, you keep moving your head when you should be holding it still. If I have to hold your face to keep you awake and mostly still, I will gladly continue holding it."

You didn't respond to him. You just kept staring at him and he had the audacity to just stare back at you with his big, wet, brown puppy dog eyes. 

A few moments later there was a knock on the door and two paramedics with a stretcher made their way inside.

"Hello there! You must be our patient.”, one of the paramedics said as he made his way over to you. He then looked down at Mr. Baby-Cow-Puppy-Eyes and spoke again. "Sir, may I ask you to move so we can examine her?"

"Uh... sure.”, he replied, taking his hands off your face, slowly rising to his feet. You groaned weakly as his fingers lightly brushed your jaw and he let out a soft snort before turning to the medic. "I was just trying to keep her awake. She fell down the stairs and hit her head on one of the bottom steps."

"Thank you.”, the second paramedic said, moving in to examine your head and neck. Your rescuer stepped back and moved to the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest to wait. He was still in your line of sight, so you looked at him occasionally to make sure he was still there, and every time you did, he smiled sweetly at you.

"Ooookay.", the second paramedic said as soon as she concluded her examination. "You have a mild to moderate concussion and swelling on the back of your head. We need to take you to the hospital for a 24-hour observation."

You frowned at her, and she smiled sympathetically. "Do you want your boyfriend to come with us?"

"Who?" you asked, a confused expression on your face.

"Him.”, she said, pointing to the corner where your knight in a cable-knit jumper was standing.

"I'm not her boyfriend. I'm the one she collided with.”, he chuckled and shook his head.

"Alright, I'll take that as a no.”, the paramedic grinned at him and then down at you. "Are you ready to be hoisted onto the stretcher?" 

"Um...", you started, then suddenly panicked as you softly patted your jacket and jeans pockets. Your mobile phone - you didn't have it on you. "Wait! My phone! It must have slipped out of my hand or pockets when I went all humanoid egg earlier..."

Your reference to the handsome man's earlier statement made him burst out into laughter.

"She hasn't lost her sense of humour. Good.”, the first paramedic said with a chuckle, and began to lift you up by your feet, while the other paramedic assisted him by simultaneously lifting you up by your torso. The coat that still covered you was about to slip off your body if you hadn't grabbed it as if it were your lifeline. In a way it was your lifeline, for you were still cold, and the weight of the fabric did an excellent job of keeping you warm.

"I'll go look for it. Just give me a second.”, expensive trench coat guy announced, and quickly slipped out of the room.

Not even five minutes later he returned, waving your mobile phone in the air.

"Here you go.”, he smiled, handing you the phone but not letting go of it. "Please keep me informed about your condition." Just as he started to remove his hand from your phone, he added: "And you can keep my coat for now, but I want it back at some point."

"OK. I will, and you'll get it back... at some point.”, you promised, as the two paramedics wheeled you out of the small room. Halfway down the hallway you suddenly realised that you didn't have his contact details. How were you going to let him know how you were?

"Wait! Stop!", you shouted, making yourself jump more than the two people you were addressing. "Can you please turn around?"

"All right, but just for a second. We really need to get you to the hospital.”, the male paramedic explained impatiently, and they both turned the stretcher around and were about to push you back when you saw him standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"I don't have your number!", you called, waving your mobile.

"Check your contacts.”, he urged with a wink, before pushing himself away from the wall and walking the other way. "Keep me updated!"

"I will!"

The two paramedics turned the stretcher around again and began to push it hastily towards the cinema's delivery entrance where the ambulance was parked. All the while, you unlocked your phone to see if he had really left you his number. He had to have. How else would he get his coat back?

Quickly, you opened your contacts app and there it was: a new entry.

Next to the emoji with the bandage on its head was his name:

Joe.

Grinning to yourself, you locked your phone and put it to your chest as the ambulance sped off to the hospital...

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @littledemon-lilith @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface @alessxaa

crossed out = couldn't tag

[princessmisery666]

Please don't leave. Jensen Ackles and reader

Please Don't Leave

Summary: Friends to lovers to friends, that can work, right? 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, fluff, Jensen in his thicc Soldier Boy era (that’s a warning in itself!)

W/C: 4.3k

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki. Small Parts/Mentioned: Karl Urban, Jack Quaid, Gen Padalecki.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Notes: For the purpose of this fic, Jensen is not and never has been married. 

A/N: This drabble got way out of hand. 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // any mistakes belong to me.

Graphics: Title card Jensen photo credit - https://twitter.com/_AlanaKing_ Soldier Boy image from Variety. Fly video belongs to me.

Master Lists: Dean Winchester // Main // Made Up Fic Titles

“Help me understand,” you implore. 

The first domino to set off the chain reaction was in the form of a famous and beautiful actress, Mae Nova, sliding into Jensen’s DM’s—a  very detailed offer with an accompanying photo that you saw by no fault of your own. How is irrelevant. Why is the issue. Why didn’t he delete it or immediately set her straight? 

“You’re the one that wanted this, Jay,” you say when he remains silent. “You're the one who pursued me, convinced me we should try and turn the ten years of friendship into something more.” 

“I know.” He sighs, pushing a hand through his longer hair. “And I don’t regret a second of the last six months we’ve been together…” he doesn’t say it; however, the ‘but’ demands attention like a flickering light.

“But you're having second thoughts?” 

“No!” he denies vehemently, finally looking you in the eye. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” 

“Well, one of us has to!”

He shakes his head, exhaling loudly. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, sounding like a broken record. His heart rate is running high, and his chest heaves with every breath, but his vocabulary appears to be running low.

You tsk, fighting back a scathing comment about needing a script writer to make him talk. But it wouldn’t be fair. He’s not a man who runs from his emotions. He’s just trying to make sense of it all like you are. You have to remind yourself he’s not Dean Winchester. He doesn’t look much like him anymore either; longer hair, beard growing almost wildly, no plaid in sight in the Soldier Boy wardrobe at the back of the fancy trailer. 

Is that where the lines blurred? Working together for so long on Supernatural, have you both confused the other for your characters and their feelings toward the other?

“You can stop saying your sorry. I forgive you,” you say, and he turns a watery gaze your way. It almost breaks your resolve, but you realize it’s down to you to be the strong one. “I just need to understand why? Why didn’t you reply and tell her you're in a relationship? You’ve done it a hundred times before.”

“I don’t know.”

To make matters worse, Mae had landed a role on The Boys and would be working alongside Jensen.

“Jensen, you spent fifteen years of your life devoted to Supernatural, ten of those with me around. I think you were scared of the end, afraid of losing such a big part of yourself.” 

“I was,” he agrees, in a whisper as if you speaking the words is the reason for his realization of it being the truth.

“Maybe us being together was a knee-jerk reaction?” you suggest, “a way to cling onto the past.” You take a deep breath, and your chest tightens as if begging yourself not to say the next part. “Maybe you need a clean break, see what the world looks like without Supernatural… without me.” 

“What? No.” He looks offended but can’t hold eye contact and doesn’t offer anything further.

You can’t keep going around in circles, so you make a decision, sitting down at the small table and firing up your laptop.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, rushing to look over your shoulder, perhaps worried you’ll take it upon yourself to reply to the woman. “Searching for flights back home?” Jensen says, panic clear in his tone. Harshly he slams the laptop shut, and you look up at him. “You can’t leave.”

“Give me a reason to stay.” 

“Me, us!” he yells, “we can work this out.” 

You stand up and gently press your lips to his. Jensen’s hand automatically goes to the small of your back, guiding you around the chair to better press himself against you.

The kiss is natural and unhurried, but there’s too much tension in his body, and you know it’s because he feels it, too. This is your last kiss. 

A little breathless, you pull back. “I don’t wanna fight, Jensen.” 

“Me neither.” 

“So let me be the bad guy,” you say, heart aching but trying to hold it together. “Let me walk away before the wound is too big to save our friendship.”

He grimaces as if tasting something bitter but nods once, “I’m sorry.”

It’s been a long day. All Jensen wanted to do was take a shower and crash, but Karl convinced him to go for dinner with the cast and crew. 

The conversation is light, everyone enjoying their food and making small talk. It’s nice enough, but it’s incomplete because you're not there. 

He wishes it was you beside him instead of Mae. The seating arrangements have no rhyme or reason. It just happened that way. But still, he almost resents that she’s the one next to him. So much has happened in the weeks since he last saw you. He wants to share it all with you, and wants to know how you are - if you’re struggling with his absence as much as he is with yours. 

“Okay there, Ackles?” Jack asks, “You're a world away.” 

“Yeah,” he lies, sitting up straighter and smiling. “Just thinking…” 

Karl must know the look of a man missing his significant other because he asks, “About your girl?”

“Yeah,” Jensen admits, sighing heavily. He hasn't told anyone you broke up, and there’s been no speculation in the tabloids.

“Tell us about her. You never did tell us about your first date,” Jack says, “we all know you met on Supernatural, but not the story of your first date.” 

Jack’s an awesome guy, sweet and kind, he doesn’t know the reminder is like a kick in the teeth, but Jensen obliges. 

Jensen hurried across the lot, a coffee in each hand, the brown paper bag containing two cinnamon rolls dangling from his mouth. He was late, and Jared would give him shit for it, but it would be worth whatever Jared threw at him if it improved your morning.

Your latest Instagram post was a photo of a fly swimming in your coffee with the caption: “It was my last coffee pod. This just topped off a crappy weekend😭. #HappyMonday”. You were one hundred percent a coffee snob. You made it in a particular way using a fancy - and stupidly expensive - machine. You wouldn’t settle for the coffee on set. You’d rather go without. However, Jensen knew when you didn’t get her morning beverage, you’d be grumpy all day, and he hated to see you without a smile.

He headed for the makeup trailer, knowing that’s where you’d be. He kicked the bottom of the door gently as a way of knocking, then waited. 

He didn’t expect Jared to be the one to open it. He wasn’t due in makeup for another half-hour, but his lanky frame filled the space of the open door. “Look who decided to show up,” Jared jeered playfully. 

“Shut up,” Jensen mumbled around the bag, walking past him.

You were already there, looking through clothes on the rack, but stopped to smile at him. “Morning, Jay.”

“Here,” he said, handing over the coffee that was for you. “Hi, hey, morning.”

Confusion wrinkled your brow, but you took it. “Um, thanks.” 

“I saw your Instagram, and I know how cranky you get without your coffee, and you said you had a shit weekend, so I wanted to try and make it better,” Jensen vomited words without thinking. “I don’t like seeing you upset, and you’ve been down a lot lately, and I just thought maybe this would help, some, a little, maybe.” Breathlessly he shrugged and prayed the floor would open up and swallow him.

Your smile beamed, and you lifted the cup to your nose, inhaling the aroma, and hummed contentedly, “Mmm. You even got my order right,” you said and stepped closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s cause you're always posting about it on social media,” quipped Jared.

You tutted, rolling your eyes at your co-star but kept your eyes locked on Jensen. Dropping back down from your tiptoes, you said, “Thank you for this. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

“It’s nothing,” he lied. It was everything, and as your kiss dried on his cheek, it reminded him of your evening plans. “I know you’ve got a long day ahead, especially with your date later.”

As part of a charity event, you had agreed that they auction off a date with you. The auction had been silent, so you had no idea who had hired you for the night. Though the studio had assured you they had vetted the winner, you’d asked that he and Jared be in the bar next door in case of emergency.

“Oh god,” you groaned, “don’t remind me. I wish I never agreed to that stupid silent auction.” 

“Ah, don’t be such a downer,” Jared said, winking. “You never know. He might be the man of your dreams.”

Oh god, I hope not. Jensen thought. He’d already had to watch you be in a relationship with Chad, a man who neither deserved you nor treated you well. He couldn’t bear to watch you be with someone else again. He wanted to be next in line, and he would treat you as you should be, like a Queen. He just needed to work up the courage to tell you.  

“I doubt it,” you sighed, and Jensen swore your eyes flicked to him and away again. “Besides, who said it’s a man who hired me?”

“C’mon, you two,” Zara, the makeup artist, said, waving them toward the door, “out! I’ve got to get this one ready.”

Amongst a chorus of goodbyes, Jared and Jensen left. “What is it with you when you’re around her?” Jared asked as soon as the trailer door was closed. “You’re a bumbling idiot, and she’s starting to notice.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, she asked me what’s wrong with you. Thinks she’s done something wrong ‘cause you either avoid her or barely speak to her.” 

“I know, man,” Jensen groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Ever since you put it out there that we could be more than friends, I can't stop thinking about it. I don’t want to blurt it out at the wrong time, so I try to be careful about what I say, but I just end up tripping over myself.”

Jared clapped him on the back, “You just need to fake some of that Dean Winchester confidence.”

“Maybe.” 

“You better find a way to be around her ‘cause you’ve got a date with her tonight.”

“What?” 

“The silent auction,” Jared explained, “I paid for the date with her for you.”

“Jared, what? No!”

“I think Gen will have an issue if I show up for a date with her, and are you really going to leave her sitting on her own?”

“No, but Jared, I can’t,” Jensen panicked, “I’m going to make a fool of myself.” 

“You’re an actor. Just act normal.” Jared suggested before walking off.

Seeing you through the restaurant window, Jensen wanted to hug Jared so tight to thank him he’d crack a rib. But he also wanted to punch him so damn hard in the arm it’d be limp for a week. Why had he agreed to this? Okay, he hadn’t agreed. He’d totally freaked out, drank two beers, took three shots of whiskey, and then forced himself into the waiting car.

He was going to mess this up. He knew it. He was a fumbling, mumbling idiot around you, and dread settled firmly in his gut as he watched you scanning the menu. He regretted the whiskey and allowing Jared to talk him into this. 

He swore he was having an out-of-body experience as his feet took him closer to you. You glanced up when he got to the side of the table, and your face glowed with a smile. “Come to check in on me?” you asked, rising and pulling him into a hug. 

He held you a little tighter than he usually would, savoring the moment before releasing you and taking a seat. “Not exactly checking up on you,” he said, “this wasn’t my idea, but Jared brought you for me.” 

“What?”

“The silent auction, Jared was the highest bidder.” 

Confusion took over your features. “Why would he do that? I mean not that I’m not grateful, I’d much rather be here with you, but I don’t understand.” 

He realized it was now or never. “‘Cause he knows how I feel about you,” he admits, holding his breath for a reaction. 

“Care to elaborate?” you ask after a long silence.

“The truth is, I like you... a lot.” 

“I like you too.” 

“No,” he shook his head, “you don’t get it. I cherish our friendship and don’t want to lose it, but it's more than that. My feelings for you go beyond friendship, and I want to see if we could be more.” 

“I was so nervous,” Jensen chuckles. “I felt like I was auditioning for the rest of my life.” he contemplates it for a moment, “maybe I was.” 

“Well then, it’s good she reciprocated,” Karl laughs. 

“It took her a minute,” Jensen remembers, “but yeah, she came around.”

Your phone rings as you slot the key into your door’s lock. You’re juggling coffee, a pile of scripts to read, dry cleaning, and a bag of groceries. You have no hope of answering without dropping everything, so leave it to ring. You assume it’s Jared checking in on you after seeing the photos on TMZ. Jensen and Mae were pictured at a restaurant in Ontario. 

The phone stops as you enter the kitchen and set everything down on the countertop. 

Gen had already checked in to make sure you were okay, and you’d been anticipating a call from Jared to yet again invite you out to the set of Walker to meet one of the crew he was insistent you’d “hit it off with.” You’d politely declined, having already been on a date that had been pleasant and ended with a goodnight kiss, but you’d told the Padalecki’s it had left you feeling guilty as if you were cheating on Jensen. You needed time to let that feeling pass and allow the wound to heal completely.

You set about emptying the bags of groceries, and your phone rings again. You shuffle the contents of your bag, looking for the device, sure that it will cut off to voicemail before you find it. 

“Hello,” you answer, pressing it to your ear. 

“Hey.” 

Jensen’s voice freezes you to the floor, and you hold your breath. It’s been more than a month since you left him in his trailer, and you’ve only exchanged a few text messages. Why is he calling now? Does he want to be the one to confirm that he and Mae are together?

He says your name when your silence stretches. 

“Um, yeah. Hey, hi,” you say, clearing your throat to rid yourself of the shock.

“You sound out of breath,” he notes, “is this a bad time?” 

“No, no, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you explain, “caught me off guard.”

“Who were you expecting?” he asks, sounding accusatory.

“Jared,” you sneer, unable to stop the ire you feel.

“Sorry,” he says, and the apology tightens your jaw with the frustration it evokes. “I should have called sooner.”

“I haven’t called you either.” 

No one is to blame for the lack of communication. You both needed some space, so you were both right not to call. 

Neither of you speaks for a moment, and you debate whether to tell him you're busy so you can end the call and be done with the awkwardness. But he obviously put his awkwardness aside to call, so you might as well rip the stitches out and reopen the wound if that's what this is about. 

“Why are you calling now?”

“I need you to know that me and Mae aren’t together,” he says, firm and direct. 

You try to interrupt, “Jensen, it’s fine.” but he determinedly continues. 

“The picture they posted was cropped,” he explains. “The whole cast and some of the crew were there. The photo made it look like it was just the two of us, and that’s not the truth.”

“Even if it was, it’s okay.” It’s not okay, and from the moment you saw it, you’ve felt nauseous. Still, you assure him, “You’re free to do what you want. You don’t owe me an explanation.” 

He sighs, and you can hear the scowl in his tone, “It’s important to me that you know.”

You think it’s sweet that he’s taking the time to explain himself, even if it’s not what you expected. But Mae was never the problem. The situation she presented only shone a light into the crack that you had both been ignoring. Yet the information that Jensen has shared is a welcomed relief in the wake of the storm, but it’s just the eye. More questions are coming, questions that will likely only cause more hurt and confusion.

“Why?” you ask, “why do you want me to know?” 

“Because I wanted it to be you next to me…” he pauses. 

You're not sure if he wants you to say something or read between the lines, but you can’t let yourself trust the spark of hope that jabs your heart like a pinprick. 

“Even if we’re just friends,” he adds. 

That pinprick pierces the thin shell you’d managed to build, and it feels like a thousand jagged pieces of glass lacerate your heart, and you chew your top lip to stop the emotion from escaping in a sob.

There’s a loud bang on his end of the line, and someone calls out, “We’re ready on set, Mr. Ackles.” 

“I gotta go,” he says. 

“Okay,” you say, and immaturely add, “Bye, buddy,” before hanging up. 

The party has been a monumental success. You helped Gen, along with a professional party planner, to pull it off.

“So you really had no idea?” You ask Jared once everyone seems to have greeted him and wished him a very happy fortieth birthday. Technically it's not his birthday for another four hours, but the surprise party had needed that early element to make sure it went off without a hitch. 

“None,” Jared says, smiling. “I was fully prepared to fly home tomorrow to spend my birthday with Gen and the kids. I was looking forward to it, actually. I didn’t want a big fuss,” he chuckles, looking around the room, “but I’m glad you helped Gen make a fuss. It’s nice to see all the old faces.”

“Not all of them,” you note sourly, commenting on Jensen’s absence. “He wanted to be here, but you know how tight filming schedules can be.”

“I know,” he nods with a tight, sad smile. “It would have been good to see him. For me, at least.” 

“Don’t.” 

“It’s my birthday. I’m allowed,” he teases.

“It would have been nice to see him,” you agree before Jared can start in on the lecture. “I think. I don’t know. It’s weird and painful, and maybe I'm better off not seeing him until it’s not weird and painful.” 

He laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Sounds like you have it all under control.”

“Absolutely.” 

You mingle with old friends from Supernatural and new friends from the Walker set. The crew member, a camera operator named Vince, is as cute as Jared promised him to be, and you find yourself tucked in a corner talking with him as the night continues.

You hear the cheerful reunion before you see it. People applaud and shout greetings as Jensen crosses the room and embraces Jared in a tight hug. They hug for a long time, whispered words exchanged between brothers, and you see Jared’s eyes tear up. His night is complete now that Jensen is here. 

A few people greet Jensen with hugs and shakes of his hand, but his eyes never seem to focus on them. He distractedly looks around them and seems disappointed when he sees the next person waiting to greet him.

You mostly manage to keep your focus on Vince, but you can see Jensen in your peripheral. You don’t react, but you notice when he finds you. He stares for a long moment, maybe hoping you’ll feel his eyes on you and look at him, but you don’t, and he doesn’t approach.

You're doing nothing wrong, but an uneasiness sneaks up on you. It’s not that you feel like you're somehow betraying Jensen. It’s that you're betraying yourself by denying how you feel. It wouldn’t be fair to start anything with anyone new right now. They’d be a rebound. 

Vince seems to notice your focus has shifted and politely parts ways with you.

You spy Jensen across the room, catching up with Brianna, and head for the bar, needing something more potent than wine to make it through the rest of the night.

If possible, Jensen seems to have grown broader, arm muscles bulky beneath the material of his shirt, and you're definitely a fan of the Soldier Boy look. He looks good with a now-trimmed beard and long hair. The sight sends an ache of loneliness through your chest, remembering how it felt to be wrapped in those arms. 

A shot turns into two, and when the bartender steps away to refill your wine glass, you feel the air next to you shift. You don’t have to turn to see who it is, the cologne gives him away, and as it arrests your senses, he nudges his shoulder into yours. The familiar heat of his body makes your chest tighten. You so desperately want to turn and embrace him, but you know your fragile emotions would crumble under the weight. 

“Whiskey, neat,” he tells the bartender, his voice deep and gruff. He turns his body towards you, one arm resting on the bar, and you sip your drink, silently wishing it was hard liquor again instead of wine.

“Hey,” he says when you don’t look at him.

“Hi,” you respond blandly.

“How are you? You look good.”

“So do you. Really. You look incredible,” you say, without actually looking him in the eyes. 

“I hate having to do the diet and exercise thing, though,” he chuckles, “it was so much easier when all I had to do was wear flannel.”

You laugh, but it's bittersweet because everything was easier when he was wearing flannel. “How’s it all going? Stepping into the shoes of a new character?”

“Daunting, but fun.” Jensen talks, and you do all you can to listen and engage but can’t bring yourself to fully meet his eyes.  

He says your name so delicately it feels like a caress that sends a shiver through you. You close your eyes and know what he’s asking before he pleads, “Please look at me.”

His eyes have always been mesmerizing, and you know if you gaze into them, the spell will be cast, and there will be no escaping him, even when he’s miles away again. He waits for a beat, but your eyes remain firmly shut, and he closes the space between you, demanding attention. 

His exhale wafts through your hair. It’s too close because it's not close enough, and you feel the heartache rising in your chest.

“It was good to see you, Jensen,” you flash a smile in his general direction, picking up your glass.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing your wrist as you turn your back to him. “Don’t leave.”

You freeze in place and turn to look at his hand cuffing your wrist. Slowly you raise your gaze from his hold to his face, preparing yourself for the enchantment of his eyes, but his sad expression is downcast. His chest heaves with a deep breath before he finally looks at you, despondence turning to tentative hope.

“I know I should have said it back then, but I’m saying it now.” His voice is nearly a whisper beneath the muted conversation and ambient music, but it’s clear as a bell to your ears. “Please, don’t leave.”

You turn back to face him, and he takes two deep breaths before he finds the words.

“The last couple of months, I’ve been miserable without you.” He admits, “I’ve had to fight myself to eat, to work out, to do anything that didn’t involve staying in my trailer with a bottle of whiskey. I know that things are weird, but I realized my hesitance had nothing to do with the ending of Supernatural. Yes, I was scared. But I was scared of how easy it was with you, how much I cared for you, how quickly I realized that I am head over heels in love with you.”

You choke out his name as tears well in your eyes, and he steps forward to swipe the first droplet from your cheek.

“I was ready to tell you I’m in love with you, and you were booking flights home,” the heartache of the reminder dims the light behind his eyes, and he drops his gaze to battle whatever emotion he’s feeling. “That scared me more than anything. I didn’t want to say it in the heat of the moment or on the phone, and I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. It doesn’t matter if you don’t. I need you to know that I love you.”

You don’t have words, unexpectedly wishing you had a script so you don’t say something stupid. Then, just as surprisingly, you realize you don’t need words. You take a half step forward and kiss him. Jensen responds immediately, a hand caressing your cheek and drawing you closer as the other slips around your waist to tug you flush against him. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair, and he groans into your mouth. His kiss gets you drunker than any alcohol ever could, and after a moment that could have been a minute or an hour, you feel lightheaded. 

Jensen chases you as you pull back, placing swift kisses on your lips and pressing his head against yours.

“Damn, I’ve missed you,” you sigh.

“Well, don’t get used to it,” he says, “I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Tag List Info

Tagging Dean Winchester and Supernatural List. Sorry if you don't like RPF.

@alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

Master Lists: Dean Winchester // Main

[princessmisery666-library]

Please Don't Leave

Summary: Friends to lovers to friends, that can work, right? 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, fluff, Jensen in his thicc Soldier Boy era (that’s a warning in itself!)

W/C: 4.3k

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki. Small Parts/Mentioned: Karl Urban, Jack Quaid, Gen Padalecki.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

READ IT NOW: Tumblr // AO3

[thinkingaboutfilm11]

Fic Masterlist

Everything that I've written for F1 in one place <3 It goes without saying, but please don't share any of these beyond this platform. I've archive locked them for this reason and also for AI reasons. :)

1- (Do You Dream About Being Interlinked?) Interlinked

This fic is my Magnum Opus and the best thing I've written to date

Word Count: 45K

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ayrton Senna X Alain Prost

Summary: A retelling of the 1988 season, focusing on how Alain's and Ayrton's relationship spiraled into something neither of them could resist, or control.

Link: Here

2- To Leave or Not to Leave (Mclaren)

Word Count: 15K

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ayrton Senna X Alain Prost

Summary: Alpha Ayrton has been on the grid now for a decade, he has seven championships under his belt, the unwavering love of the entire grid, and whatever omega he wants.

So, why is he so obsessed with Mclaren's new hire beta rookie- Alain Prost?

Link: Here

3- 'And I know You Hate That'

Word Count: 7.5K

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ayrton Senna X Alain Prost

Summary: Alain wakes up hungover, ill and handcuffed to Ayrton Senna.

Not the best way to start his morning.

Or is it?

Link: Here

[chasm-side]

So the Jet Lag boys had a conversation about fanfiction on the podcast last week. I know some folks won't have Nebula subscriptions, so here's the funniest part.

Transcript below the cut:

Sam: Oh wow.

Scotty: Jesus.

Adam: That's worse, I would say--

Ben: No, it's not worse.

Adam: --than if it's erotic.

Ben: No, it's not worse. Cause I've read some stuff that you haven't read.

Adam: I haven't read any of it!

Scotty: My question is, how do you know that that's not erotic?

Adam: I don't want to read any of it! That's what I'm saying! None of us should read any of it. It's not--

Ben: I had my cousins read it for me.

Adam: That's the weird--you always say that--that's the weirdest thing you've ever said. You had your cousins read erotic fanfiction about you.

Ben: That's what cousins are for.

Adam (wailing): No it's not!!

Ben: You're not utilizing your cousins well enough.

Scotty (laughing): No, no...

Adam: Things have gotten so off the rails here at the end!

Scotty (dying of laughter): No, no, no, no...

Ben: And that's a wrap on season six.

[h-c-u]

I see forever in your eyes

Summary: Evolution of the relationship, ended with a bit of fluff in the end ;)

Pairing: Tom Cruise x fem!reader

W/C: 1.6k

Rating: PG | Age Gap

TWs: None

Dedication: This fic is dedicated to the lovely @malavera :) Something in a conversation with her gave the idea for the last few paragraphs, and the rest kind of materialised out of it's own free will.

A/N: I don't usually write RPFs, so it's a bit new for me, but I like the challenge :)

Masterlist | List of tags | Dandelions - Ruth B.

Being engaged to a movie star had its ups and downs.

Even though Tom did everything in his power to keep as much of your private life, well... private, he couldn't stop the press and paparazzi from trying to squeeze anything and everything they possibly could from the crumbs that he didn't manage to hide. And honestly... you didn't care. As long as you had him with you all the crazy theories and speculations didn't matter, and even more - few of them were actually funny. There was one that said that he literally bought you when he was visiting a 3rd world country... And another that said that you hypnotized him with your super-psychology powers, because how else you could have landed one of the most recognizable celebrities?

It didn't help that you were so much younger than him, which only fed them more... There were caricatures of him as a grandpa and you as a baby, sworn testimonies from people neither of you knew that he groomed you when you were still underage, and your personal favorite - a couple who pretended to be your parents, trying to convince the police and press that Tom kidnapped and brainwashed you, is abusing you and that they just want their little girl back home. As if you weren't almost 30. And you actually had to entertain the last idea for a bit, because even though there was no relationship between you and the crazy couple, you and Tom were still placed under observation for a week.

Sure, it wasn't the easiest, and you hated seeing Tom get angry at every ridiculous rumor. But one gentle touch from you was enough for all that negativity to disappear, and you loved watching him instantly relax just because you placed your hand on his shoulder. Or cupped his face. Or placed a soft kiss on the top of his head...

With time both of you learned that it was actually better for you to be in a public eye right next to him. The press couldn't say that he was abusing you if you were seen in a backless dress with slits up your thighs and there were no visible bruises. They couldn't accuse him of grooming you when you look nothing like the child they painted you to be. Sure, there still were wild theories, but not as aggressive as at the beginning, when there were only a few blurred pictures of you two together. And there were more and more articles talking about how much you loved each other with pictures of him looking at you with that relaxed expression, when you were holding hands, or when he was kissing your hand while someone managed to snatch a picture.

He wanted to take you with him to work, but that wasn't something that you wanted to do every day. Sure, you could fly with him whenever he was leaving the country and occasionally visit the set to meet his friends and co-stars, but you much rather focus on doing something else.

Since you had a Ph.D. in developmental psychology, you weren't exactly able to find a job in your field, and it was weighing on you, because you've spent so much time studying and doing research in a field you were deeply passionate about, only to have to choose between it and the man you loved. Because there was no chance that you would risk files of your patients being leaked to the press, which was a real possibility if you started working as a therapist while being engaged (and soon to be married) to one Mr. Tom Cruise. He would have never asked you to choose though, and it was a burden you were carrying alone because you didn't want to worry him.

But even if he didn't know exactly why he knew that something was wrong... So he helped you find something that you could do while he was on set, which was charity work. And of course, the press jumped on that with headlines like "Tom Cruise's latest fling gets HER way with HIS money". It didn't matter that you never touched his fortune... And instead of focusing on collecting money, you were finding local companies who were willing to donate their time or products to communities they were already close to. It was much easier than you first assumed because your name was linked with your fiancee's in every google search, and you were basically promoting those companies just by association.

And when you eventually started giving interviews to get ahead of any nasty rumors, there was a lot of venom from your interviewers. But because you basically had a degree from human behavior, it didn't take you long to understand what exactly most of them were after, and you were skilfully flipping the script in your favor, using their own words against them, to the point that few articles accused you of demanding the questions before the interview. You were happy to prove them wrong again and again. It was fun, dueling people who started with pure resentment towards you and ended up supporting your cause.

And as it turned out, you had a knack for it.

Eventually, the word about your agenda carried and you had to hire people to help you manage all the companies that wanted to join your cause, and only after four months you were running a full-blown non-profit, that matched companies willing to donate surplus of their products to people who needed it most. And it grew more and more every week to the point, when finally when you were out with Tom, you were asked about something other than who you were wearing, and what it was like being with such a famous actor.

And he was your number one cheerleader. Not only by praising you in every interview he did, but also by including you in the conversation, and encouraging you to talk about your latest projects. Logically you knew that you wouldn't be able to grow as much that quickly without his name associated with yours, even if he was purposefully staying away from the charity, not wanting to take the light that was shining brightly on you.

It took a while, but the venom slowly disappeared from the headlines, replaced by your latest pictures full of affection and speculation if you had already gotten married, and if not - was the date set up.

And now you were standing in front of the venue where there was another award afterparty, you were mostly alone in the area where you were supposed to wait for your turn in front of all the cameras, with only a few other people, who - if you were completely honest - you didn't recognize. You still had a few minutes without all the flashes and millions of questions. He was holding your hand in his, with your fingers intertwined, and just looked at you. In his eyes you were the most beautiful creature on this planet, nothing could even compare. You eventually gently put your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment of intimacy from all the reporters. You were careful not to transfer any makeup to his grey suit, even though you knew he didn't care.

With Tom so close, and a subtle scent of his cologne surrounding you, it was extremely easy to forget that showing up here tonight was more of an obligation than an actual date. And as if someone somewhere heard your thoughts, speakers started playing one of your favorite songs, Dandelions, which you started humming with a giant smile on your face. And as soon as Tom realized what was happening, he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and changed the way he was holding your hand, so he was able to twirl you, and you immediately followed his lead, because at this point no words were necessary to communicate. You came back to him with another twirl, and he was already waiting for you, ready to put his hand on your shoulder blade, and as soon as he did that, you put yours on his shoulder, and off you went.

It was extremely easy to slip into the steps of the waltz you were following so many times in the privacy of your home, far from any prying eyes. And it wasn't a complicated choreography, but with your flowy dress, every twirl, every turn, every switch looked magnificent. You let Tom lead, and you closed your eyes, imagining that you were far away from here, letting him steer you away from anyone who was waiting for their turn to go to the red carpet. 

Every move either of you made was meant to compliment the other person... He was your ornate frame, and you were the painting within it... And together you were a masterpiece. You opened your eyes again, just to catch him doing the same, and you couldn't stop the giant smile climbing onto your face. It was so easy to forget why you were here, with his beautiful green eyes so intensely focused on yours, because everything else faded when you were together, and you hoped that this would never change.

But eventually, someone loudly said his and your name, calling you to the red carpet, and one look from Tom told you exactly what he planned to do, and you couldn't help but laugh out loud, and let him lead you, still waltzing, to the red carpet, giving reporters a small glimpse into your real life. You were immediately attacked with a cacophony of screams and flashes, but none of that mattered. Right now there was only him and you, twirling your way to the center of the carpet. Because you were focused on only one point in space, you didn't even get dizzy when you finally stopped.

He let your waist go and placed a small kiss on your hand, and pulled you closer, so both of you could take your rehearsed, photograph-worthy poses, and come back to reality. 

P.S.: For the choreography I thought about something like this set of course to this song The tempo is really similar, so you can open both at the same time and mute the dance video while the song will play in the background :)

[namorslutfanfiction]

THE SHADOWBAN ON @namorslutfanfiction HAS FINALLY BEEN LIFTED

For those that haven't realized this or don't know

@theatreslave is the writer behind @namorslutfanfiction and this sideblog has been shadowbanned, blocked from messaging, and from appearing in tags for awhile now.

But today I got the response from tumblr that the blog was flagged as spam because of too many original posts on the same tags at once. So me being super prolific with my writing got me banned because they thought it was a bot.

But the blog is fully reinstated. I can now be tagged in posts under the @namorslutfanfiction handle, can receive messages on this blog, and I should appear in tags again.

I am so happy about this so please go check out my fanfiction blog if you haven't already!

Please remember to Reblog, Reply, and Follow!

You can also find my work on AO3 under NamorSlutfanfiction77 but all new writing gets posted on @namorslutfanfiction first!

Thank you to all my readers, mutuals, and followers who have continued to support my writing and blogs! I love you all!

I am going to find time on Sunday to make any edits on existing fanfiction, updating my masterlist, and finish the blurbs.

I'm going to be correcting the various languages used and any other errors to the best of my ability. I will also be changing all readers to "you" writing without use of 'y/n'. Most of my fics are female readers but it will be marked NB if its ambiguous enough. So if you see posts that say it's new but it's something you've read before, it's because I'm making edits.

So stick around and join me as I make my return to the mainstream!

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Draws a Scene from Our New Fic Cutely

SCREAMS. u can read it here if u want uwu /nf

[sarahowritesostucky]

An Oldie but a Goodie:

Reviewer: Stop writing RPF [real person fanfiction] you fucking psycho

Me: Is that ... a compliment?

(Note: I don't think it was meant as a compliment, but I sure as hell took it as one! 😂)

[spicywhenspeaking]

If I’m There Chapter: Twenty-Four

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Taglist: @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens@thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @concretenoah@thebadchic @madomens@samanthasgone @myownthoughts12@missduffsblog@jilliemiw86 @malerieee @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @badomenslrh @robabankfuckmickeymouse

(You're waiting for the)

Day to come when thеy will notice

(It is time to wake up now)

Fighting battlеs at your lowest

(Your fire is dying out)

Dragging every step forward

But it won't happen again

And I'm not gonna pretend

(I don't want the money)

(Want the money)

Noah sent Erin a CD with a playlist of their songs he hoped she would like. She has been blaring it loudly for days since she opened the package. She’s been listening to it nonstop and now sings along to the lyrics.

Can't say I'm mad, this is entertainment

But I want what they have and I'm gonna take it

And I'm so sorry if I'm cynical

My water's full of chemicals

I don't know what I'm made of anymore

“Sweetie! Lunch is ready!” I call out to her over the sound of the music as I place the plate I made for her, buttered noodles with grilled chicken with roasted broccoli and fresh fruit. 

Erin races down the stairs humming along to one of the songs she’s been listening to. 

“Yum! Thanks, Mom!” she says, plopping down to dig into her pasta. I sit alongside her and eat my plate. 

“So Noah said he will be back in less than a week, we will get a few days to hang out before you go to art camp,” I mention softly and she smiles brightly. “I’m excited to see him again, we should take him to the skating rink where Ashley had her birthday party, Oh! Oh! And we have to have a game night before I go to camp.” she exclaims excitedly. I laugh and nod, “Of course honey, we will have to ask him when he gets into town.” Her smile continues to grow as we talk and I am happy to see her so excited about spending more time with Noah. She talked to me after one of her last therapy sessions and the weight of guilt has lessened tremendously after our conversation. Her little heart is full of so much love. In the future, her feelings may change and she may have more questions or even anger and I am prepared to help her with those feelings when they arise. 

After lunch, I drop Erin off at Gwen’s apartment in her senior center to spend some time with her while I head to work for a few appointments I have set up. Gwen is freshly 75 and loving life in her new senior apartment complex and loves having Erin over to hang out. She welcomes us with big hugs and the smell of freshly baked cookies. “My girls, I’m so happy to see you both!” she greets us warmly. “Gweny! Omg, I have so much to talk to you about! Noah sent me some music and it’s awesome! I have to show you some.” Erin gushes to Gwen as she walks into the living room to set her backpack down. “Oh and I brought some paints so we can do some crafts, I wanted to paint the flowers you have on your balcony.” 

Gwen with her arm slung delicately around my shoulder laughs softly, “You made the sweetest girl in the world, I hope you know how much of that comes from you.”  I rest my head against hers and sigh contently. “Thank you, Gwen, I owe so much of her to you. You have helped so much when I moved and have been there for everything in her life. I’m so grateful for you.” I tell her as Erin runs around Gwens’ new apartment. “Well, I need to head out for my appointments. Hey, little one! I gotta go.” I call over to Erin and she runs to give me a quick hug before going back to explore the new space. I hug Gwen again and kiss her softly on the cheek. “I’ll be back later, maybe closer to 8:30. Thank you again, love you both!” I say to them as I walk out the front door and head back to the car. 

My appointments go by fast today, A few line work pieces and the first session of a large back piece. On my way out the door, I get a surprising phone call from Noah. 

Hey! Nat, how are you?

Hey Noah! I’m good, just finished up work for the day and I’m about to head to Gwen’s to pick up Erin. 

How was your day? Any fun ink?

Haha yes, I started on a sweet back piece that will take a few more sessions to finish.

That is awesome!

So I wanted to call and ask about something.

Oh? What’s up? Is everything okay?

yes, yes, everything is great! I just bought my ticket to Austin and wanted to see if you could grab me from the airport on Thursday?  

Oh! Of course, that’s no problem at all. 

Are you sure? I mean I could  figure out the car rental thing if that’s easier 

Oh hush Noah, it’s really not a big deal! We’d be happy to pick you up. 

Erin has been talking nonstop about you coming back to town. She’s making many plans to fit in plenty of activities before art camp next week.

Thank you Natty, I’m excited to see you both. My flight will land around 12 pm but our Airbnb won’t be ready until 4 pm. The other guys won’t be out until later next week. 

Sounds like a plan! We will scoop you up when you land and grab some lunch, Erin will be happy to hear the news.

Have a good night Natty, Lo- Bye! *click* 

“Hello? Noah? Umm okay, bye” I put my phone back in my bag, shake the weirdness off, and just get ready to head to pick up Erin and give her the exciting news. 

Gwen texted me what they decided on pizza for dinner, so I quickly run through the Dan’s Hamburgers drive-through to grab a big cheeseburger and curly fries.

Eating my dinner quickly on the road I switch on the radio and turn between channels until I find a familiar female voice. It takes me back to being a little kid in my parent’s car on a long car ride home.

“Hey there, It’s Delilah here with a collection of love songs to set your night off right. I know love comes and goes and I hope you find a love in your life that brings you the most joy and fills your heart with wonder.” 

Her soft voice drifts through my car and I settle into listening to the rest of her radio show until I get to Gwen’s. The love songs drift through the air…

So break my step

And relent

You forgave and I won't forget

Know what we've seen

And him with less

Now in some way

Shake the excess

'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you

“Okay, Delilah I get it! I’m figuring it out…just get off my back.” I grumble at the radio and switch it to the next station. 

I may not always love you

But long as there are stars above you

You never need to doubt it

I'll make you so sure about it

God only knows what I'd be without you

“Oh fuck off,” I say as I shut off the radio and complete the ride in silence. 

Erin races to the door when we get to the car, “I had so much fun with Gweny but I am sooo tired.” she slugs against the door, and when I click the unlock button she quickly climbs into the seat and reclines it back.

I laugh at her actions, shutting her eyes and curling into herself. “That’s what happens when you stay up all night listening to music silly girl.” I laugh and she groans, “I want to learn all of the lyrics so I can sing along when we go to one of Noah’s shows.” she grumbles sleepy. 

“Well they have a break coming up, so you’ll have plenty of time to learn the songs.” I tell her, “Actually, Noah called me after work. He’ll be here Thursday and asked if we could pick him up from the airport on Thursday.” She perks up immediately, springing up from her seat in excitement, “That sounds great! I’m so excited, omg what should we do? We have to show him the diner and oh oh we can take him to the water park! Or we can go rollerblading!” the sleepy child I saw minutes ago is gone and she’s awoken with a new spark.

“Okay baby, we will see what he has the energy for, remember he’s coming off of a long tour, he might just want to grab lunch and hang out at the house. But we will have lots of time to do all of the things you want to.” She’s still glowing with excitement on the drive home. My appointments tomorrow are later in the morning so when we get inside the house we sit in the living room and put on a movie. Erin decides to watch “Encanto”.  Haylie is in her room, probably working on her newest book but pokes her head out to say hi and double-check Erin is staying home tomorrow, with a nod of approval she slinks back into her room to finish writing, “Okay byee love youuu!” she calls as the door closes. 

Halfway through the movie I look over and see Erin has fallen asleep, I finish the movie wiping tears from my face. “Damn Disney movie,” I mumble. I gently move her upstairs and place her in her bed. 

When I am finished freshening up and laying my head down the last thing that goes through my head before sleep takes over. “Have a good night Natty, Love you! Bye.”

My dreams are visions of a future with Noah and Erin. We’re together laughing on the beach, building a sandcastle. I see myself pregnant with another baby, Noah’s eyes brighten up as he places a gentle hand on my stomach and kisses me. Sitting on the sand next to them my hands dig into the sand as the water washes up and the castle returns to the sea. The dream fades and twists into a new vision, Noah and I are arm and arm sitting on the couch watching a movie. The quiet domesticity makes my heart swell, the soft touches and gentle kisses. As his lips move down my neck a quiet gasp escapes me and my eyes shoot open as I vault myself up in bed breathlessly.

“Oh shit.” I say breathlessly, “Keep it together Nat.” 

By Thursday morning my nerves from my dream are taking over, I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach as we wait in the lot for Noah to get off his flight. 

Noah: hey! I’m at pick-up stop H! 

Natalie: Okay! We will be there in a sec! :)

Erin is vibrating with excitement from the backseat and as we turn the corner and see Noah standing with his bags smiling and waving. “There is he! Pull over! Pull over!” Erin yells from behind me. “Okay okay, I have to wait for this car to pass sweetie,” I tell her as a nervous blush creeps up my neck.

I pull up to the side and pop the trunk as Erin shoots out to the car and runs to jump up and wrap her little around Noah. “Noah! You’re back! I’m so excited! What do you what do you want to do? Are you hungry? Me and my Mom like this diner they have the best pancakes!” Erin’s voice rings out and I laugh as I throw the car quickly into park to greet Noah. 

“Hey, Erin! I missed you!” he says dropping his bags on the ground to wrap his arms around her and lift her into a big hug, “lunch sounds amazing.” He turns to me placing Erin back on her feet. She attempts to grab his large duffels off the ground as I round the front of the car and the butterflies flutter again as he brings me into a firm hug. “Hey Natty,” he whispers into my hair. “Hey, Noah,” I respond into his chest. Erin struggles with the bag lifting it into the trunk. “Oh, honey -” I start but Noah quickly rushes over to help throw his bags into the back. “Thanks, little one,” he says to her and ruffles her hair. 

Noah opens the back door and lets her climb back into the car while I move to the driver’s side as a parking guard starts to look like he’s heading closer. “We’re heading out!” Noah politely waves to the guard and gets into the passenger seat. 

Throwing the car back into drive I carefully pull out. “So lunch?” I ask and Noah and Erin agree in unison. “So Erin, your mom says you have a lot of plans? What is first on the list?”

“Do you know how to rollerblade?”

[filthyjoetini]

Stumblin' In

a/n: Here we are guys. The last part. Thanks for sticking around <3 feedback, reblogs and likes are as always very appreciated. beta-reader, editor, partner in crime: @barfightzanddiscolightz

warnings: rpf, fem!reader, could raise your blood sugar...

wordcount: 4k

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Part 4

“It looks so stu-hu-hupiiid.”, you groaned, stomping your feet and throwing your head back in frustration. You stood in front of your full-length mirror. One of your legs was only halfway inside your tights which had a run from you pulling too hard on them. Your lace corset-top, which was halfway tucked into your faux-leather skirt, hung loosely around your torso because you couldn’t find the laces. You were sure that one of your cats had stolen them and hidden them under your bed, where you couldn’t reach them without crawling under it. But the worst thing of all was the fact that your flat iron decided to die on you mid-way through styling your hair. Luckily, you had already finished your make-up, which turned out to be perfect.

After unplugging the broken styling tool, you took it to your bathroom and placed it in the sink to cool off. Looking down at it with a sneer, you quickly grabbed your hairdryer and curling brush. Returning to your bedroom, you plopped down on your bed and took a few of deep breaths to ground yourself. You needed to calm down. Why were you so nervous? You knew when and where you needed to be. It was a cute little café that also served a variety of sandwiches and other finger foods. You had already checked the menu online and knew exactly what you were going to get.

And you’d read the book twice. For your book club, of course, and not at all to impress him. No need to, right?

With one last big breath through your nose, you stood up and took off your damaged tights. You threw them on your bed, telling yourself you would throw them away later. Later meaning ‘three weeks from now’ later. Pushing yourself up from your bed, you walked over to your commode and picked your second-best pair of tights out of your drawer.

“Yeah...you’ll do.”, you sighed and pulled them on gently. They didn’t really go with the rest of the outfit, but you didn’t have time to go out and get a new pair that would suit your style better. The next step was to find the laces for your top. You got down on all fours and crawled halfway under your bed, where most of the cat toys had found their final resting place. After rummaging through the pile of toy mice, hair and zip ties, you finally found a huge ball of laces. You pulled it out from under the bed and immediately spotted the silk fabric of the strings.

“Fucking cats.”, you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. Carefully, you began to untangle the ball of laces and gently pulled out the one you needed before skilfully threading it through the corset’s grommets, tightening them and finally tying them on your back.

Two tasks down, one more to go.

You plugged your hairdryer into the outlet, turned it on, grabbed your curling brush with your other hand and started straightening the second half of your hair. The brush left a little curve at the ends, making one half of your head look like a 70s actress, whilst the other half screamed late-00’s emo kid. Groaning, you got to work on the emo side again to even it out a bit. You weren’t fully satisfied with the result, but at least it looked somewhat presentable now.

After staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long and almost spacing out, you decided to pick up your mobile phone from where it was lying on the bed. You gasped when you saw the time. You were running royally late.

Panicking, you grabbed your purse and your trusty leather jacket and sprinted for the door. There you slipped into your Dr. Martens and tied them up properly. Another trip to the hospital wasn’t in your books.

As you opened the door, you yelled back at your cats to behave before hastily locking the door and speed walking down the corridor and stairs.

---

Heaving and panting, you entered the café. You prayed that Joe wasn’t there yet, but unfortunately, you spotted him already sitting down in a cosy armchair, dressed in his overly expensive trench coat, phone in hand.

You collected yourself and stepped into the room, slowly making your way over to him.

“Hey,”, you greeted him, clearing your throat.

Joe turned around quickly when he heard you, beaming grin on his face. He immediately stood up and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

When he pulled back, he was holding you at an arm’s length, eyes narrowed, lips between his teeth. He studied your face. Then his eyes darted down your body, a smirk forming on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, snorting at his expression.

“Yeah, I know. For once I don’t look like a hag. All put together, like a normal human being.”

“You never look like a hag,”, he scoffed at your self-degrading remark, “and you always look put together. With or without make-up. I like it though. Suits you very well.”

He said the last part with a wink that made you blush instantly.

Quickly, you took the remaining couple of steps to the second armchair and sat down. Joe though, didn’t move an inch, instead opening his mouth again.

“Do you know what you want? There’s a menu on the table.”

“Oh. Can you get me a cappuccino with the Toblerone sprinkles and one of those egg and cress sandwiches? They look delicious.”, you blurted out without looking at him or the menu at all, shrugging off your leather jacket.

When Joe still didn’t move, you looked up at him and saw him grinning down at you.

“What?”, you asked, innocently.

“Nothing.”, he smirked and then walked off to place your orders at the counter.

---

Joe placed your sandwich and hot beverages neatly in front of you on the very tiny table and his in the same orderly fashion on his side before sitting down.

“How was your wor-”

“How’s your nec-”

Joe and you both started to speak at the same time and stopped abruptly again when you noticed. It made you both giggle.

“Sorry, you first,”, you urged, gesturing for him to start talking again.

“How is your neck?”, he asked, the giggle still evident in his voice.

“I had a check-up two days ago and the doctor said I’ll be just fine, although there is no cure for my clumsiness.”, you giggled and shrugged your shoulders.

“Good. Because otherwise I’ll have to find a new nickname for you, and I’ve grown quite fond of Bambi.”, he explained, a gentle smile now sporting his lips.

“Shut up…”, you muttered bashfully before composing yourself and taking a huge gulp of your cappuccino and a bite of your sandwich. “How was your foreign mission? Any more planned?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. And yes, always.”, he replied nonchalantly, as he leaned towards you. He had his elbow propped on his knee and slowly rested his chin on the heel of his palm, smirking smugly at you.

Two can play this game, you told yourself, mirroring him.

“And what is it you do? Mr. Over-Secretive?”, you inquired further, returning his smug expression.

“I’m an actor.”, he responded quickly, leaning back casually into the backrest of his armchair, hands placed flat on his knees.

“Oh.”, you replied, somewhat taken aback. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything before.”

“Ouch.”

“No…I didn’t mean it like that.”, you apologised immediately, leaning further forward and grabbing his hand without thinking. All Joe could do was smile down at your hand.

“It’s alright. I’ve been in a lot of period productions, and I know they are not for everyone.”, he replied, adjusting his hand in yours by lacing your fingers together.

“Yeah, they are not my cup of tea.”, you nodded, staring at your intertwined fingers before moving your eyes up to his face. “Have you been in anything else?”

“Yep.”, he replied, popping the p. “I was in the latest season of Stranger Things.”

“Wha-?”, you started, mouth agape now and eyes wide. “That’s one of my favourite TV shows. Who did you play?”

“Eddie Mun-“

“GET OUT OF HERE!”, you almost shrieked, pulling your hand away from his and clapping it over your mouth. An elderly couple two tables over glared daggers at your outburst. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to shout.”, you spoke through your fingers, muffled.

All Joe could do was laugh at your reaction. You were so bloody adorable. Especially when you started blushing as soon as you did something out of character.

“Eddie is my favourite character this season.”, you confessed, almost whispering.

“Yeah?”, he asked, giggling.

“Yeah.”, you confirmed sheepishly.

“Anyway.”, Joe continued, trying to divert the attention to something else. Something else was obviously you. “What do you do for a living?”

“It’s really not that interesting.”, you explained with a shrug. “It’s your usual boring desk job.”

“I bet it’s not as boring as you make it out to be.”, Joe spoke, an encouraging smile on his lips.

“It really is.”, you concluded with tight lips, leaving no more room for an argument. “In contrast to my job, yours is very multifaceted.”

Nodding, Joe didn’t inquire further, sensing your discomfort with the subject. You let out a shaky breath and then put on a smile again. You didn’t want to dampen the mood. Joe returned your smile and leaned forward to take your hand in his again. It was very warm whilst yours had become clammy.

"So…what do you do for fun then?”

“Well, I really, really enjoy going to the cinema to see obscure films and I love to read a book every now and then.”, you stated with a chuckled. “Oh, and I love music. I love, looove love going to concerts.”

Joe couldn’t take his eyes off you as you rambled on about your passions and favourite past times. You animatedly recounted the story of the last concert you went to, and Joe basically hung on your every word.

“What do you like to do for fun?”

“Hmm...”, Joe pretended to think, putting his free hand under his chin, which made you giggle again. “I love going to the cinema, especially to study the work of other actors as well as the directors. I also like to write scripts. They’re usually silly little stories. And I love to read. Speaking of reading. I just finished the book this morning.”

“Did you? How did you like it?”

“Considering I literally devoured it between shoots, I’d say pretty good.”, he said with a chuckle, letting go of your hand to reposition himself in his armchair.

“Well, I was hoping so.”, you giggled, pulling your hand back and you crossing your legs. “Otherwise, I’d have to disband our book club.”

“Bambi, book clubs are for discussing different opinions about a book.” Joe retorted. “Disbanding it prematurely would defeat its purpose.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh uh!”

“Ugh. You’re even more annoying than my cats.”, you groaned, knowing he could go on like this forever.

“You have cats?”, he asked, his eyes widening with interest. His whole body moved forward again.

“Yep. Two little bastards.”, you replied with a chuckle. You took your phone from beside you and showed him a picture of your two fur babies. “Do you want to meet them?”

“Yes. Duh!”, he responded, immediately getting up from his armchair and pulling on his coat.

“Uhm, Joe. You still have some coffee and food left.”, you pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Joe looked down at the table and quickly downed his now cold coffee and stuffed the rest of the food into his mouth.

“Okay. Let’s go.”, he spoke again after he had swallowed everything. You were still sipping the last of your drink and wrapping your sandwich in a serviette when Joe was already halfway out of the café.

“Hey. Wait up.”

“Hurry up! I’ve got cats to meet.”

“Idiot.”, you muttered under your breath, shaking your head, grinning and following him out.

---

“Joe, you really don’t have to do this.”

You slowly climbed the stairs up to your flat, Joe beside you, hovering like a mother hen. An arm was draped around your waist. A safety precaution.

“I won’t fall down again.”

“Says you!”, he objected, jabbing a finger into your side almost causing you to lose your balance nearly missing the next step. You cursed under your breath. Why do you have to be so ticklish?

“See? You almost fell again!”, Joe pointed out the obvious, grinning like a madman. That dick knew exactly what he was doing. You responded by giving him a light shove.

“Of course I’m gonna fall if you poke me in the side, Joseph. I’m ticklish.”, you huffed, feigning annoyance.

“Good to know.”, he countered with a wink.

Rolling your eyes, you wiggled out of his grasp and took the last few steps up the stairs to the door of your flat. Joe was hot on your heels, not wanting to be left behind.

“Uhm. Just so you know. My cats are very skittish and don’t really like strangers. Please don’t be offended if they don’t come to you straight away. They’re drama queens.”, you explained before inserting the key in the lock and slowly unlocking the door.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be.”, Joe smiled at you. He leaned his arm against the wall for support as he unzipped his boots to take them off. His tongue was sticking out in concentration. It made you snort a little, because you found it very endearing.

Gently, you pushed open the door and your cats immediately greeted you. As soon as they noticed someone else was standing there, they took off. Probably hiding under your bed.

“Told you.”, you said matter-of-factly before stepping aside to let Joe in. “The living room is this way.”, you pointed in its direction, “make yourself comfortable…uhm…do you want something to drink? What do you want?”

“What do you have to offer?”, Joe asked sweetly, not yet moving.

“I have water, both still and sparkling, tea…I should have beer…”, you listed, making your way over to the kitchen to check, leaving Joe standing in your narrow hallway.

“If you’ve got beer, I’ll have one.”, Joe called, following you.

“Shit. I’m out!”, you winced lowly after rummaging through your fridge. “I do have a liquor shelf though – holy FUCK. You scared me!”

Joe was standing right behind you as you turned away from the fridge. You hand’t expected him to follow you.

“I thought you’d gone into the living room.”, you explained frowning, hand covering your chest. Your heart was racing at a thousand miles a minute.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Bambi.”, he apologised, mirroring your frown. He gently took your free hand in his and rubbed it softly to emphasise how bad he felt for scaring you.

“Alright...it’s alright.”, you murmured, slowly smiling at him and giving his hand a quick squeeze before taking yours from his grasp. “Would you like a drink instead of a beer?”

“Sure…uhm…a gin and tonic, maybe?”

“Gin and tonic coming right up.”, you announced, turning to your liquor shelf. “Go sit in the living room. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Alright.”, Joe chuckled and wandered off.

---

As you entered the living room, two gin and tonics in hand, you saw Joe coaxing Kiro over from the other side of the sofa. Your black panther of a cat was the braver of the two but totally unimpressed by Joe. The man in question clicked his tongue and stuck his pointer finger out at him.

With a low chuckle, you set the two drinks down on your coffee table and sat down in between them. Your addition to the scene awakened Kiro’s interest and he now ambled over to you and plopped himself down on your thighs.

Joe, who was now sporting a huge grin, slowly scooted closer to you and held his still outstretched forefinger directly under Kiro’s nose. The cat sniffed it and eventually gave it a lick. Joe had been approved.

Giggling, Joe moved his hand to the top of Kiro’s head and scratched it softly before pulling his hand away and grabbing his drink from the table instead. You had watched the whole interaction with a soft smile gracing your lips.

“Would you like to watch something on Netflix?”, you inquired, leaning forward carefully so as to not crush your cat, and grabbing both your drink and the remote.

“Sure. Anything obscure on there you haven’t seen?”, he asked, taking the first sip of his long drink and nodding in approval.

“Not really. I’m kind of in a mood for some nostalgic rom coms.”, you giggled as you launched the app. “I’m talking early 2000’s, baby.”

“Oookay. Whatever floats your boat.”, Joe chuckled and put his drink down again.

You chose the corniest one the streaming service had to offer, but before you hit play, you asked Joe to hand you the blankets that were draped over the settee’s armrest. Before you could drape one over yourself, Kiro jumped off your legs and sat down beside you.

“Do you want the other one?”, you asked Joe, holding it out to him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

You nodded at him as he gently pulled his blanket over his own legs.

Just as you were about to press play, Freya decided to show herself by sauntering lazily into the living room. When Joe saw her, he let out a small audible gasp. She decided to jump on the sofa, right between you and Joe. He immediately held out his hand to her as well. She sniffed it and then turned her behind to him. She opted for your legs instead.

Joe’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and you smiled at him apologetically. He just grinned and waved you off.

“She’ll get around to you…eventually.”, you promised and finally pressed play.

Less than twenty minutes into the film, Freya had had enough of your legs and moved over to Joe. There she scratched gently at the blanket. Joe looked at you with questioning eyes.

“She wants to go into the blanket cave.”, you explained. “Is that OK for you? If not, I can make one with my blanket.”

“Is that OK? Of course it’s OK!.”, Joe confirmed, face beaming and you leaned over to help him make it. Snug as a bug in a rug she now lay against Joe’s thigh, fully covered by his blanket. One of Joe’s hands was underneath the blanket as well, gently stroking her fur.

Surrounded by the warmth of two cats and a man, you grew more tired by the minute. It wasn’t even that late, only a quarter to five but your brain still hadn’t fully recovered yet and the circumstances you found yourself in didn’t really benefit your condition. You tried very hard to stay awake, but your eyes grew heavy, and your head was inching closer and closer to Joe’s shoulder, eventually landing on it.

Joe looked down at your sleeping form, moving as little as possible to make you more comfortable and not to disturb the cats. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you a little closer, so that your head rested just below his collarbone. Unconsciously, you snuggled closer to him and let out a soft sigh. Joe grinned and continued to watch the film which he hadn’t followed at all.

He let you sleep like that even after the film had ended. You were snoring softly, and he found it to be very soothing whilst he tried to solve his sudoku on his phone. 45 minutes after the credits had finished rolling, he received a text message from his manager saying he had to get up early the next day due to a spontaneous work commitment all the way up in Scotland.

Groaning at the text, he pushed himself up a little, much to Freya’s dismay who now crawled out of her cave and glared at Joe.

“I’m sorry, girl. I didn’t mean to.”, he apologised, scratching her ear. Then he gently placed the palm of his hand on your cheek.

“Bambi…wake up.”

“No…five more minutes.”, you whined and tried to swat his hand away, making Joe snort out a laugh.

“Unfortunately, I have to go. I just got a text saying that I have to get up early. I’m needed in Scotland.”, he explained, rubbing his thumb along your jaw.

You slowly opened your eyes and mumbled something about another secret mission.

“That’s right…now come on.”

He moved his hands to your arms and slowly helped you up which irritated the two fur balls even more. Kiro toddled over the sofa cushion next to Freya and lay down again with a grunt.

“You just lost at least four brownie points in their book for that rude awakening.”, you muttered with a yawn and stretching your arms over your head.

“In yours or theirs?”

“Hmm.”, was all you replied, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ll make it up to them.”, he grinned, gently petting them to say his goodbye. A little more awake than before, you smiled at him and made your way to the hallway to see him out.

After Joe had put on his coat and boots, he slowly turned to you.

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, Bambi.”

“Likewise.”, you retorted having grown rather fond of his silly nickname for you. Slowly, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Gently, he returned the embrace, and swayed you in his arms for a couple of moments.

Pulling back a little, you stared into his deep caramel eyes, a soft smile tickling at the corners of your lips. Smiling himself, he stared back down at you, lowering his face until you were nose to nose. Joe then gently tilted his head, brushed his nose against yours, causing you turn up your nose a slightly. Your reaction made Joe grin even wider, and you took the opportunity to close the distance, pressing your lips tenderly against his.

He immediately reciprocated the kiss and sweetly pecked your lips a few of times which made you open your mouth just a little. Taking this as an invitation to go further, Joe gently nibbled at your lips and finally captured them passionately with his.

Breathing heavily, you both reluctantly pulled away, resting your foreheads against each other. You took one hand from around his shoulders and ran your fingers delicately along your bottom lip. Both his and your cheeks were slightly rose-tinted, and Joe’s ears were glowing red. He quickly placed another soft peck to your fingertips and gingerly let go of you.

“I’ve got a train to catch.”, he whispered, and you nodded, reaching behind him to unlock the door. He took a step back into the stairwell and turned back around to where you were standing in the doorway, the blush still evident on your face. Joe took a step back towards you and gave you one final peck to your lips.

“Let’s do this again, Bambi.”, he winked, making you giggle again.

“Get home safe.”

“I will.”

“Text me?”, you inquired, crossing your arms around your middle.

“Of course.”, he promised as he descended the stairs. You watched him disappear before you opened your mouth again.

“Bye!”, you called after him.

“Bye, Bambi!”, he called back, and you eventually heard the front door slam shut far too loudly. This was in no way Joe’s fault but the doors itself. The mechanism was broken.

Turning around, you quickly closed the door and ran into your living room to look out the window. You caught him just in time to see him disappear around the corner. Smiling to yourself, you touched your lips again. Your smile turned into a snort and finally into a full laugh.

Oh, you so were gonna do this again.

The End

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[goldenphoenix4]

we’re going to hell

[gaunt-and-hungry]

Crimes have been committed and commemorated. Both Virgil Works have been added to my Ao3. Do I get banished to an island yet?

Spit Slick Oil Slicked

and

Rip It Out Of Me

[chipsandnuggets]

Itadakimasu

Itadakimasu expresses reverence for the life of the food ingredients and gratitude to the people involved in cooking the meal. Yuki means every bit of that, since to him, food is about more than simply fuel; it's also about comfort, family, and happy memories.

This fic is part of the Yuki Fest 2023

[stargiirl27]

just wrote 3k words worth of smut on my sideblog @theverystrangegirl27 for keanu and alex go check it out or don't I'm not your mom