#and if there's anything left jared will take care of it on thursday

[canonicallysoulmates]

If Jensen isn't the death of me on Monday, Loki will be the death of me on Wednesday

#and if there's anything left jared will take care of it on thursday #mine #random thing is random #non spn

[remythologise]

I don't have twitter and I'm seeing posts but a lot of them involve knowing what I'm looking at...can you pls explain the latest spn/Jensen news, pretty please?

Sure! Explanation of the events of the past week (some of these dates might be relative to my timezone, apologies for any errors):

JUNE 24: News breaks that Jensen Ackles and Danneel Ackles’ production company has a prequel in the works focusing on John and Mary Winchester; entire fandom displeased

Fandom ire at the prequel focusing on John and Mary momentarily overshadows the fact that it seems like Jensen Ackles has the rights to Supernatural (!!!) and has ‘five shows in the works’ of which this is only the first

Showrunner is Destiel fan-favourite Robbie Thompson, responsible for such Absolute Banger Episodes as ‘Meta Fiction’ (see more here)

A lot of blowback from absolutely all sides of the fandom - BiBros et al mad that it focuses on Not The Brothers, Destiel fans mad it focuses on Not Resolving Destiel, everyone largely mad it focuses on John Winchester (widely regarded as abusive) and the ‘epic love story’ of John/Mary (canonically forced by cupid magic)

Various cast members including Misha Collins, Jim Beaver, Jake Abel, Ruth Connell and Julie McNiven reply to the article with comments indicating they’d like to be involved

Eric Kripke tweets that Jensen and Danneel are ‘the perfect people’ to take control of this story and Jared is ‘too busy Texas Rangering’ to be involved

JUNE 25: Jared Padalecki tweets about being left out of the loop on the prequel; absolute chaos ensues

See this ask reply for a list of tweets, events and reactions

I’ll also add that this gets large enough to get coverage on Vulture, Variety and other news sources

Robbie Thompson retweets his tweet from 2019 saying ‘I ❤️ you #SPNFamily’ in response to… everything

JUNE 26: A scramble for Jensen, Jared and Eric Kripke to do PR damage control on the Jared issue. Meanwhile, Misha Collins does his best impression of this scene from the Lion King to promote GISH

Eric later deletes all tweets about the issue, which is VERY funny. Man can’t handle the heat!

Very funny contrast between Jared’s ‘have a talk, as we often do’ and Jensen’s ‘miss these talks'

Jensen later changes his twitter header and bio from Supernatural/Dean Winchester to The Boys/Soldier Boys which IS somewhat unfortunate and perhaps deliberate break-up related timing

Jared tweets that he ‘doesn’t want anyone to receive hate or threats’ which is like… Jared YOU started this, YOU tweeted this to your millions of followers

JUNE 26: Jensen Ackles does further damage control by tweeting ‘Canon? we got you’ and linking to this article about what the show might hold, which points out the Problems of John Winchester

See article for further details but this implies Jensen actually does care a lot about doing right by the fans and the narrative canon

This, combined with the fact Robbie Thompson is running it, convinces most Destiel-side fans that the show Might Be Better Than Expected and one CW-approved stepping stone to greater things

BiBros are furious because article is written by ‘known Heller’ Natalie Fisher, who is friends with writers such as Meredith Glynn and Robert Berens

Meanwhile, Steve Yockey references the ‘Steve Yockey is dead?!?’ tumblr meme on twitter in a reply to Ruth Connell

JUNE 27: Gen Padalecki posts an instagram story which may or may not be shady commentary on Jensen Ackles

However, yesterday Danneel Ackles also promotes the Padalecki MLM product on HER instagram - can I just say I simply love the use of a) product promotion and b) instagram stories as tools of warfare and diplomacy

JUNE 28: Various scripts drop thanks to the team at tumblr’s spnscripthunt (go support and fund their efforts if you can!)

Notable changed content includes Castiel telling Dean to ‘parent’ Jack in 14.16 and Castiel texting emojis to Claire in 12.16 (possibly an in-script joke about Dean being attracted to a poodle?)

JUNE 29: News breaks that Chaos Machine Productions was started as ‘Free Will Entertainment LLC’

The name was apparently changed in October 2020 - was that as a result of the 15.19-15.20 filming? Or something else?

The idea that Jensen set up a company called ‘Free Will Entertainment’ to continue telling the story of Supernatural is honestly BONKERS. A lot to unpack here to do with the textual and metatextual narrative of Supernatural that I don’t have time to get into, since there’s about twenty wild implications that could be speculated from that name alone

Stock price on ‘Jackles’ Sexy Silence’, conspiracy that Jensen didn’t like the ending of Supernatural and was quietly plotting to take the narrative under his own control, to bring Dean back to life and possibly to canonise Destiel, reaches historic high

The fact does not go unnoticed that, through coincidence or not, Jensen and Danneel registered the company on a Thursday very close to September 18, the Lazarus Rising/Castiel Anniversary Date when Dean was saved from Hell

JUNE 30: Misha Collins makes a social media post with Castiel art for the last day of Pride Month

Twitter post liked by Robbie Thompson

On his instagram, Misha also puts music on the story of ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love With You’ a song made famous by Elvis and then subsequently Destiel AU Fanfic Twist and Shout

“The song was initially written from the perspective of a woman as “Can’t Help Falling in Love with Him”, which explains the first and third line ending on “in” and “sin” rather than words rhyming with “you” - Wikipedia knowledge obtained via @jurisffiction

Falling… sin… But we don’t have time to unpack all of that-

JUNE 30: 8.17 Goodbye Stranger script excerpt surfaces with Dean’s ‘I love you’ to Castiel

Fandom has long known that the ‘I need you’ was formerly an ‘I love you’ because Jensen believed Dean saying it in that moment to Castiel was out of character - but we did not have the script to prove specific changes

Additional ‘I forgive you’ not included in the episode - the original scene reads as very romantic, since this was Dean absolving Castiel for past crimes and telling him he loves him in the moments before death, as well as ‘I love you’ of course being what ‘broke the connection’ of Naomi’s control

Notably this episode written by Robbie Thompson, the very man Jensen and Danneel chose to helm their next project

JUNE 30: Misha Collins misses his blanky text

To cap all this off, Misha Collins texts fans a selfie of himself at ‘the spare room at Jensen’s apt in Vancouver’, saying he ‘misses his blanky’, implying he has spent many nights there

It has been an open secret that Misha basically shared Jensen’s apartment in Vancouver since around 2018 due to [redacted dubiously obtained information] but it’s never been publicly stated (to be clear, this does not imply anything other than friendship, as actors in Vancouver often share accommodation and Misha had previously couch-surfed at Jared and Jensen’s places)

Cockles shippers go wild. Does the ‘blanky’ refer to Jensen? Was there a reason to send this on the last day of pride month? Will this man ever shut up?

Hope that helps! May this wild carousel of News About A Show That Ended Eight Months Ago never end!

#ask #anonymous #kira for ts #supernatural spoilers #spn spoilers #long post for ts #there ARE people out there who blacklist that tag… this one’s for you #making a text post like. well now what do I say in tags. #god this took me a long time anon I hope you appreciate the hours I spent on this sourcing lskdflskjdfdfsdf #this post was scheduled for 3am no idea why it posted at 10:15 pm thank you to Broken Website #UPDATE SORRY FOR INCORRECT LINK ON THAT ASK THING CHRIST #again broken website I was meant to check links BEFORE it posted

[everlesslahote1]

“Hey! look at me, I’m fine!” (Paul Lahote)

-HI, I BEG YOU GUYS TO REQUEST SOMETHING , ANYTHING PLEASE. I don’t have any ideas other then re-doing ones I already saw but I wanna be more bonded with my readers so, Thank You Lovely’s.

Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

(warning; forced contact, aggressive touching)

ALSO! everyone as imprints okay and I mean everyone in the pack.

-Enjoy!

-

-

-

If you would have told Y/N 11 months ago that she would be a imprint of the most vicious tempered wolf in the Uley “gang” everyone tend to talk up at school, she would have called a doctor asap.

But no... Here she was. 

At a bonfire with the pack she now calls family and her hot headed lover on a Thursday night eating a hot dog and cracking jokes with Jared Cameron and Embry call, wrapped in Paul’s warmth.

“no seriously! Embry finally imprinted on someone!” Quil said patting his pack brother’s back and making Embry cheeks go pink.

“yea so now everyone has a imprint... even if they aren’t of age *cough* Jake, Quil” Jared choked out soon earning a rupture of laughter from around the fire.

It was all true though, every wolf in the Uley pack had imprints of their own.

Sam had Emily.

Paul had Y/N.

Jared had Kim.

Embry had a sweet girl by the name of  Ameila that he met at the book store.

Jacob had Renesmee.

Quil had Claire.

Leah had a girl she met on a walk by herself by the name Emma.

Last but not least Seth had a girl from his Math class named Ava.

“ha ha very funny” Quil said with a straight face just as his 4 year old imprint (Claire Young)  ran and jumped in his lap showing him a picture she just drew of him.

“Jared please remember I am stronger then” Jake spoke.

“oh yeah” Jared challenged slipping away from his imprint (Kim) gently hitting the back of Jake’s head.

Jake and Jared soon started horse playing in the grass as the other’s betted on who would pin who first.

“hey, imma go get a drink” Y/N whispered to Paul making him nod and place a soft kisses on her lips.

She stood up with pink cheeks, jumping over Jake and Jared and walked over the side of the house where all the drinks were.

She really didn’t know if she wanted juice that Billy supplied for the kids that were here or if she wanted to finally try a beer.

She tends to say she’s a big girl and that she can handle at least one beer, I mean how hard could it be? ‘Jared handles it’ and that’s the only reason she could come up with that she could handle it, so there she stood. 

“in a giffy?” a deep voice said from the side of  her, it didn’t feel right even hearing it so close to her but she didn’t wanna be rude. So she looked up to the tall raven hair man before looking back down at the drinks then speaking.

“uh heh, yea. does beer taste good?” She asked him.

“well how about we slip away and ill tell you all about it, hun” he said grabbing her forearm a little roughly.

Her breath was caught in her throat, Paul was never rough with her only if she asked him to be and even then he didn’t get as rough as this man.

Paul always made sure she was comfortable with anything he did around her because he knew how he could get if he wasn’t thinking 

“N-no thank you, please let me go” she grabbed his hand trying to remove it kindly but it only made him grip her tighter , she fought to get his large tan hand off her arm to avoid having a bruise so Paul wouldn’t see.

She hoped and prayed that the man would back down because if her wolf was to see the physical way the man was handling her ,he would be beyond pissed.

“Oh come on princess, lighten up a little” he said pulling her closer to him making her bump into his hard chest, it was then she smelt the strong smell of the alcohol on his breath.

She was scared, even if she didn’t show it. The man was two times her size almost as big as Jacob and was firm, not buff just firm.

“Let me go!” she said with a little more volume ad force only to be quickly pulled away from the intoxicated being and for the man to be almost mercilessly thrown to the ground by a buff figure.

A figure she hoped she wouldn’t see in this situation she was dealing with.

A figure she knew all to well.

It was Paul. 

Now beating this guy senseless like he had stole something and even though she didn’t agree with the man’s actions , she most certainly wasn’t pleased with her lovers actions either.

She’d been working with Paul’s control on his anger and even the pack could see the big change in Paul’s attitude, which they couldn’t lie kind of left everyone shook.

But when he saw this sick excuse of a man grab HIS Y/N so roughly after she asked him to let go, it caused him to back track and it set something off in the pit of him.

The trio was now being watched by everyone. It took Sam, Embry, Jared, Quil and Jake to get Paul off of the man before he killed him with his bare hands.

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM” Paul yelled as Leah and Seth now dragged the bloody man to the street and left him for dead, they weren’t that type of people but hearing Paul’s thought on what he saw the man do to Y/N they didn’t care what happened to the man.

“Paul! Calm down now!” Sam said trying to calm to the younger boy but it’s like his inner wolf couldn’t he wanted to he just... couldn’t.

After almost breaking free Paul still couldn’t take a steady breath so Y/N took her stand in front of the yelling boy.

Grabbing his face , bringing it down to her small figure with both of her hands on each side of his face.

“Hey! look at me, I’m fine!” she said softly.

He looked into her eyes seeing the sparkle that was always there not dimmed not even a little bit making his breathing calm down.

Paul soon tried to get out of the packs grip to hold Y/N but they only gripped tighter in fear of him hurt their pack sister, like Sam did Emily.

Y/n looked sat Sam with a soft smile.

She knew how her lover could get when he was pushed the wrong way but she knew for a fact she was going to be fine.

“he’s fine” she said gently nodding as they let him go only for him to basically throw himself into Y/N small figure, wrapping his arm around her waist sticking his nose into her neck.

Smiling , she kissed his head gently while rubbing his back.

“I-I’m sorry Y/n I tried, I did but when he touched you I-I lost it and-” cutting her wolf’s words short with a loving kiss to remind him to breathe.

“It’s alright, I get it my love. Let’s get you home” she said gently making him nod pulling away from her but keeping hold of her hand and both saying their goodbye’s and sorry’s to everyone and the pack.

That night was ended with no words... just gentle actions, a relaxed Paul, and a warm Y/N.

- - -

#sam uley #twilight #twilight wolf pack #twilghtwolf #twilight paul #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x y/n #jared cameron #embry call #paul lahote x short reader #paul lahote #quil ateara #jacob black #uley pack #quileute #wolfpack #wolf #newmoon #eclipse #breaking dawn #paul lahote smut

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Supernatural Series Finale

It took me a couple days to collect my thoughts on one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch in my life. Like I said a few days ago, I cried even harder watching it the second time around. But now that I’ve had a chance to process and also see what other people were saying, I think I can finally put into words my impression of the finale. 

Buckle up, this is a long one....

Let me preface this first off by saying that as an adamant Dean girl that has said numerous times over the years that all I’ve ever wanted was to wrap Dean in a blanket and give him some forehead kisses and tell him everything is going to be fine, this episode gutted me. I fully believe that my boy did not deserve to fight so hard for so long to just die as soon as he was free. He deserved a lifetime of truly enjoying time with his baby brother, the person he loved most in the whole world.

Now with that being said, having watched this series so many numerous times, I truly don’t believe that the show could have ended any other way. It’s something that has been pointed out by the creator, the writers, the actors, and even the characters themselves in the show. Dean never saw anything else for himself than dying doing the one thing he knows best, hunting. I saw a post that discussed how this would have happened numerous times already had Chuck not been interfering in their lives, and I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment. 

And Dean had been raised to never think anything of that. It goes back to Cas’ declaration that he is “the most loving human he has ever met”. Dean is and always has been a man of duty. He would gladly die at the end of a blade if it meant he saved someone from the fate his family was ‘destined’ to live. He has always cared more about other people than he ever has himself. It part of the reason that his freak out in 15.17 didn’t throw me because for fuck’s sake wasn’t it his turn to be a little bit selfish for once?

Anyway, I digress. Dean has been fighting for others his whole life. And as stated in 15.19, him and Sam were free to finally write their own story. Is it not 100% on character that Dean would die a hunter’s death? As we see in the beginning of the episode, the Winchesters could have chosen to walk away from the life then. They could have chose the apple pie life, a wife and 2.5 kids. But they didn’t, they chose to continue saving people, hunting things. They were writing their own story, even if it ended tragically. But that’s life, it’s messy and depressing, but it’s also beautiful and even if Dean only got a small taste of that, I can be happy.

I know a lot of people feel like that negates their character growth throughout the seasons, but I disagree. I think that the way this ended shows just how much both of them had grown. Sam very well could have went to Jack and begged him to bring Dean back and Dean could have asked him to. But neither felt that it was necessary any longer. Without Chuck pulling the strings, that scary, neurotic, codependence they used to hold was gone. Dean was okay with dying and Sam let him go. Dean told him how much he loved him and how scared he had been to go get him at school. Dean opened up, something that season 1 Dean never would have done. Just look back at “Faith”, the episode where Dean makes every joke in the book about dying instead of facing the truth that his time was up and Sam refuses to accept it so much that his one source to save him (unwittingly) is black magic. The men I saw in 15.20 were far from the men we met in season one. 

Coming back to finally being free, I have to talk about the dammed paperwork in Dean’s room. I’ve seen the speculation about that. But that’s all it is, speculation. We have no idea what that was supposed to be about. If they had meant for us to see it, they would have shown it to use like they showed us the “Dean’s other other phone” sticker. But they didn’t. So it’s perfectly fine to speculate about it, that all a part of art interpretation, but in my opinion, even if Dean was working on ‘something else’ I don’t think he ever could have fully walked away from hunting. This ending was for all intents and purposes, inevitable. 

For all the rest, as a writer, I fully understand the way that they chose to do this episode. Sure covid played a role but the boys had said that the crux of what the episode was did not change. There is a certain nuance to storytelling, like I posted back on Thursday and something that is probably one of the most famous lines from this show. Endings are hard. Writing is hard. It’s impossible to please everyone and even harder to tie up all loose ends. At the end of the day, the writers had to be satisfied with the story that they put out, irregardless of what you or I think. As Jensen so beautifully puts it, Supernatural is a piece of art, one that has numerous hands in the pot. From writers to actors and directors. And art is always up for interpretation. But that’s the beauty in it. 

I talked to a dear friend, @waywardbeanie after the episode and was like “I want to know x.y.and z” because a part of me wanted all the answers from them. I’ve always been a person so very deeply rooted in canon (I know as a fanfic author that sounds weird but stay with me). I trust the information given to me and take it as face value. I seen my stories as an extension to canon, not trying to rewrite it. So it took me a few days, and more conversations with other fans of the show, like @winchest09 , to understand that the facts left out of the final were most likely intentional. 

This is a show that has such a passionate and loving (mostly) fandom. Together we have done so much good for the world, and that is something even if you hated the finale, you can’t take back. The writers left the ending open for us, to write our own stories, whether it’s just your thoughts or if you actually write a piece of fanfiction. There is so little about what happens after Sam leaves, presumably for Austin (don’t even get me started on the essence of that cause I might cry again), because it’s our job to decide. Did Sam quite hunting all together or was he a pseudo Bobby, manning the phones for other hunters? Did he finally go to law school or end up getting some other mundane job? Who was his wife or girlfriend or baby momma in the background? Was it Eileen? If not did she know about his life? One could drive themselves crazy answering these questions, and it’s your right to do so however it will make you happy. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter to the story. 

At the end of the day, what mattered was the peace that the boys found together, in heaven. Sure Dean missed Sammy when he first got there, but he didn’t fuss, because as Bobby said “he would be along”. So Dean did what he’s always done, he took a drive in Baby, and Sam was there when he finally brought her to a stop. In the end their story ended just as it had started, our boys together. 

And I know a lot of people are angry because one of the big themes this show touched on was that family doesn’t end in blood. And I agree wholeheartedly that I would have loved more familiar faces or even the mention of them (I screamed when Donna was mentioned), but at the end of the day, something Eric Kripke has been saying since season one, this show is and always has been about the brothers and their relationship. I in no way think that this negates the family they found along the way or how they could not have done a lot of it without them but, it’s not their story. I’m sorry but it’s true. 

It’s not about Cas, Jack, Bobby, Crowley, Ellen, Jo, Mary, Eileen, etc. It’s about Sam and Dean and it sucks that people can’t let that go, but I get it. I can’t imagine putting so much time into something to let something like that ruin the whole experience for you. I hope that you can find peace eventually. I guess that’s my blessing, that I never really cared for anyone besides Dean. Which isn’t to say I didn’t like characters but what happened to them never mattered to me, as bitchy as that sounds. 

I’m at peace with this ending, no matter how much it hurts me. And I think it’s just the finality of it that hurts. Jensen and Jared and Kripke are satisfied with their little show that could and that’s what matters most to me. Because those are the real people with real feelings that I care about. 

So there you have it. I have zero tolerance for negativity, so please keep your comments off this posts. You are free to your opinion but I don’t want to see it and put any seed of doubt in my acceptance of this ending. I’ll be the first to admit I’m too easily swayed, ha!

But if you need to talk, my inbox is always open. I’m still coping with the loss of this show and everything that comes with it. I don’t do well with change or facing my own mortality, something that has rattle me these past few days. I feel a million years older and that scares me. So know your feelings are valid and I’m here. 

#supernatural #spoilers #dont spoil the final hunt #spn finale #supernatural finale

[wersoverytired]

Watching the Supernatural finale hours after almost dying is, well. Different.

I cannot stress this enough: MAJOR triggers for frank discussion of a recent suicide attempt (no, not because SPN ended). Steer clear if this might hit too close to home. I'm no longer at risk, this happened a while ago and is over, and my care manager is aware.

Right, and spoilers for the series finale.

_____ _____ _____

I'm old enough to have been a fan of SPN since 2005. And considering the fact that childhood abuse had me suicidal at around age 12, probably earlier, it's safe to say that I have never watched the show without that constant battle going on in the background, unrelated.

When Dean said he was tired, that he was done, I got it. When Sam asked in that abandoned chapel what the upside was to him being alive, or when he confided in his brother in a hotel hallway that he had always felt unclean somehow, I could relate. There was more to the show than that, of course -- the love, the loyalty, the humor -- but the struggle was another point of connection.

As both the show and I grew long in the tooth, and my life circumstances were progressive getting worse (as they sometimes do when you carry untreated trauma), I used SPN and the fandom as a comfort. And increasingly, living to see how the Winchester story ends became one of those grappling hooks you latch on to when you look for reasons to keep going just a little longer.

Naturally, that didn't (and couldn't) arm me against the waves of acute, hope-obliterating, soul-sucking despair that can routinely crash on your head when you're dealing with poverty, chronic physical illness and disability -- and in a harsh country, too -- as well as being severely post traumatic and dissociative. Saving me was never the show's job, nor should it have been. I used it as much as I could, though.

The more I felt like I had to die, the more I tried. Dying hardly ever comes naturally, not even when you feel like there's no other way. Painfully isolated and increasingly bedridden, I watched convention panels and smiled so hard my face hurt. Other times I cried. And I made online friends, often through the fandom, who made life less empty. Who loved and laughed and cried with me from afar. It's hard to overstate the effect that can have when you're trapped in a body that's pretty much your cage, with a mind that's wounded and struggling.

I kept fighting. But I also kept finding myself, over and over again, faced with the reality that most people who are deeply traumatized, certainly those who are also severely dissociative, get to know early on: the world excels at letting many of us know that there's no place for us. Fighting hard to survive with about 10% of what I need to live, I sometimes find it hard not to listen to that toxic message that many survivors and disabled folks hear and feel coming at them over and over: you're too broken to justify the cost and effort of keeping you alive.

It's been an especially hard couple of years in that sense. And as the finale was months, then weeks, then days away, I kept telling myself to wait. Wait for that. Decide later. "Deciding later" is a survival technique I've been using for decades now whenever I get actively suicidal. It's not a bad one.

So that very last Thursday evening (or very late night, where I live) came around. And it so happens that I was at the very end of my rope. Again, for unrelated reasons to the show ending, obviously. And I couldn't go on.

The finale was hours away, and off I went on that same journey. Wait. Wait just long enough to see how it ends. It's been 15 years. You've survived so far, and that bit of closure, at least, is within reach. Just fucking wait to watch that last episode; see how they go before you do. Let that be the one last kind thing you do for yourself.

I kept telling myself that even as I numbly went through my final checklist.

I know it hurts so much. I know this damn body is tortured beyond what you can stand, I know we've been told it's about to get even worse. And hours more of this seem like an eternity. Watching anything seems impossible. I know the PTSD is intolerable, I know you can't sleep, you live in constant fear and rage and exhaustion; I know you're alone in this.

I know you live in a place that has made its peace with people like you dying of Covid, and finds it a small price to pay for refusing to wear masks. I know how that makes you feel, to be told that your life is worth that little because you're disabled. I know 9 months of what amounts to house arrest, while living alone, have made everything so much worse. I know you just want to go.

But wait to watch how it ends. And decide later. You can go later. You can.

And I almost made it. I mean, I'm obviously still here, so I eventually survived. But I tried not to. I couldn't wait.

Sometimes, when you get to the lowest low point, when you are in all-encompassing agony, when your circumstances leave no room for hope even though you desperately want to live -- and I do, I so want to live -- no show, no fandom, no unfinished story can keep you from taking that step over the edge. Many times it can, but there are places where nothing has any meaning. Thursday night became one of those. Watching the finale was a faded notion in the background of all that agony, and then it was nothing at all.

I only managed to write one goodbye letter. Hard to be as organized as you imagined you would be, hard not to leave unforgivable loose ends. I have no memory of what the letter said, and I can't look at it, not yet. It's tucked away now, just out of view.

And then I went about doing the only thing that I felt could be done.

I didn't get to go away. Both because I couldn't stand the torment of the only method I had handy, though I sure gave it my best efforts -- two more minutes would have sealed the deal -- and because I was fucking afraid to die. All the way through, until I gave up and stopped what I was doing.

Fear of dying when you're your own executioner is an odd thing. Your body wants out of this plan you've made for you both. It responds like you'd expect when someone's life in under threat. It makes you have to run to the bathroom over and over, it makes your heart hammer in your chest and your ears ring.

There was no crying. Not at that point. I don't think there was crying when I gave up and accepted that I was staying alive, either. But I can't remember.

I don't know what I did during the few hours after that. The physical consequences of what I did were gone within half an hour or so -- being so ill, I knew not to try something that would land me in the ER during COVID, should I not complete the plan. I'd also be on my own there, and most likely dissociated to such a degree that I wouldn't be able to move or speak. That's not something I ever wanted to experience again, and a fucking horrible starting point if I survived.

Anyway, I was okay physically soon enough, which is not how it usually goes. I just remember being fuzzy and distant and alone. There was no one to call, and I also thought about how it would feel to get a call like that. I considered a crisis hotline, but didn't have the energy to explain my messy, complicated circumstances. I probably just lay there.

A few hours later, I was present enough to watch the finale. Still don't know how. Dissociation has it occasional advantages, one of which is being disconnected from certain things when it's all too much. And so I watched the final episode in bed, with the aftermath of that suicide attempt still all around me.

I watched Dean die the way he did. I watched Sam die. I watched them both being given the pained, tearful reassurance that it was okay to go. Watched them being held, watched those two strong, kindhearted, emotional, loyal men crying as they breathed their last. Dean's death, especially, broke my heart. He so clearly did not want to die. Was afraid, more than ever before.

I did cry then. I sobbed. I could cry for them. Hell, I could cry for that dog, wandering with Sam through the empty halls of the bunker. I cried as that dog looked up, with all that trust and love, at the only human he had left. I cried for Sam, sitting drained and aching in the dark library. Saying "I know, me too" on the unmade bed in Dean's cold, empty room.

Before that, back in the barn, I watched Dean not want to go. Sam begging him not to go, then forcing himself to tell his older brother what he needed, what he begged to hear. That he wasn't abandoning the one person he had spent his life looking out for. That Sam would survive him going, now that he had to go.

I never saved the world, and there's nothing heroic about me. But so much of what went on around those characters' deaths echoed what I had felt hours earlier, what I still was feeling. It gave me a safe way to cry for that, too.

I will always be grateful to the show for that small mercy. And grateful to Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, whom I've never met and never will, and have given such phenomenal performances here that they reached through all that distance, to unknowingly touch an ache that I could not cry for. They'll never know that. I imagine there are so many people like me who feel the same gratefulness, too, for their own similar moments of human connection.

The show is over now, and I try not to be sad about that, and I'm sure I will be. It would be sadder if I didn't feel a loss. Meanwhile, life doesn't stall just because you tried to stop your own. It's around two weeks later now, bright and loud outside my window in a world that's not safe for me to go out in, and I am lying in bed in a half-lit room trying to manage my pain. I didn't die. I'm still here.

I can't pretend I'm glad that I am, but I also know that I'm not ready to go yet. I'm just not. I have no good reason for that; sometimes you're just too afraid to die. And so I can't see myself trying to go away again any time soon. My health might take care of that for me anyway, but otherwise, looks like I'm stuck on this ride.

I'm very grateful that I've had SPN and its people for so long through this battle, to give me and the rest of the fandom so much more than meets the eye. And I'm grateful for that last, good cry, too.

Well, not the last cry, for sure. There's always rewatch #475783. 

#spoilers #supernatural finale #triggering stuff #surviving #Suicide #supernatural 15x20 #supernatural #15x20 spoilers #ptsd #cptsd #trauma

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Undefined^Behavior”

Summary: Refusing to give up, refusing to shatter the trust she had worked so hard to build, Y/N fights to get Elliot back; only, when she reaches out, she meets someone new. 

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

Word Count: 6200

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley @hopplessdreamer @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall @hah0106 @clumsybookworm18 @diasimar @ramisgirl512​ @aboutthatmelancholystorm​ 

Warnings: Angst and believe it or not, SMUT

I hung up the phone and pushed my chair back from my desk, standing to stretch and shake away the agitations of the day and of my life. Lying for Elliot all week had my mind bouncing between irritation and a desperate, black sadness threatening to swallow me whole if I let myself get too close to it.

As I walked to the panel of windows in my office, I thought back to my conversation with Darlene. When Elliot missed work on Friday, I had texted her that evening to see when she could meet me. Leaning against the cool class of the window, a comforting chill creeping across my arm and my forehead, I was reminded of how she and I watched the people from the coffee shop window as we talked about her brother.

Darlene was not one to get out of bed until double-digits popped up on her alarm clock, so we agreed to meet at a coffee shop about a block from Lafayette and Broome at noon on Saturday.

My eyes swept over the muted beige walls and the dark wooden tables of the small, cozy seating area, and I saw she had snagged a corner stool at the high-table built to look out onto the street. I smiled as I took in her legs as they stretched out across the stool beside her, unapologetically taking up twice the space a person needed. My smile split into a grin as I saw the two extra-large coffees clearly purchased without her even bothering to take off her heart-shaped sunglasses.

Darlene let her legs flop to the underside of her stool as I approached. She spun to face the window, reaching up to slide her sunglasses to the top of her head while I shrugged out of my coat and sat down.

“Thanks for meeting me. And for caffeinating me,” I said as I took a cautious sip, cringing slightly as the scalding coffee washed over my tongue. I longed to guzzle it considering I had barely slept since the incident with Elliot.  

Darlene looked over to give me a flicker of a smile as she twisted her coffee cup between her fingers, her apprehension palpable.

“No big. What’s up?”

I pressed my lips together as I took a breath to buy a moment as Darlene watched me from the corner of her eye.

“Have you talked to Elliot, uhm, since Thursday night?”

I glanced at Darlene’s profile as her big eyes watched the people on the sidewalk scurry by. For once, she was holding back.

“Don’t,” I pressed. “We know each other too well to start holding shit back now.”

Darlene huffed and swirled on her stool. She leaned back into the wall as she looked at me in that same searching way as Elliot, like a child deciding whether or not to reveal their secret for fear of being punished.

“I haven’t talked to him, okay?”

“You know what happened.”

Darlene fidgeted as she plucked at the tights she was wearing under a pair of a stone-washed denim shorts. “He wasn’t answering my texts so I went to see him last night. He was a dick. So I left. We didn’t really chat.”

I took another sip of coffee, formulating what to say next. Any conversation with either of the Aldersons had the potential to turn bad pretty fast. Darlene was always the easiest of the two to be straight with, but if she felt like she needed to protect her brother, I knew I wasn’t going to get very far.

Mostly, I didn’t want her to feel like she was making a choice: me or him. Darlene and I were both on the same side, whether she fully believed it or not.

“He wasn’t himself on Thursday night,” I stated, opting to avoid another question.  

“That’s just it, Y/N. He is himself, right? Isn’t that what’s so fucked up about this whole thing?” Darlene pushed off from the wall and swiveled on her stool again, returning her gaze to the sidewalk. “And he wasn’t, like, the crazy version of himself. He was just . . . a dick. He gets like that sometimes, too.”

“We can all be dicks.”

“Duh. But this was different,” Darlene said, her voice quieting. “I interrupted him.”

A prickle of fear crept down my spine and I tightened my grip on my cup.

“Interrupted what?”

“He was writing a kernel rootkit. When he noticed me looking, that’s when he told me to get the fuck out.”

“And I’m sure you smiled politely and did as he asked,” I said with a huff of a laugh. “I’m guessing there’s no way to swing that it was work-related?”

Darlene chuckled darkly, “Maybe your ship’s gone to shit since you moved up to the big office?”

“Elliot was supposed to be working on new scripts to track WiFi vulnerabilities.”

“Definitely not what he was doing,” she said as exasperation tinged the edges of her words.

I turned away from Darlene’s profile. People were passing quickly by on the sidewalk, tucked into their coats to stop the early-spring wind that always seemed to hold the threat of rain. I watched as cars sat bumper to bumper, waiting for the light at the crosswalk to change.

The longer our silence wore on, the longer I watched such seemingly normal bits of life pass by, the louder my mind repeated the names of the people who had been hacked at my company and at Dad’s.

Colin. Bill. Kurt.

The other anonymous hacks flashed through my mind, the ones I couldn’t assign a name to, and I wondered, really wondered if Elliot was responsible.  

Don’t be crazy.

Elliot and I were together more than we were apart up until a few weeks ago. What could Elliot have even gained from those hacks? They had nothing to do with E Corp, which was the only hack I was really worried about him committing: a vengeance hack.  

“This is such a mess,” I forced myself to say to distract my thoughts before they could spiral. “I need to see him.”

“Give him space. It can be awhile before he’s normal again.”

“He missed work, Darlene. I . . .”

“What?” she said, turning her light blue eyes to my face.

“I lied. Said he had a death in the family.”

“Fuck!” Darlene said too loudly, making me jump and drawing the eyes of other patrons.

“Jesus,” I hissed, “What’s wrong?”

“I fucking hate this!” she said, her voice low again. “We were hanging out more. Having fun. He was . . . happy. I was happy. Things felt normal for fucking once and here we fucking go again. I can’t keep doing this shit.”

My lips turned down in a frown of compassion. Sometimes I forgot how young Darlene really was.

“You aren’t his keeper, Darlene. He should be taking care of you. Actually, you should be taking care of each other.”

She made a little huff of derision.

“Yeah fucking right.”

“I’m serious. You need to prioritize your own well-being.”

“He’s all I have, Y/N. He’s all I’ve ever had,” Darlene said sadly, then with irritation, “But I’m sick of his fucking shit.”

“I wanted to talk to you today because I’m not giving up on him without a damn good fight. I promised you that.”

Darlene took a big gulp of her coffee and without turning to look at me, she linked her arm in mine as it sat on the tabletop and leaned into me, resting her head on my upper arm.

I sighed, “Let me take care of him this time,” and tilted my head so it was resting on top of hers, the slight warmth radiating out to my cheek.

We sat like that for a long time as I reminded myself that all Elliot needed was one more reason to close himself off forever. I started our relationship knowing he had an inability to trust people, an inability to even like people. It was clear he had never let someone in this far before and the appearance of this other told me I was right.

We watched the people outside, feeling like we were actually the outsiders, looking in on something we couldn’t understand. As I breathed in her scent, oddly similar to Elliot’s, I realized that Darlene hadn’t let anyone in this far either, not in a long, long time.

* * * * *

I pushed back from my office window and rubbed at the cool spot on my arm, nibbling at my lower lip as I thought about how I took Darlene’s advice and gave Elliot space.

Except that under the guise of giving him space, I was actually scratching a very selfish itch.

My parents had kept their apartment uptown as they transitioned to permanently living in Greenwich, deciding that it was more convenient to keep it while Dad still sat on the board. Their apartment was close to a library that was open late into the evenings because of the slew of after-school programs it ran for kids with nowhere else to go. So, instead of going home to my empty apartment, I took the 4 uptown and spent most of the evening diving through psychiatric volumes on disorders that fit Elliot’s symptoms. I was smart enough not to so much as google anything slightly related to Elliot’s possible condition; I didn’t trust that he wasn’t keeping tabs on me in the best, safest way he knew how.

I started with the list Jill had ticked off months ago, and after eliminating anxiety and most stress disorders, I was left straddling dissociative identity disorder and schizophrenia.

After spending so much time with Elliot, I couldn’t recall any instances when he seemed to hear or see things that weren’t there. I couldn’t even really recall him being flat or withdrawn, something schizophrenics tended to be as a result of everything that was going on in their minds. Elliot was almost always happy, or at least content and relaxed, when he was with me; if he was distant, it was because he was sad and it almost always had to do with him believing I was unhappy or upset with him.

I also hadn’t noticed any episodes of him losing time aside from the server room incident and Jared’s smashed nose, which both surely qualified as being traumatic enough to trigger a flashback.

According to my research, traumatic experiences didn’t trigger schizophrenia—that was DID. And what I witnessed on the Fourth and on Thursday was someone protecting Elliot. The more I pushed about the cause of his changes or outbursts, the angrier that protective personality got.

Both disorders scared me because I knew neither one could be addressed without psychiatric care. Schizophrenia, at least, could be managed with medication, but DID was a developmental disorder with no medication available to treat it, psychotherapy and behavioral modification being the most practiced options.

After nearly a week had passed with no word from Elliot, I texted Jill. I was armed with my research and ready to seek a medical opinion. Being a PA in an ER had exposed her to a lot of patients with mental health issues. If anyone could discreetly give me some more information, it would be her.

I finally walked away from the window and back to my desk, settling in to answer the cache of emails that never seem to stop growing. I glanced at the clock on my computer five times before I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to focus on work until I needed to leave.

I kept all my texts ambiguous, no longer trusting in Elliot’s promise to ask, not hack. My message to Jill was lighthearted, a simple, friendly check-in since I hadn’t seen her much since Christmas.

It was just after 7 when I popped into the hospital cafeteria, my eyes catching the wave of Jill’s hand as I scanned the room.

“Hey, babe! It’s been a minute!”

“A long, long minute,” I said as I sat down in front of her, twisting to hang my tote off the back of my chair.

“What happened?” Jill asked, as she bit into her sandwich wrap.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Weren’t things literally rosy on Valentine’s Day?” she asked, her words slightly muffled as she chewed.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Things were.”

I stopped and bit my lip, surprised by the tears that filled my eyes. Sometimes friends could bring out your vulnerabilities just because you knew they loved you without condition.  

Jill put her wrap down and waited, her face soft, compassionate. It was no wonder she was so damn good at taking care of people.

“I guess … we just stopped communicating. And it built into this weird tension.”

I knew I had to be careful—I trusted Jill, but there was no way I could tell her, or anyone, about E Corp.

“Do you remember the night you met Elliot?” I asked in a rush.

“Hard to forget. Handsome and wounded. Rescued by the one person who’s always trying to save everyone from their worst selves.”

I smiled, a quick upturn of my lips to show my appreciation for her assessment of me.

“You have no idea just how wounded, Jill.”

I took a deep breath and recounted what happened in my apartment a week ago with as much detail as I could. My eyes were fixed on her sandwich as I fought to maintain an even tone.

When I finally lifted my eyes, to meet her serious gaze, I continued, “And he—whoever he is … was—that was the last I saw of him. I’ve tried calling, texting, emailing. And I tried from work, too. I had to lie to HR today so I know I’ve got to go see him. I can’t just let him fall into the void, but I need to know—what the fuck was that?”

“Shit, Y/N,” Jill breathed.

“Any ideas? I know you’re not a psychiatrist, but you see a lot of people in a day.”

“You said it was like he wasn’t himself? Like he was a completely different person?”

“Yes.”

“Did his voice change pitch?”

“No … but the intonation was different. The words he used were different. It wasn’t like Elliot at all.”

“Was he Elliot when you first got home—like for sure?”

I thought for a moment and nodded yes.

“Did anything happen, even something seemingly normal before he changed?”

“What do you mean?

“Well, like a tic. A neck crack, a twitch, body tensing, fluttering eyelids—even a prolonged blink.”

“Yeees,” I said slowly, then excitedly, “Yes! His eyelids fluttered and … and it seemed like he was withdrawing into himself.”

Jill was quiet, her brows furrowed as she thought. With an even voice, one that I recognized as her doctor-voice, she said, “I really think it’s dissociative identity disorder.”

“I do, too,” I replied with a sigh of relief. “I’ve been researching.”

“Unsurprising,” Jill said with a small smile.

“What do I do? Do I tell him—”

“No,” Jill answered quickly. “He needs to see a psychiatrist. DID is an incredibly complex disorder. People who have it spend a lot of time pretending to be normal, and there are parts of Elliot that may believe they are perfectly normal—maybe not normal, but at least in control. It’s all a part of the system’s coping mechanisms. If DID was easy to detect, it wouldn’t serve its purpose of protecting the core from their trauma.”

“So my research was right—DID is the result of severe trauma.”

“Severe, yes. Also, prolonged emotional, physical, or sexual abuse. Because DID usually begins in childhood, most cases involve parental neglect. A child is rarely able to cope with any sort of abuse on their own, so without a parental protector, the mind copes with that abuse anyway it can.”

“From what Elliot’s sister told me, neglect only begins to describe what their mother did to them.”    

“Y/N. You can’t fix everyone who needs fixing.”

“You sound like Franco.”

Jill sighed, a smirk turning up the corners of her lips.

“I just want you to be careful. You absolutely cannot handle this on your own. Elliot needs professional help.”

“Can he—” I struggled to ask the one thing that scared me the most, the one thing never clearly answered in my research, “Can he ever get better?”

Jill frowned, “There’s no definitive answer. Some psychologists believe that if the alters can be integrated, a person with DID can live a normal life. But that doesn’t mean it’s a cure. A person with DID will always run the risk of dissociating. And if more trauma occurs, more alters may be created. It’s—complicated.”  

“I never really knew there was anything wrong until Elliot was triggered. What if he’s not triggered anymore?”

“Well, that’s part of the most effective treatment. He needs to explore his triggers, learn his trauma, and heal. It’s years of therapy,” Jill said as she reached out and squeezed my arm.

“I love him.”

Jill finally smiled, “I know you do. And he loves you. I have no doubt about that, babe. But you have to realize there are no guarantees with this disorder. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“He’s worth the risk.”

I was already resigned to fight for Elliot. Every bit of our relationship was one step forward, two steps back, so it came as no surprise that with a leap forward, it was time to damn near fall back off a cliff.

* * * * *

Later that evening, close to 10, I used my key to let myself into Elliot’s apartment.

I was unsurprised to find it empty but surprised to find it in the same state of mess it had been over Memorial Day weekend: Dishes in the sink, unmade bed, clothes scattered, an ashtray near the window almost overflowing, and the trash full.

I took a step toward the garbage bin and realized that it was full of packaging materials and old computer parts.

Why the hell did he need to do a complete scrub?

I walked over to his computer desk and realized everything was new—tower, monitors, all of it had to have been purchased since the last time I had spent the night.

My mind again flashed to the hacks, and there was a gnawing in my stomach that I knew I couldn’t dismiss. Maybe Elliot wasn’t capable of such destruction and manipulation, but whoever he was when he wasn’t Elliot sure as hell might be.

With a sigh of mental exhaustion and because I had no idea how long I’d need to wait, I started fusspotting. I made Elliot’s bed, or at least I started to. As soon as I caught that sweet, citrusy scent of his shampoo mixed in with stale cigarette smoke, I spent the next few minutes sobbing into his pillow. He was broken and I was helpless to put him back together.

But I wasn’t helpless to pull myself together, so I sat up, scrubbed the tears off my cheeks and after a hearty sniff, I finished making his bed.

I glanced at his computer again, and felt a strong pull, like when high tide is coming in and the ocean’s waves are crashing and pulling with a ferocity. I could feel the water rushing past me, sucking me into the abyss.  

I took another step toward his desk, my fingers twitching at my sides. I glanced at the door to his apartment before I slid my hand over the cool wood of the back of the chair.

My mind was at war.

Elliot hacked me.

Because he didn’t trust me yet.

He hacked my ex-boyfriends.

Because he didn’t trust himself.

He hurt me.

I withheld information about his own father.

Elliot loves me.

And I love him.

I backed away from the desk, swallowing thickly, my heart beating fast. I ran a shaky hand through my hair as I made my way into the kitchen and flung open the cupboard where Elliot kept his dish soap. I filled the sink with scalding water and concentrated on getting the few dishes in the sink commercial-clean.  

I cleared the counter of the few take out containers that let me know he had at least eaten something this past week, and I stuffed them into the already full trash. I took the trash out to the dumpster alongside the building, and returned to the apartment, still empty.

I looked around for Elliot’s weed box and contemplated smoking up, but there was nothing inside. He was either too busy to refill or he was smoking that much now.

I scrolled through my phone, blindly reading a few work emails before I stopped and pulled up my messages. I stared at the screen, Elliot’s name already typed, a stupid black heart beside his name which felt achingly symbolic now. I had thought it was funny once—my dark little soul in his dark jeans with his dark hair.

I typed a message telling him I was waiting at his place but I deleted it, realizing that if I spooked him, I had no idea when I’d get another chance to talk to him.

Tossing my phone on his worn couch, I stood up and began pacing. After several laps, I pulled a book off the shelf and settled on Elliot’s mattress to read, my nervous energy slowly giving way to tiredness as the night wore into morning.

My head snapped up when I heard the keys in the lock; it was 2:30 in the morning when he finally came home, backpack on, hood up, my little black heart finally in front of me for the first time in a week.

He started to shrug out of his backpack as he walked further into the room, but he noticed me as I shifted on his bed, my feet sliding off the mattress to ground myself on the floor.

He froze.

His eyes were wide, staring at me like this was the first time he had ever seen me. Then they started to dart all around his apartment. I could see the panic settle across his features, and I tossed the book off my lap as I stood.

“Where the hell have you been?” I said with an anger that startled us both.

Elliot’s eyes washed over my face in a wave of apprehension, but he remained silent, his eyes moving away from my gaze to focus on the book I had dropped on the bed.

The longer he was silent, the more agitated I got. I knew what was going on wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair he got a pass for walking out on me, consciously or not, I really didn’t care at the moment.  

“I lied for you, Elliot. First Ali, then HR. I told them your mother died because you’ve been gone for a fucking week.”

His head snapped up and he fixed his eyes on me for a few seconds before reverting them to the floor. He shrugged the rest of the way out of his backpack, tossing it beside the kitchen table. He glanced up again, his gaze traveling slowly up my face to look at me once more, his eyes a stormy hue as they peered at me from beneath his hood.

Still, he said nothing.

“Well? Where have you been?”

He took a deep breath, his mouth hanging open just a bit as he pulled his hood down and subconsciously fixed his hair.

I froze, my own face twisting into confusion.

There was something different about his movements.

This Elliot was slower, more deliberate, as if he were carrying on a conversation inside of his head before he decided to do anything, even blink.

“You know what—fine,” I said quietly, my mind swirling with a confused anger that I was now using to build a barrier between us. “You win. Everything is always on your terms. Fuck you, Elliot.”

His eyes snapped to mine as I took a few bold steps forward, determined to brush past him and get the fuck out of his apartment.

But he closed the distance between us, moving more swiftly than he had since he walked in the door. He grabbed my shoulders and stilled me. My eyes were burning into his as his searched my face, as he looked at me as if maybe he’d never seen me clearly before.

“How could you do this to us?” I asked, my voice a choked whisper, my eyes bouncing between his as I prayed to whatever god that was listening that he would finally answer me.

“Us?” he questioned in a gruff voice, his brows drawn and his eyes still the dark grey of a sky before a storm, still searching.

“Us,” I repeated, my voice barely audible.

His eyes bore into mine, contemplating, struggling to understand, then suddenly he closed what distance was left between us and kissed me.

When my lips parted with a soft oh of surprise, he pushed his tongue into my mouth as his fingers dug into my shoulders, steadying me.

My mind raced.

Elliot didn’t kiss like this.

Elliot didn’t move like this.

Elliot didn’t burn like this.

I pushed him back and stared at him, wondering if he was the same as he’d been in my apartment, but there was no iciness in his gaze, no boldness: only an unabashed want, a need. He seemed . . . more Elliot than not.

And I missed him.

I stepped closer to him, my hands shaky as they reached up to cradle the back of his head and the side of his face.  

“Is this—is this okay?” he asked, his voice thick with lack of use, as one of his hands circled my waist and flattened against the small of my back while the other moved to tangle in my hair.

“I’ve missed you,” I said in answer, leaning in to kiss him, to get lost in this not-quite-Elliot.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself. Looking back, I should have known in that moment that if I was too weak to resist him, I was going to be powerless when he needed me to stop him—when he needed me to protect him from this part of himself, a part that would prove far more dangerous than his protector.  

His hands were roaming over my body, grasping and kneading as we made quick work of each other’s clothes. He walked me back toward the bed, and I expected him to comment on the fact I made it, but he didn’t.

This Elliot didn’t care.

His hands found my shoulders and pushed me down, my breasts bouncing as they hit the mattress, but he was on top of me before my heart could even hammer out its next beat.

He stopped attacking my mouth long enough to pull back as he dragged his fingers over my body, pressing into my soft flesh and leaving little red lines that seemed to fascinate him until he bent to lick along wherever he left a trail.

His want was palpable, as if he had gone without human contact for far too long.

I tried to push him off so I could settle on top of him and slow things down, but he pushed back, clearly craving control.

His body was heavy on top of mine, pressing into me as he slid his hand between my legs, his fingers becoming slick with my arousal, especially once he pushed two of them inside of me, pumping once … twice, before he replaced his fingers with his cock.

I groaned as I yielded to him, my eyes slipping shut for a moment as I shuddered when he bottomed out.

His eyes were shut tight as he began to move in me, so I reached up and squeezed his shoulders before sliding my hands around the base of his neck, squeezing at his throat until his eyes shot open, his mouth parting in a long sigh of satisfaction.

I couldn’t read him at all as he looked at me, his eyes now making a solid argument for dark blue.

His eyes stayed locked on mine as he bucked his hips into me.

I moved my hands down to his chest, grasping at his pecs before he grabbed one of my wrists and squeezed, shifting as he pinned it above my head. He did the same to my other hand and I clutched onto the edge of the mattress since he didn’t have a headboard.

He stretched out over me, holding my hands in place as he fucked me.

“Control? Is that what you need?” I breathed out.

He said nothing, but he released my wrists and moved onto his haunches, pulling me with him.

Elliot did not have sex like this.

He grasped me around my rib cage as he pushed into me, fucking me slowly until his fingers crawled to the flesh of my breasts. He kneaded them, tweaking my hard nipples before he grasped onto the sides, pushing them together as he started to pound into me.

His fingers dug into the flesh of my tits as he picked up his pace and pounded into me, and I knew there would be tiny bruises in the morning. Air was escaping his mouth in breathy little pants, and still, he didn’t speak.

My fingers clenched around the edge of the mattress as I braced myself against him, wanting to take it all, wishing I could give it back—I wanted to consume his anger and his hurt, but I also wanted to feed him mine.

He pulled out of me with a hiss and scrambled to stand beside the bed. He held his hand out for me and when he yanked me to the edge of the mattress, he reached down and gathered a handful of my hair. He held me still as he pressed his cock against my lips, silently commanding me to open for him.  

He was so quiet as he slid past my lips and onto my tongue; the only noises he emitted were sighs and low moans. He didn’t ask permission to come in my mouth and I added that to the list of reasons this was not-Elliot.

Not-Elliot, who watched with fascination as I swallowed every bitter drop he left in my mouth.

I barely had time to take a breath before I found myself pushed back on the mattress with his face between my legs. His lips immediately wrapped around my clit and sucked with fervor, demanding my orgasm instead of coaxing it. I tried to squirm away, the feeling too much, too soon, and when I firmly told him to stop, he did.

He looked up, his lips still glossy with my arousal, his face a twisted combination of confusion and frustration. It was clear a very strong part of him did not want to obey my request.

“Ease up. Please.”

He lowered his gaze slowly before he dipped his face back between my legs; this time, his tongue worked my clit and the little noises that escaped from his mouth made me impossibly wet.

I felt my orgasm building, my body desperate to clench around something, but he was either denying me intentionally or denying me because he didn’t know my body like Elliot did.

I had to settle for thrusting my hand into his hair and grinding up against his face as I came; he took it, burying his face against my heat as if he couldn’t get enough.

For only a moment, a hummingbird heartbeat, I relaxed into the mattress as my senses returned.

But before I even opened my eyes, he maneuvered my body onto all fours and was sliding into me with a long, low moan.

Elliot and I had a solid, satisfying sexual connection, but tonight, this part of himself was unleashed, like he had been caging some form of an animal-self.

We fucked for well over another hour and by the time he came again, this time while buried deep inside me, we were both spent, sweaty, bruised and scratched.

By the time I came out of the bathroom, he was asleep, passed out on his back, the sheet barely covering his body despite the chill that had crept into the apartment. I laid down and pulled the comforter up over both of us, keeping to myself on one side of his bed and wondering what the fuck just happened.

I didn’t want to fall asleep because I needed to be at work in a few hours, but I must have dozed off because I woke up to Elliot’s fingers ghosting over his handywork on my chest. When I opened my eyes, I startled him, his hand freezing along with his face.

With one long look into his eyes, I knew; whoever he was last night, was gone.

“If you want to keep your job, you’re going to have to come back to work on Monday.”

I knew he was listening, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the fingerprint bruises on my breasts. He swallowed thickly as his fingers brushed across a red scratch on my arm.

“You were a little rough last night.”

“I hurt you.”

“I let you.”  

Elliot’s eyes filled with tears and he began to move away from me, his hand lifting off of my skin like it was poison.

“Do you remember last night? Or the past few days?”

He looked at me, helpless and hopeless, as a tear crested and slid down his face.

“You have to see someone, El. I can’t handle this on my own.”

He swiped at his eyes and at his cheek before he nodded in agreement.

“Come here,” I said softly, opening my arms so he could settle onto my chest.

I held him tightly, refusing to let him put anymore distance between us, and eventually, I felt his body shift and his arms circle around me.

“I—” he croaked and then tightened his grip.

“I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you want because I can’t lose you.”

“That’s the problem, El. You have to want to get better. Not because I want you to—but because you want to.”

“I want to be normal,” he said, his voice a desperate ache.

“At least I finally understand what that means,” I said with a dark, soft chuckle. “I fought you on it, but you’ve been right all along. You hurt so deeply. Until you stop hurting, you’re never going to feel normal.”

“Don’t—please don’t leave me.”

“I don’t want to leave you. But if you can’t stop hurting, you’re not going to stop hurting me. I can’t—I’m not a saint, Elliot. I get angry, depressed, and when you hurt me, it’s the scariest, most empty feeling I’ve ever had.”

I felt his tears start to spill onto my chest, hot and wet, and my own eyes welled up in response.  

“I’m so sorry,” he rasped, his voice thick with tears.

“Oh, El,” I breathed, burying my face in his hair. “I love you.”

“I’ll go. I want to go,” he said with a determined desperation, his voice breaking its characteristic monotone.

“Okay,” I whispered into his hair, not bothering to hide the relief I felt.

* * * * *

Glassy-eyed and in yesterday’s clothes, I texted my secretary to let her know I was running late. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed, my exhaustion a malignance, settled deep, all the way to my bones.

But I had Elliot, my Elliot, back.

And more importantly, he knew he had a problem that was beyond his control and he was finally willing to face it. If we could just get through this next stage, I knew there wouldn’t be anything left that our relationship couldn’t weather.

I snagged a seat on the train and I leaned back, my body gently lurching from side to side as the train sped toward my apartment.

The clatter of the train and the quiet of the early-morning car permitted my mind to drift back to the Fourth of July, and I was assaulted by a deep sense of happiness, by a longing for a real future with Elliot.

I saw him, my little niece sitting on his lap, but slowly, Molly’s hair darkened and instead, there was a little boy, the spitting image of his beautiful father, sitting in Elliot’s lap. The little boy’s face was filled with awe as he watched the fireworks explode overhead.

This imagined Elliot turned to me and smiled with a picture-perfect grin of contentment.

Yes, I thought, my mind flirting with the edges of sleep, falling into a dreamy, dangerous state of half-consciousness, dangerous because my mind was too awake to ever forget the image I had just created.

Yes, I thought. It’s possible.    

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #female reader #rami malek #mr robot #mr robot fanfiction #Elliot x reader #rami malek character

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

On Your Side (Part 4)

Summary: The reader reconnects with an old friend and Jared and Gen’s relationship moves to the next step...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jared x daughter!reader

Word Count: 5,800ish

Warnings: language, mentioned past self-harm, disrespectful boyfriend

A/N: Enjoy!

_____

One Month Later

“Yo, kiddo, you seen…” trailed off Jensen as he walked around the side of your house, Henry immediately sitting up from where you’d been making out on the back patio. “What’s all this?”

“Math homework,” you said, Henry nodding.

“Is that what they call it these days? Used to be first base when I was your age,” he said. “Which is as far as this is gonna go, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” said Henry.

“Smart boy,” said Jensen with a chuckle. “So...you seen your dad around?”

“Obviously not,” you said, glancing at Henry.

“Must still be on his date,” he said. “Tell him to call me when you see him.”

“Okay,” you said, Jensen standing there and watching Henry. “Do you need anything else?”

“Remember what I said kid,” said Jensen, Henry nodding. “I’ll see you around, kiddo.”

“Who was that?” he asked when Jensen left.

“My Uncle. Don’t worry about him,” you said. You went back to kissing him, Henry sliding a hand up your leg. You pushed it back, guiding his hand up to the back of your neck instead. He moved it down your back and let it settle on the small of your back for a moment before he dipped his fingers under your shirt.

“Dude,” you said, breaking apart and pushing his hand back. 

“What?”

“Let’s just make out, alright?” you said. He held up his hands and you returned to your kiss, Henry keeping his hands off of you before he slid his hand up your back again. You broke off and scoffed.

“What the fuck? I said-” you got out before he put a hand on your mouth and pushed you back against the lounge chair.

“We’re alone. Just relax,” he said. You glared at him and kneed him in the groin, rolling out from under him. “Y/N, calm down.”

“I thought you were my friend. Is this why half the girls at school give you dirty looks? You know you always said it was because your family doesn’t have as much money as the rest of the class but I have a feeling it’s for something else,” you said. 

“Most of the girls in school are sluts and you know it,” he said.

“Well I ain’t one of ‘em,” you said. “Get out.”

“We’ll go inside and up to your room. I got protection,” he said.

“I said get-” you said before he pushed you up against the side of the house. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You’re nervous. Let’s just go inside,” he said, grabbing your arm and pulling you around the side of the house. You punched him in the arm and started to knee him again.

“Get the fuck off!” you shouted.

“Y/N, shut up,” growled Henry.

“I’d listen to her kid unless you want an even bigger problem,” you heard. You spun around, Jensen’s car still in the driveway as he walked over. “Don’t even make me ask twice.”

Henry dropped his hand away and you quickly walked behind Jensen.

“Go in the house and call the police,” he said to you, Henry rolling his eyes. “Now.”

“Do I have really shitty taste in guys?” you asked Jensen a few hours later as you sat on the front step, your dad still talking to the police.

“No. That kid is bad news and it sounds like you’re the first girl that stood up to him,” he said. “Plus he’s eighteen so that’ll be extra fun for the little shithead.”

“Why can’t I like girls,” you groaned. “Girls are nice.”

“Yeah, yeah they are,” he said. “Boys are nice too. Just not that one.”

“Why’d you stick around?” you asked.

“I was dropping off some yard tools for your dad in the garage. I’d just finished up when I heard you two arguing,” he said. “So what was your plan if I wasn’t around?”

“Kick his ass,” you said.

“I like it,” he said with a laugh, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Maybe you’ll find a nice boy or girl at college.”

“I like boys, Jensen,” you said. “I liked Chris. Chris was sweet. We only broke it off because he moved halfway across the country.”

“You still talk to him?” he asked. You shook your head and he frowned.

“We wanted a clean break,” you said. “We thought it’d make it easier.”

“Maybe you should talk to your actual best friend again. I liked Chris too. Maybe he misses you just as much,” he said. “Long distance can work. De and I are experts.”

“Maybe I’ll call him,” you said. Your dad walked over as you saw the cruiser pull away. He took a seat next to you, resting his elbows on his knees. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you said.

“There’s going to be a bigger investigation at the school, see how far this goes,” he said. “I’m proud of you, for not letting him push you into something you didn’t want.”

“Yeah,” you said. Jensen excused himself and said he’d stop back later, your dad quiet for a few minutes when you were alone. “I think I’m gonna call Chris later. I feel kinda crappy and he was always good at making me feel better.”

“Okay,” he said. “I was gonna have Gen and the kids over for dinner but-”

“Have them over. You’re more shook up than I am,” you said. “I want them here.”

“Okay, baby. They can come.”

“Well someone looks happy,” said your dad when you snuck down around midnight for some ice cream. He and Gen were cuddled up on the couch, the kids long since passed out in the other guest rooms.

“Chris and I talked for a while. We’re uh, back together. He wants to go to UT next year too so we’re gonna try long distance in the meantime,” you said with a small smile.

“Good for you. Jensen and De got loads of tips on making it work too,” he said. “Maybe if you get some straight A’s your first quarter, a little plane ticket up to visit over winter break could be in order.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Really. Straight A’s though,” he said. You smiled and headed over to the freezer, grabbing a pint and a spoon, turning around to head back upstairs when you paused. “Yes?”

“Are we going to grandma and grandpa’s for thanksgiving next week?” you asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“Just curious,” you said, glancing at Gen quick.

“I see,” he said. “Well Gen and the kids are going to join us if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, cool,” you said with a nod. “Night.”

“Night baby.”

“Night, Y/N,” said Gen. You hopped up the stairs, pausing when you got out of view. “You think she wants us there?”

“Hey, eavesdropper,” he said as you froze. “I know you’re there. Come on back.”

You stepped down a few steps, glancing over at them. 

“Well?”

“I want them to come,” you mumbled, your dad putting a hand to his ear. “You’re a loser. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he chuckled as you went back up the stairs. “I told you she likes you guys.”

“I know. I just worry,” said Gen.

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t,” you called down. 

“I guess I won’t then,” she laughed. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“Night, Gen.”

Two Months Later

“You know, I don’t think I hate pink as much as I used to,” you said, Eric looking bored out of his mind from his chair across from you. “Pink’s not really a winter dance color though. Unless it was a very muted pink. I’m torn. What are your thoughts?”

“I think you’re being a little shit today,” he said, breaking into a smile. “Is a dress color really what’s on your mind?”

“Yeah. Chris is coming so I got to be able to tell him what color tie to wear so we match,” you said. “Or maybe just a flower, corsage thing.”

“White and silver are winter colors,” he said with a sigh.

“Yeah but then you blend in with everything. Come on Eric. I need a man’s perspective on this,” you said.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he chuckled. “Go with lilac. It doesn’t blend but it’s colorful and not too bright.”

“You’re right. You don’t get paid enough,” you said, getting a laugh out of him. “Lilac it is.”

“Well now that we’ve solved that problem, what else is going on? I feel like I’m pulling for stuff lately,” he said.

“Nothing really. I’m not as embarrassed to talk about what I’m feeling anymore and even if I am, I’ll push myself through it and it’s saving me a lot of stress and anxiety. I’m happy. I have Chris back, I’m going to UT in the fall for film. Gen and the kids are going to move in with us next month when her lease is up. I’m happier I guess,” you said.

“Tuesday’s only from now on,” he said with a smile. You cocked your head, Eric leaning forward in his seat. “We’re dropping our Thursday session. I don’t think you need it anymore. Once a week is good, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. I can still come right?” you asked.

“Of course. I’d definitely like us to keep a weekly session and when you start school in the fall, we’ll figure out the best day and time to do that for your classes. I mean, you’re not here against your will. Maybe that first session you felt like you were but I think you enjoy coming here and getting to vent, get a different opinion on things,” he said.

“I do. Maybe not at first but it’s good. Even if sometimes all I have to complain about is dress colors,” you said.

“Some days I wish all of my patients would only have that as their complaint,” he joked. “So you mentioned Gen and the kids are going to be moving in soon. You want to tell me anything about that?”

“Not really sure what you want me to say,” you said. 

“It can be good news,” he said. “Does that make you happy?”

“Yeah. They spent the holidays with us and the kids call me big sister now,” you said, ducking your head down.

“Do you like being a big sister?” he asked.

“Yeah. Not really sure what I’m doing but it’s not weird or awkward. We all get along. I actually miss them sometimes,” you said.

“Well they’re your family,” he said.

“I think dad’s thinking of asking Gen to move in permanently if this goes well. The next few months I mean,” you said.

“Marriage?” he asked and you nodded. “Would you be okay with that? Your dad getting married?”

“Yeah. I like that there’s someone around to take care of him. Uncle Jensen always does a good job of that but he goes home to his own house and he can’t always be around. Gen’s...there. She was a little hurt too and they just get each other. It’s nice having her around,” you said.

“For your dad or for you?” he asked.

“I think at first for him but now both of us,” you said.

“Good. I’m glad,” he said. “It sounds like you two get along. It’s probably a little strange for her to suddenly have an older child in her life.”

“I know it is. But she got used to it pretty quick I think,” you said.

“So anything else on your mind?” he asked.

“Prom’s in three months. We should definitely discusses that,” you said, Eric groaning as you laughed. “I’m just kidding.”

“Alright, smartass. Anything else burning at you or do you want to end early today?” he asked.

“I’m good. I’ll see you next Tuesday then?” you asked.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday kid,” he said. “I still want you doing your homework.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Y/N,” said your dad a few days later, walking straight into your room without knocking. You lifted your head up from your english paper, your dad stealing your computer away. 

“I was-” you said as he stood there, opening up his palm, showing you a razor blade. One with a dried red edge. “Dad.”

“Show me your arms,” he said. You pushed up the sleeves of your sweatshirt, watching him nod. “Change into shorts and show me.”

“Dad I didn’t,” you said. He stared at you, lifting his chin. “Dad. I didn’t. I swear. Please believe me. I’m doing good. Eric even dropped me down to once a week. I wouldn’t.”

“It was in the bottom of the dryer,” he said. 

“Dad, I swear on my life it’s not mine,” you said.

“Well it’s not mine,” he said. “Considering we’re the only two people that live here, I say somebody’s lying.”

“You almost died because I did that. It took me a month to be able to even shave in the shower without being sick to my stomach. Don’t you dare think I would ever let that happen again. I would talk to you. I would talk to someone,” you said. He stared at you and then the blade.

“I believe you,” he said. “But it doesn’t explain where it came from.”

“Well what did you wash?” you asked.

“Some of your old sports stuff I was going to donate,” he said. You tilted your head and scrunched up your face.

“My old school hoodie was in there, wasn’t it,” you said.

“Yeah. It was. I thought you threw away the blade,” he said.

“I did. I...I got the first one from woodshop before soccer practice one day. I did the cuts and I thought I lost it in the girls locker room so I stole another which I used for the other time. That’s the one I threw away. I thought the first one was gone,” you said.

“Why don’t we throw out this one too?” he said with a smile. You nodded and went downstairs with him, letting him hand it over to you before you chucked it in the trashcan outside. “Good girl. You scared me for a minute there.”

“I’m not perfect but no one is. I’m never doing that again no matter what. I promise,” you said. 

“Okay,” he said. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What?” you asked as you headed back inside.

“I heard from your birth mom yesterday,” he said. 

“And,” you said dryly.

“She’d like to meet you,” he said.

“She wants to meet me,” you laughed, running your hand through your hair. “That’s rich.”

“I got the feeling it wasn’t from a place of...genuinely wanting to have a relationship,�� he said.

“I turn eighteen soon. I bet she thinks I get access to some kind of trust fund. I wonder what she wants,” you said, walking around the kitchen island. “You know what? Tell her she had her chance. She had her chance for nearly eighteen years. She gave me up and that was her choice. It’s mine to say no too.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’ve got a mom. Tell her I don’t need another one, especially one like her,” you said. 

“Just because I think she’s up to something doesn’t mean she is. All you wanted when you were a little girl was to know your mom,” he said.

“I am not a little girl anymore. I got over the fact she didn’t want me a long time ago. You know who I want to know? Gen. I want to know more about her. She actually talks to me and takes an interest in me and it’s not just because of you. She cares about me. That kind of woman is my mother. Not some bitch that sees a money train coming her way,” you said.

“You don’t call people bitch,” he said.

“I know it got nasty those first few days after I was born. I’ve talked to grandma and grandpa. She was a bitch to you. Not being ready to be a mom is one thing. Saying all the shit she did to you is another,” you said. “I know she tried for three days to try and get you to give me up for her. Why on earth would I ever want to speak to someone like that? I don’t care if she’s changed or if she’s genuine. I don’t want her in my life.”

“It’s your choice,” he said with a nod. “I never knew you were this angry about it.”

“I’m not angry, dad. I’m just amazed that she thinks she can manipulate me. I’m smart because of you. I can see through her bullshit. She’s just nothing to me, plain and simple. I never had a mom, not until recently and I’m okay with that. I just don’t want her to bother me.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks,” you said, heading back for your room. 

“You think of Gen as your mom?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, looking over your shoulder. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “Yeah, that’s really okay.”

“You’re gonna marry her someday, aren’t you,” you said.

“I don’t know. We got to see how this living together thing goes first,” he said.

“You’re gonna marry her,” you said with a smile.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because you love her and she gets you,” you said.

“Maybe. Let’s not use the M word around Gen though. I don’t want to freak her out,” he said.

“You guys love each other. Why wouldn’t you get married?” you asked. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“Just keep a lid on it for now. Like I said, we’ll see how moving in goes first,” he said. “Please?”

“I won’t say anything,” you said. He nodded and you headed back upstairs. You finished with your english paper half an hour later and wandered out to the guest rooms, leaning in the doorway of one.

“What are you doing?” he asked, carrying the laundry basket down the hall to your room.

“We should probably empty the rooms out,” you said.

“I was planning on shoving the furniture in storage for now,” he said. “That won’t take too long. Maybe a day but Jensen and I can do that one day while you’re at school.”

“Odette should get this room. It has its own bathroom. The boys can share the hallway one,” you said.

“Probably a good idea,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “What are you thinking? You want to paint it pink?”

“No,” you laughed. “I was just thinking, we could do something to make it easier, you know? They’ve moved a few times already the past few years. It’s hard when you’re a kid.”

“You done with your paper?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a smile. “Give me ten minutes and then we can take a ride to the store, see if big sister can’t pick some homecoming presents for ‘em.”

One Month Later

“Odette,” you laughed, picking her up off of your bed. “You gotta sleep in your room.”

“This is my room,” she giggled.

“No,” you said, picking her up and settling her on your hip. You carried her a little down the hall and set her down, Odette running over to her toddler bed and hoping up. “You like your new room?”

“Uh huh. It’s so big!” she said. 

“I know,” you said, Odette giving her new teddy bear you’d picked out for her a death grip of a hug. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

“Okay. I love you!” she said.

“I love you too,” you said, giving her a quick hug before you left and pulled her door shut. You wandered out to your loft area, surprisingly not yet filled with toys but the boys were sat in front of the TV playing a racing game, despite being put to bed half an hour before. “Sup guys. Aren’t you two supposed to be in bed?”

“Don’t tell,” said Tom. 

“Yeah, don’t tell,” said Shep.

“I won’t if I get to play,” you said. They quickly looked at each other and soon you had a remote in your hand. Fifteen minutes later you saw Gen poke her head in, frowning at the boys. 

“Bed you two,” she said. They both groaned but did as told, telling you goodnight as she put them back to bed.

“How’s it going up here?” asked your dad as he came upstairs, taking a seat on the couch beside you.

“All three of them are excited. Odette’s out cold. The boys just wanted to play a little longer,” you said.

“They’re both down,” said Gen, sitting down on your other side when she returned. “Oh boy, I hope they weren’t beating you too badly.”

“I was in first thank you very much,” you said.

“Ah, come on. They’re little boys. You ain’t going to let ‘em win a few rounds?” asked your dad.

“There’s no loyalties in Mario Kart. You know that. Besides, they won some too. They can actually race unlike someone I know,” you said.

“Oh really?” he said, grabbing one of the remotes, tossing the other to Gen. “Loser does laundry for the week.”

“Deal,” you said.

“Is this really how you guys do chores?” asked Gen.

“Sometimes,” said Jared, Gen raising an eyebrow before smirking. “Don’t tell me you’re secretly good at this.”

“Me with three kids? No. Never.”

“Fell in love with a liar,” said your dad when you were heading to bed, Gen giggling as she poked him in the chest. 

“You lost fair and square,” she said.

“Doesn’t feel like I lost,” he said. You shook your head and went down the hall, getting a goodnight from them both. You smiled as you crawled in bed, spotting a text from Chris saying goodnight. You shot him back one, setting your phone aside as you settled in for some sleep.

Five Months Later

“Alright,” said your dad, standing in the kitchen, messing with his tie again, his groomsmen all groaning at him. “Did I do it again?”

“Yes,” you growled, walking over and undoing it for him again. “Stop touching.”

“Sorry. Never done this before,” he said, lifting his chin as you fixed it for him.

“We’ll I’ve never been in a wedding before so relax,” you said, smoothing down his coat when he finished. “Okay?”

“Yeah, cool as a cucumber,” he said. You gave him a smile and spun around. “You almost ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready,” you said. “Already got my before pictures done by the photographer too.”

“So nothing to do but kill time,” he said. Jensen nodded outside and you grabbed your dad’s hand, pulling him out the back door and over towards the pool. You kicked off your heels and pulled up your dress, sticking your feet in the water. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you busy,” you said, kicking your feet lightly. He chuckled and took a seat, peeling off his socks and shoes. He rolled up his pants and stuck his feet in, a bit of tension running out of him. “What are you worried about?”

“You know in an hour, it’s not just us anymore, kiddo,” he said.

“It was never just us,” you said.

“I guess you really did grow up,” he said.

“Well you got another fifteen years before Odette’s my age,” you said. 

“Don’t remind me,” he laughed. “Well, even if you are oldest now, you’re still my baby girl.”

“Never would have guessed,” you said, earning a shoulder bump from him. “Aren’t you glad I texted Gen now?”

“I was glad back then. I couldn’t exactly say that though. Teachable moment and all that,” he said. “But yes, I’m very happy you went behind my back and did that. You happy to have a bigger family now?”

“I’m glad you got somebody to look out for you and Gen’s got somebody that’ll do that for her. The kids have a dad that actually loves them now. I’m pretty happy,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. “I know this all came together pretty fast but I do have a surprise for you later today.”

“You could always tell me early?” you said, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, kiddo,” you heard Jensen say. He spun his keys in his hands, giving you a smile. “Your dad looks like he’s still a bit nervous. Want to drive him today?”

“I thought I was riding with…” you trailed off, noticing it was a much older style key he was playing with. “No way.”

“What the hell,” he said with a smile. “You want to take Baby for a spin or what?”

“Fuck yeah,” you said, pulling your feet out of the pool, getting a laugh from them both. “Come on. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

“Alright,” said your dad as he stood up, letting you pull him to his feet. “Just don’t scratch her. We wouldn’t want to see Uncle Jensen blow a fuse.”

“It’s just a car,” he said. “But seriously, don’t scratch her.”

“I won’t,” you said, taking the keys from his hands. “Come on. We got a wedding to go to.”

“Excuse me,” you heard that night. You broke away from Chris, smiling when you saw your dad. “Like your surprise?”

“He’s alright,” you said, Chris smirking at you. 

“Thanks for inviting me, Mr. Padalecki,” he said.

“Well I know you two don’t get to see each other that often. I figure this will hold you over until you move down for school in a month,” he said. 

“We appreciate it,” you said, giving Chris a quick kiss. 

“I’m glad. Now come on and give your old man a dance,” he said.

“Dad, I don’t dance,” you said.

“Yes you do. Normally it’s when you think you’re home alone but you do,” he said. You shook your head and let him pull you over to the dance floor, noticing the song change and people move off. You saw Gen dancing nearby with the other kids, your head cocking. “I got to embarrass you when I can. It’s in the dad handbook.”

“Loser,” you said with a smile.

“I learned it from you,” he said giving it right back. “You got your sandals on now?”

“I ditched the heels as soon as I could,” you said.

“Good. Hold on,” he said. He spun you around one and then twice, pulling you back into his chest. 

You felt a hand tap your shoulder, Gen taking hold of your hand as your dad took hold of Odette and spun her around, giving the boys a turn each. You were laughing when you were spun around to face a photographer, all six of you in the shot before the song changed again and people started to come back. 

“Thanks for the dance, baby,” he said.

“...Maybe one more,” you said, getting an eyebrow raise from him. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I’ll pretend not to,” he laughed. “You owe Chris a dance too I would think.”

“Oh, he’s different. He hates dancing more than I do,” you said.

“So you force him to dance,” he said.

“Naturally,” you said.

“That’s my girl.”

Three Months Later

“Mom! Y/N’s being gross!” shouted Tom.

“Stay out of my room and you won’t have to see it,” you said, Chris laughing when Tom went back in his room with a sigh.

“If you two are gonna make out, could you shut the door at least?” asked your dad with a sigh when he looked down the hall.

“I thought there was a no doors shut with boys in the room rule,” you said.

“For all our sakes, please shut the door,” he said. 

“What about that sleepover rule?” you asked.

“Lil Pads…” he said, narrowing his eyes. 

“We’ll just stay in your dorm room,” you whispered, Chris chuckling until he caught your dad’s face. “What?”

“I don’t want to know,” he said. “Aren’t you two supposed to be studying anyways?”

“We did,” you said.

“Mhm,” said your dad. “Try not to scar your little brother too much, okay?”

“What’s the fun in that?” you said. 

“Little brothers are very fun to torture,” said Chris.

“I suppose you could have fallen in love with a worse boy,” sighed your dad.

“Can you go be sappy somewhere else?” you asked.

“Yes actually. I came up here to ask a favor. Babysit tonight?” he asked.

“Chris can sleepover tonight?” you asked.

“He can sleep on the floor,” he said.

“Deal,” you said. 

“You’re watching the Ackles crew too,” he said.

“We can handle it,” you said. “Have fun.”

“We will,” he said. “I left takeout money on the counter.”

“Thank you very much,” you said, giving him a smile.

“Alright, alright. Go back to whatever you were doing,” he said as he pulled the door shut for you.

“Now, where were we?”

Jared’s POV

“You’re not gonna turn on the back lights or anything are you?” asked Gen that night. I chuckled and shook my head, staring out the bedroom window down at the pool. 

“No. They’re both eighteen. They’re adults,” I said, smirking as Y/N and Chris hopped back and forth between playing in the shallow end and kissing obnoxiously. “Can’t blame ‘em for doing what we’ve done plenty of times.”

“She really likes him you know,” said Gen, tugging on my arm away from the window, pulling the curtains shut.

“She loves him. That’s what scares me,” I said.

“Why?” she asked as she pulled off her shirt.

“I thought I had that at her age,” I said. 

“You didn’t have that, Jared,” she said. 

“I’ve certainly never felt like I did when I met you,” I said. “She’s just so young. She and Chris dated from the time she was fifteen and they took about six months off. I just…”

“You think those two are the real deal?” asked Gen.

“Yeah. I know they are,” I said with a sigh. “She is not getting married until she graduates from college though.”

“I think you got time,” she said. “A lot can happen in four years.”

“A lot can happen in a year,” I said with a smile, sitting down on the bed, Gen walking in front of me and wrapping me up in a hug. “You know we only met because Y/N and I were driving back from therapy...that stemmed from the fact she wanted me to find someone.”

“Life’s funny,” said Gen. “She’s had a rough year...and a good year.”

“Sometimes I wonder how much I screwed up,” I said. “But sometimes I’m glad I whacked my head. She got help, we got you, three more munchkins...she got her boyfriend back.”

“You didn’t screw up. She’s pretty great...even if she did ruin our after date plans like that,” laughed Gen.

“Eh, we could just make out in our comfy bed though,” I said, grabbing her hips and picking her up onto the bed.

“That is an excellent idea,” she said, lowering her head just as a knock came at the door. 

“Duty calls,” I said. I rolled off the bed and unlocked the door, Odette standing there in her pajamas, Y/N’s door just barely closing, the two of them giggling as I saw the water in the hall. “Nightmare?”

“Daddy, there’s a monster in the closet,” she said.

“You know I used to kill monsters professionally,” I said.

“Really?” she asked, Y/N’s door opening. Her hair was wet and she had on one of Chris’ sweatshirts as she wiped up the floor, giving us both a look.

“Daddy’s really good at getting rid of monsters,” she said with a smile, quickly ducking in the laundry room.

“Well you heard your sister,” I said, following Odette back to her room, nearly bumping into Y/N once I got Odette back to sleep. “Enjoy your swim?”

“Mhm,” she said. She paused and gave me a big hug.

“What’s that for?”

“It was a year ago. When you fell,” she said. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “Promise.”

“Good,” she said as she pulled back. “Night dad.”

“Night baby,” I said as she slipped back in her room. I checked on the others quick before heading back to the bedroom, smiling as I grabbed Gen and pulled her into a deep kiss. “I love you so much. I love all of you so fucking much.”

“I’ll take it you had a good year yourself,” she laughed.

“Best year ever.”

______

#supernatural #spn #jared x daughter!reader #jared fanfiction #jared padalecki #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #au #rpf

[maggotzombie]

ROOMIES: three. duties.

→ CHAPTERS LIST – TWO. LOVERS. WORD COUNT: 3,5k A/N: Took me long enough to release this one, huh? My bad, I completely forgot about it.

MAYA PLOPS down on the sofa tired and sweaty. The apartment was so dirty and messy when she got up that there was no option but to clean it. Thinking about that now, she frowns; it's Shannon's week of cleaning and it seemed like a hurricane had gone through the place.

But now everything is in the right place and it smells like flowers, literally.

Maya hears the door opens and she stays on the sofa, too tired to move. "I'm home!" Jared shouts from the door. "Someone's home?"

"Yes," She says quietly, not even in the mood.

"Hey, sis," Jared says, kissing Maya's head before plopping down on the sofa next to her.

"Hi, Jay," She replies tiredly, glancing at him quickly. "Don't even think about leaving these socks there, I've just cleaned up the whole place," She says, watching him remove his shoes. "And do me a favor, stop throwing them under the bed, it's disgusting."

The woman couldn't even tell what she has found in Jared and Shannon's room while cleaning it. The only places obligatory for cleaning are the common areas, the rooms are out of the jurisdiction, they're not even allowed to get into each other's room without permission. So, the brothers pay her to do that because if it isn't for her, their rooms would be always dirty.

"Okay," Jay nods with a smile. "Why are you cleaning anyway? I thought it was Shannon's week."

"You know, I just realized that but it seemed like the place hasn't been cleaned in weeks!" Maya says and he shrugs off.

"Maybe he's just too busy," He says, trying to defend his brother.

Just as Maya opens her mouth to give a sarcastic reply to Jared, Shannon's storms into the apartment, looking like he wasn't having a good day. He throws his stuff on the dining table and opens the fridge, taking a beer bottle from it.

"Hello to you, too," Maya greets wryly.

Shannon turns to look at them, death in his eyes. "What is it? I'm not in the mood," He says harshly.

Maya quirks an eyebrow. "You're not in the mood? Just so you know, I've cleaned the whole apartment for you," She points out.

"So? Didn't ask you to," Shannon replies, walking towards his room.

Her mouth drops open in surprise. "You know, when someone does something for another, the correct is a "thank you"," Maya shouts to him.

"Again: didn't ask you to!" The older Leto shouts before slamming his door shut.

Maya scoffs. "Unbelievable," She stands up, shaking her head. "Better get your shit together, Shannon! I told you two on the first day that I won't be your fucking maid!" Maya says loudly, slamming her own door shut.

She takes a shower still surprised by Shannon's antics. Of course, she already knew that he is a fucking prick when he's pissed but so is she. And if they both start to mess with Maya, her response is gonna be just as good, they are quite aware of that.

Neither Jared nor Shannon are in the living room when Maya leaves her bedroom. She makes a beeline towards the door and goes to work. The time goes by smoothly, without too many problems, which makes Maya's mood a little better, and the night's classes don't give her the usual headaches.

"Okay, where you want to meet to get this done already?" Maya asks her classmates, glancing up from her fruit salad during the break.

A professor had given the class a small paper and Maya couldn't think about anything but that.

The woman across from her shrugs. "I think we all live in small dorms. There isn't enough space in those cubicles for two people, let alone for six," She scoffs.

"Yeah, and we can't actually talk in the library, so..." Another says.

Maya chews for a bit before realizing what they are implying. "You want to do this in my place?" She asks anyway, looking around the table.

"I mean, I think it's the only place that has space enough for all us," The woman by her side argues.

"Mhm," Shan nods, squinting her eyes. "And this has nothing to do with Jay and Shan?"

"Nooo, not at all," The other five women say in unison.

"Right... You do realize they have, like, lives and jobs of their own and don’t stay home all the time?" She tries again, knowing that the brothers are the reason they want to go to her apartment.

"Look, Maya, this has nothing to do with the Letos," The woman one across from her says. "It's just the place that better fits us all, simply," She says and the others nod in agreement.

"Okay," Maya shrugs, shaking her head.

The women's face goes from surprised by Maya's answer to super excited and they have to mask up the smiles. Maya just wants to laugh at them for the bit of hope in seeing Jared or Shannon while working on the paper, but all she cares about is to do it as soon as possible. So, she arranges the meeting in her apartment on a Thursday that works better for their schedules.

Maya finds out on the weekend that the apartment was so dirty because in the previous week – Jared's week – it wasn't cleaned either. She is pissed for a few minutes but her mind quickly plans another payback. Her week comes around and she completes her tasks normally, as nothing out the ordinary happened. She cleans the boys' room, hers and the rest of the apartment, does the laundry, wash the dishes and everything.

When Jared's week comes again, Maya observes silently. He doesn't do his tasks, as predicted, but she simply doesn't do anything either. Maya keeps her own room organized and clean, does her own laundry, washes her own dishes to eat, and that's how it goes.

In the day the girls are scheduled to come, Maya warns the brothers once again and feels obliged to clean the place. Both Jared and Shannon assures her that they won't bother her or even be home. At first, the girls are disappointed when Maya greets them at the door, alone. Quickly, the dining table is filled with papers, the six women are seated discussing and writing down, all engrossed in work.

Fifteen minutes into that and the door opens. The girls haven't noticed yet, but Maya has. Only by the way he walks, Maya can tell it's Shannon. It takes two seconds for him to show up and he frowns, looking at the crowded dining table. Maya knows he has forgotten and the other women notice his presence when he talks.

"Oh, hello," He greets, opening his perfect smile.

"Hi," The women reply in unison, some with a sigh and others hold their breaths as he makes his way towards the table, straight to Maya.

"Hey, sis," Shannon kisses Maya's head, ‘embracing’ her briefly with one arm.

"Hi, Shan," She gives him a kind smile.

"I know I've told you I wouldn't be home, and I'm probably interrupting," He says, looking at the papers scattered around.

"No, no, you're not, don't worry," The girls are quick in replying, making Shan smile.

"I'll just take a shower and leave," He finishes, looking back at Maya.

"Okay," She nods, not saying anything else.

He smiles again. "Alright," Shannon bends down and kisses Maya's cheek, before moving away. "Excuse me," He says, leaving the room.

Maya looks at her colleagues all staring at Shannon's ass with happy and somehow satisfied faces. "Do you guys need a moment to recompose or what?" She asks, making all of them whip their heads around to look at her.

Smiles fade at Maya's raised eyebrow and the serious environment returns immediately until Jared storms into the apartment. She literally rolls her eyes at her notebook, sighing.

"Oh fuck," Jared curses, seeing the crowded table. "Sorry, babe, I forgot," He says, walking towards the table.

"I've realized," She says under her breath.

"Hello, ladies," Jared smiles them, kissing Maya's cheek too. "Don't worry, I'll shower and leave faster than Flash,"

"You're not interrupting, don't worry," The girls reply and Maya rolls her eyes again.

"Oh, sweet," He smiles, before excusing himself.

Jared's door slams closed, Shannon hasn't come out yet and Maya is able to make her colleagues focused for more twenty minutes. "Maya," Shannon calls, opening his door.

"Oh, fucking God!" She complains, raising her head and looking at the ceiling before focusing on a shirtless and shoeless Shannon. "What is it?"

"I don't have clean shirts and socks," He says, looking at her.

"And what the hell do I have to do with that?" Maya asks.

Shannon frowns, not caring about all the women staring at him with a different range of expressions on their faces. "I figured..." He starts.

"No," She interrupts him. "Get Jared's," Maya looks down at her notebook, ending the conversation.

Shannon growls but doesn't protest, turning around. Not enough time passes by for Jared to show up with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp and droplets all over his torso. There's a chorus of sighs and Maya doesn't look up this time.

"Maya, I don't have clean underwear and socks and shirts," He says, hands on his hips.

"Then maybe you should do laundry," Maya says simply, still writing.

"Why didn't you did it?" Jared asks harshly, but regrets as soon as she raises her head.

"Excuse me?" The woman asks, not a good face, that infamous eyebrow up.

He loses his composure and attitude. "Uh... I mean..." Jared rambles. "Is your week, right?" He opens a sheepish smile, trying to make things better.

"No, it's your week," Maya corrects, not slightly happy. "Do you need anything else?" She asks harshly.

"N-no, that's all," Jared mutters, feeling uncomfortable.

"Good, get the fuck outta my face," She says.

If he could disappear faster, Jared would have. In the end, neither one of them bothers Maya any further. She doesn't know or care if Jared was wearing pants without underwear or if both brothers were wearing dirty socks and shirts. They simply left fully clothed and she finishes the paper with the most satisfied women ever for seeing one brother half-undressed and the other nearly naked.

The next morning she seats in the kitchen's countertop, sipping from her yogurt as she scrolls through her phone. Shannon wishes her good morning and opens the cabinet to get a mug but finds it completely empty and the sink full of dishes.

"Oh, good Lord, what a fucking mess!" He complains, taking a mug from the very bottom of the sink and making the dishes on top of it collapses down right on his hand. "Motherfucker! Goddamn! Fuck, Fuck! Shit! Asshole! Cocksucker!" Shannon curses loudly, holding his own hand.

Maya watches silently as Shannon paces back and forth, still naming all the swear words that ever existed. Along with that, there's a yelp and a loud thump coming from Jared's room before the door gets jerked open and he comes out of it running.

"A fucking huge cockroach just ran over me," He says, fear in his face.

"Why don't you wash these fucking dishes?" Shannon hisses. "Look at this, a freaking mess!"

"Why don't you do it?" Jared retorts.

"It's your goddamn week!" The older brother argues.

The younger scoffs. "Like you're doing something on your week."

"That's not the damn point! If you were cleaning like you are supposed to, a fucking huge cockroach wouldn't have run over you," Shannon slams his hand in the sink.

The woman places her empty glass on the counter and takes her purse and notebook. The brothers are in a heated argument when she slips out of the apartment, getting a taxi to her morning classes. Maya doesn't see them in the hallways or at lunch and when she returns home after work, it's exactly like she left.

The sink is full of dishes, there's oatmeal all over the countertop with empty packs of every kind of things. On the corner, there are empty beer bottles on the floor. The living room looks like a shoe shop and all the socks in the world are probably there. There’s a blanket on one of the sofas and Maya gets a glimpse of pink underwear.

Making a disgusted face, she rushes towards her clean and organized bedroom, where she spends the most the time now. An hour later, Leo arrives and Maya takes him directly to her room, closing the door behind her. He's the one lucky guy that has piqued her curiosity and they’ve been seeing each other for weeks now. To be quite honest, Maya got interested in him because he's not jealous or intimidated by Shannon or Jared.

There's a knock on her door in the exact moment Maya is on top Leo, making out with him, her shirt is long gone. "Maya," Jared sticks his head inside, looking at her. "We need to talk," He announces, not slightly bothered by the scene in front of him.

She sighs, looking at the man below her. "Hold that thought for a sec," She says, pecking his lips quickly and leaving the bed.

Leo doesn't have time to say to her to put a shirt on before leaving because Maya is already in the living room, wearing only denim shorts and turquoise lace bra. Shannon looks at her and frowns, but he shakes his head and Jared stops by his side.

"What is it? Be quick, I was in the middle of something." She says.

"Right, I'll make it real short: we can't live like this," Shannon says quickly.

Maya frowns. "Like what?" She shakes her head.

"In this mess!" Jared motions around and she rolls her eyes. "No, don't roll your eyes at me. It's disgusting, it's starting to smell like there's a corpse in the bathroom and I don't want to wear a dirty shirt ever again."

"You are cleaning only your room and doing only your laundry," Shannon points out.

"Yeah," Maya nods. "I also wash the dishes I need to eat," She adds.

"This is very selfish of you," Jared says. "We live together for Christ's sake."

Shannon gives Jared a dirty look and Maya quirks an eyebrow at him, but shakes her head, sighing. "Look, I really don't wanna fight over this anymore. On the very first day we moved in together, we established very simple ground rules and we all agreed upon it. One of these rules is the cleaning schedule. I don't know or care who was the first who stopped following it but I also said I ain't gonna be your fucking maid," Maya points out, looking at both brothers. "It's not because I'm a woman that I have to clean and cook for you, and if you two start to expect these things of me, I won't be that person." She says. "We're not in the ‘70s anymore, women go to college and have jobs. Don't expect your future wives to sit around and wait for you, they won't do that either," Maya adds. "Another thing; we also established one rule saying no sex is allowed in common areas and there's a fucking pantie right beside Shannon," She points out and both brothers look at it. "So, don't try to lecture me about who is being selfish or not, I won't do my tasks if you're not doing yours."

Both brothers don't have what to say as they know they’re the wrong ones. So, they just stay in silence, looking at her.

"Anything else?" She asks and when none of them replies, she nods. "Okay."

Maya returns to her room and Leo is on his phone but he forgets it quickly. "Everything okay?" He asks.

She shrugs. "Yeah, just an unscheduled house meeting," She says, climbing on the bed. "Wanna get out of here?" Maya rests her chin on his chest.

"What you have in mind?" Leo asks, playing with her hair.

"Dinner," Maya says. "And then, we can go to your place and you know, discuss that thought," She smirks and bites her bottom lip.

"Let's go," He says, standing up.

Maya chuckles and dresses her shirt, slipping into a pair of Vans. She takes her purse and a jacket, following Leo out of her room and closing the door behind her. The couple bids goodbye to the brothers in the living room and leave.

As soon as the door closes, Shannon looks at Jared and the younger brother nods. With that, they stand up and go find weapons. Some seconds later, both are armed with cleaning gloves, aprons, brushes, squeegees, buckets, vacuum and everything else. They start with their own rooms: dirty clothes are gathered in a huge pile, bed sheets are changed, garbage is dumped in a bag, and cockroaches are killed.

While the washing machine works, the dishes are washed and put away, the countertop is cleaned and so is the fridge. There is a rock-paper-scissors moment to decide who's gonna clean the common bathroom while the other vacuums the entire apartment; Shannon wins and Jared has to clean the bathroom while trying to hold his vomit in.

Quickly the apartment is smelling like flowers, something that hasn't happened for over a month. Jared and Shannon are both exhausted but very pleased with their work. But before parting ways to their bedrooms for a shower, they reorganize the cleaning schedule again, to work this time.

In the meanwhile, Maya has a quiet romantic dinner with Leo. Then they go to his place and watch Netflix before falling asleep. In the morning, Maya fulfills her promise before going back to her apartment. The fresh smell of cleaning products and air freshener fills her nostrils as soon as Maya opens the front door.

Out of habit, she takes a deep breath, trying to take it all in. In the kitchen, Jared and Shannon are sitting on the countertop. As always, Jared has an oatmeal bowl and Shannon has his coffee mug. They are all smiling, talking about the girls they shared.

"Kate or Katherine... Or Karen..." Jared makes a face, trying to remember the girl's name.

"Med school?" Shannon asks.

"Yeah, yeah!" The younger nods.

Shan nods too. "Did that one, too."

"Good one," Jared recalls.

"Are you two doing that again?" Maya asks, making both of them turn their heads to look at her. "Already told you that's disgusting," She remarks, walking into the kitchen.

"Hey! Good morning, sis!" Jared smiles at her.

She opens a side smile. "Morning, bros."

Shannon kisses the top of her head and gives her a mug. "It's just the way you like it," He winks at her, motioning to the coffee.

"Mhm..." Maya hums, filling the mug.

"Had a good night?" Jared asks, mouth full.

"Yeah, slept a lot," She nods, sipping from the drink. "Perfect, Shan."

He smiles at her compliment. "But I thought you were in the middle of something last night..." Shannon recalls, making a face.

Maya raises her eyebrows before taking off her jacket. "Well, I keep my promises," She says, pulling her shirt down to show more skin.

The boy's eyes look at the hickeys spread on and near to her breasts, the purple marks almost imperceptible in the brown skin. "How old is this guy? Fifteen?" Jared scolds.

"So, it's serious then?" Shannon asks, looking at Maya.

"I mean," She starts, leaning on the countertop. "I like him. A lot. But I don't know if I want a serious relationship..."

"We don't..." Jared starts, shaking his head. "We don't give relationship advice..."

"For obvious reasons," Shannon completes, making Maya chuckle. "But we do punch guys that hurt our little sis," He says and Jared nods in agreement.

"I love you guys," She says, making a face.

"We love you, too," Jared winks at her. "So... We cleaned up," He says.

Maya looks around, everything organized and smelling good. "I've realized," She nods. "It smells amazing."

"We also reorganized the cleaning schedule," He adds. "Starting next week with Shan since today's Saturday."

"And we'll do our tasks and we won't break ground rules again," Shannon says.

"And we want to apologize for being assholes," Jared adds.

Maya opens a smile after a while. "I'm happy with that and I accept the apology," She nods with a smile. "But I want to know if we're going to Tomo's party today."

Shannon and Jared beam at her and they start to talk about the party. One minute into the argument if Maya should or not bring Leo to the party, Jared's phone buzzes beside his bowl. He takes it and kinda pales seeing the text he got.

"You okay, Jay?" Maya asks, realizing he is now silent.

Jared looks up at Shannon. "Mom's coming."

* * *

– FOUR. FAMILY.

#jared leto #shannon leto #thirty seconds to mars #30 seconds to mars #30stm #jared leto fanfiction #jared leto fanfic #jared leto imagine #jared leto x ofc #shannon leto fanfiction #shannon leto fanfic #shannon leto imagine #shannon leto x ofc #thirty seconds to mars fanfic #roomies

[takottais-oc-askblog]

Oc bullshittery pt.7

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

Bei: I trust flesh!

T.y: You think he knows what he's doing?

Bei: I'm not sure I'd go THAT far.

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

Rico: [Finds a crumpled up piece of paper] Hey, what’s this?

Quinncie: Oh, that’s my to-do list!

Rico: Wow, you’re being so productive, good for you, I never thought that–

Rico: [reads what on the list]

Rico: This only has my name on it...

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

T.y: What do you normally do when I’m gone?

Flesh: wait for you to come back...

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

Peach: why is Quinncie crying?

Elliott: He's drunk and saw a picture of Rico's boyfriend

T.y: But he is Rico's boyfriend

Elliott: Like I said, he's drunk

Quinncie: [crying on the floor in the fetal position]

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

Eva: [on day three of no sleep and forgetting to eat, looking completely dead inside] Self-care is for the WEAK!

Cake: [coughs]

Eva: [frantically swaddling her in blankets] We need an ambulance!!!

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

Flesh: [Talking about Eva] Don’t worry! She likes your butt and your fancy hair.

Cake: [As she runs her hand through her hair] She thinks it’s fancy?

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

Camie brown: Wait, you're gay? As in, gay...gay? As in, you like women?

Peak Lilly: I thought I was being...

Peak Lilly: Crystal queer

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

Bei: alright boys ready to g– Thomas where’s your vest?

Elliott: [smiling mischievously] yeah Thomas where’s your vest?

Diel: ...

Diel: about that..

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

Pimp: Quinncie, baby. How can I get back on your good side?

Quinncie: It’s gonna take about three weeks of not talking to me.

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

Peak Lilly: Why aren't the dishes in alphabetical order!?

Camie brown: WhAt thE FuCK dOeS thAT eVEn MEAn!?

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

Flesh: [being kidnapped] Will I need my toothbrush?

Kidnapper: Shut up!

Flesh: I'm assuming that means you'll be providing the toothbrush.

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

Bei: [on the TV] Boss won't get off your back? Girlfriend won't stop nagging you?

Bei: Did that fuckstick Eva sell you a bullshit dagger that broke almost immediately despite the fact that you spent half your goddamn savings on it?

Bei: Have you considered... murder?

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

My oc's as popular vines:

Quinncie: so no head?

T.y: what the Fuck is up Kyle?!

Peak Lilly: Look at all those chickens!

Flesh: Hi welcome to chilis

Chii: Fuck ya chicken strips!

Poppet: ThAtS My OpInIoN!!

Charlie: Chris is that a weed?!

Diel: what up I’m Jared, I’m 19, and I never fuckin learned how to read

Peach: Wooow

Bei: Ms Keisha? Ms Keishaaaa!? oh my fuckin god she fuckin dead!

Paston: Hi my name is Trey I have a basketball game tomorrow.

Camie brown: I wanna be a cowboy baby!

Elliott: Im a bad bitch you can’t kill me!!!

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

Flesh: [on the phone] dad? i need your help! Th–

Chii: is the apartment complex on fire?

Flesh: ...no?

Chii: then it’s not an emergency. [hangs up]

Dax: well?! what did he say? what do we do about the portal to hell in the living room?!

Flesh: [shrugs] apparently it’s not an emergency.

T.y: [being strangled by a demon] HOW THE FUCK IS THIS NOT AN EMERGENCY??

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

Diel: [muttering]

Bei: Diel what are you doing?

Diel: I’m having an argument with myself so I can finally win something for once.

Bei: would you mind not doing that right now? We need to be quite-

Diel: Well I actually would mind, because I’m losing right now.

Bei: How can you lose an argument to yourself?

Diel: the voices in my head decided to join in, and they’re making some pretty solid points on why I should just kill the bad guys and take their money.

Bei: well that’s........ mildly concerning...

Elliott: MILDLY????!?!!

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

Chii: In terms of instant relief canceling plans is like heroin.

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

Chii: I hope flesh liked the shirt I got him yesterday. Oh, he called.

Voice mail: You have 17 new messages.

Chii: What?!

Flesh: Hey dad, thanks for the Bazinga t-shirt it's… great. I was just calling because I might need a ride later tonight. T.y can’t drive and I ran iris's car into a ditch after we watched Fast Five on Netflix together.

Iris: You still owe me for that.

Flesh: Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Cars are really flammable, did you know that? I didn’t know that. Well, I do now.. but anyway I’ll call you later if we need a pick up from the show, alright?

T.y: [groans]

Flesh: t.y, you’re up! Talk to you later, dad!

Voice mail: End of Message.

Chii: I’m not listening to all of these.[skips to the last message]

Voice mail: Message 17.

[loud screaming of pure terror as a booming demonic roar pierces the air]

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

Rico: hey i used to b uglier believe it or not.

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Camie brown: What is the worst thing you've done sexually?

Charlie: .... I'm not sure what I'd want to call a worst..

Peak Lilly: A man..

Coccoh: pppfffttttt!

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Eva: Stay the fuck away from my man, I won’t tell you again!

T.y: BITCH! I don’t wan yo man. Nobody wants yo man. That’s why he’s wit you!

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

Peak Lilly: It was the 80s, we did a lot of drugs back in those days.

Bren: How could she even do drugs?! She's a fucking alien!

Camie brown: Your mother found a way.

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

Random cop: STOP RIGHT THERE! YOU ARE ALL MENACES TO SOCIETY!

T.y: [decks said cop]

Bei: why did you do that??????????

T.y: I am not emotionally involved in this situation!

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

Eva: i sleep with a bow and arrow under my bed.

Bei: oh yeah? i sleep with a gun under my pillow!

Ashton: weak! i sleep with a nanobotic suit ready to be equipped!

T.y: damn, you's all are paranoid as hell!

Eva: yeah? what do you sleep with?

T.y: Elliott.

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

Flesh: So how about a change of name?

Diel: You know, one that sounds marginally less like a porno than your current one!

Bei: [unsheathes sword]

Diel: [running away] You just had to open your mouth!

Flesh: [ducking under a blade swing] My mouth? My mouth?!! This is your fault!!!

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

Eva: [slides flip phone across floor] Fuck this and fuck you! You little spawn of Nokia!

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

Peach: I wonder why I don't like anything around my neck.

Poppet: maybe you were hung in a past life?

[heavy pause]

Peach: I THINK IT MIGHT JUST BE BECAUSE I'M AUTISTIC, POPPET!

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

Eva: -and that's why I think God doesn't exist!

Cake: sorry sugar, I wasn't listenin'.

Eva: what, why?

Cake: look hun, I just really want a cupcake

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

Paston: wow, that jacket is so soft that if someone hugged you they'd die on impact. And I have a deathwish! So come here!

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

Quinncie: [singing to the tune of "We Just Got a Letter" from Blue's Clues] I just got a message, I just got a message, I just got a message, and it's from your man!

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

T.y: Bitches be like "You mine".

T.y: First off I'm on probation, "I" belong to the state.

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

Bei: I was so angry at everything when i was 13. And i was right.

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

Bei: [get assigned a mission out of the city]

Bei: [drives off]

T.y: [storms into the apartment]

Rico: [sorting files]

Flesh: [at the computer]

Iris: [sharpening knives]

T.y: ATTENTION SIMPLETONS! Bei has JUST left the building!

Iris: ....

Flesh: ....

Rico: ....

T.y: and guess who’s been deputized as sheriff of this complex!

Rico: [hesitantly raises hand]

T.y: M E! 

Rico: [hand goes down]

T.y: now [presses play on bluetooth speaker] work bitches!

[Work Bitch by Britney Spears echoing throughout the apartment]

Flesh: uuuughhhh not agaaaaain–

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

Iris: [putting on makeup]

Flesh: [watching]

Flesh: Why do you use so many brushes for makeup?

Iris: Was Mona Lisa painted with one brush? 

Iris: NO!

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

Bei: [walks into the kitchen]

Apartment complex 404 Fam: [eating breakfast]

Bei: just a reminder; it’s Throat Punch Thursday

Bei: [leaves]

T.y: [checks imaginary watch] damn, that time again already ?

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

Quinncie: I made a fool of myself today and I will make a fool of myself tomorrow. Good night!

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

Eva: the only two important Michaels; Jordan and Jackson.

Peach: [while pulling out Michael Myers mask] wooooow aight bet–

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

T.y: they kicked me outta church bc i yelled “fuck the devil!” I thought we all hated that motherfucker!?

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

Peak Lilly: You know, one day you could be a great dad!

Chii: I already am.

Peak Lilly: flesh doesn't count.

Chii: HE IS MY CHILD!

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

Chii: so, what did I miss?

Dax: flesh died twice.

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

Diel: my goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me.

Bei: you can’t just say that every time you fail a mission.

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

Iris: wow i need a drink.

Iris: [pours chocolate milk into a shot glass]

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

Flesh: I think your calculations might have been off.

Diel: Well, they can't be off if I didn't do any.

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

Iris: [to Elliott] You... you... you rude person!

Dax: Go easy on him, iris.

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

T.y: [comes downstairs to find bei up and about]

T.y: wow you sure are quite the night person..

Bei: buddy I’m barley even a person!

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

Bei: No one expects an angel to set the world on fire. But than again I'm no angel.

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

T.y: oh yea? Well apparently, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!

T.y: [Points at flesh] But this one got ran over by a fuckin lawn mower!

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

Diel: I look like I'm supposed to be stalking senpai in this outfit.

Diel: Who's senpai? Hell if I know but I'm stalking him that's for sure.

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

Tag list: @nansblockit @ask-the-amazing-greenland @slasher-beware @ticket-to-ride13 @illwaitinthisplace

If you want to be tagged just comment on this post or shoot me an ask/message, have a wonderful day!

#oc bullshittery #oc bullshit #my oc shit #xzial'writes

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 17 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 17 of UNDONE, our slow burn Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link to the previous chapters.

Summary: After the burn comes the ashes. (AKA I’m so sorry...)

Thank you so much to the best and most patient betas! @jillybean2314 @sheofthethrone @kitschypixel @theartificialdane

TW: This story deals with themes of emotional abuse, and since that can be subtle, we’re going to keep a general TW on all of the chapters, even when it seems like it doesn’t apply.

***

Courtney’s not sure what she expects on Monday morning, but the sight of Bianca sitting calmly at her sewing machine in the wardrobe trailer is not it.

“Oh. Hey,” she says softly, letting the door fall shut behind her.

“Hey.” Bianca doesn’t look up.

“You’re here...”

Bianca sighs tiredly. “Yeah, where else would I be?”

Courtney swallows. She’d been torturing herself for the last 24 hours, trying to figure out what went wrong, where she’d fucked up. They were drinking all day; maybe Bianca was less with it than she’d appeared? The thought of her feeling used, or taken advantage of, or...worse. Courtney can barely breathe, but she tries valiantly to keep things light.

“Well, I dunno, I thought maybe you skipped town,” Courtney forces out a gentle chuckle. “I mean, I woke up, and you were-”

“Can we please not talk about this here?” Bianca snaps.

Courtney closes her mouth. “Sorry.”

Bianca nods, tossing her a dress from the rack. “Here.”

“Don’t you need to-”

“It’s already been altered. Jamie can take your picture.” Bianca goes back to the sewing machine, and Courtney backs away, her only thought a frantic concern about how to fix this, how to get back to what they were before.

***

Courtney spends all night tossing and turning, wracked with guilt and shame, mind racing. She finally manages to fall asleep as the sun is coming up, and it’s almost noon when Adore flings open Courtney’s bedroom door, hopping up onto her bed.

“Hey bitch! Thanks for letting me crash. We missed you at Roosterfish last night.”

“Mmm…”

“You’re being lazy today; you never sleep in.”

Courtney groans, covering her face with a pillow. “I know, I missed SoulCycle. Don’t remind me.”

“Ha! You fat fuck.” Adore climbs under the covers, wrapping her arms around Courtney’s waist. “What’s your call time?”

“Five,” Courtney yawns.

“Mine’s three. Wanna drive together? You’ll be way early but you can just go to wardrobe and flirt with your girlfriend.”

Courtney casts her eyes upwards at the ceiling, where her fan rotates slowly. “Umm...I don’t know if that’s such a great idea…”

“Why not?”

“Well...I may have done something...sort of stupid…”

Adore’s eyes glitter mischievously, thirsty for gossip. “What did you do?”

“So...you know how Bianca invited me to that party on Saturday?”

“Yeah?”

“Well...I may have had kind of a lot to drink. And…”

“Spill it, whore.”

“I went home with them.” Courtney bites her lip.

“Home with…‘them’? Like…” It takes Adore a minute to catch on to what Courtney is telling her, but when she does, her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open in shock and delight. “You WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Courtney looks up at Adore with a sheepish expression, not wanting to elaborate too much.

“Wait a second…” Adore shakes her head. “What…actually happened? You’re gonna have to spell it out for me because I’m a little bit...in shock.”

“Ummm...well…”

Adore grasps her by the arm. “Did you have sex with her?”

Courtney nods.

“Like actual sex? Ate her pussy, made her come...”

“Yes, Adore, but-”

“Did she reciprocate?!”

“Yeah,” Courtney says softly, hugging her pillow.

“...And? Omigod, this is fucking amazing. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on telling me! Fuck. How was it?”

“I...what can I say, Adore? She’s...she’s perfect, and amazing, and even better than I ever imagined, and...have you ever just wanted to be near someone, all the time? Because...you simply need to breathe the same oxygen as them?”

Adore furrows her brow. “No.”

“Yeah, me neither, until now. I don’t know what to do. And now I think I fucked it all up. I think she hates me.” Courtney bites her lip, eyes glazing over with tears.

“No one could hate you. It’s one of your most annoying qualities.”

Courtney covers her face with her hands, curling up against Adore’s body, leaning a head on her shoulder. “She won’t even look at me. And I keep thinking, like...what did I do wrong? It seemed like she wanted to...but now, I don’t know, I’m...” Courtney choked back a sob. “I just wish she’d talk to me.”

Adore bites her lip, feeling a little guilty. She’d been so excited to learn all the lascivious details that she hadn’t picked up on Courtney’s very obvious misery. She put a hand on her shoulder, trying to strike a softer tone.

“She’s probably just confused. You know?”

“Right,” Courtney says, voice muffled.

After a moment, Adore clears her throat and asks, “So...what about the husband? What was he doing? Was he just like...watching?”

“No. He was very much...involved.” Courtney sniffles.

Adore grimaces. “So...I mean did he...um…”

Courtney lifts her head, eyes red and watery. “I hate him, Adore. He’s like, awful.”

“You hate the husband of the woman you’re in love with? That’s shocking,” Adore teases gently, brushing some hair off Courtney’s forehead.

Courtney scrunches up her face and hits her friend with a pillow.

“You don’t understand, he’s the worst. He doesn’t deserve her. I...why is she with him?” Courtney looks away.

“Did you, um...do anything with him?” Adore asks.

“Yeah. Yeah, I had to. Because I knew, that it was the only way. And I would suffer through him a thousand times if it meant I could be with her once.” Courtney’s breath hitches, and Adore reaches for her, swallowing down her own uneasiness about the situation.

“Baby...come here…”

Courtney allows Adore to pull her into an embrace, fights the embarrassment and shame that she really should have known better.

“Thanks,” is all she can manage to say.

“Anytime.”

***

It’s Thursday, after another three days of Bianca icing her out, before Courtney gathers up the nerve to confront her. She waits until the initial rush is over, until Jamie and their new PA are both away on runs, before entering the trailer.

In keeping with her behavior all week, Bianca barely looks up.

“Can we please just talk about this?” Courtney asks, tired already, before the conversation has even started.

“Talk about what?” Bianca asks dismissively, threading a needle.

Courtney’s done with the games. The bullshit. She’s done.

“We had sex.”

Bianca narrows her blue eyes. “A little louder, don’t think they heard you in the Production Office.”

“Bianca, we need-”

“No. I’m sorry, but this is not something I want to talk about, and I told you that, and now you’re-”

“But I-”

“End of discussion,” she said firmly.

Courtney swallows. “I just, please...one thing.” Her green eyes are full of tears.

Bianca steels herself. “Fine. What?”

“I c-care about you. I don’t want to lose our friendship-”

“Well maybe you should have thought about that before you fucked my husband!”

Courtney stares at her for a second, blinking, color draining from her face, fingers going numb. This isn’t what she’s prepared for, but now, suddenly, she feels like a complete moron.

“That...is a fair point,” she says softly. It’s all she can think to say.

Bianca looks down. It’s not a fair point, and she knows it. But how is she supposed to explain, the way her heart shattered, seeing Jared touch her? How her escape, the one bright spot in her life, the one place she was safe from him, is now destroyed? And she knows that it’s Jared’s fault - that he did it intentionally and maliciously. She knows that, even if she was too fucked up to realize it until too late.

What happened between her and Courtney - her body pulsing with desire from her soft, gentle touch, the sparks that overtook her every time they kissed, the gush of wetness between her thighs the first time Courtney’s hot mouth pressed against her neck, how perfectly right it felt to finally touch her, taste her...the next day, those memories were distant, dulled by pain and loss.

What she does remember, every time she closes her eyes, is the victorious look on Jared’s face as he thrusted into her. The way his hands pawed at her. And the sick grin on his face when Bianca tried to look away, how he grabbed her by the hair and forced her to watch.

And somehow, she can’t help but blame Courtney too. Because Courtney went along with it willingly. She was an accomplice to the betrayal. So Bianca stares at her with as much indifference as she can muster.

Courtney’s mind spins in 100 different directions. What else can she say, to make Bianca understand, without putting her own emotional garbage into it? Because that, she knows, now more than ever, wouldn’t be right.

“For the record, I’m not...interested in your husband. I didn’t even know that you were upset about that; if I did…” Courtney stops, takes a breath, tries another tactic. “I guess I...I thought maybe you were just feeling weird about the gay stuff. That maybe you-”

“The gay stuff?”

“Yeah, I mean...it’s...normal, to feel, I don’t know, confused. I know that my first time with a woman, I-”

“Oh my god, stop.” Bianca shakes her head. It’s clear to her, for the first time, exactly how she’s going to really twist the knife, assuring that this little affair is over before it begins. She tells herself that it’s for Courtney’s own good. I’m poison. I’ll ruin her eventually. Better now than later. She steps closer to her, slowly says, “You think you’re my first?”

Courtney’s heart beats faster. “I thought...that…”

“What, that you were special? So irresistible that even straight women can’t keep their pants on around you?” Bianca narrows her eyes, forcing out a cruel laugh. “I’ve known I was bi since I was 13. Grow up.”

Courtney’s mouth opens, then closes. Bianca can tell from her eyes that this sucker-punch to the gut is exactly what she needed to deliver. Exactly what she needed to say to destroy any hope left between them. Courtney swallows and begins to back up.

I’m poison. Poison, Bianca repeats, convincing herself that this was a justified act of mercy. Better she knows now.

***

Initially, all Courtney feels is numb. She sits, dazed, in the holding area, waiting for her turn in the hair and makeup trailer, unable to focus her eyes or her mind.

Maybe it isn’t real. Maybe it’s just a nightmare. Her typical fantasies, out of control and twisted into something horrible.

It isn’t until later, sitting on set, that she begins to trust the reality of her own body. She can feel the hard bench against her thighs. Hear the chatter from the crew. And that’s when it all hits her. Bianca doesn’t want her. Which, in a way, she’d been prepared for. Nothing Bianca had ever said or did made Courtney think that she’d leave her husband. The part that kills her, that makes her feel like the rug has just been yanked out from under her feet, is how she seems to be so willing to toss their friendship out the window.

What, that you were special?

She did. Carelessly, stupidly, allow herself to believe that she was special. That what they had was special. That Bianca cared about her for reasons besides a quick fuck. That she wasn’t just a temporary distraction from her shitty husband. That this was different.

The truth is, Courtney could have handled romantic rejection. It would have stung, but she’d have licked her wounds and gotten over it. But she’s not sure how she’s going to cope with losing a friendship that’s become the center of her life. A friendship that she convinced herself was far deeper than any relationship she’s ever had. That she thought was based in mutual respect, in joy, in love.

She realizes, a bit shamefully, that she can’t even remember the last time she got through the day without talking to her, before this awful week.

Courtney gulps. She needs a distraction, and stat.

Adore walks towards her, about to give a typical greeting, but Courtney jumps in before she can get a word out, grasping her hand.

“Let’s go out tonight!”

Adore tilts her head. Courtney’s green eyes are bit too bright, and it immediately causes her concern.

“Are you okay?”

Courtney casts her eyes up to the ceiling for a moment of exasperation before leveling her gaze at Adore again.

“I’m fine, I want to go out. I want to dance; I want to drink. Are you in...or not?”

“Uh...yeah, sure. Always.”

Courtney smiles brilliantly, clapping her hands.

“Yay! I knew you’d come through…” Courtney kisses Adore on the cheek and swats her on the ass as she walks away.

***

“Lessss go home, babyyy…” Courtney slurs, arms around Adore’s neck. At this point, she’s fully lost count of how much alcohol she’s consumed, which is probably for the best. All she knows is that she’s anxious to lie down, but even more anxious for some human contact.

“Whatever you want, boo…” Adore, who’s gone drink for drink with her, seems less hammered, wrapping an arm securely around her waist and guiding her towards the door.

The walk home is annoyingly sobering, cool breeze from the ocean waking her up, and by the time they get inside, she’s starting to remember why she spent the night drinking like this in the first place, so she drags Adore, laughing, down the hall, pushing her quickly onto the bed.

“Take off your clothes.”

“I don’t remember this being on the formal agenda for tonight,” Adore teases, and Courtney lets out a frustrated scoff. “I mean, I’m always down, you know that...but what’s your girlfriend gonna say?”

“Shut up, and take off your clothes.”

Adore laughs and starts to remove her pants, shaking her head.

“So bossy...”

So what if she’s being aggressive and a bit messy? Rolling around on the bed with Adore fulfils something that she needs right now. To be kissed. To be touched. By someone who actually gives a shit about her.

And Courtney knows it’s wrong, she does, but with her eyes closed, the feel of those plush lips allow her to immediately descend into a vivid fantasy, a whimper escaping her as it all comes to life. Bianca’s lips against hers, Bianca’s ass filling her hands, skin smooth and warm...

Moments later, though, she’s snapped out of it by the sound of Adore’s voice.

“Easy, tiger,” Adore murmurs against her, giggling. “We’ll get there, slow your roll.”

Courtney opens her eyes, pulls her face back a little.

“Adore, I’m trying to...can you...not talk?”

Adore looks at her, realization dawning in her eyes as she lets out a dry chuckle, nodding.

“Oh, I get what we're doing here, okay..."

Courtney bites her lip, lungs filled with burning shame.

“Adore, I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s cool. It’s totally cool. Just...close your eyes, baby.”

The horrible feeling of being this raw and vulnerable is eased slightly by the need Courtney feels to play along. To let Adore indulge this little fantasy. So her eyes fall closed once again, as she lets Adore roll her onto her back.

Kisses, soft and tender, along her jaw. Hands undressing her slowly, caressing her skin. Every touch is gentle, and Courtney wants to scream. Because it’s not working, it’s not real, it’s not what she’s actually looking for.

“Stop.”

Adore lifts her head.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Courtney sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Adore slides off her body.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry for dragging you into my bullshit. I probably should have just fucked a stranger tonight,” Courtney admits.

“You wanna go back to the bar? Still a few hours before closing,” Adore suggests, and Courtney laughs, curling against her.

“You’re the best friend in the world, you know that?”

“I do.” Adore kisses the top of her head and wraps the comforter around them both.

***

No one says anything, when Bianca sits down for lunch. No one makes a comment about how unusual it is for Bianca to join her department, and the art girls, when Courtney is sitting just a few tables over.

But Bianca knows what they’re thinking. Can see the subtle, slightly raised eyebrows from her colleagues, who have by now just accepted that she only sits with them when Courtney’s not on set.

She quickly stuffs a dinner roll into her mouth, just in case anyone decides to ask a question that she’s not inclined to answer.

“Hey, Bianca,” Sarah ventures, and Bianca is quite happy that her mouth is full as she turns her head. “Jamie said that you made that silver gown Farrah was wearing yesterday.”

Bianca nods, relieved that the conversation is only about work.

“It’s absolutely stunning,” Sarah adds with a smile.

“I know, right?” Beth cuts in warmly, putting an arm around her. “I’m so proud.”

Suddenly, Bianca’s stomach clenches. Nosy questions about Courtney might even be easier to handle than this benign look on their faces. Is she imagining it? Or are they actually being patronizing?

“Thanks,” Bianca says gruffly, looking back down at her plate, wishing she were anywhere but here.

***

Courtney’s feet pound on the sand, adrenaline pumping through her veins. The more she sweats, the clearer her head becomes. She’d spent the last two days in state of shock and denial, mourning the loss of her friendship with Bianca like some kind of lovesick puppy. Now, for the first time, she’s coming to terms with the reality of the situation.

What, that you were special?

So irresistible that even straight women can’t keep their pants on around you?

I’ve known I was bi since I was 13.

Grow up.

At first, Bianca’s sneering dismissal had blindsided her. She knows that Bianca can be tough, but she’s never seen her deliberately hurt someone. Did Courtney really not matter to her at all? Was she really just some trick, easily cast aside?

But then, the more she thought about it, the more she realized how full of crap Bianca was.

Above all else, Courtney considers herself a realist. Does she sometimes see things through a blithely carefree lens? Sure. But she’s not a starry-eyed optimist who ignores the truth. She knows that the feelings between her and Bianca were real. There is no way that an entire year of laughter and tears, connection and vulnerability, was all in her head. There’s no way to ignore all the heated touches, the meaningful looks, the embraces that always went on too long. And there’s especially no way to deny what had transpired between them last weekend.

Courtney’s had a lot of casual sex in her life. But she’s also been in love. And the way Bianca kissed her? The way she held onto her, the way she touched her - that wasn’t casual, and it wasn’t just physical, either.

So the question is, why? Is Bianca so desperate to deny her feelings - feelings that she knows for a fact that Courtney returns - that she’s willing to do whatever it takes to hurt Courtney, push her away? Is she so terrified of what happened between them that she needs to sever any hope of a relationship, even the friendship that’s sustained them both for as long as they’ve known each other?

It appears so.

And fuck her.

There will be no wallowing in misery. No more pining and yearning and wishing that things were different.

When Courtney finally reaches her house, she’s gasping for air, face red and flushed, hair sticking to her forehead. She nearly collapses on the steps, grabbing onto the banister for support, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Enough of this shit. She needs to move on with her life, and fast.

***

Bianca arrives home to find Jared on the couch, glass of wine in hand. Some forensic crime drama plays on the TV, which he appears to be ignoring, looking up from his phone with a big smile.

“Hey! Glad you’re finally home. I’m starving,” he says.

“I ordered Thai. It should be here soon.”

Jared makes a face, and she sighs tiredly.

“You like Thai,” she reminds him, turning on her heel and walking into the bedroom. She kicks off her shoes and quickly changes from her work clothes into yoga pants and an old, soft t-shirt. She’s gathering her hair into a bun when Jared appears in the doorway, leaning on the frame and scrutinizing her closely.

She doesn’t look back at him, simply continues to wind her hair around and around, securing it with a clip.

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?” Bianca asks blandly, walking to the door and attempting to push past him.

He stops her, a hand on her waist.

“I’m fucking serious.”

“I’m fine.” Bianca squirms away and pads into the kitchen, pulling out plates and silverware to set the table.

Jared walks up behind her. His voice is low as he growls, “Turn around.”

It’s not a request. Bianca turns slowly, heart pounding. He takes her face in his hand, eyes hard. Her breathing is shallow as she waits for him to speak again, a lump rising in her throat.

“Don’t you know how much I love you?” he asks.

“Yes.” Tears begin to slip down her cheeks and he tightens his grip on her, making her inhale sharply.

“You are everything to me. Do you know that?”

Bianca nods, now openly crying, as he wraps her into a hug.

“Good.”

***

Courtney’s always had a tendency to fall fast and hard for people. Lovers, friends, people in line at the grocery store - it is easy for her to open up, and easy for her to become utterly smitten with people over the course of a single conversation.

The flip side, of course, is that she sometimes loses interest when the next person catches her eye. Which means that a lot of her relationships have burned hot and fast, and then fizzled just as quickly.

Save for a core group, people seem to drift in and out of her life as the wind blows, and that’s okay with her. She appreciates the moments as they come. And there’s nothing she likes better than reconnecting with someone months or years after the last time they spoke, remembering everything wonderful about them and even better, finding out something new.

So she’s never cut anyone off. Because you never know where someone’s life will take them, what might bring them back into your orbit. What they’ve learned along the way.

Today, she’s making an exception. She doesn’t feel good about it, but blocking Bianca on social media seems like the only way to definitely say that it’s over. Her hands shake a little bit, and she shrugs off her anxiety, feeling silly. People unfollow and block each other all the time. Her friends use “block” to mean “I disagree with one thing you said.” There’s no reason this needs to be so hard.

When it’s done, she puts her phone on the table, face down. There. Done. Finito.

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #courtney act #bitney #adore delano #oc #lesbian au #slow burn #after the fire #angst #fluff #undone #stephanie #veronica #tw emotional abuse #concrit welcome

[allonsy-yesiwill]

What a dick

Read X Jared, Jenson and SPN members 

WC: 2732 ish 

Summary: Headed to a supernatural convention for the first time.

A/N: So when I watched the DCcon video there are some things that happen and I just feel like the boys would be super nice like this. 

Warning: Angst, lack of self-worth, breakup, cheating, mostly fluffy goodness. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we are doing this,” you said to your boyfriend of the past 2 years.

“I know we should have done it earlier,” Mark your boyfriend responded

It was your first ever Supernatural convention. You two had been planning it for the last year, and you couldn’t believe it. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe that you found someone that loved Supernatural as much as you did and in your hometown. 

You two drove to Vegas, making the most out fo the trip you got into town on a Wednesday. You were both super excited until you saw her. Your boyfriend's ex. It had been an issue for the last 6 months, she was coming around and just causing trouble. Well, at least that’s what you were told. The moment you see her in Vegas, you start to question things. Start to question him. Things are adding up. You barely sleep Wednesday night. 

Thursday morning there is convention stuff to do, it was like J2M stuff but you were still excited to see and do it all. Letting yesterday be pushed aside till later. As the day moves on Mark says he’s not feeling well and he wants to go lay down. The only person left is Tahmoh Penikett, so you don’t even question it. 

That is until it’s too late. 

Walking back to your room, you do your girlfriend good deed, stopping to get some soup for your sick man. “Hey love, I brought you so,” your words just stop with what you’re eyes are taking in. 

“See, Y/N I knew you couldn’t ever properly satisfy him,” she says clearly still sitting on his dick. 

You don’t run. You don’t move. You don’t speak. You do hear Mark speaking, some bullshit about sorry, it’s not what you think. What the fuck do you mean it’s what you think, she’s fucking sitting on your dick. 

“Out now, take all of your shit and go,” your voice is calm and does not waver. 

“How are you going to get home,” Mark asks. 

“That’s not your issue.” 

Once you are the only one in the room you pull out your phone, calling your bestie who is still at home. “Look, Amanda, I know this is crazy but can you just change the locks and my place and set all of Mark’s things on fire.” 

She doesn’t question anything you say, just says yes. She is your ride or die. Before you get off the phone you do tell her the story, she suggests going to the hotel and asking if you can get another room. It’s a good idea, you don’t want him coming back and sitting outside your room. You pack up your stuff and head down to the lobby, just hoping everything works out. 

It’s getting late by the time you make it down and it kinda looks like the hotel is full, but you still try. Walking up the hotel gatekeeper you say, “So ah can I get another room.”  

“Is there something wrong with yours?”

Is there something wrong, yeah there is but it’s not their fault. You do your very best to make things up, the best not great, it smells. Nothing he’s not buying what you are selling. Fuck. You know you’re going to have to tell him. 

“Okay look, I came here with my boyfriend and less than well 4 hours ago I walking into our room and he was fuck is ex. So I just need a new room, please,” the truth slips out with a few tears to follow. 

“Fuck let me see what, just, I am sorry.” 

“Yup me too.” 

“So yeah, um well here it is. We only have a suite left. Sorry, the convention it’s, we are full because of it.” As the words leave his mouth a pit in your stomach opens and your face falls into your hands but he continues, “ Look I know it’s not the best but we have cleaning people, I can call them and they can clean it for you. I know it’s not the best but it’s better than nothing right.” 

You don’t move, you can’t move. The tears running down your face, you’re a hot mess, you don't wanna show your face. It’s all kinda making sense now, why he left. Why he did this. You are a trainwreck, all aboard next stop crazy town. 

“Hey sorry I couldn’t help but kind of hear everything. I am pretty sure I can help.”  

Wait you know that voice, soft, kind of childlike. No fucking way it can’t be. You look up while your mascara falls down. No FUCKING way. 

“Would it be possible for me to pay for me to put the suite on my bill,” Jared asks. 

“Of course Mr. Padalaicki.” 

“Hi I am Jared, you are?”

“Oh um hi, Y/N. Um, I am pretty sure you don’t have to do this. I mean I am not your problem.” 

“Well Y/N, I know I don’t have to do this. I want to, besides I have too much money and I would love for you to help me with the problem. Gen would totally be grateful as well.” 

You can’t help but laugh, “ That’s my kind of problem.” 

Jared fills out all of the paperwork, little did you know he also talked them into refunding your room rental but this will be a pleasant surprise for later. Your new room is right next to Jared’s and he lets you know the Jensen is just down the hall. While you are making the trek to your room Jared asks what happened and you told him. Jared being Jared just hugs you, when you finish the story in the elevator, you can’t help but cray just a bit more. 

“Fuck him,” Jared offers up, “ I mean you seem pretty awesome, so he’s totally missing out.” 

“Thanks, yeah he’s not that smart.” Jared chuckles at your joke. “I don’t know I think the worst part is he has all of his passes still. What if he just like comes and sits next to me tomorrow night, I don’t know if I could handle that.” 

“Funny thing, I know some people that work there let me see what I can do.” 

“Are you going to get him blacklisted, oh my god can you do that. I mean you know if that’s a thing. Put up a big picture of him and say not allowed.” 

Jared laughs, “ I don’t think that is a thing but let me see.” 

He walks you to your room and makes sure it fits your needs. It does, it’s the nicest room you have ever stayed in, in all of your years. Before he leaves he gives you another big hug and tells you his door is open if you need anything during your stay. You only reassure him that you will be fine, you are only going to shower and then crawl into bed for the night. 

The next morning you wake up at an ungodly hour of 5:30, not being able to go back to sleep you slip into your workout clothes and head to the hotel gym at 6 am. Putting your headphones on you climb onto the treadmill and just run. Finishing your workout and thinking you were the only person crazy enough to be in a hotel gym on a Friday morning. As it turns out you were wrong, climbing off the treadmill, you jump when you see Jared, landing on the ground you take off your headphones. 

“Hey Y/N, are you okay. Sorry about that. I called your name out but I figured your music was too loud,” Jared offers to help you up off the ground. 

“Oh my god, I just gave myself a heart-attack, Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“You don’t need to call me my by formal name, Jared works just fine.” 

“Stop,” you can’t help but laugh. 

Jared and you chat for a bit, he lets you know he’s going to go to the convention today cause Gen and the kids aren’t going to make the trip as the boys are sick. You two agree to meet in the lobby at a set time to walk over, Jared telling you that he’s got possible problem corse corrected. 

The day was amazing, Jared fixed the issue by getting you backstage. If there was a heave this would be it. Jared didn’t need to be there on Friday so he had no set plans he did whatever you wanted to do. You got to meet everyone….every fucking one. Not only that but Jared was so nice, you guys talked about everything. Where you were from, growing up, Jared even offered up the store about him and Gen and how he knew. He was clearly making a point that Mark probably wasn’t your human. You even got to facetime with Gen a bit, you weren’t sure how this was your life but it was. 

You had dinner with everyone and everyone cared. There were so many hugs, you were overwhelmed. You had never felt more valued in your entire life. When you and Jared walk back to your rooms you stop him outside before going in.

“Hey, so I know this is going to sound weird and all but thank you. For everything. I am not sure I really knew what love was before this. Like I just really appreciate you and everyone, everyone just made me feel so good about me being me and like I was valuable,” you let out softly. 

“You don’t have to thank me for being a human,” Jared hugs you. “And I am sorry no one made you feel this way before today. Mark was clearly a dick.” 

“Yeah, he was,” you laugh. 

Saturday you were pretty much on your own. However you still your backstage pass and Jared made sure you had someone to ask questions and get you the very best of everything. Everyone was going to the bar after the concert and you couldn’t say no. 

“Everything okay Y/N, “ Brianna asks.

 “Yeah it’s just my ex is here,” you let out. 

“Oh Jared told us about him, what a dick,” Kim says. 

“We should do something,” Brianna lets out. 

By do something Brianna met you weren’t going to sign all of you up to sing karaoke. Not really your thing but with these two amazing people by your side you weren’t going to say no. And your glad you didn’t it was amazing, you could feel Mark watching you. Then you remember the people that were around you. The fucking cast of supernatural, you two had talked about it so many times. How awesome it would be to hang out with them and it was so much more than that. 

Once you returned to your table you saw Mark trying to walk over, but he was stopped by Mischa. You two had met earlier in the day and after finding out you were also a gisher he promised you that one of the items on this year's hunt would be Mark’s dead body. As the night came to a close, Mark was still in the bar so no one would let you leave alone. Finally setting up Misha puts his arm around you and walks you out of the bar. The look on Mark’s face was priceless. Misha stops outside the bar and says, “ We should document this for science, can I see your phone. “ Not even questioning it you hand your phone over and Misha take a selfie of you two, in the background you can see Mark and the look of anger on his face. You can’t help but smile. Before walking back to the hotel you turn around and call out “Thanks Mark, for everything.” 

“What was that for,” Misha asks. 

“Well, honestly he didn’t make the choice that he made I would be here. I wouldn’t have known that what we were doing wasn’t love. So I really felt like I should thank him for that.” 

“I am proud of you.” Oh my mother fucking god, Misha is proud of you. 

Misha walks you to your room and bids you a good night. Walking into your room you notice a piece of paper on the floor, so you pick it up. 

Hey Y/N, 

Coffee 7 am, lobby, see you there. 

Jared. 

Would it be weird if I frame this, you think to yourself. 

Heading down to the lobby well before 7, you sit in one of the sofas and just think about everything. You are a bit hungover but nothing too bad. Coffee will definitely help.

You hear a voice from behind you, “So I hear we are going to break someone face today, Y/N.” You turn and around to see green eyes smiling at you. 

“Oh yeah, I have a whole list. I mean there’s just one name on it but it’s still a list.” 

“Nice to meet you Y/N, Jared just messaged me he will be down in a minute.”

You spend the next 15 minutes talking to Jensen mother fucking Ackles and surprisingly you weren’t awkward. Jared had told him your story and some other things, you were a bit taken back by the fact that J2 had a conversation about you. Jared finally comes down and hands you a party patch, “here I heard you had a good night last night.” 

“Dude don’t give her that, you’re going to make her smell too.” 

“It doesn’t smell, calm down” 

“It does smell,” Jensen sniffs Jared, “ You fucking smell.” 

“Whatever, let’s get coffee.” 

The boys went to do their thing leaving you backstage to watch on the TV. You were still in shock at what was happening, it was amazing you were hanging out with all of these people that you had dreamt, even pretended to be friends with. As the day finishes up the boys ask you what’s next for you. The honest truth is you didn’t know. You didn’t even know how you were going to get back home, probably purchase an airline ticket. 

“Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I stay one more night and see if I can catch a flight out tomorrow. I took this whole week off of work because I was planning on driving back.” you say. 

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” Jensen says. 

As it turns out, Jensen was able to get you a flight out on Wednesday afternoon, he even used if miles to get you upgraded. You handed him your credit card number to type on his phone but what you didn’t know yet is that he was paying for it. 

“Thanks again guys, this is just the best weekend of my life. I don’t think I could ever repay you guys.” 

“Please, it was nothing. I had a really good time getting to know you, your a great person and I am very thankful that I was standing by you in the lobby Thursday night,” Jared let out. 

“I think your next vacation should be to Texas, maybe next year,” Jensen asks. 

“Really, like, really.” 

“Yeah, I know you would get along great with our girls and Baby’s going to be at the brewery once the filming is done. I think I know someone so you could probably even sit in her,” Jensen says. 

You agree to make a trip to Texas next year and you trade contact info, you aren’t on twitter much but they do find you and Jensen Ackles even follows you on Instagram. Jared lets you know that your room is paid for till you leave Wednesday, he follows it up with a happy birthday. Knowing full well that it’s not your birthday, however, you get what he is doing. 

Both of them are leaving tonight, so the last set of hugs is shared and you wish them well. You can’t believe that this is your life. Walking up to your room you look at your phone and the new contacts 

J One 

J Two 

You chuckle remembering how Jensen was unhappy with being thing 2. Walking into your room you dial Amanda’s number. When she answers the phone you let out, “So you’re not going to believe what happened this week…” 

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[rawmeanderson]

so you know what’s on my mind ― part II

plot: SURPRISE, PLD likes older women ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (age range 25-28) warnings: cursing, drinking, mentions of sex, idk i’m really bad at this part???? word count: 6.2k also featuring: Boone and Jonesy

PART I

The days leading up to the trip to Niagara Falls were full of anxiety on your side. You were psyching yourself up really, trying to decide what to pack. Boone and Seth weren’t helping. You were pretty sure they already had a bet going over if you and Pierre would hook up or not, and really, you didn’t care. You knew that if you asked them to knock it off, they would, but despite how antsy you felt about all of it, it was funny to see Boone and Seth getting so involved in your love life.

Pierre had texted you a couple of times, even sent you a meme at one point that was so funny you’d had to show a couple coworkers after they asked why you were laughing so hard. He was sweet, kept saying he was excited for the trip. It made you feel like a teenager all over again, giddy and eager. You’d never spent so much time with him and you were getting worried you’d make an idiot of yourself in front of him  in one way or another. You were crossing the border to the Canadian side of the falls so Pierre could drink, and all of you had been giving him hell about the it. He’d agreed to pay for dinner one night to repay the three of you for being the reason you’d have to take the time to cross back into the states on your way home.

You take Friday off from work so the four of you can leave Thursday evening, and that Tuesday, you were surprised with Pierre called you at work.

“Hey, bud, what’s up?” you ask, cradling the phone between your ear and your shoulder so you could continue typing up an email as you talk.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t expect you to answer,” he says, laughing a second later. “I, uh..I was just gonna see if you needed an oil change or a tire rotation or anything before we left...for your car, obviously. I’d pay for it, I just figured since you were driving, I could at least chip in somehow.” His words make you smile, and you can practically hear him blushing through the phone. Seth always paid for a bit of maintenance for your car anytime you went on a trip, and it wouldn’t surprise you if he’d put Pierre up to this.

“Uhh, yeah, that’d be great actually,” you tell him, biting your lip as you jot down a note to call and schedule an appointment at your usual garage. There’s a wide smile on your face by then and you can hear him hesitating a bit on the other end of the line.

“I can go with you,” he says, words rushed before he clears his throat. “If you want me to, that is. If not, I can just Venmo you the money or something.”

Yeah, this definitely had Seth written all over it. He knew you hated going to get maintenance done on your vehicle alone, even if you didn’t wait around while you did the work, so he always went with you. The two of you would usually drop off your car then head to a coffee shop or grab a bite to eat while you waited, but now, having Pierre with you would be a sweet change.

“You can come with me if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to,” you tell him, worried that he’s offering it up out of obligation.

“No, no, I’ll go, I don’t mind,” he says, sounding a little eager. You laugh softly, and you’re nodding to yourself then, biting your lip for a moment.

“Okay, so, let me call and see when they can fit me in sometime in the next couple of days and I’ll let you know, yeah?” you say, hoping whenever the shop could fit you in at a time that would work for Pierre to go with you.

“Yeah, sounds good, I’ll see you soon,” he says, always sounding so sweet.

Thankfully, it worked out that the shop had an opening the following afternoon, and Pierre was free as well. You picked him up, and it was no surprise that he was all smiles. On the ride to the shop, the pair of you talk a bit, mostly about the upcoming trip. After dropping your car off, the two of you walked over to the coffee shop across the street. Before you could stop him, Pierre paid for your iced coffee and he just grinned when you shot him an irritated look. 

Really, you don’t know what you’d expected spending time alone with him would be like, but this wasn’t it. You’d known he was a sweetheart, and he spent the majority of the time in the coffee shop asking you questions about yourself, getting to know you better. Time not spent talking about you was spent discussing the trip. You’d never been to Niagara Falls before, so you were excited. When he said he put together a playlist for the drive, he was clearly excited about it, and you grin as you sip at your coffee, eyes on him. He seemed to be blushing less that day, maybe because you hadn’t been outrightly flirting with him as much, but regardless, you still had butterflies in your stomach the whole time.

The oil change and tire rotation only took about an hour, but really, you could’ve spent the rest of the afternoon sitting there talking to him, enjoying the fact that you finally got to have some time to get to know him without Seth around to tease either of you at any given moment. As the two of you head back to the shop, someone stops Pierre to ask for a photo and he shoots you an apologetic look as you offer to take the photo. You’re used to people stopping Seth, so it doesn’t bother you at all. Walking next to him felt good in a way that you really couldn’t explain. 

After picking your car up, you spend the drive back to Pierre’s stuck in traffic. As always, there was fucking road construction, but the two of you make do. You start talking about the trip again, and tapping your thumbs on the steering wheel, you look over at him. “I was going to pick up some snacks for the drive tomorrow, any requests?” you ask, easing your foot off the brake as traffic starts to move.

“Uhm, Oreos? Or some Swedish Fish,” he says, meeting your eye and you can’t help but smile as you nod.

“Oreos and Swedish Fish, got it,” you respond, giving him a quick thumbs up. “How’s that playlist coming along, huh? Would you be willing to share it with me so I can add a couple of songs, or are you a playlist purist like Seth?”

That got a laugh out of him, a quick breathy sound, and you saw him grinning widely out of the corner of his eye. “That depends, I guess, what are you going to add?” he asks, playful tone to his voice.

You glance at him again, trying your best to look offended as you scoff. “Don’t worry about it, you’ll find out tomorrow night,” you say, grin spreading across your face then.

“I’ll think about it then,” he teases and you scoff quietly, shaking your head. He’s smiling and it’s such a nice sight that your eyes linger on him for a little longer. “Honestly, Seth told me not to let you add anything, he said you suck at playlists.”

Your foot comes off the brake again to creep forward more and you can’t help but scoff again. “Jared Seth Jones is a fucking liar,” you mutter and Pierre laughs a second later. Looking over at him, you’re trying not to smile when you speak again. “It’s true!” Both of you are laughing by then.

“Why does he say you suck at playlists though? I feel like there’s a massive story behind that,” Pierre questions, biting his bottom lip as he looks at you.

That gets you to roll your eyes, and you chuckle softly at the memories of times Seth has bitched about your choice of music. “He says not all playlists, just usually for roadtrips,” you tell him, flipping on your blinker before changing lanes. “I don’t know. If it’s a long drive, I want fun music that I can sing to, otherwise it gets boring, especially if I’m the one driving.” You can hear Pierre chuckling as you check your blindspot, so you continue talking. “The last time we went somewhere, he was bitching because I went from the Mamma Mia! soundtrack to the Popstar soundtrack, and obviously, nothing’s good enough for him.”

“He just doesn’t know to have a good time, we all know that,” he says and you grin, knowing it’s true.

Once you’d dropped Pierre off, you forced yourself to be productive for the evening. You went to Target for snacks and some sunscreen, and ended up leaving with a new swimsuit, some new sandals, and a few pairs of undies that had been on clearance. After putting it off for most of the week, you packed your weekend bag, knowing you’d need to have everything ready that night since you were leaving straight from work the following day. You were sure you were forgetting a couple of things, but there were stores in Canada, so you decided not to stress about it.

You were already in bed by the time Pierre shared the playlist with you, and just to piss Seth off, you added both Mamma Mia! Soundtracks, a few songs from SNL digital shorts, and the entire Lonely Island discography. Grinning, you sent Pierre a quick thank you text, saying you’d added some worthwhile additions. His response was that he’d be looking forward to seeing Seth’s reactions to your additions, and god, that made you smile.

You tossed and turned a bit as you were trying to get to sleep that night, eager to get through the next day of work before you guys left for the trip. Pierre kept creeping into your mind with his soft laugh and the way he grinned at you. He was starting to open up to you more, and you were grateful then that Seth had told him to take you to get an oil change. You’d never not had a crush on him, you’d always just thought you were too old for him, that he had his pick of any girl in the city, but now that you knew he was interested, you were letting yourself think about him a bit more. Never in your life had you been good at letting people know that you were interested in them, and you were feeling antsy going into the trip, worrying that you’d somehow blow it.

The next day dragged like crazy, as it always did before a trip. Your car was packed with your bag and snacks, gas tank full, and you were picking the guys up at Seth’s after work. Pierre had texted you throughout the day, even sending you the link to a little cafe close to the cottage, saying he wanted to take you for brunch one morning. That put a smile on your face, but damn, you’d be lying if your stomach hadn’t done a flip when you’d read that message. It had been awhile since you’d actually dated anyone, and now that there was the possibility of dating someone so much younger than you, you were extra nervous.

As slowly as the day ticked on, the drive to Seth’s felt equally as long thanks to traffic. You were eager to get the drive over with, given it’d felt like such a long day. Parking in front of Seth’s building, all three of them were already waiting out front, bags on the sidewalk beside them. You get out of the car, smiling as you open the hatch of your SUV.

“About time you got here,” Boone teases as he loads his bag into the trunk. Rolling your eyes at him, he grins, immediately pulling you in for a quick hug. When you’re pulling away, you hear Pierre yell out that he gets shotgun, and when you catch Seth’s eye a second later, he winks at you. Again, you’re rolling your eyes, unable to stop the little smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

The drive was easy, thankfully. You stopped for dinner along the way to break up the six hour drive, and for the most part, Boone and Seth were either listening to music or watching something on their iPads with headphones on, probably to drown out you and Pierre’s conversation, or the fact that halfway through the drive, he switched from his playlist to the Lonely Island discography, which made the drive a lot more fun. He was impressed that you knew all of Natalie’s Rap, and you tease him that if he doesn’t have another SNL inspired Halloween costume this year, you’d be very disappointed. His response was that he hadn’t committed to any costume ideas yet, and you just grinned, making a mental note to think up a few costumes that would be just as good as last year’s.

By the time you crossed the border and made it up to the cottage, it was after midnight and you were exhausted. After crossing the border, Pierre had offered to drive and you let him, considering you were nearly dozing off while driving. The guys let you have the master bedroom with an ensuite so you didn’t have to worry about sharing a bathroom with the three of them, and you were grateful for that. Your room and Seth’s were downstairs while Pierre and Boone headed upstairs to the other rooms. You were so tired by the time you arrived that you headed straight to bed, changing into pjs quickly before climbing beneath the sheets.

You were so used to waking up early for work that you weren’t able to sleep as late as you would’ve liked, but the smell of coffee lured you out of bed. Gathering your messy hair up into a loose bun, you’re yawning as you step into the kitchen. Boone’s sitting at the table, munching on a bit of toast and Pierre was standing at the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” Boone says and you grumble in response, waving a hand as you head to grab some coffee of your own.

You can feel Pierre’s eyes on you, and when you catch his gaze drop lower, you remember that you hadn’t put on a bra, the fabric of your shirt stretched taut over your breasts. You’re so used to staying over at Seth’s and lounging around on lazy mornings that you hadn’t even thought about getting dressed. He looks away quickly, but you can see a soft flush coloring his cheeks as he turns back to the counter then.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask him, grinning a bit as you glance up at him, opening a couple of cabinets in search of a coffee mug before finding one.

“Uh, good. How about you?” he responds, watching as you pour yourself some coffee. You can tell that he’s doing his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“Good,” you tell him, turning to lean back against the edge of the counter. You take a sip of coffee, humming softly, grateful for the caffeine.

Seth came into the kitchen a few minutes later as you were still sipping at your coffee. From there, the four of you made plans for the day, deciding to do touristy stuff on the weekday in hopes that it wouldn’t be as crowded. With plans to leave for the falls in an hour, Boone and Seth took off to grab showers, leaving you and Pierre alone in the kitchen as you move to refill your coffee mug.

You know his eyes are on you before you even turn around, but you didn’t intend to catch him full on checking you out like he was. He knew you’d caught him again, but this time, he doesn’t look away. Your nipples are hard against the fabric of your shirt and Pierre licks his lips in a way that makes heat rise up the back of your neck. There’s an intensity in his eye that you’d seldom seen in him off the ice, and what you wouldn’t give to be able to read his mind. If you were a bit more bold, you would’ve nodded down the hall to your room and pulled him into bed with you.

Tension is building between you, you can feel the weight settling on your shoulders as his eyes move over your frame, not even trying to hide it. You finish your coffee then and turn to place it in the sink, taking a deep breath now as you force yourself to try and relax. You’re sure that your cheeks are flushed then, and you clear your throat before you head out of the kitchen quickly. His eyes were on you still and you were hyper aware of the fact that your nipples are still hard, breasts bouncing slightly as you walk.

You had to take a cold shower just to calm yourself down, and by the time you’re dressed and ready for the day, you’d like to imagine that your sexual frustration isn’t obvious to everyone around you. Boone’s already sitting in the living room and when he sees you, he grins at you widely.

“Want anymore coffee?” he asks, glancing down at his phone again. “Luc brewed a fresh pot.” There’s a knowing tone to his voice and you don’t let him see your irritation, instead, murmuring that you were good. You were in jeans and a baggy knit sweater, bag over your shoulder and you’re grateful Seth comes out of his room a second later, oblivious to the tension in the room.

On the drive to the falls, Boone and Seth automatically get in the backseat, letting Pierre take shotgun again. He seems more tense in the car, spending most of the ride looking out the window. In the backseat, Seth and Boone are talking, and when Seth asks if you’re feeling okay, you’re quick to tell him that you coffee just hasn’t kicked in yet. It wasn’t like you could announce to the whole car that you’re ragingly horny because the 20 year old sitting next to you had been fucking you with his eyes earlier.

For the first couple of hours you were at the falls, Pierre seemed to be keeping his distance. You didn’t let it bother you, but once or twice, you could feel his eyes on you. It was distracting to say the least, and it was doing nothing for your sexual frustration, but you didn’t really mind. It was flattering and at least confirmed that he was attracted to you beyond a little crush that wouldn’t lead anywhere. After hitting all of the major tourist spots, the boys decided to grab some lunch and you said you’d find something to eat, you just wanted to wander for a while. Enjoying some alone time, you head back toward the falls to lean against the railing, just to enjoy the sight.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance around idly and see Pierre heading your way. “I thought you were getting lunch,” you say once he’s close enough to hear you.

His first response is to shrug, coming up to stand next to you at the railing on your left. “I just thought I’d come hang out with you for a while instead,” he tells you, and you glance over at him. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable this morning.”

His apology surprises you, and you exhale a quick laugh as you shake your head. “You’re so not sorry,” you tease, and he’s quick to grin then as he shrugs again, laughing softly.

“I’m used to checking you out subtly, but when Boone said you liked being watched, I-” he stops when you cut him off.

“Wait, Boone said what?” you ask, looking up at him with a surprised expression. Immediately, he realizes what he’s said and his cheeks flush a deep red as he starts stammering.

“I, uh―I didn’t ask him for advice or anything,” he says, stumbling over his words before clearing his throat. He’s avoiding meeting your eye, and you’re doing your best to look irritated with him. “He just texted me one day and kind of...gave me some tips on what you like.”

You’re not sure if you’re surprised or not by Boone’s actions, and you’re able to infer that Boone must’ve been the one to bet that you’d sleep with Pierre on the trip. He looks rather ashamed of himself then, and you’re sure that Boone had told him not to mention it to you. Finally, you let yourself laugh at it, turning around then to lean back against the railing. He looks relieved that you’re laughing, a shy smile creeping onto his face then.

“What else did Boone say, huh?” you ask, grinning up at him. Your words earn another blush out of him and he thinks on it for a minute.

“Uh, he told me your favorite color, what you order at bars, your favorite hangover foods,” Pierre tells you, then pauses as he licks his lips before looks over at the falls again. “A couple other things too.” He shrugs a shoulder then and you can tell he’s trying to stop himself from looking too smug.

You shake your head in disbelief, exhaling a breathy laugh as you turn back to look at the falls. From the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s grinning at you, and keeping your eyes where they were, you nudged him with your elbow, cracking a smile rather bashfully.

After that conversation, Pierre no longer kept his distance from you. For the rest of the day, he actually kept close to you, and once again, you could feel his eyes on you. It was distracting to say the least, and you hated that Boone had been able to pick up just how much you enjoyed having someone’s eyes on you, that it left you flushed and warm. And now that Pierre knew? You were in trouble.

After you were done doing tourist activities at the falls, you head back to the cabin to relax for a bit and decide how to spend the evening. Seth found a nearby winery that offered tasting and had a restaurant. Boone got stuck being DD and whined the whole time as you inevitably drank too much wine. You hadn’t realized that the bottle you ordered had such a high alcohol content until it was too late, but really, you were on vacation and you didn’t quite care.

The restaurant attached to the winery had a full bar, which the four of you inevitably ended up at, seated around a table and having a good time. Pierre and Seth went up to grab drinks, and when they came back, Pierre put an amaretto sour down in front of you, and you grinned ear to ear, knowing Boone had told him your favorite drinks. He was sitting next to you, and as you sipped at your drink, you shifted in your seat, enough so that your knee brushed against his.

It didn’t take much longer before the four of you decide to head back to the cabin for the evening. On the way back, Boone pulled into a gas station for some beer and Pierre went in with him, leaving you and Seth in the car. You’re still a little drunk, and from your spot in the backseat, you cleared your throat.

“Did you and Boone make a bet over the chance that I’d sleep with Pierre this weekend?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip.

He had been typing on his phone, and when you spoke, he stops, but doesn’t look up. “Depends. What have you heard?” he asks a second later, going back to typing. His air of secrecy makes makes you scoff and you lean forward in your seat.

“Well, I’m assuming whatever the bet was, Boone is wagering that I’ll fuck him, because he, completely unprompted, sent Pierre some tips about me, I guess. My favorite color, my favorite drink...a couple of my kinks too, I think,” you tell him, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks.

“Son of a bitch,” Seth says, laughing then. “That’s smart, but damn, I can’t believe he’d fucking cheat like that.”

If you weren’t drunk, you probably wouldn’t find Seth’s response as funny as you do, but you start laughing along with him, shaking your head. A second later and you’re sighing, shaking your head. “I really hate that this means that I can’t sleep with Pierre, because I really don’t think Boone deserves to win that bet after cheating like he did,” you say as Seth looks back at you with an impressed grin on his face.

“Damn, you’re really about to cockblock yourself to defend my honor like that?” he teases and you roll your eyes before leaning back in your seat.

“I don’t give a shit about your honor, Jonesy,” you respond with a snort, giggling a second later. “I just want to make be able to make sure Boone doesn’t win this bet, just like he didn’t win the first one, I bet it would really fuck with his ego.” Your words get a laugh out of him and you straighten up in your seat when you see Boone and Pierre coming out of the gas station.

When Pierre climbed into the backseat with you, he saw the he’d bought you a pack of Angry Orchard, setting it by your feet with a grin. Okay, he was pretty sweet.

When you got back to the cabin, you get changed into more comfortable clothes and return to the living room with your hair tied up and with a blanket wrapped around you. It was a little after 10, and you’re tired, but not ready for bed. As you head towards the couch, you see Boone and Seth through the French doors, on the back patio with the fancy electric fire pit on. You’re not sure where Pierre is, but you make yourself comfortable on the couch, grabbing the remote and praying you could figure out how to work the damn thing. You’ve finally figured out how to pull up Netflix when Pierre comes into the living room with a beer in his hand and you grin at him.

“How you feelin’, drunky?” he asks with a teasing smile on his face that makes you roll your eyes.

“I’m fine, thank you very much,” you respond, laughing as you push your hair out of your face. “Boone and Seth are out on the patio.”

Pierre shrugs in response to your words as he comes around to the front of the sofa, tapping your knee gently. “Move your legs real quick,” he says, and you blink at him before doing what he’d said. You sit up, turning so your feet are on the floor. He sits next to you and before you can even move back into your previous position, he’s reaching for you, pulling your legs to rest over his lap. Even if you weren’t drunk, it would’ve surprised you, and you bite your lip as you feel your cheeks heat up. “So, what are we watching?” He says it so casually, his hand resting on your blanket covered thigh.

“I don’t know yet. Any requests?” you ask, trying your best to keep your eyes on the TV. His response is to shrug, which makes you roll your eyes as he looks at you.

“We can watch the Stress Relief episodes of the Office,” he suggests, making a smile slid onto your face as you nod in approval. Now that you’ve figured out the remote, it’s not difficult to find the episodes, and you settle in, feeling ridiculously comfortable with your legs draped over his lap.

He takes a couple of drinks of his beer, stealing glances at you here and there and you pretend not to notice. You can’t believe that you’re so tired this early, and certainly, having the warmth of his body against yours, even if it was just your legs, was enough to make you drowsy. It’s getting hard to keep your eyes open, and when you hear Pierre chuckling softly, you look at him.

“What?” you ask, sure he’s about to tease you for practically dozing off before 11. You sit up more, knowing that was the only thing that would keep you from falling asleep again.

“Nothing,” Pierre says, glancing at you with a quick grin. Rolling your eyes, you shift, moving your feet to rest on the floor in the hopes that sitting up would keep you from dozing off. Without hesitating, he pulls you into his side, arm going around you. You’ve got to admit to yourself that this is more comfortable. He’s warm and smells good, and you let yourself relax against him as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder.

Your guard is coming down. After your conversation earlier and with as comfortable as it felt to be snuggling into him like that, you were a goner. He was so warm, and when you felt his hand come up to rub along your back through your shirt. You’re starting to get drowsy, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as Dwight had his meeting with corporate. Pierre lets himself slide down the couch a bit more, his arm tightening around you.

Before you realize, you’ve dozed off, only waking up about half an hour later to the sound of the door to the patio opening then closing again. You jolt awake and sit up quickly, blinking as you realized that Pierre had fallen asleep too. Seth was the only one who came in, thank God. He’d tease both you and Pierre about it privately, while Boone would’ve made jokes for the rest of the weekend if he’d been the one to come inside.

Seth doesn’t say anything, just grabs a couple more beers from the fridge before heading back outside. Pierre had woken up but was still slumped low on the couch to ensure he didn’t make eye contact with Seth. The door closes a moment later, and you and Pierre exchange looks and immediately, you’re blushing and laughing. He looks a little embarrassed and his cheeks are pink as he smiles back at you.

“I, uh..think I should probably go to bed before I fall asleep on you again,” you say, rubbing your neck as you exhale a soft breath of laughter. It was nearly 11 by then, but after a day playing tourist, you were exhausted despite your short lived nap. Pierre looks down at his lap, licking his lips, and before you can stop yourself you’re leaning into him again, pressing your face into his neck. “You make a really good pillow.” Your words are quietly, muffled into skin.

“Glad I’m good for something at least,” he teases back, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

When you pull back, you want to kiss him, but you hold back. Knowing your luck, Boone would burst in then, and you knew that if you started kissing him, you wouldn’t want to stop. Pierre’s looking at you like he’s thinking about the same thing, and you lean back on the couch then, putting so distance between the two of you.

He’s fidgeting by then, clearing his throat before meeting your eye again. “Do you want to go to brunch tomorrow? I figured we could do something afterwards too, like mini-golf or something.” He’s shrugging then, looking a little nervous.

A grin spreads across your face then, enjoying the bit of bashfulness he’s displaying. “We gonna go to that place you sent me the other day?” you ask, and he nods in response. “Then yeah, I’m in.”

He laughs quickly, smile wide on his face. “What if I’d found somewhere else, would that have been a dealbreaker?” his voice has a tone of amusement to it and you’re smiling, shrugging in response.

“No, I was just making sure, because I looked at their menu and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the banana bread french toast,” you say, shooting him a wink before you stand up.

“The whole menu looked amazing, I’ve been thinking about all of it,” he teases, grinning widely. His eyes are on you, you can feel it, his gaze dropping to your mouth as you exhale a breath of laughter with a nod. Really, you want nothing more than to curl up against him again. Better yet, you’d like to pull him into bed with you, but you doubted that you’d be able to behave.

“That’s fair, honestly, it all looked good,” you say, grinning as you pick up your phone and your blanket. Pierre’s watching you still, and it’s making it harder and harder to walk away and retire to your room.

You had trouble getting to sleep that night, tossing and turning well past 2 AM. It was because of the little cat nap earlier, or at least that’s what you were telling yourself. It certainly wasn’t because you couldn’t get Pierre off your mind. You thought about texting him to see if he was awake, but you didn’t, just turned onto your other side, hoping you’d be more comfortable like that.

Really, you don’t remember falling asleep or how late you were up, but it was one of those sleeps that went by far too quickly. Your alarm goes off at 10 and you roll over with a groan, deciding to press snooze a couple of times before forcing yourself to get in the shower. Twenty minutes later, you’re coming down the hall, brushing your fingers through your hair as you come out to the living room. Pierre is on the couch, watching the Office, and you grin when you see him.

“What, you kept watching without me?” you tease, dropping onto the edge of the sofa next to him. He laughs, looking a little embarrassed that he’d been caught.

“Sorry! I didn’t know I had to wait for you,” he responds, leaning forward then to press a kiss to your shoulder as his arm slid around your waist. The gesture made heat rise up your neck, and you couldn’t help the way that you tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. When he exhales, you feel his breath against your skin. His mouth is hovering an inch above your neck, like he’s trying to resist kissing you there or wondering if he’s allowed to kiss you there.

He pulls away without giving you what your body had been screaming for, and you’re glad that he did. You weren’t sure if Boone and Seth were still there or not, didn’t want to risk being caught by either of them. Heat has risen up the back of your neck and you’re biting your lip, still just as tense as you’d been a moment earlier. You turn your head enough to look at him and the fact that his cheeks are flushed makes you smile.

“Ready for brunch?” you ask softly, hand coming down to pat his knee gently. He nods, grinning, and before you can stop yourself, you move forward, tilting your head up enough to press your mouth against his.

It was a quick kiss, almost chaste even, but he looks surprised either way, eyes dropping to your mouth again, and before he can kiss you again, you stand up. You hear him exhale a breath of laughter at the way you’d moved away so suddenly, and you bite your lip as you push your hair out of your face. Heading toward the front door, you hear him stand up as you step into your shoes.

“That was just plain rude, honestly,” he huffs at you, tone light enough that you know he’s only teasing. He catches up to you at the door and you grin at him widely as you pat your pockets quickly to make sure you’ve got everything you need before heading out. On the way out to your car, his hand takes yours easily and it takes a lot of effort on your part to keep from grinning like an idiot.

end note: this would’ve had several other scenes at the end, leading to a bit of smut, but bc this ended up getting so long already, decided to put it into part three instead to more evenly distribute the length of the chapters 🤗 come at me with comments and responses, loves!!!

#pierre luc dubois #pierre luc dubois imagine #pierre-luc dubois #columbus blue jackets imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #mine #not smut #pierre-luc dubois imagine #sykwomm

[mlovesstories]

A Family Attitude Part 5

Warnings, low self-esteem, language maybe, strong Ally

Word Count 1600

Jensen x daughter!reader

Ally!nanny x platonic!child reader 

Summary: YN has a boost of self-esteem.  

A Family Attitude Series

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“Hey, Daddy!” YN squealed when she saw Jensen come home on a Thursday night.

“Hey, sweetheart! I missed you.”  He walked further into the living room and watched as his daughter ran into his arms. “You doing good?”

“Yep!” She beamed. “You didn’t have to come home for me, Dad. I’m fine.”

“It was my choice. You don’t need to worry, okay?” He squeezed her tightly and spoke quietly into her ear.

“Okay,” she whispered back.

“You have the day off tomorrow, right?” He leaned back to see her face.

“Yeah, it’s grading day for teachers.”

Jensen grabbed her hand and guided her to the couch and tucked her in next to him. She leaned against his left side.

“I’m assuming you are on top of your homework already. You and me are going to go out and have some fun tonight and then hang out tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Yes.” She calmly smiled.

“When I’m done with you, you’ll see how awesome you are, okay?” He rubbed her back.

“Okay,” she sighed, indifferent.

——-

The next morning they went to their favorite breakfast spot. YN excitedly ordered the largest plate she could, her dad’s eyes growing wide.

“What? I’m hungry. Dean isn’t the only hungry one in this family,” she smiled. “Besides, I can take home the leftovers and eat it again tomorrow!” YN laughed.

“Okay, okay. I judged too quickly. I’m sorry,” he put his hands up and giggled. Once the waitress had disappeared around the corner, he said,” You’re beautiful. You’re funny and so smart. You’re so driven, and I’m so glad you don’t procrastinate like I do. You definitely got that from your mom,” Jensen grinned, remembering his wife. “She’d be so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Dad, don’t bring her into this please.” YN took her hand away from her father and looked elsewhere.

“I just- you’re amazing, and I want you to know that.”

————

“Come here, YN.” Jensen motioned with his fingers.

They had walked through the door and dropped their things when her father called for her.

“Yeah?” She didn’t move, missing his wanting her to follow him.

“Come on.” Jensen stuck his head out of the bathroom. She walked slowly, recognizing that he was acting strangely. “Face the mirror and-“ YN recognizes his tactics and backed up.

“Dad, I don’t need a confidence lesson.” She stopped outside of the restroom and crossed her arms. Jensen followed her sadly. “Why can’t you see how awesome you are?  I called someone…”

“Dad- what did you do?”

“Ally!” Jensen called for his nanny.  She came down the stairs. “Please do what I asked of you earlier.” She nodded, walked past Jensen, and grabbed YN’s hand.

“What are you doing here? My dad is home, you have the day off.” YN confusedly inquired as she was dragged in front of the mirror in the hall.

“Your dad needed assistance. Mr. Ackles, get over here. You need this too.”

Jensen laughed at her sternness.

Only she can get away with that and be my employee.

“Coming!” He called back.  Jensen walked into the hall.  

“Now you, young lady, are going to listen to me. No running.” She took a beat.  “Look at yourself.” Ally commanded.  YN huffed and gave in.  She looked at her figure staring back at her.  Ally had her hands on YN’s shoulders just in case she tried to leave. Jensen walked in front of the mirror next to Ally.  

“I want you to tell me what features you like about yourself.”  Ally prompted.

“Ally-”

“Shut it, YN.  Tell me.”

“I can’t,” she admitted.

“Ackles, you’re up.  What do you like about yourself?”  Ally asked Jensen.  He was taken aback by her question.

I thought this was about YN.  

“I like my freckles, the color of my hair, and how tall I am,”  he said answered after a few seconds of thinking.  He took over for Ally and tried to give YN some momentum.  “I like your smile.  I love your laugh.  And you have your mom’s nose.”  Jensen grinned as he complimented his daughter.  “Your turn.”

“Umm…” she played with her fingers.

“Okay, hold on.”  Jensen started.  “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”  He broke down her assignment even more.  Blankly, she followed instructions.  “Do you agree with me?”  He lifted her chin so that they made eye contact via the mirror.  YN shook her head.  “One thing, then.”

“I like my eyes.  They’re exactly like yours,” she said, emotionless.  

“You know what I like?”  Ally asked.  YN looked at her. “I like that you’re taller than me. It makes me laugh because i am the one that is supposed to be taller.  Beyond that, you’re sweet and respectful.  You try and attempt everything at least once.  You listen to me even though I know you want your dad here.  I appreciate that,” Ally said with a kiss on YN’s cheek.  “You will tell each other one thing you like about yourselves every day for a week.” She pointed between both Ackles’.  “Now, I need to go on a hot date, so I’ll leave her in your capable hands, Mr. Ackles.”  Ally concluded.  

“Thank you,” YN whispered.  Ally wouldn’t have heard it for the fact she was right next to her.  The nanny wrapped her arms around YN from behind her.  “I love you,” she said.

“I love you too,” Ally spoke softly.  “Be nice to yourself.  I’ll tell you about my date on Monday, okay?” She knew YN would want all the details.

“Okay.” YN grinned and wiped a tear from her eye.  “I need a minute, Dad.  I’m going to my room for a sec.”  With that, she walked into her room.  

“Thank you, Ally.”  Jensen nodded toward YN’s room.  His shoulders relaxed.

“You need to get ahold of this, Ackles.  I love her, but she is your kid.  She wants you.”

“I know.  Thanks for saving me.” He walked her out.  

“You owe me, Ackles.”  Ally beamed.  “You can pay me back with a spoiler for the new season.”  She crossed her arms ready for a playful power struggle.

“No!  You have to wait.  I’ll pay for your hot date tonight.  Here.”  He handed her some cash with a chuckle.  

“I was kidding.  I don’t need anything,” she put it on the entry table.  “I came over because you two mean the world to me.  Now it’s your turn.  Compliment her qualities, she needs it.  She needs a personality boost.  Have a good night, Ackles.”  Ally left the Austin home with a wave.  

———

“No.”

“Mom, it’s my life.” Jensen defended.

“You are not ready. And you just had an intervention with Ally from what I heard from her earlier.  Do not put me in a position where I have to fix YN because you messed her up. Wait to take your relationship with Danneel to the next level until they truly get along.  If you don’t, it will only get worse.  Go ask Jared. I’m sure he has read some article on this or something.”

Jensen rolled his eyes as he spoke to his mother via a voice call.

“Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me, boy.”

“How-“

“I love you, but don’t do this until YN is ready. Please.”

“Fine, Ma. I won’t. I love you.” He hung up the phone as YN walked in and crashed against him on the couch. “You do know that there is like ten feet of couch over there, right? You practically landed on top of me.” He laughed. She snuggled into him without a response. “You’re only quiet when something’s wrong. What’s up?” YN curled into him even more and pulled his blanket over her own body. .

“I just want you.”

“I want you too… what’s going on?” He tried to look at her face but she hid, burying her face in his cotton T-shirt.

“I’m tired. I’m so tired,” she mumbled through the material.

“I’m so sorry. You want to go to bed?” He tried to see her face again but no luck.

“No, I want you.”

“Honey, I’m confused.”

“I want my dad. I want you to tell me I’m fine.”

“Wait, what?  Is something wrong?” Jensen grew more than concerned.

“School is so hard right now. I just want you to tell me it’s okay.”

“Of course. You’re a fantastic student and you will push through because you are dedicated and you care.” He rubbed her back.

“And I want to go to UT.” YN looked up at him.

“Wha- huh?” He looked at her blankly. “You’re fifteen, we don’t have to worry about what school you go to til you’re a senior.”

“I know, but I want to. I have to do good now to get in.” She said, stressed .

“I’m very proud of you, but it’s not worth killing yourself over when you already do well anyway. You gotta pace yourself.” He calmed her. She lied her head back down against his chest.

“No time, gotta do well to-“ she started to stand from the couch.

“Shhh. Come here. Are you done with everything due Monday?” He asked as he pulled her to him.

“Yes, but I have extra credit due Wednes-“

“No. Stay here with me so we can watch some horrible TV.” Jensen joked.

“Dad, I have-“

“I said no, come on, sweetheart. You’ll make yourself sick. Plus I have tons of conventions coming up. I won’t see you as much and I’ll miss you. Just be here with me right now, okay?” She saw the pleading expression on his face.

“Okay, Daddy.” She have a small smile.

A Family Attitude Series

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[closetspngirl]

Love Heals the Soul (Part 37) - Unspoken

Summary: A few things are left unspoken...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 1384

The following couple of months went about much like the last couple had, nights included. The cast came off and you had your torture…er, therapy appointments with Scott, Jensen helping you with them at home. You had been good about doing, despite the fact that they were a pain in the ass. But when you considered what Jensen was holding against you, thinking back to that day he told you his little proposition at your appointment, you did them.

You were in a brace for your right arm and trying to be independent with your day-to-day life, the only problem being that you weren’t left handed. I sure as hell better come out of this ambidextrous. It was however easier having your right arm in a brace, than it was in a cast. At least now you could take it off and have some function.

Jensen was getting ready for another convention tour, which you felt better about this time around since you could actually go with him. You were pretty much done at the café, not having been there in almost five months, since you made the cake for Jensen. They always said you were welcome back whenever you wanted, but you knew you couldn’t do what you loved to the full extent. The plus side to that was that you could tour with Jensen, so you weren’t horribly upset at the trade off.

Jensen found you one morning sitting at the kitchen bar, moving your hand around in a bowl of popcorn kernels to sensitize your fingers. This was one of your favorite activities, it was oddly calming and seemed weird, and slightly pointless, but it helped to get the feeling back.

“Hey, baby?” he asked, coming over to sit next to you at the bar kissing you on your head.

“Yeah?”

“So we start the tour in a few weeks. Before that happens, some of the shows here wanted to try to get some people together, just to hang out, have a barbecue, few drinks and maybe some music or something. I just got a text from Stephen saying that he already had a few other people say ok. What do you think?” He was helping you now with some of the exercises, as you sat there pondering your answer. “It’s not a formal thing. Jeans and a t-shirt if you want to. Like I said, it’s just some of the cast members having a get together. No press, no nothing. Just fun.”

“You’re asking if I want to join you in going to a party with a bunch of other people who happen to work on TV shows,” you asked, face deadpanned.

“…Uh…yes? You don’t have to. I wasn’t sure how you were feeling, and if you’d be up for going-“

“Jen,” you cut him off now smiling, a finger of the hand he wasn’t holding now on his lips. “I was kidding. I’d love to go.”

“Great! I think Rob and Jason may go as well, little musical entertainment. I’ll let you know the details when they get figured out.”

--- Jensen’s POV

I had so many ideas floating around in my head; I just didn’t know where to start, or what to do. I already talked to Stephan about Rob going. We would need some sort of music, and it would also help with one of my ideas. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my recent texts, looking for a particular thread.

Hey Bri! Got a second?

Sure, what’s going on?

So…this party we’re having this weekend, you going?

…yeah?

Well…I’ve been thinking…that…

Jen…tell me. I mean I probably already know. You do know who you’re talking to, right? …

What? I’m observant. And her best friend. And more than ok with whatever you have in mind. You know I love you, and I’ve loved seeing you two together. You’ve been good for her, and she’s been the same for you.

Thanks Bri. :)

That means a lot.

<3

---

Hey G, I was wondering if you would be up for a drink sometime this week.

Hey J, sure! We’re done filming on Wednesday, then I was just going to help Stephen get ready for this weekend.

Awesome. Thursday ok? I have something I want to run by you for this weekend.

Cool, just let me know where you want to meet.

--- Reader POV

Briana was over while Jensen was at work for the day, the two of you having some much needed catch up time. You had spent the morning at the little brunch spot near by, did a little shopping and were currently sitting on the sofa watching through your favorite 80s movies.

“I’m going to go grab some water, want anything?” You asked Bri, uncovering yourself from the blanket you were sharing on the couch.

“Nah, I’m good.”

You went to the fridge to grab the pitcher of water, pulling a glass from the cabinet. Filling the glass you returned the pitcher to the fridge, taking a drink as your eyes caught the calendar on the fridge door.

July 17…wow, the second surgery was already two months ago…wait…two months?…I haven’t…It can’t have already been two months…stress?...No…shit, I haven’t been taking it since before…and we….

You let out an audible gasp as the glass slipped and crashed to the floor, sending now invisible shards of glass and chilled water everywhere. The temperature and sound not affecting you, your eyes still glued to the calendar. You didn’t even hear Briana running into the kitchen.

“Y/N! What’s…what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t see her standing there looking at you confused as you were damn near catatonic, just like Cameron had been after he saw Sloan topless not 20 minutes ago in Ferris Beuller’s Day Off.

“Y/N, look at me. Tell me what’s wrong. Is it your hand? What happened-“ “Bri…”

“Babe you gotta tell me what’s going on,” she told you, starting to get frantic since you weren’t answering her.

“I…I’m pretty sure…” you stuttered, eyes still locked on the calendar.

You turned to face her the second you heard your full name come from Briana, looking at her wide-eyed.

“I think I’m pregnant,” you said, your hand and gaze falling to your still flat stomach.

You didn’t know what emotion to feel. Of course you were excited, you would love to have a family with Jensen. But you were scared, the two of you hadn’t talked about it, hell, you hadn’t even talked about getting married yet. You always loved seeing him with Jared or Misha’s kids, he was amazing with them, so of course you thought about him with children of your own. But now that it could actually be happening? You weren’t sure what to think. It wasn’t until you were focused back into reality that you saw that smile wide on Briana’s face, her eyes glistening.

“Are we happy?” she asked you slowly, obviously sensing your hesitation, knowing there were indeed a thousand and one thoughts going through your head.

You thought for another second, a smile finding its way to your face. “We are. So happy.”

“Good! However, you need to hold that thought and watch your step. Let me clean this up for you.”

“Yeah. I should probably start using a plastic cups, huh? So I don’t break my way through all of our glassware,” you said with an almost forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

You didn’t bother to argue with her as you managed to hop up on the counter without stepping anywhere else. You were lost in your head now, sure that you were pregnant. Everything was adding up. You had been feeling more tired lately and you had missed your period. You had just attributed it to the stress and meds for screwing everything up. But then you remembered that you hadn’t been taking your birth control for the last few months because of everything else you were taking, and neither of you had been careful. You hadn’t even thought about it.

“Bri, do you think maybe we could go to the store today and pick up a test? Then call the doctor and make an appointment? I don’t want to tell Jen until I know for sure.”

“Absolutely sweetie, we’ll go when this is cleaned.”

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#love heals the soul #jensen x reader #spn