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#and I got guilted into working Monday because literally no one else can
the-final-sif · 2 years
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Also i am slightly afraid people will take Dream not saying much as some sort of guilt and not as his lawyer or pr person (if he has ether, sounds like he does) telling him he should not say stuff that hasn't been reviewed beforehand/to shut up while they handle it.
Now, admittedly, I literally refuse to enter the twitter landscape outside of investigating reported information, but honestly from what I've seen at least on reddit and elsewhere, they've actually taken it to mean the opposite. Amanda kinda did a lot of harm to her case/the public perception of her credibility (even if it could be an understandable response to stress, it is unhelpful and new claims/stating she had evidence and then admitting she didn't brought a lot of public doubt. Some people have begun no longer trusting her claims at all. I personally don't think that's fair, and that she still absolutely deserves to be heard, treated with respect, and be allowed the same chance to provide evidence as anyone else. However, I do understand why people may have begun to mistrust her or given her claims less weight).
Dream, by remaining quiet outside of his one statement, effectively didn't give people any bait or anything to work with outside of his one response. This gave people a chance to calm down, look at what's been presented, and come to terms with the fact we don't currently have answers and we might not for awhile yet. If he is really taking legal action, then the wait is understandable, and from what I've seen, most people have seen remaining quiet at the smart choice.
Kersplusion on r/dreamwastaken 2 has actually been running polls every so often, which, while absolutely not perfect (they changed question wording, utterly belothed) and certainly going to have biases, do reveal an interesting trend, given that roughly the same number of users have been polled and we can assume that it's going to at least roughly the same population of users over time.
The first poll they posted was right after Dream posted his response (late friday), it got 860 responses and the numbers worked out like this;
Yes, some of it is fake and he’s taking legal action 30.70%
No, it’s real. And they will silence victims 8.72%
I don’t think he’s committed a crime anyways 16.40%
I’m still processing 44.19%
The second poll they ran was on Saturday, in the midst of a lot of the twitter storm, and had 958 responses that broke down like this;
The sexting is fake 15.34%
The sexting is real 5.64%
No crime was committed 22.03%
I’m still processing/waiting 56.99%
In that roughly one day period, nearly 3% of people who thought the incident was real dropped off. 15% of people switched (likely because "some of it is fake" was changed into "the sexting is fake") into either "No crime was committed" or "Still waiting". Which leads to our final (still ongoing atm but at 854 responses at the time of posting) poll, done today (monday).
The alleged sexting was real, Dream is guilty 3.75%
The alleged sexting was fake, Dream is innocent 21.66%
No crime was committed 21.90%
I’m still waiting 52.69%
Since Saturday, the number of people who believe the sexting was real has sharply dipped to just 3.75%. The number of people waiting has dipped by about 4%, and the number of people who think the sexting is fake is up by a little over 6%.
Now, again, these numbers aren't perfect by any means. The wording of questions changed, and plenty of biases in the way the questions were written. But I do think that it reveals a very interesting trend. Despite Dream having only made one statement on the matter, the number of people who think he's guilty has been steadily dropping. Whether this is because of external factors or not, it is still revealing that apparently, "shut up and go talk to a lawyer" has (within the limitations of these polls), been an effective public opinion management strategy compared to the alternative.
Now, again, I will restate my own personal belief that I am firmly in the waiting category. I don't think we have enough evidence to make a call one way or another. I want all parties treated with respect, and to be given a chance to make their case in a more rational setting. I just wanted to offer this data up because I did find the trends interesting. I also think that it will help offer assurance, that no, at least within this polled population, people do not appear to be assuming that silence is guilt.
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whoiwanttoday · 1 year
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There is no drag like a Monday after a holiday. I am not the type to be all like, "ARGH Mondays" or "Ack!" or some other hacky comic strip shit. Like, it's just a day and it's mostly fine but man, after a Holiday so much of me doesn't want to go. There is voice in the back of my head going, "What if we never worked again? Is there a way we could pull that off?" This is because after 5 days in a row off I am totally out of my routine and guys, I fucking hate routines. You'll likely get terrible advice from people over the years and a couple of gems are, "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life" and "if you dread going to work it's time to change jobs". This is of course horseshit. What I love is not having responsibilities. I like having zero obligations and the freedom that comes with that. The fact that if I want to sleep until noon I can. If I want to get up and watch the sun rise and then spend the day shopping for Christmas decorations I can. Master of my domain and all that nonsense. This is inherently childish but it is how I feel and there is no job where they pay you to do whatever you want. And I generally like my job so no it's not time to quit, I just literally have never in my life worked a job I would rather be at than doing something else. Anything else. Even when the work is engaging and fun the idea of leaving it and going home to play video games and order delivery sounds way better. It just does. That's because most jobs are not magical dream factories where you never work a day in your life. They're a place you go so you can put food on the table and a roof over your head. It's why you see very, very few people who were born wealthy working in coal mines. It doesn't matter how fucking much they like dinosaurs they can get their fix other ways. Every job kinda sucks is my point but you also have to pick your spots when it comes to complaining as no one wants to hear someone with a better job bitch about their job. It's just not a thing that people want. I am posting Sydney Sweeney who is famous by most measures of it (certainly more famous than me and I have been doing this for more than a decade so where is the justice in that) and certainly affluent by most measures (again probably has more access to money than most of us reading this. Maybe not, maybe you're all stock brokers) but she is neither as famous or as well paid as she would have been if she had gotten famous in 1983. It's been some time but I saw an interview with her where she complained she doesn't really make as much money as people assume but everyone she knows sort of expects her to pay for stuff for her. I deeply felt this because I have a lot of family members with no boundaries and I could very easily make a list of names of which if I won the lottery tomorrow they would try to guilt me into buying them shit. Like, without fail they would not only expect it they would use all the weapons in their arsenal to pressure me into giving them money and I'd probably do it because I'm a chump who would feel like I didn't really earn this money. I'd feel the same way if I were famous I think. Like, did I really earn this $500,000 pay check? No, not like a coal miner did. No matter how much that coal miner loves dinosaurs he's still going to die of black lung and I bet his back hurts way more than mine. Thus I would feel bad about the coal miner and hand over my money to an uncle who I would point out not only never mined coal, he largely fell ass backwards into good situations cause he's a white male baby boomer and when he fucked up every one of those situations his parents bailed him out and bought him houses and paid down his debts and so on. But I'd give him my money so I fully got the gripe from Sydney Sweeney. I have a friend however who did not and it was one more mark in the "Fuck Sydney Sweeney" column for her. And not in the nice way I have on my spreadsheet of people I have posted here. And I get that, as bothersome as it might be and as much as it might burn to know that being an actress is not quite the life of leisure that she thought it was she's probably not worrying about if she can afford her heating bill this winter. So I get it. I have some sympathy though. Because you know... I have a good job but the last thing I want to do is drag my ass into work today. Today I want to fuck Sydney Sweeney.
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Probably not the last school post but I really need to make a decision and true to overthinking fashion, I’m probably going to spend my entire weekend grappling with this decision.
I think I’m leaning toward taking a break. I need to know by Monday.
The rest of this is just processing.
The video I posted yesterday really resonated with me. Elyse said “the right thing at the wrong time is still the wrong thing”
I think, at times, I tend to really gaslight myself spiritually (the traumatized 90s church kids get it haha). We’re taught “God won’t give us anything we can’t handle.” But I’m also realizing (through school since it’s a Christian university and we do devotionals every week) that God also gives us discernment and wisdom.
Everything seemed to be lining up so perfectly for school. I was supposed to start in 2021, but the program shut down. It ended up that 2021 was one of my worst years of life (there was literally something traumatic that happened every month), I got transferred to a school with a really great curriculum set up, we ended up moving into a two bedroom so I could have separation from work, my job moved me closer to home which cut down on commute time, I got a pay raise which would help with the costs of school. It just so happened that all of this was happening around the time school started. So it felt “right”, it felt “God ordained.”
Looking back in this very moment, maybe it wasn’t for the purpose of school. Maybe it wasn’t for the purpose of anything in particular. Maybe it fell into place for wedding planning and the wedding, maybe it was an opportunity to work on my physical and mental health. Whatever it was, I focused on school and have been forcing myself to keep pushing because “this is where God wants me to be”
Elyse also said that sometimes you have to say no when the timing isn’t right not because of fear or imposter syndrome, but because of your limits at this time.
I think I struggle with this part the most, but I feel more affirmed looking at it this way. I’ve struggled with the “why” do I want to leave. I’m very hard on myself and I feel a lot of guilt and pressure from my parents. Their thoughts become my thoughts. Is it because I’m lazy? Because I want to do nothing after work? Because I’m afraid of the internship? Because I’d rather go out with friends? Am I incapable? But it’s none of that.
I know I am 100% capable of finishing grad school. I’ve proven through 4 classes now that I am capable. It can’t be laziness or else I’d never turn things in. Not only am I able to do the assignments, I’m getting all A’s. My lowest grade so far was a 96% and that’s because I skipped doing an assignment because I just had too many things going on to do it. Fear is not what is holding me back.
“An opportunity that seems perfect can swallow you whole and spit you back out and take a lot more from your life than it will give to you”
THIS. When I weight the pros and cons of each decision, there are way more cons of leaving. But when I put them on a weighted scale, the pros of leaving wins by a landslide. I think the reasons I’m leaving have more value than the reasons I’d be staying. My mental and physical health need to be a priority because that’s what gives me the strength to do life. I think that maybe I needed a hard push from life to understand that. Even my sleep schedule is crucial because sleep is what helps regulate our moods, maintain our physical health, process memories and retain learning, and probably so many other things. The fact that I am getting 4-5 hours of poor sleep a night Could be reason enough to pause. I really only say that because I’m still trying to adjust to this new work county and learning how to set forth boundaries on my time. Therefore I’m just not sleeping when I have to leave my house at 630 in the morning for a meeting an hour away, etc.
At this point, school seems to be taking more than its giving. Again, I put so much pressure on myself to be perfect. Perfection in this situation is continuing to get all A’s, graduate on track, be at every work meeting no matter how late I went to sleep, be there for every family function, be available any time a friend wants to spend time. That’s…not humanly possible. I think that no matter when I’m in school, there will always be something I have to sacrifice and unfortunately that tends to be friends and family. But with time, I think I can adjust work expectations and school expectations. I think if I work on my mental health, I will be more capable of balancing all of these things. If I am in better physical health (I’m talking about menstrual/hormonal issues, my weight, my sleep) I will be more capable of balancing everything.
Right now, I feel like school is taking everything from me. I’ve been having a lot of flashbacks again of my first marriage (I don’t understand why, other than I think when I’m stressed, it reminds me of the stress I felt back then) and taking it out on M. This isn’t okay. I’m also having a lot of emotions resurfacing from undergrad - that same feeling of loss of control, hopelessness, pressure. These things almost broke me. And my biggest fear is that if I don’t get a handle on my mental health, I may not be so lucky next time.
But then there’s that other side of this where I feel so dramatic. Like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. That I’m romanticizing this break. I have 11 more months to go. Why can’t I just do it? But I think my mental health is important enough for this break. I have to make changes in my life, for real this time. And I think I finally have tangible motivation and goals to help me succeed.
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have to type all my thoughts out or else i won’t be able to focus on everything else i gotta work on (bad adderall trait is just. hyperfocus on the wrong thing like this. complaining abt it but hey. even this is a form of ? work. of thinking and discussing. of journaling maybe)
1 adderall shortage. i took one today and have two more. i’ll save em for tutoring days/mondays which will give me a grace period of tuesday + wednesday for ? getting tasks done until i can’t rly do anything thursday-sunday/until like what? fucking april? thankfully i have enough clonazepam so i can take half of that at a time at least for anxiety if i need to go out or if my mental health gets bad without adderall (before it was Normal bc i knew it was bad but i just. wasn’t bothered by it. now it’s like i know what being able to function feels like and going without that is horrible. just feeling useless and down bc of it and UGH it’s literally the fucking worst it’s tough to explain
2 i did buy a lot of drinks though for the non adderall days. i have lipton iced tea (watermelon green, green w citrus) and some pink lemonade for non-adderall days, a vanilla latte coffee jug, a caramel ?macchiato? coffee jug, a blonde roast coffee jug, and a small peppermint latte drink (and like an Inch of coffee in another drink leftover lol) plus a bunch of hot cocoa bombs for either kind of day. so at least i’m keeping positive and thinking of this time as coffee drinkie time!!!
3 BUT i feel like i fucking wasted my fucking adderall today BECAUSE yes i had tutoring and adderall means i don’t have a lot of anxiety in the way i did before. not that it cures agoraphobia or anything but i just don’t overthink things. yeah i still have other anxiety but !!! it’s a lot better w all these medications at play. SO YES I FELT I NEEDED TO TAKE IT AND YES I FEEL GOOD RN BUT i was gonna make smashed potatoes for dinner and my mom was like and? and i’m like i literally don’t know i just had the potatoes listed but hey! it’s cooking! it’s a thing to eat! but it’s never fucking good enough bc it’s not a “meal.” she’s always fucking asking “what we have for meals” when i don’t fuckign work like that. i have energy to make potatoes so we’re having fucking potatoes, eggs if u want sure! but i am not going to spend three hrs cooking chicken that she thinks u can throw plain into the oven CHICKEN I WILL NOT EAT I AM NOT SPENDING ALL THIS TIME AND ENERGY, EVEN IF IT’S EASY ADDERALL ENERGY, ON FOOD I WILL NOT EAT
4 plus she offered up wendy’s instead and i’m like. i couldn’t even cook tonight. i had a chicken sandwich that was almost too much chicken and i just. Why was it not good enough for u. even if i wanted to make a three course meal (she’s always asking for sides), how am i expected to do that every day of the week. how am i expected to do that mon-wed on adderall when i have other things i want to do and will have limited appetite bc of the adderall
5 apparently she told my sister she hates my cooking? even tho i’m only taking the sugar out entirely bc she’s diabetic??? and i only do that for pancakes???? i cook fucking melted (fondant) potatoes and smashed potatoes and good pancakes and eggs just like most ppl and baked bread and snacks like ??? fuck OFF
6 so like. i also explained that i’m not having a recent influx of food sensory issues, i’m just being honest w myself and not guilting myself into feeling like i need to eat things i’m disgusted by BC I GOT TOLD BY HER + BY A FAMILY FRIEND THAT ME SWITCHING TO LOWFAT MILK FROM WHOLE MILK IS CAUSING MY SENSORY ISSUES. I LITERALLY GOT “MILK CAUSES AUTISM”ED
7 but apparently she heard none of this, as always, ignoring my history of food sensory issues, ignoring that i’m prioritizing my comfort w food choices, ignoring that i’m prioritizing my own food and cooking preferences in terms of what i cook/focusing on what i’ll eat and not the # of sides, AND I KNOW SHE ALWAYS DOES THIS BUT I FINALLY FEEL LIKE I’M MAKING HEADWAY AND THAT SHE UNDERSTANDS WHAT I’M SAYING BUT SHE NEVER DOES
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getlostsquidward · 3 years
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The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)
Lou Miller x fem!reader
A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!
Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?
Part one
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“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”
“Nice place.”
“Try heating it.”
“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”
Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.
She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.
The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?
Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.
“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.
Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.
“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.
Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”
“Tell me about her.”
The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.
The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.
She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.
In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.
Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.
“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”
The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.
“I do. No need to remind me.”
“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”
“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.
-
You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.
Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?
The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.
-
“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.
“I love that!” Lou quipped.
“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”
Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.
“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.
“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.
“The what?”
“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.
“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.
She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.
After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”
The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.
“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”
Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.
Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.
What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.
The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.
“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”
“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”
“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.
Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.
“We will not be the prime suspect.”
“Then who will be the prime suspect?”
Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.
“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.
“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”
Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.
“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”
You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”
While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.
“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”
You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.
“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”
“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.
Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.
The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.
That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.
“Lou?”
“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.
“You have to thank Debs for that.”
Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”
“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”
Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”
Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.
“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.
“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.
You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.
There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.
The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.
“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.
“I know, Lou. I love you too.”
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starlingflight · 3 years
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@thisismegz as requested, the missing scenes from Everything I Wanted of Ginny dealing with her guilt over how things went between her and Dean. 
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The sun felt especially bright contrasted as it was by nearly a full day in the dungeons with no one but Snape for company. Harry savoured the way the light summer breeze tickled his uncovered arms and the way Ginny’s hand felt in his as they made their way out into the grounds. 
It seemed the majority of Hogwarts’ population had decided to take advantage of the good weather, for the lawn beside the lake was crowded with huddles of students. Their usual tree was already taken by a noisy group of fourth-year girls and so Ginny led him to a free patch of grass not far from the lake's stony shore. She sat cross-legged on the ground, pulling Harry with her. 
He went to position himself beside her but Ginny clearly had other ideas, she shuffled slightly, placing her hands on his shoulders and smoothly guided Harry’s head into her lap so that he was lying on the soft grass with Ginny above him, her fingers tracing lightly across his forehead. 
“If your brother sees this he’s going to lose his mind,” Harry warned, though in truth he was finding it difficult to care. The headache that had been building behind his eyes, caused by a long day in the dark, stuffy dungeon was receding with every stroke of Ginny’s fingers over his skin.
Unsurprisingly, Ginny seemed to care even less about Ron’s reaction than Harry did. Her only response to his warning was to gently slide his glasses off and place them carefully on the grass beside them, making it easier for her fingers to trace the features of his face without obstruction. 
Neither of them said anything for a while, Ginny was now little more than a blur of creamy skin and striking red hair above him. Eventually, Harry let his eyes slowly drift closed, revelling in the feel of her fingers on his face and the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo drifting to him on the summer breeze. 
Snape became nought but a distant memory under Ginny’s careful attention and Harry was vaguely considering that there was a strong chance he was going to fall asleep, warm and content as he was, when Ginny broke the silence between them. 
“I think I'm going to apologise to Dean," She declared. 
It took Harry a moment to register what she’d said, his brain felt fuzzy from the heat. When his wits finally caught up with him, Harry almost asked her why but he immediately realised he didn’t need to. 
He’d seen the guilt on Ginny’s face last night and he’d felt the same thing himself. They’d both admitted they’d been in denial about their feelings for each other for a while and maybe that was no one’s fault but it didn’t change the fact that Dean had been caught up in it. 
“If I tell you I think it’s a bad idea are you going to think it’s because I’m jealous or threatened or something?” 
Ginny's fingers were still stroking lightly across his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, across his forehead and Harry found that it was almost impossible to feel jealous given his current situation. 
“No,” She said mildly. “I’m going to ask you why you think that, though.” 
He’d rather she didn’t but if Harry was being honest with himself, he knew her better than to expect Ginny to blindly accept what he was saying. “I’ve been in his position. I watched you with him for months, and I didn’t expect you to break up or begrudge either of you your happiness or anything but…” 
Harry trailed off, still not used to telling anyone his deepest feelings and still not entirely comfortable with it. 
"But?" Ginny prompted, one of her hands working its way up into Harry's hair, massaging his scalp. He felt himself relax immediately. 
"But there isn't anything you could have said to me to make me feel better about the situation, to make me not want you." 
Ginny's hands didn't stop their slow exploration of his hair for even a second. "It's not the same thing," She said without missing a beat. 
"How isn't it?" 
"It was never like this with Dean," Ginny unwound one of her hands from his hair in order to gesture between the two of them before quickly returning it, much to Harry's delight. "I was never this happy, not even at the start. The thing that you were waiting for is so much better than what Dean lost." 
Secretly, Harry wholeheartedly disagreed with this. The thing that he'd been waiting for, the thing that Dean lost, was Ginny and there were no words on the planet that could ease the devastating blow that Harry already knew would come from ever losing her. 
"You really want to talk to him?" Harry asked, knowing it was pointless to argue with her when she'd already made her mind up. 
“I really do,” Ginny responded and Harry knew the matter was settled. 
“Okay,” He agreed. “Did you want to go now?” He added reluctantly, he could quite happily stay in this spot for the rest of his life. 
“No,” Ginny said quickly, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to get out of detention, you’re staying right where you are.” 
**
Ginny and Dean did not cross paths for the rest of the weekend. Nor was he anywhere to be seen at breakfast or lunch on Monday. Ginny was beginning to strongly suspect that he was avoiding her when she quite literally walked into him on her way out of Ancient Runes on Monday afternoon. 
“Sorry - oh!” Dean’s apologetic smile faltered as he took Ginny in. 
“I’ve been looking for you!” Ginny said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, though Dean still didn’t look cheered at her pronouncement. 
“Er, have you?” 
“Yeah, do you mind if we go somewhere and talk?” 
Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously in a way that made Ginny’s heart sink. They’d been friends for years, they’d been close since the first D.A. meeting and now the two of them had reached a point where the prospect of holding a conversation was enough to set Dean on edge. 
“It’ll be really quick, I promise.” Ginny tried again, hoping her face held as much sincerity as she currently felt. 
“Alright,” Dean said reluctantly, gesturing for Ginny to lead the way. 
There was a low wooden bench halfway down the corridor, under a row of mullioned windows which revealed the sweeping vistas of the Hogwarts grounds and the lake. If nothing else, at least the view would be pleasant. 
Ginny took a seat on the bench and Dean followed her lead; she couldn’t help but note he was sitting as far away from her as physically possible. One good shove and he’d topple over onto the castle’s stone floor. 
“How have you been?” She began cautiously. 
“Fine,” Dean responded. Ginny raised a sceptical eyebrow. Dean had always been forthcoming with his feelings, one-word answers weren’t his style at all. “I’ve been good, Ginny. I’ve been working on my art - I’ve had a lot of emotion to channel into my drawings, I think I’ve got some really good ones for my portfolio.” 
Ginny nodded, trying not to think too hard about what emotions Dean may have been using to fuel his creative pursuits. “You were always very talented.” 
It was Dean’s turn to raise a dubious eyebrow at Ginny now. “Is that what you wanted to say to me? You like my drawings?”
“No, I wanted to apologise,” She said slowly, half-expecting Dean to shut her down before she’d explained herself. When he said nothing, but continued to look at her expectantly Ginny took a deep breath before continuing. “I should have ended things between us long before I did. I knew your feelings were stronger than mine and I shouldn’t have kept stringing you along.” 
Dean listened patiently as Ginny spoke, but he began to shake his head in disagreement as she finished. “That wasn’t what bothered me. It was that I could clearly see where things were going between the two of you, but you were so adamant that I was seeing things that weren’t there. It was frustrating.” 
Ginny began to fiddle nervously with the ends of her hair, slipping the long strands between the ends of her fingers. “You’re right,” She said quietly, looking not at Dean but out of the window where she could just make out the Giant Squid’s tentacles rising out of the water in the distance. “I know it probably doesn’t help, but I hope you know I wasn’t lying to you on purpose - I really believed our banter and joking was innocent, it was unbelievable to me that Harry might actually have liked me.” 
Dean made a noise halfway between a snort and a chuckle; Ginny looked back from the window to find that he was smiling at her. “Of course he liked you, have you seen you?” 
“Stop it!” Ginny exclaimed, reaching out and shoving Dean lightly enough that he didn’t fall off the bench as she’d been worried he might earlier. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” 
“You stop it!” Dean argued through a laugh. “Serious conversations don’t suit you at all!” 
Ginny grinned, it had been so long since they’d joked with one another. Even in the weeks before they’d broken up all they’d done was argue. “Does that mean we can be friends?” 
“Honestly, I think friends will suit us better than a relationship ever did,” Dean said sincerely. “No offence, but I didn’t find the constant fighting particularly enjoyable and I don’t think you did either.” 
Ginny chose not to answer, there was no point in going over their old fights now. When she looked back on her time with Dean it was as though she was remembering something from a different lifetime. Instead, she pushed herself up from the bench and waited for Dean to join her. “Come on, let’s go and set the Hogwarts rumour mill alight by walking into dinner together.” 
Dean fell into step beside Ginny without protest, the cautious, guarded look that had been upon his face at the beginning of the conversation was no longer in sight. 
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wizkiddx · 3 years
Text
a friendly face
a lil one inspired from seeing the recent interviews abt cherry - yes im a couple days late but am very slow. This is basically stolen and adapted from another of my stories so I don't think there's any bits left over by my dyslexic proof reading isnt that great so apologies!!! very speech heavy so sorry am trying to balance my writing more
Summary: Tom is having a hard time filming Cherry and dealing with the emotional baggage of it, so Harry recruits someone to make everything that little bit better.
tomhollandxreader
fluff and a little angst I guess?
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Harry, Tom and their driver Sian where all sitting in the car having left the set 20 minutes ago, heading back to their accommodation. Or more precisely, Harry and Sian sat in the two front seats- Harry only in the front as to allow Tom to lie down across the three back seats. He was asleep, or at least looked asleep, but Harry knowing his brother so well knew he was just wishing he was. The day had been torturous for Tom, they’d been filming a hospital sequence in which his character was heart broken. The sequence had involved him being thrown onto the floor multiple times, by a heavy handed stunt double who was not nearly as precise as those he’d worked with at ‘marvel’. Furthermore, there was also multiple scenes of him having to properly cry on camera, which although it sounds tame, is one of the hardest things you can ever ask an actor to do. At least, someone who commits half as much as Tom. For him to show that emotion, he had to go back to a place in his life where he didn’t really ever want to venture again. But even then, this character was such a fuck up, he had to do deeper.  He felt completely drained, emotionless and cold. But he couldn’t sleep, not for the guilt he felt for being short with everyone on set- he had never been like that before, he just felt like no one was respecting or understanding what he was going through. So instead he just lay on his side, facing the backs of the leather seats, arms folded in stubbornness- even if he had no idea why.
“Tom?…Tom, I know you’re awake… Look, we need to make a quick stop. You gotta come out.” Harry was actually slightly nervous his brother would just point blank refuse, even if he needed this so bad.
“I just need to get back to the apartment. Please Harry. Can’t we do it tommorrow?” The desperation dripping off Tom’s voice actually pained Harry to listen to. He knew Tom was having a crisis about how he treated everyone today, so chose to ignore his please in favour of some assurance.
“You know everyone understands… They just kept asking me if you were alright?” Harry could see the guilt radiating off Tom. It hurt him to see his big brother like this. 
“Please… I just need to get back” His small voice barely made it to the front of the car, but Harry heard it all. 
“It will take 2 minutes tops, I had a delivery but I need a hand carrying it, come on” Harry spoke as Sian turned on the indicator to pulled up next to the sidewalkpavement; the car slowing to a gentle halt. Tom didn’t reply, instead huffing as he used the head rest of the middle seat to pull himself up. Already out the car, Harry opened the door for him waiting patiently, because Harry knew he would be a hundred times better off in just a few moments. 
“What the hell have you even ordered that’s so big?” Tom sighed while ducking through the door into the cold Cleveland air, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as Harry motioned for him to follow his feet. 
“Oh um don’t know, a good friend sent it actually” Harry tried to hide the grin that was spread over his face from showing in his voice, as he saw a very familiar head of hair running toward them.
“What friend?” Tom looked up sassily toward Harry, shortly questioning who would send Harry a parcel from England that was too big to be delivered or carried by himself. Only then, nearly 5 metres away from Sian in the car, did Tom look up to see where they were. It wasn’t the nearest post office or delivery warehouse - they were at the airport. “Harry what’s going on?” Tom questioned with a low and warning voice, skipping a step or two in order to catch up with his younger brother. 
“We’re collecting her” Harry smiled as he nodded forward. Following his gaze with eyes wide open, Tom turned forward just in time to see Y/h/c  flying over his face as he was engulfed by someones arms. Immediately sensing exactly who this was, Tom did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist and push his head into your neck. Smelling the familiar perfume, Tom couldn’t help but scoff, allowing a the jerky breath to leave his lungs as you arched away from the hug, cupping Tom’s face with both her hands. 
“I’ve been reliably informed you could use a friendly face” you smiled, noticing his raw emotions threatening to overtake him, so swiftly pressing just pressing your lips onto his. Seemingly frightened to move, Tom barely reacted to the kiss, so you pushed and deepened into it a little more- till you felt him relaxing against you. With that, you arched away again and smiled massaging his stubbly hair behind his left ear.
“How are you here?” He croaked staring deeply at her, switching between her left and right eye as if that somehow would confirm that this was real, not some cruel dream he was having. 
“Someone somewhere knew you were in need and bought me a plane ticket over… I’m coming home with you on monday” You grinned while  watching Tom’s eyes light up, he leaned in again to your lips instead of replying. 
“Er-cuh-huh” Harry loudly cleared his throat, causing the two to pull away from each other. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sian isn’t really allowed to stop there long sooo” They both nodded, before Tom lunged at his brother, holding him close and whispering thanks too. It was clear this was at least partly Harry’s doing, and he could never thank his brother enough.
“Umm.. as much as I’m enjoying this brotherly love we really do have to get back in the car” Harry awkwardly spoke as he almost pushed Tom off him. 
“Awww my favourite little brother being all mature” You giggled, taking your turn to hug Harry, admittedly a little shorter than Tom’s, but still with lots of gratitude.
“Please get stop loving me and get back into the car!” Harry yelled as he stormed off to Sian, leaving both you and Tom in fits of laughter. Grasping each others hand simultaneously the laughter continued as you followed Harry down the street to the car. 
Seeing you standing there; feeling your arms wrapped round his neck ; hearing your oh so sweet voice had Tom feeling…. Feeling lighter. It was as though your mere presence gave him the strength to carry all the things that were previously weighing him down like a truck. What was extraordinary though, was how it wasn’t just psychological. He literally felt his joints feel looser, he felt his body flood with warmth and he felt his heart calming down. When you’d first been getting close to each you’d had rather the opposite effect. Which was surprising because that was at the point Tom had never felt more confident - he had just returned form a avengers press tour, where naturally everyone had just loved him and played up to his every whim. He had legions of girls, some of them drop dead gorgeous where falling at his feet. And yet, when he met you it was as though he was transported back into his incredibly awkward teenage years. It was infuriating, he knew he could act cool and unbothered and smooth however as soon as you stood informant of his it was like his mind melted, filling it with utter gibberish and garble. In fact, he was plainly floored by you - how kind and pure hearted you were, how respectful and how you found hhis jilted flirting adorable and not to forget how drop dead gorgeous you are. 
It had taken a while and a hell of a lot of opening up, but over time he found the opposite happening. Your presence became something else entirely, not one that would put him on his toes and have his heart racing - more of a comfort. He slept better when you were beside him, his nerves never got the better of him if you were there to cheer him on. He could relax completely without any fear of judgement, any worry at all with you. What you had done is change the definition of something so fudemental and a given in life. You’d changed home from a place to something much more intangible. A person; a feeling; a connection. You were his home.
“Sian are we close?” You asked, turning your attention away from the two brothers annecdotes from filming, realising Sian must’ve been driving for about 30 minutes. 
“Yep just the next right I think” Sian replied gently while turning the wheel as the indicator clicked.
“Where are we going?” Tom asked, looking first at you then pleadingly at Harry- knowing he had more of a chance with his brother. 
“Well” You started and he whipped his head back round “I know it’s late and you’ve been working all day, but you have alater  10 o’clock call time tomorrow instead of 6, so this is the best night to do something. We found a driving range-with heaters” which was a very important factor since Cleveland was bloody freezing “- that we thought you’d like to play a game or two?” The massive smile in response meant you’d hit the nail on the head.
“And soz but I’m crashing the game otherwise- and no offence, but you would win waayyyy toooo easy Tom” Harry butted in and sniggered as he interrupted the lovey-dovey stares. You gasped at that in mock offence, holding your hand over your chest. 
“Oi you, Paddy has been teaching on the Holland boys days out you both missed- I’ll have you know I now am aware that you have to get the ball into the hole, not a goal as previously thought.”
The boys both groaned in unison and Y/n wiggled her eyebrow grinning, elbowing Tom slightly in the side. “Things might have changed since you left you know?”
Yet another thing Tom loved so completely about you, was how effortlessly you had fitted into his family. Honestly, none of the Hollands could imagine life without you anymore - especially Nikki, who had quite literally attempted adopting you so she officially wasnt the only female in the immediate family. Sam used you as an expert taster for all his marvellous culinary creations (even if your judgement was always the same, it was very good); Dom often ended up picking your brains about your work, he found you ‘actual proper’ job as a doctor simply amazing , where all his family had never been especially acadmeically gifted; and Paddy just plain saw you as his older sister. So it was hardly surprising at all that when two of their actual kids flew across the world , you’d been the obvious placeholder. Yes, golf was most definitely your forte - but you were enthusiastic, with a positive (if flightily misguided) give it a go attitude. 
The try-try-and-try-again attitude that never really worked … until Paddy taught you how to hit a clean drive.
“I am not joking, I am asking the lady at the desk there’s no way!” 
“Tom you are the worst looser I have ever met! I didn’t cheat, I’ve just taken up a new hobby”
“There is no way Tom… no way she can get that good” Harry huffed as he ran straight past you to catch up with Tom, making sure that you did see the harsh glare he shot him. The outrage that Y/n had beaten them both at the driving range was way worse than anything you could’ve predicted- now you sort of were wishing you’d let them win. Oh wait…. Of course you weren’t  - this was priceless. Especially their faces when you’d launched your first ball super accurately inn the centre of the second furthest away target. They had reacted as if you had just stripped butt naked, you thought; standing their jaws hanging with a look of almost fear in their eyes.
“You could see the balls land with your own eyes! Practice makes perfect!”
“Thats not fair though! It took you like 8 weeks to be like that?”
“I mean you were obviously just taught by the wrong Holland, Paddy’s a  pretty good teacher!” You smiled as your trio turned the corner and walked through reception, seeing Harry desperate to ask the receptionist but Tom just looking over his shoulder to give a hurt look to at you.
“I’m going to ban you from being closer to my brothers than me”
“I can’t help if he’s cuter then you alright?” You smirked and raised an eyebrow, as Tom stopped in his tracks and turned to face you.
“That’s it… your gonna get it” he spoke in a low voice, with a mischievous look in his eye, abruptly he launched himself at you -  barely having  time to swerve away from him and start a sprint towards the exit, giggling as you took a glance back to see Tom chasing you out, Harry quickly in tow too. 
“Your not allowed to beat me at golf!” In a jokey voice, you heard Tom yell, just as you reached the sleek black 4x4 and hurdling yourself into it. 
“I’m in the car it’s a no fight zone!” You cowered in the corner,back pressed up against the opposite door and  arms crossed to make an ‘x’ sign in front of her body. 
“That is not how it works” Tom and Harry grinned from the open door. As fast as lightning they both vaulted in and started tickling you, making you screech curses at the two of them.
“Alright alright kids, no fighting while I’m driving thats an order.” Sian calmly spoke, trying to hide the laughter from her voice, as the two men retreated and helped to pull you up from the position half on the floor that your squirming had gotten you to. 
“Get off my leg Tom… arghhh… thanks Sian, I’m sorry they’re so moody, I just whipped their asses at golf”
“You’re here to make me feel better right? Not doing a good job so far” Tom’s snide remark meant you scrunched up your nose while plugging her seatbelt in, making sure to jab Tom’s side hard as you did so.
“How did I end up sandwiched in between you two twats then?” You grinned from the middle seat as Harry just rolled his eyes looking out the window, and Tom gave you a loving smile- not able to hide his relief of your presence.
“Think it’s about a 40 minute drive you gotta enjoy” Sian smiled looking at you via the rear view mirror, to which Tom couldn’t quite stifle the yawn that escaped. 
After all he had done much more than the typical 9-5 hours work, and the golfing was an unexpected addition to the already long day. His excitement and just pure joy at having you here had made him forget about It all for a couple of hours - but now his exhaustion was catching up with him with a vengeance. Instinctively you wrapped you arm round Tom and in doing so pulled him into your side. 
“Get some rest huh?” You whispered into his forehead, and all Tom could do was reply with a weary nod, letting his eyes slip close to the constant beat of Ally’s heart. You immediately sensed Tom was properly out of it, and contented yourself looking out his window for a few minutes,  before you felt something heavy briefly whack your other shoulder. Jumping a little at the contact, you looked round to see Harry’s head bobbing side to side in a light slumber. In the midst of worry for Tom, you hadn’t realised the kid had been doing the same long hours as him. Plus dealing with Tom and being Tom’s support, which surely took it out of him. Harry had always been ‘the most important brother’ in your eyes. Just because Tom trusts him so implicitly and completely, they had an understanding only real brothers could get to but also extended far beyond blood. When you’d first been introduced Harry had been colder to you. It wasn’t personal though, he just wanted to be sure on you and your intentions with Tom because as he well knew often when people saw Tom they didn’t just see an opportunity for love. It was an opportunity for a lifestyle, for fame, for relevance. Harry took a while before he trusted you but now you were miles and miles beyond that point. So now, being at a stage with Harry where he was phoning you to come and fly out to save Tom (and him too). It was not to be taken lightly.  Therefore, you gently pressed your hand to Harrys face and pushed him to lean against her other shoulder too- hoping to cure the dark circles under his eyes a little bit too. 
You were quite content for the rest of the journey, feeling warmth radiate through your body as the two men breathed deeply and calmly either side of you. You sort of didn’t want the car journeyer to end - but sure enough it wasn’t long till Sian was pulling into the hotel entrance.
“Get you a girl that can do both, beat yo ass at golf and look after your family” Sian whispered as she handed the phone back to you, after having taken some of your favourite ever photos, the 2 boys asleep on your shoulders while you pulled a variety of different faces. Smiling back at Sian, you then sighed-knowing she had to wake the two up, given their exhaustion you didn’t really want to either. 
“Boys…boys… hey let’s get you both into bed yeh?” You spoke softly, gently raising your shoulders in order to disturb them both. Harry’s head immediately shot up, his eyes puffy and half open, but a sheepish look on his face as he realised how he was sleeping. Just responding with a smile that said it was all okay, before  you turned her attention to Tom- forever stubborn to wake up, at least nothing had changed there. 
“Come on Tom, can’t have you sleeping in the car all night” You pushed again, this time lifting Tom’s head, earning a very deep groan as his eyes slid open and he pushed against the movement. It was at this point Harry slammed the car door shut, making Tom jump out of his skin, you loosing the hope of any serene wakeup call. Rubbing Toms arm, relaxing the tension now present in his body you encouraged him once again. “Come on lets get inside mister” 
His hotel room was exactly what you’d expect for an a-lister and lead actor in a million pound film. Large, modern, squeaky clean and posh. It was almost too big to be filled by one person though, Tom had always found it a bit cold and just not cosy - why he opted to spend the majority of his down time either fast alseep or in somebody else’s company. Both of those also stopped him getting too much in his head - or more accurately in his characters head. Cherry was a weird character and from interviewing all the veterans and lengthy discussion of his past, Tom almost felt as if he had in some small way experienced what Cherry had. Felt what Cherry did. Thought like Cherry did. 
And that was a sure fire way to fuck yourself up.
Now, with you here in his room haphazardly digging through your case, if felt warmer. The cold but brilliant white lights seemed to have softened to a gently warm glow that bounced off your skin and made your figure look almost angelic to Tom. You were his home. 
“What are you waiting for?” You mused while turning away from your (now) inside out suitcase, proudly carrying her pyjamas which you had found hidden at the bottom the whole time- not the most practical packing in the world. All the while Tom sat on his bed, back leaning against the headboard and arm bent behind his head too.
“Just thinking that I need to go through all the scenes for tomorrow” A monotonous tone laced his voice, for he knew he couldn’t spend the night the way he really wanted to, safely wrapped up with you.
“Oh… well let’s go through it together then hey? We will be done in no time; but if you want we can go over them again tomorrow morning.” It was a practical suggestion, a helpful action you could implement - even if you had a feeling Tom wouldn’t just agree. Since his lines clearly weren’t the only thing on his mind this evening. 
“Yeh but everyone on set is already sick of me after today… I can’t be being shit as well as horrid” his voice was small as the memory of how he snapped at some of the extras had him cringing inwardly at himself. He shouldn’t have been that rude, shouldn’t have blurted it out, should of offered a solution rather than just critiquing.
“Hey would you kindly shut it? No one is sick of you, everyone is just ready for christmas and missing their families. Now get changed” Your soft tone turning into an imperative order, as you threw his pyjama bottoms at the him, smashing into his face before falling into his lap.
“Oi” he shouted, but followed instructions and stood up reaching round to pull his hoodie off. Stood shirtless, his side was exposed to the now changed you, the sight making you gasp and clamber over the bed to gently touch Tom’s back. You followed the outline of an impressive patch of bruising, stretching from the bottom edge of his shoulder blade all the way to his hip. 
“Tom, what the hell happened?” Whispering in fear, Tom turned round to face you, seeing your eyes watering up as you kept glancing at his back. He was littered in a variety of purple, yellow and slightly green marks on the whole of his left flank. It looked like a minor crush injury, not something a pampered actor gets after a day of filming infront of tens of people including an onset medic and health and safety risk assessor. 
“What?” Tom asked before turning to the mirror and looking back over his shoulder to see the bruises for himself. He hadn’t expected the ache to look that bad. “oh - I - er… Today the scene, I get smashed to the floor by someone and I kept doing it wrong so we had to do it lots I guess.” He looked away and down at your feet, not being able to meet his girlfriends eyes suddenly. You just nodded, trying to blink back the tears-  he had truly been broken by this role both physically and now mentally- he hadn’t even put a stop to the constant and clearly severe pain. 
“Put your stuff on” your  voice was muted, as you waited for Tom to get prepared. He turned around again and then replaced his trousers and quickly pulled a top on to hide the marks, suddenly embarrassed. In the silence the sound of his clothes dropping to the floor, then of him sitting on the bed again- throwing his legs over so now he mirrored your position - the sounds were pretty defeaning.
“I love you so much….” Barely whispering, you suddenly ripped the duvet out from under you both holding it over you as you swung a leg over Tom so you straddled him, slightly leaning over him and letting the blanket rest on top of your back.In your position you looked down in an almost scary way to his warm brown eyes. Tom swore you were literally reading his thoughts, your intense gaze absolutely crumbling any walls he thought he’d be able to hold up. Pressing a gentle peck to his lips you then whispered onto his lips, letting him feel your words as well as hear them. “ …So that’s why we are going to sleep right now and you can worry about all of that tomorrow”
“Y/n I-“
“Your safe with me.” You were not standing for his nexuses and arguments, as you slid down his body - ending with your head resting on his chest, you legs tangled with his. Once you’re properly rested you’ll learn them ten times faster than what you can now… Before you get ill I am telling you to take a break. I’m not going to let you not. So relax and-….Tom?” Ending with a whisper, you delicately lifted your head off his slowly rising chest to see your broken boyfriend already asleep; lips parted as soft snores crept through the silence. In reality as soon as you’d said that he was safe the exhaustion had completely over taken him. Desperately needing to recharge his batteries, no matter how much he had wanted to stay up and work late it could never really happen - at this point physically impossible.
“Sleep well Tom” she smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek with a sad smile.
///////////////////////////////////////////
The next day rolled around all too quickly, but the morning was much better than any of the past couple of months because you were together. Tom, having had a solid 7 hours of sleep compared to his normal 5, was for once ready for the day. He’d gone through the script with a certain someones help in record time, and now the three were just pulling up at the set. 
“You’ve been awful quiet this car ride…” you grinned as she clasped Tom’s hand across the empty seat, making Harry turn around and give you a warning glance. Oops. In a moment where Tom went to the loo at breakfast, Harry had fully disclosed everything that had happened on set yesterday- especially the  burst of anger. So naturally, Tom was feeling nervous and scared to face everyone. 
“It will be fine I promise… and if not tell them I’m your personal body guard- no one will be rude to you if me and Harry are ready to attack” Tom let out a breathy nervous laugh, only then meeting your eyes.
“ A fly wouldn’t be threatened by you two. Harry would just take a photo while you’d check their pulse or something”
“Errrm” Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he contorted round from the front seat so Tom could see his disapproving look, meanwhile Tom was dodging your affectionate fake-slaps.
“Children we’re here” Sian sighed as she brought the car to a steady halt “and if you could get through the day without killing each other I’d appreciate it, otherwise I’m out of the job”
“Not promising anything when I’ve got these pair to deal with” Tom grinned as he opened the car door, before anyone else could retaliate.You laughed before quickly following suit, joining Tom at the front of the car and interlocking your fingers with Tom’s. Hesitating for a moment Harry took a second before unplugging and leaning for the door handle.
“You see what I mean?” Turning his head to look at Sian “It’s sickening how happy they are.”
“Yeh but your glad about it don’t lie” she grinned, before practically shooing the poor boy out her car.
“But dont tell them!” Shouting in reply, as the car was already pulling out. 
Tom’s body seemed to tense more the closer you walked to the crew tent, you could feel the way he squeezed his shoulders back and his jaw tensed and untensed. There was little you could do apart from squeezing his hand that little bit tighter - further reiterating the fact you would always always be in his corner. Perhaps the most telling about Tom’s own character was how truly guilty he felt for the way he was with the crew. Normally, he was one of the most down to earth actors around - no trace of an ego or superiority complex. It didn’t matter if you were a cleaner or head of a multimillion dollar studio, Tom would pay both the same amount of respect. He always out that completely down to his upbringing and mum and dad, but even that was being humble. He was just a good person to the core, no one saw that more than you either. It’s part of love, you see the good and the bad parts of a person and promise to unashamedly love them all. 
Just before you both had made it into the main tent, Tom was pulled away. “Oh Tom we wanted to talk to you about yesterday!” The familiar voice of Joe Russo called, as he and Anthony  ran up to Tom from his left, giving a little nod of greeting to the actor, before falling in step with him.
“Morning, I-uh I wanted to apologise actually-“Tom was cut off while you hung back off to his right, not wanting to intrude on this conversation.
“No we should. The team were all being slow yesterday, and they were making some hard scenes harder on you. We really appreciate what you are putting yourself through for the sake of the film.”
“But still I acted like a brat and I’m sorry”
“Tom” Anthony spoke up for the first time. He was a man of limited words- but whenever he spoke everyone listened. “ You are one of the best, most-dedicated actors we’ve ever worked with. We’re all overtired, run down and ready for the holidays. You’re missing your family too. It’s already forgotten… So let’s just get on with the movie?” Tom smiled, pressing his lips together to stop their kindness overtaking his emotions. Tom always felt safe with the Russo’s. They’d dealt with him when he really just was a kid actor - overwhelmed and without a clue what was happening. They’d dealt with hiM adjusting to fame and the much bigger part Marvel seemed to want him to play in the future. They trusted him with this, most incredibly complex and also personal film for them. So when they spoke and they said it didn’t matter, Tom was much more likely to agree.  Then proceeded the bro-hugs, as the men all showed they were good with each other. 
“Well lets make a motherfucking movie!” Tom exclaimed once they broke the hug and the brothers laughed at him. “Oh where-d….” He muttered as he looked round before meeting your eyes, still standing rather awkwardly a couple of meters behind them. “ Joe, Anthony you remember Y/n?” Nodding and smiling the brothers beckoned you over; both greeting you with a warm handshake. 
“Good to see you again!” You grinned and the directors responded nodding.
“We didn’t know you were coming! I would’ve made a list of all my doctor question for you.” Joe winked, knowing your pet-peeve was people asking you all their gory body questions as soon as they found out she was a doctor. You didn’t need to know about you dentists acid reflux issue, you didn’t need to know about your granny’s friend’s constipation, and you really really didn’t need to know about an old friends erectile dysfunction.
“Ha ha ha “ You rolled your eyes sarcastically “ and no it was a bit of a spontaneous trip, I just landed last night.” Throughout the whole of the exchange Anthony had taken an aloof stance, just  observing you and Tom. Observing the bright smile Tom gave you, even when you were simply making small talk. The way he looked so much healthier, well rested and just happy, in the space of a single evening.
“I’m glad you’re here” Anthony basically interrupted the conversation, addressing you then immediately turning on his heel towards the set. 
“Uhh right- get to make up we’ll call a cast meeting in a bit” Joe stammered, giving his brother a funny look before addressing Tom “ and we’ll have to have a proper catch up later.” You nodded in response, as Joe turned and did a half jog to catch up with his brother. 
“That was weird!?” You frowned as you looked up at Tom. He explained the encounter in rather simplistic terms.
“That was Anthony.”
The morning was spent with Tom doing what he does best in front of the camera. They were shooting a larger scene for the army section of the movie, with at least 100 actual soldiers as extras, all geared up in full camo outfits. It was impressive, but also gave you a chance to meet Ciara - you’d been dying to meet her since Tom told you what a laugh she was. Fair to say you weren’t disappointed at all, you guys hitting it off instantly and you going as far as giving Ciara some embarrassing Tom stories that she could wind him up with in the future. Of course though, the main attraction was seeing Tom act first hand. Every time it astounded you, even though you knew that face so completely, in all his movies he fully had you believing he was someone else. It was mesmerising and you couldn’t be any prouder. 
“You’re amazing! I seriously forgot how good you are!” You ran over as Joe Russo called cut to the end of the morning shoot. 
“Well er thanks I guess” Tom furrowed his eyebrows as you wrapped him in a hug. He’d just canned a pretty hard scene and everyone was more than ready for a lunch break. You’s been watching from behind the cameras with Harry the whole time, after Tom gave you permission to sit in his special set chair.
“Seriously I’m very…. “ Her speech broken with an impressive yawn “….very proud of you.” In thanks Tom gave you a kiss first to your nose and then lips. 
“I take it someones not adapting to jet lag?” He chuckled as he pulled away and cupped your face in his hands.
“Which I’m totally ashamed about considering I work night shifts… my body clocks supposed to be better than this” Angrily, you vented, frustrated at your own body when all you wanted to do was stays within reaching distance of Tom. Even if Tom had had the best sleep of this whole shoot last night, you’d been to over excited and enthralled just absorbing every little thing about him that you’d missed so much that you’d been wide awake the majority of the night. If you blamed you fatigue on jet lag alone, it would be an impressive lie. 
“Go take a nap in my trailer… Harry can you take her?”
“Yes master” Harry bowed down and wobbled his head sarcastically, making you giggle. 
“At least this way you get a break from him” You grinned to Tom’s brother, which Harry could only agree with. Giving Tom a parting kiss , you followed Harry away from set. It was at this point that Anthony excused himself from the monitors reviewing the footage, and approached Tom.
“Kid… that was great that scene.”
“Thanks mate, means a lot” Getting his directors approval forever reassured Tom, letting him relax his shoulders a bit as he nodded gratefully to Anthony. 
“Well it’s just truth… so your girlfriend, Y/n right?”
“Yeh that’s her” Tom nodded, suddenly a little concerned as to where Anthony was going with this. You had met the Russo’s a number of times, and it never before seemed as though Anthony had an issue with you- at least to Tom’s knowledge.
“Right well um… you know how I don’t really get involved in all this stuff…” Tom nodded, folding his arms apprehensively. “But I just thought I should say that she’s really good for you.” Tom silently breathed a sigh of relief and waited for Anthony to get to the point. “Joe told me you had a rough patch at the beginning of the year so… I don’t know our industry is hard. And harder for you and her in the spotlight… Just seeing you with her today…Don’t be afraid to take the next steps with her…Don’t let her get away.” Tom was stunned to say the least. Anthony is the last person he had ever expected to get relationship advice from. 
“I um yeh… I don’t know I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean we’ve been together for 2 and a bit years, well including the break… she means the world to me-“
“Well don’t waste it”
And that was the end of the conversation. Anthony turned to his trailer to get lunch and Tom just stood, replaying the conversation in his head. Weird to say the least. 
But it did get the cogs turning. It did get Tom really seriously considering his future. Or rather considering your future together.
And that was for certain. It was you and him, always. 
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inawickedlittletown · 3 years
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Survivors - Buddie meta
Words: 3,112
I thought a lot about 4x14 since watching it on Monday and mostly buddie, and on my re-watch I had a lot of thoughts and since I can’t seem to help myself here we are again. And fair warning, this is very long. 
I think it’s fair to say that Buck is someone that cares a lot. I think it’s fair to say that his reaction to Eddie being shot would be the same if anyone else in the 118 was shot. That said, yes, the way that Buck freezes and the shock that sets in with him is jarring for a character that is always about the action and always about doing something. But then, he does finally get his bearings after being knocked down to safety and after holding eye contact with Eddie as Eddie is bleeding out on the ground, and Buck is the only one present on the scene to get to Eddie. Buck is the only one trying to get to the injured person despite the fact that there are plenty of other first responders around. 
This moment is a lot, and I think it does so much to reiterate and highlight the importance of Eddie in Buck’s life and the love that is felt between them. Up to this point, we cannot call that romantic love — or at least, acknowledged romantic love — but Buck does love Eddie. And vice versa. 
We see Eddie’s love shine through in the moments while they’re heading to the hospital and Eddie comes to and his concern isn’t for himself, but Buck. Eddie has been shot, and he’s well aware of that, and yet it is Buck who he worries about. He has to be sure that Buck is alright. And, well, Buck isn’t. He might be physically alright, but when he’s asked if he’s okay as Eddie is being taken into the hospital, he just says “no” and that is very clear to the audience in that moment and for the rest of the episode. 
The next time that we see Buck, he is still a mess and he’s stepping out of the hospital. He is literally shaking and he is so out of it and in a state of shock that he’s ignored phone calls not just from Taylor, but from Maddie, and likely anyone else that tried to contact him. I don’t want to spend too much time on Taylor here, but I do want to point out that Buck is at first suspicious of why she is present and barely acknowledges that she was worried about him and he also just doesn’t want to allow her to help him. 
Buck’s entire mind is on Eddie and on Chris and we’re aware from Chim’s call with Maddie that the rest of the team are at the hospital as well, and that enough time has passed that it’s likely Eddie’s grandmother and aunt would have heard about what happened, that Carla would have heard, and yet Buck feels like he’s the one of that needs to talk to Chris and no one refutes that. When Albert asks where Buck is later, Chim even says: “he’s got a harder job tonight” because they all know that it is absolutely Buck’s place to be the one to speak to Christopher.  
From the moment that Buck was aware of Christopher’s existence, he’s been involved. Christopher bonded Buck and Eddie in a way perhaps because of how much Buck loves kids, but certainly because Buck admired Eddie as a parent and Eddie’s devotion to being a dad. I think Buck similarly endeared himself to Eddie by making it possible for Eddie to get the help that he needed — namely Carla. But over the past few seasons we’ve seen the Buck and Chris relationship grow. Buck has been acting like another parent for a while and I think this season really took it over the top ever since Chris ran away from home and went straight to Buck. Making Buck his safe space over anyone else. 
Out of the entire episode, the hardest scene to watch for emotional reasons is Buck explaining to Chris that his father is hurt. Between the way that Chris asks questions to understand what happened, to the way that Buck just can’t keep it together. And then Bobby’s text comes in and Buck really cannot hold it in, to know that actually Eddie will be okay. The rollercoaster of emotions is so well acted, so well written, and there is no way to not feel that pain while watching it. 
This whole scene reads like a parent talking to their child about something difficult. It reads like a parent being aware of their own pain and still facing their kid because that’s important and necessary and as a parent it isn’t something that can be ignored. We can go further and parallel the scene to almost any important and emotional conversation between Eddie and Christopher, but especially what we got when Shannon died.It also frames Buck as family and as important in the lives of both Christopher and Eddie. It is difficult then to think about Buck’s place in all of this as only a best friend. As only a work partner. This is glaringly so when we think about Ana. (Also, we have to remember that Buck during all of this knows nothing about Eddie changing his will).
The episode makes it clear where Ana is this entire time because the few times we see her, she’s at the hospital with Eddie. As his girlfriend it makes sense for her to be there for him and yet that is all we are given when instead it would only make sense to use Eddie’s injury as a way to further and strengthen Ana and Eddie’s relationship. And from the last we saw of Ana, she clearly gets on with Christopher, enough that it would have made sense for Ana to step up and offer to care for Chris. It isn’t something that happens. But I think that their relationship would have shown as stronger and as more meaningful in the eyes of the viewer if we’d seen more of them together and certainly if we had seen Ana even just offer to look after Chris. 
Instead, it is Buck that sleeps on Eddie’s couch so he can be there for Christopher even though there are other options such as Carla. It is Buck that picks up the slack of looking after Christopher as worried as Buck is about Eddie and as worried as Buck is about everyone else in light of the firefighters being targets. The way that Buck puts Christopher first is so parental. It is something that Eddie has noticed long before this all the way back in S3 and clearly Buck doesn’t disappoint. And Buck doesn’t do it all alone, because obviously he has work and Carla is around, but he is going out of his way to be there for Christopher. 
The scenes are bittersweet in that there is a slight domestic/parental element to them, but then also the thrumming knowing that this is only happening because Eddie isn’t around. And yet Christopher is adaptable. It gets to the point where he is even joking around and teasing Buck in a very similar way that he does with Eddie. 
I find Buck’s journey through the episode interesting. One of the things about Buck is that he believes he is alone. He knows he has people, but he also realizes that he is alone, and that as much he means something to his team, to his sister, even to his parents, Buck also knows that everyone else has other people. During the sequence in which Bobby explains how things are going to change for them, we see flashes of scenes of the 118 getting ready to go into work with their new bulletproof vests and we see Hen with Karen, we see Chim with Maddie, and we see Bobby with Athena. Buck is on his own. 
Is it because Buck’s partner would naturally be Eddie? Or because Taylor and Buck just aren’t on that level (I mean at this point we’re pre-kiss). Either way, we get Buck on his own all while Bobby voice-overs how difficult this time will be on their family/loved ones who already see the job as risky and now it suddenly comes with possible sniper shots too. So is it a wonder that Buck, who already thinks much less of himself, would want to place more risk on himself than anyone else? Not to mention that there is definitely an element of survivor’s guilt at play. Buck was standing right there on that street with Eddie. Easily, it could have been him that was shot except that dressed as a civilian made him less of a target. 
Bobby tells him that he made himself a target deliberately and Buck has an answer. He can’t handle anyone else being hurt and that shows us the impact that Eddie being hurt has on Buck, the way that emotionally, Buck could not handle much more turmoil. 
About Eddie, Buck says, “I was just the guy standing there when it happened who couldn’t do anything to protect him.” And it is simply amazing how much that statement says about Buck’s state of mind. Add in Oliver Stark’s acting and we get to see so much of Buck’s love for the whole team, for Eddie. This moment comes after Buck’s scene with Carla presumably before he went to work, and in that scene Carla expresses her concern for Buck’s well being, but Buck brushes that off and I think it’s yet another example of Buck’s state of mind in that he doesn’t want to see himself as important, as necessary, as someone that would be missed if they were gone. 
We see Taylor again and I do want to say that I appreciate the role Taylor has played in this episode. Her first appearance has her worried about Buck and caring about that more than possibly getting a scoop for work — yet another instance of showing how much Taylor has changed from S2. Her worry then, and the way that she offers to help Buck continues to translate into her second scene in the episode where she’s also upset at Buck for the crane incident and the danger he placed himself in. I’ve loved the development of Buck and Taylor’s friendship as well as the many moments that we’ve gotten that show Taylor as a different person. The last few episodes have slowly hinted at them as a couple and I cannot be mad at how this was developed or how Taylor is very clearly unsure about how things might go. She is caught up in the moment and after she kisses him she even apologizes. 
Buck says they should talk about it, but Taylor decides to leave. Buck actually goes to say “wait” or to stop her and Taylor, as we learn later, expected or hoped for Buck to chase after her, but Eddie has excellent timing and has woken up. And Ana calls Buck at once. 
I’m curious about when Buck got Ana’s number and saved it on his phone. I’m curious about how Ana got Buck’s number. Before this, we haven’t seen them interact at all and unless Eddie being hurt was the first time they even met, who called Ana to tell her about Eddie? 
Either way, Ana calls him and Buck goes to Eddie. It’s a choice that Buck makes and I don’t think Buck even sees it as a choice. And from the way that Taylor mentions Buck not going after her, I just have to wonder about how Buck made it out of his apartment without running into Taylor on the way to his car to get to the hospital. From the way he was running, we know he didn’t wait to get over there. I also do have to wonder about Ana calling Buck and why she felt that he would need to be informed about Eddie being awake at once. Obviously there’s Christopher to consider, but Ana could have also called Carla. This feels like Ana knowing who she needed to defer to. 
Buck arrives and Ana is all smiles, but she steps aside so Buck and Eddie can see each other. (Me with my shipper goggles on: foreshadowing?) And then, the next thing we see if Eddie having a facetime with Christopher through Buck’s phone and Ana isn’t there? Did she step out to give them some time with the kid? Ana’s place in all of this just dwindles and dwindles and I’ll admit I never liked Ana...but that’s mostly because I was never given a reason to like her. Maybe I just feel ambivalent. 
Eddie asks Buck about how Chris is doing and Buck admits that actually between him and Christopher, it is Buck that is having a harder time. He admits that he lost it when he was telling Christopher and Buck is ashamed of it, of not being able to put away his emotions to focus on Chris. Eddie reassures him: “You were there for him when I couldn’t be. That’s what matters.”
Buck responds with: “Still, it might have been better for him if I was the one that got shot.” And that has been Buck’s state of mind this entire episode. That is what he’s been feeling. But no matter how many times Buck has been asked how he’s doing or been shown that others are worried about him, has he brought that up. It is only to Eddie that he can admit it.
The scene ends and Eddie is left thinking. He’s left considering what Buck’s said, but he’s also considering how he views Buck and how to best make Buck believe that actually he’s not expendable. Not to him or to Christopher or even to the rest of the 118. 
We get to the third Buck and Taylor scene and the first thing that is apparent is that Buck has not reached out to Taylor since the kiss. He hasn’t chased her. In fact, he didn’t expect to see her at his door. And it has been days since. This shows us that Buck while interested in Taylor, isn’t that invested. Taylor on the other hand is. Buck explains himself by saying that he’s done feeling like he isn’t enough and I like that self-confidence and the way that Buck makes it clear that he can’t be the one chasing anyone. 
To bring this back to Buddie, I do wonder if Buck saying this to Taylor isn’t also a statement about where Buck stands in general and how Buck is not going to be the one that pines or that waits for anyone. Not just Taylor, but Eddie. This could be subtle foreshadowing, aided of course by the next Buck and Eddie scene. 
Eddie isn’t someone that talks about how he feels. He isn’t someone that needs to express himself that way and we know this about him which makes this scene all the more poignant. And you can feel how Eddie isn’t too sure of himself when he asks Buck to talk. Not to mention that admitting to going through the trouble of changing his will so that Buck could be Chris’ guardian clearly isn’t something Eddie ever wanted to bring up or mention to Buck seeing as it’s been in his will for about a year. 
Eddie is just displaying such a level of awareness for his understanding of who would be best for Christopher, for the realization that no one else in his life cares for Christopher’s well being like Buck does. And they talk about Eddie’s other family and Eddie says my favorite line of the episode, “No one will ever fight for my son as hard as you. That is what I want for him.” Other than “You act like you’re expendable...but you’re wrong.” 
Eddie changed his will, not for Buck, but for Christopher. It is placing all his trust in Buck and making him in many ways the most important person in his life other than his son. But telling Buck is something that Eddie does for Buck. He does it so that Buck knows how highly Eddie views/values him and so that perhaps Buck begins to see himself that way too and so he can value his life if not for himself, but then also because it actually could affect Christopher and Eddie as well. It does make me wonder if during Eddie’s time at the hospital, he heard about Buck and the crane. 
There’s a welcome home party waiting for Eddie at home and Buck is the one to take him to it. The ending sequence is interesting in that everyone is split up by family. Unlike last season where we had everyone together at the end, this time everyone is with their family. In another moment that could have been used to cement Ana and Eddie, it is Buck that picks Eddie up from the hospital and Buck that takes him to the party. For some reason Taylor is there and I feel like that’s more about being able to put her somewhere, but we could have done without her. I wonder if Eddie already knows that Buck and Taylor are a thing by that point. And I wonder what Chris thinks of her. 
All in all, this was a fantastic episode. One of the best of the season and such a strong finale. And I don’t think it gives us any concrete information on if the show is going to actually do Buddie, but it leaves some sprinkling of things that make it a possibility. Most of that is to do with how little development we get out of Ana in any way or form as well as the display of importance that Eddie places on Buck as well as Buck’s emotions when it comes to Eddie being injured. I think we leave the episode on a high note and with a lot of hope that actually maybe something could happen. 
I don’t think I will ever be one of those people that are more than 50% sure it might happen, but this episode does make me question if that percentage shouldn’t be higher. It also cements my other thoughts on Buddie and I will reiterate it again because it’s so important, as it stands we are not in any place to call Buddie queerbaiting. We are, however, possibly in the midst of a slow burn. 
-
Tagging: @vivalabandoms @sevensoulmates @greenasher @whenyougoquiet-ihatemyself @seylaaurora @scifitheatre1995 @yramesoruniverse @laura2594-me @selfiethechaosfan @lilyemrys 
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recurring-polynya · 2 years
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Writing/Art Update 3/18/2022:
Sorry this is a little late today, I fell asleep all afternoon. 🙄
Friends, my brain has been wilding all week, that’s about all I can say.
I started out by actually finishing and posting the not-very-cheerful Academy era fanfic I’ve been talking about, so if you want to read a story about how sometimes you have too much of your own hurt to be someone else’s support system, please go check out a jackrabbit underneath. 
I really do not know what happened after that, but I was thinking about the tattoo coop in What We Do with Our Hearts and I realized that I very literally could have done an in-universe tattoo artist AU, and my brain took off like a rocket. Normally, I try to avoid AUs that reverberate down through the entire Bleach canon because it’s just too much, but I just really like this one and I have been thinking about it all week. Normally, I am a person who likes to make complete stories that stand on their own, but all I really want to do is ramble and make out of context scribble comics. 
On one hand, I was really happy earlier in the week, because everything has been such a drag , for, like, the last two years. I like having written, but I have not enjoyed the process of writing, it’s been a chore to even think about my stories. It’s been really nice to get some of that old magic back.
On the other hand, I got struck with The Guilt (maybe yesterday?) that This Is Not What People Want and it’s just a form of procrastinating. (It’s probably because I was answering ao3 comments on Hearts and thinking about how it’s going to take me 3 years to write the next part this time. How ON EARTH did I write the first 3 stories of HiaM in, like, 4 mo???) I get so, so frustrated because it just takes me forever to make anything. I’ve been working on a fanfic portion of this and I am up to (checks) 2914 words, which is a complete first chapter, although I didn’t like some of the mechanical details (as in... the layout of the tattoo shop) so I know I need to go back and fix it and I just feel like it’s going to take me a million years to get anywhere with this. I have several more comics in my head, but once again, I just get... daunted by them. My brain’s natural defense mechanism to this sort of thinking is to respond with “Polynya no one cares what you do, waste your own time if you like” which is... not as helpful a framing as my brain thinks it is. 
Anyway, if this is at all interesting to you, you can check out my soul society tattoo artist au tag. I am still extremely happy to answer questions or take prompts or whatever. 
I did do a lot this week, I dug in my garden and planted a bunch of seeds and started my taxes and grocery shopped and slept for an entire afternoon. We had family over last Sunday and I made a cake. I swear I will do at least one of my old unanswered asks this weekend (I started one and then got distracted on, like...Monday)
I guess it’s okay to just be a big mess sometimes. At least some parts of the scribble comics were pretty cute. 
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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years
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Elizbeth Debicki - Reunion Revenge
A/N - I love Elizabeth with everything I am, I'm sure I've said this before. I don't know why there aren't more fics about her. As always, I do not know Elizabeth, nor do I claim to: this is a work of fiction and wholly my own. I mean no disrespect to any of the careers mentioned at some point in this, just bear with. This is a set at a high school reunion, but I went to a private secondary school in England, so my experience is obviously not everyone else's. Reader has a twin brother, have fun with that. I also based this on a Tumblr post I saw, and thought that would be a swell concept to work into a Liz piece of writing: ‘never understood the whole showing up at your high school reunion revenge fantasy cause, like, really? high school?? I don’t want anyone from that time in my life to have any idea where I am or what I’m doing. do not perceive me I am dead to you and you are dead to me.' 8k.
Warnings - a little angsty, mentions of bullying, smoking, mentions of homophobia and slurs, wlw explicit smut, fingering, sex toys (strap-on), bathroom wall sex in a semi-public place, the whole shebang (literally). 18+
Summary - At first, when your brother roped you into attending your high school reunion with your wife, you hated the idea. Now, all eyes are on you, all the focus on your career, and maybe this is the revenge you always needed, of course aided by Liz's quick thinking and hidden surprises.
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AT THIS CURRENT POINT IN TIME, you would more than happily murder your brother for roping you into this. And for convincing Liz to come along, which is somehow worse than your own enforced attendance, as though your presence will make any difference to the people who made the seven ‘best’ years of your life a pure living hell.
Your brother did have your back through it all, and considering that he was supposed to be the best one to succeed, he needs you there for some moral support after his career took an unfortunate nosedive that everyone is undoubtedly going to be gawking over.
You never understood the whole ‘showing up at your secondary school reunion revenge fantasy,’ but that’s mostly just because they don’t deserve to know who you are anymore. They broke you continually, and you’re past it now: the only thing that could take you back to that mindset is being back in that great hall with the gossiping busybodies. It’s not your fault that you were a closeted gay for so many years. Well, that’s another cause of concern. Notorious homophobes, and you’re bringing your wife.
“Come on, honey, we have to go inside.” Liz tells you, her long fingers curling around yours affectionately.
She has a point. You’ve been in the car park for ten minutes now, your knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. Her continual lavishes of kisses to your neck seem to be the only redeeming factor of your procrastination.
“Hmm, kiss me first.” you say.
She doesn’t disappoint, curling your hair behind your ear—wearing special diamond earrings she got you on your second anniversary—and catches your chin tenderly between her polished forefinger and thumb, tilting your face up to meet hers, her lips slanting over yours, melding together perfectly.
She’s the only good thing about this situation, about any situation: the only reason your brother was able to bribe you to come. Your main qualm about today is that you don’t want anyone from that period of your life to have any idea where you are or what you’re doing. You’ve been dead to them for years, and they to you. You don’t want them to perceive you whatsoever. But maybe, with Elizabeth on your arm and a brilliant career under your belt—everything you ever wanted—you can reap revenge. No one is in touch with you, so your arrival will be such a surprise, not that you exactly care about that, having blocked out and repressed a whole lot of that time period. You wouldn’t be able to even do this without Elizabeth, though.
“Liz,” you moan when she nibbles on your lower lip in that signature way she does. “We can stay here, we don’t have to go in.”
You shift your hand over the centre console to rub over her clothed thigh, your grip more than a little suggestive, prying further up…
“No baby,” she coos, “later, I promise. We’ll be late.”
You grumble, but only momentarily. She has a point, and a thing about being on time to everything. So you load out of the car, Liz coming around to the drivers side where she offers you her hand. She’s more chivalrous than any guy you ever pretended to date, an absolute gem of a person. You don’t even get jittery on the short walk inside, not with her thumb caressing your hand, your legs brushing together.
You can’t say you’re surprised when, at first, no one even turns to look at you, though relief floods your system, Liz bending down to kiss your forehead in a conciliatory manner.
“Oh my God, y/n, I’ve been here twenty minutes! Why didn’t you pick up?”
“I was busy,” you say to your overzealous brother who is suddenly hounding you, attaching to your side.
He bristles, visibly shaking off his discomfort, before he’s linking his arm through yours and is tugging you along, out from beneath the wooden balcony, tugging you away from the shadows.
The hall is the exact same as it was both when you came and left the school, oak panelling everywhere, great glass windows stretching to the ceiling with sills too high for anyone to climb onto, a stained glass shrine above the stage. Put-me-up tables are littered around, sheathed with white cloths and ribbons with your school emblem on them, decorated with drink dispensers, mugs, wine glasses and cheap biscuits. The whole… scene brings back that awful sense of dread you got when forced to sit here, in tacky red woollen chairs, frayed and bobbled, that itched your legs, every Monday and Friday for assembly. It’s a beautiful room, truly, with a reinforced floor beneath the original boards, slightly splintering beneath your low heels, and you know every nook and cranny, every escape route, but the bad memories tarnish the space.
Liz, darling as she is, senses your discomfort, and creates small talk with your brother as you’re steered between groups of people you scarcely recognise until you reach the apex of the room, where his old friends stand, hunched over in ill-fitting suits, brooding over their brandy, no doubt complaining about their dead end jobs and lack of girlfriends.
“Hey buddy…” one of them says, trailing off once he hears a woman's voice, his eyes darting up—first to Elizabeth, then down to you. “Your sister and your girlfriend? Dude, she’s hot.”
“Isn’t she just?” Liz teases, a malicious smirk creeping onto her lips.
You haven’t even noticed, but some subconscious part of you has tucked your joined hands behind you, covered by Liz’s long, flowing dress.
“How you doing, wait, I know, don’t tell me…”
“y/n.” you snap. “Fine, thanks.”
“Well that’s good, good, isn’t it? I was just gonna call you mini y/l/n—”
“Don’t, that isn’t my name anymore.”
His eyes dart down to your left hand not held by Elizabeth’s slender fingers, instantly noting the glistening silver princess-cut ring nestled above a platinum wedding band.
“Married? Nice. No wonder the guy didn’t come,” another one chimes. You’re not entirely sure what he means, though it’s undoubtedly a dig at the fact Elizabeth is far hotter than you are.
Your brother is slowly growing angrier and angrier, the cords of thick muscle in his shoulders tensing, his nostrils flaring, his thinned eyes conversing with Elizabeth’s blues over the top of your ducked head.
“Yes, well,” you play along, and desperately look to your brother to continue the conversation.
“What are you all doing for work now?”
Everyone gives a boring answer: salesman, accountant, finishing up law school, working in an office, with one trainee chef in the mix. These men have all just done what the school or their parents expected and wanted them to do, no one has any ambition. No wonder you were always the odd one out.
“What about you?” the chef asks your brother.
“Oh, I’m on a sabbatical at the moment,” he replies sheepishly, eyes suddenly training on the floor before turning quickly, fixing on you. “My sister’s done really well for herself.”
Their surprise is palpable, seeping off them, dripping onto the floor via the loose threads of their cheap blazers.
“Yeah, I’m a translator for political and legal proceedings, you know, with cabinet ministers from all over the world, those who speak the languages I do, at least.” you answer pridefully. Your talents always were overlooked when you were at school, apart from by one special teacher, whom you haven’t actually seen yet.
“She’s marvellous, really,” Liz says, and you can’t help but feel a hint of guilt from neglecting her for so long, so you squeeze her hand a little tighter, and rub your thumb over her wedding ring. “I’m gonna get us some drinks, babe. What do you want?”
“Red wine would be lovely. Unless you want me to drive home?”
She pecks your lips, “Of course not, enjoy yourself. You want anything, mate?” she turns to your brother.
“I’m good, thanks.” He mock-salutes.
“Don’t be long,” you warn her, swinging your hands out from their cover with a sudden flush of courage, and detaching them.
She looks down at you curiously, but her smile quirks into a smirk the second you pinch her hip and lean up on your tiptoes, capturing her pretty pink lips with yours, swallowing the small surprised gasp that escapes her. You can feel eyes on you all over the room, the situation genuinely feeling as though everyone besides your brother is staring upon you with disgust as her lithe arms wrap around your body, her one hand straying lower than you were prepared for, arching into her chest as she nibbles your lip again, your one hand cupping her flushing cheek.
A moment later, she’s releasing her hold and strutting away, all eyes then glued to the sensual sway of her hips, her long legs carrying her across the room faster than they thought possible. Then again, being 6-foot-3 as a beautiful woman is quite the surprise to people, they all expect her to be garish, uncoordinated, and though she’s clumsy at times, she’s certainly better at general levels of human functionality than you are.
“Dude, stop staring at my wife’s ass.” you hiss to the first man. If only they were worth your bother or time, you might have remembered their dreary names.
He splutters for a moment, bringing a ring-less left hand up to loosen his lilac tie. “Wife? What the fuck? How are you married to a woman before we are!”
What a mystery.
“You gay or something?” the trainee lawyer chimes in again.
“You got a problem with that?” your brother accuses, puffing up his chest pompously.
“Well, no… just surprised.”
“Astonished.” another pipes up.
“Isn’t that a big word.”
You showed the tell tale signs of being a lesbian for years, the popular girls all pretended you were preying on them in the changing room, calling you a d*ke for years until you reached the point of just changing in the bathroom to stop yourself from snapping at them. They must’ve always had a hunch, and why ever they thought Liz was your brother's girlfriend is beyond you. Men truly are more trouble than they’re worth.
“Yes, I’m gay. Yes, Elizabeth is my wife. I didn’t realise this would be earth shattering information.” You cast your eyes up to the ceiling, erected like a great old Church steeple, and shutter them for a moment, gathering your bearings. “I’m going to find Liz, little man. Told you I shouldn't have come.”
“Don’t call me little man!”
“I’m ten minutes older than you, I’ll call you what I like.” you tease, sticking your tongue out childishly, receiving a sarcastic sneer from your brother. Right now, all you want is Liz. “I wish I could say it was nice to see you all again, but then we’d all be liars. Goodbye.”
They gawk in a greatly uncouth and infantile manner as you stride away, pep in your step as you approach your stunning wife, wrapping your arm around her stomach as she waits for her tea—English Breakfast, naturally—to cool down.
“Hey beautiful,” you greet.
“Hey, you. What happened?” she asks, instantly noting the sallow bags that have swiftly formed beneath your eyes.
“They were being arseholes, c’mon, let’s just stand in the corner until it’s socially acceptable to leave this hellhole.”
“We can go now if you’re uncomfortable, baby.”
Ever the forward, sympathetically thinking wife.
“No, no. I came here, I’d better make it worth my while.”
She tangles her fingers with yours, “Okay darling. Say the word, we leave.”
There aren’t words for how safe you feel thanks to Elizabeth, even just with this fractional amount of contact from her. She’s the answer to all your prayers and more, the thing in life you'll never deserve. Her love for you is endless, her affections infinite, and every day, you fall more and more in love with her, especially when she’s as kind as she is now.
It barely takes five minutes, the two of you hugging, kissing, leaning against a broad oak pillar, half shadowed, for someone to approach. One of the girls you despised, costume jewellery on her wrists, a self aggrandised smirk painted onto her fake lips. Martha? Mabel? Maddie?
“I heard you were here,” she starts, placing her tackily manicured hand onto her hip, “it’s so good to see you! How are you?”
“Great, thanks.” you say blandly, keeping your attention on Elizabeth’s hand entwined with yours.
“This is your… friend? Why did you bring a friend to this?”
She laughs mirthlessly, such a fake sound—like this cow's boobs—it makes your primal instincts flare. Elizabeth holds you impossibly closer, her arm around your waist tightening as you seek solace in her.
“y/n and I are married, thank you. I don’t appreciate the homophobic, disrespectful insinuations.”
She stifles another laugh, “You’re punching above your weight a bit aren’t you, y/n.”
“Don’t rise to it,” Liz headily murmurs in your ear, sending pleasant, calming vibrations throughout your whole body.
You gulp down as much air as you can, curling tighter into Liz, before saying what you thought all those years ago, “I’d rather be ‘punching’ and married to a woman I love rather than be a Goddamn trophy wife going nowhere, leeching off daddy’s money. People like you will never change. I’m happy, and I have a good feeling that’s more than the likes of you and your sad old minions can say.”
“Sweetheart, come on.” Liz whispers, and her hold on you increases until it begins to pinch, not that you mind, and then she’s thankfully tugging you away.
You barely make it out the door, Liz leaning down to kiss you heartily, passionately, before people are clamouring over you, what’s-her-faces friends, people you used to be in fair acquaintance with, all speaking together, their voices overlapping in what you can only believe to be expressions of acceptance.
“Um, thank you, I’ll just be back in a moment.” you say to those who bother to listen. Next thing, you’re darting out the way you came, tugging Liz down the great stone steps in front of the behemoth building, and then are leaning against the old wall, almost crumbling with rubble on the exterior at least, not as well preserved as the inside.
She joins you not a moment later, ferreting around the pockets in her skirt for the spare cigarette and lighter she slipped in earlier. Liz doesn’t condone your smoking in any way whatsoever, and in fact she’s the main reason that you quit, but she knows that when your anxiety is high during times like these, one can’t hurt. She always comes prepared.
She is definitely the most consistent, reliable thing in your life by a long shot. Naturally, you two have your fair share of ups and downs, and on the occasion you get your periods at the same time, you’re a complete dichotomy of furious fights and condoling cuddles, while the rest of the time you find yourselves in sheer throes of passion. You may be a dependable couple bound to stay together forever, but that doesn’t mean that the flame of lust once born there has even momentarily flickered: it’s why you work so well. Men are awful in bed, from both of your experiences. Only a woman truly knows how to please another woman. And in the many ways that Liz is a home-body and sticks to the safe side of things, sex is not one of those areas, and you frequently wind up in another one of her barmy—though blissfully pleasurable—experiments. Her daring never goes amiss, and you can’t help but pray that she has something up her sleeve (besides the cigarette) to dull the ache of the day, and also the growing desire pooling between your legs upon seeing have such a naturally demanding power, and looking so Goddamn stunning in her maxi dress. And the lip nibble, God—
“Before you ask, I’m not shagging you out here.” she says, lighting your cigarette with steady hands.
You inhale the smoke, allowing it to form dark halos around your head once you puff it out through pursed lips, hoping it obscures your sheepish smile and averted eyes from Liz’s view.
“I wasn't thinking about that.”
“Yes you were. You forget how well I know you.”
You shoot her a sardonic smile and take another deep drag, the bitter taste pouring into your senses, filling your lungs, calming your mind before you let it go with one long, shaky breath. The smoke has a way of revealing the air, making an artistry of its swirls and flow, something you’ve always been able to appreciate. Ever the wise one, Liz just sees the poison it’s creating within your body, and will do anything to make you stop.
The sick, intrusive thought that you might be disappointing her by this simple act alone rises a cough to your throat with the next puff, but in reality she looks so nonchalant, her eyes closed, a simple smile playing on her perfect lips as she revels in the moment, in your presence, her pinky finger looped just over yours against the crumbling brick wall. Nonetheless, the uneasiness is enough for you to stub the cigarette out under your shoe before it’s even half-way smoked.
“Baby, you okay?” she asks sympathetically, turning to face you so that her shoulder is pressed to the wall, her spare arm flying around to brush against your upper arm, thumb caressing the flesh there through your clothes.
“Yeah, course. Can we stay out here a bit, though?”
You expect her to wholeheartedly agree, because you could tell by the subtle sensing of her limber body and the sudden snap attitude she had that she was just as uncomfortable in there as you were, perhaps more so. Her reflexes may as well be yours with how used you are to them. That’s exactly how you know that she’s going to refuse your request by the almost imperceptible crest of her nails into your supple skin.
“Your brother texted, he asked you to come back in: people won’t stop badgering him about you.” She pauses, but upon hearing you huff, hurriedly leaps back in. “I mean of course we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, this is about you, not your brother…”
But it is about your brother. You agreed to come here today to be of help to him. And besides, Elizabeth has almost as much loyalty to your brother as she does to you, the two of them having been friends before he introduced you to her. That certainly didn’t have the outcome he was expecting, but you’ve all remained close nonetheless. Mentally, you give yourself a shakedown. How could you be so selfish? Today isn’t about you, not really. Sure you’d like to make peace with your past and your old tormentors one last time before leaving and never seeing them again, but the main reason is support.
“No, you’re right,” you say after a long moment of lamentation.
“That’s a first,” Liz snorts.
You smack her playfully, “Watch it, you.”
“Hey, who’s the pillow princess around here?”
Your cheeks instantly flush. “That was one time.”
“More like five,” she umms and ahhs, but grasps your hand a little tighter regardless.
It’s a fair comment on her part: Liz does wield the majority of the power in the relationship, and is definitely more of a top that you are, but you ensure that you pleasure her just as much as she does you, it’s only fair. Apart from those few times you decided to try something new… you got tired of that pretty quickly, though, since you couldn’t go too long without tasting her while you were in bed. No matter how many times you’ve had sex, no matter how many mind-blowing orgasms you receive, your desire for her is never quite quelled. Frankly, you hope it never is.
“Stop thinking about fucking me, babe,” she scolds, and pulls you up fully standing from your temporary reprieve against the wall. “Later, I promise. Not here.”
Embarrassment heats your cheeks at the fact she so easily deciphers your filthy thoughts, but then again, she always has. She leads you back inside, and all but hands you over to your brother, practically jumping with impatience at the door to the hall.
“Thank God you’re b—” he cuts himself off, moving closer to you, imperiously sniffing your clothes. “Did you smoke again?” You nod. “Fucking hell, well, there’s another conversation topic, we’ll talk about this later. Can you believe this lot didn’t know you were gay? What morons…”
“Hey, I’m not that obviously gay, am I?”
The dead silence that envelops you gives you the answer you weren’t too keen on receiving in the first place.
“But!” Liz helpfully adds in her most cheery tone. “If you hadn’t been so obviously gay, I probably never would’ve asked you out.”
She beams even as you roll our eyes, “So endearing, babe.”
“Hurry up, this lot are arseholes.”
“I know.” you deadpan. He sends you a snarky smile.
Following him through the small clans of people meandering and congregating amongst themselves, all with some sort of beverage in their hands, you feel your hand grow clammy in Liz’s. Your mind doesn’t get the chance to run away with itself or whirr on for too long, though, before you’re pulled into a group of people—all three of you—and are all welcomed with enthused hugs and professions of well wishes.
“Oh how are you? You look so well, I hope you’ve been doing good!”
Well, you think, if they cared enough they’d have contacted you. Half of them are your brothers Facebook friends and he’s often posting pictures of you hanging out, or childhood throwbacks, and tagging you in them in plain view. Thankfully, your page is private, and Elizabeth doesn’t even have social media. She’s smart.
You engage in conversation—well, they do, you just listen and hum when you’re supposed to, making surprised faces at the right parts—about one classmate who couldn’t be here because she married a mobster and isn’t allowed to discuss her lifestyle. She isn't. She got pregnant straight out of school and is going through her second divorce: your brother saw her recently. Who are you to deny them gossip when you really couldn’t care less?
In minutes they seem to have exhausted all possible fascinating subject matters, or at least make it appear that way as they turn all eyes on you.
“So, y/n, we hear you have a girlfriend!”
Not again.
“Wife; this is Liz.”
“How are you.” she says, more by way of greeting than having any regard for them.
“Oh my God,” one woman clamours, “are you Australian? My boyfriend is Australian! Maybe you know him?”
Liz’s face breaks into a wide smile, the first one of the event. Who cares that it’s at the expense of another person's intelligence, or lack thereof? You and your brother struggle to stifle your own laughter as you loll your head against his broad shoulder, too.
“Australia is more than seven and a half million square kilometres. In context, the UK is only two-forty-two thousand. We have a population of 25 million. I’d be more likely to meet the queen and the president.” she quips. Ever the fount of useless knowledge; as are you both.
“Oh,” says the woman, casting a sheepish gaze away.
“But, um, yeah, I am Australian.”
“You’re tall,” another blatantly observes, “you look Dutch.”
“Polish-Irish. Not far off.” she says again, fixing a smile of nonchalance.
People turn to you for something to say. You have nothing: nothing to say to these awful sycophants, so you’re half relieved and half angered further when your name is called from somewhere behind you.
“y/n y/l/n!”
Great, another bellend. Star of the football team. You settle yourself after a sudden wave of dizziness from spinning on your heel to see just who was calling you, and you’re not particularly surprised, but not glad either, when he’s excited to join the dull circle.
“Actually,” you correct, “it’s y/n Debicki.”
Silence cools around the circle. What, have these people been living under rocks for the past God knows how many years?
“Oh, why?” he asks.
“I got married and took my wife’s name.” you grit out just barely, balancing from foot to foot, the wooden floor creaking around you. Some more wine would be really good right about now, but instead you just settle for an intoxicating peck from Liz’s lips, the chiffon of her skirt shifting again to reveal your held hands and glistening wedding rings.
“Oh!”
The silence is agony. Why can’t the ground just swallow you up already? Your brother's getting angry, his fist clenching, picking at his nails, while everyone else in the group is exchanging anxious eye contact. Liz and her insanely long legs could probably give you a leg-up to one of the immensely tall windows as a quicker, though slightly more problematic escape route…
“By the way, that’s totally fine.”
“Yeah,” someone adds, you can’t be bothered to look who. “We totally accept it.”
“It’s like you’re not even gay, but straight, and normal. N—not that being gay isn’t normal, just that we don’t see you any differently.”
“You’re the same y/n you always were.” one smiles at last.
Your brother is going to lose it in three… two… one…
“Oh yeah? The y/n that you all relentlessly picked on and victimised for years? The same y/n who was forced to hide her identity and everything she wanted to be for years just because you back-thinking bastards didn’t want a lesbian in the class?” he shouts, flailing his arms madly about, hissing one of the broad, tree trunk pillars in the process. He doesn’t flinch. Turning to you, he starts in a softer voice, “I never should’ve asked you to come here, I’m so sorry y/n, I was so selfish to bring you back to this hellhole. It’s no wonder you didn’t want to come with these dipshits tossing around! And Liz, you don’t deserve this either. Please, do us all a favour, and take y/n home, never bringing her back here. You were right all these years, sweet, it’s the place nightmares are born. And you scummy lot should all be ashamed of yourselves!”
His breath is ragged once he’s done with his rant, his forehead glistening with sweat, his knuckles white with tension.
“Liz, could you get him some water, please?” you whisper into her ear.
She nods affirmatively, and breaks from your grasp, steering your hunched, tense, seething brother in the direction of the drinks table.
“Thanks, I guess,” you begin, kicking your heels into the splintering oak floor, your wine long forgotten, “like, for the acceptance and stuff. But I’ve always been this way, he’s right. It’s not some earth shattering revelation, I was just too shy to come out because you all tossed slurs around like it was okay.” You take a deep breath, and in that time, Liz has returned and stuck herself to your side, your brother happily alone in the corner with a cold glass of water as you cast a glance over your shoulder. You comb your fingers through Elizabeth’s coiffed blonde hair to relieve some anxiety, and are further reassured when she presses her lips to your earlobe, glistening with the diamonds she gifted you. “Besides, this shouldn’t be a thing you have to zealously profess to accept, it should be just as normal as one of you walking in with your heterosexual partner.” As some of them have done, and no one’s batted an eyelid.
A din of agreement sounds out from them, but you know they’re all more than a little meek after being scolded like schoolchildren by your big scary brother. He’s a teddy bear, really, but when he flips, he flips.
When you arise no cohesive response from anyone, you rest your head on Liz’s shoulder, and ask, “Did you see that article on the BBC yesterday morning?”
You have no idea what article you’re on about, but one leaps in with something about climate change, and one about a rise in violent crime in the area. Thank God you don’t live there anymore.
“I forgot about that one!” you gasp with feigned surprise.
Liz looks down on you warmly, chuckling at the mischievous glint in your eye. She knows exactly what you’re up to. But after today, you can walk away from this place, despite the stunning old architecture of the gorgeous building, the beautiful panelling on the walls and the window you spent so many hours gazing at while daydreaming wistfully through assemblies and exams, never to return. Frankly, after this shit show, you’d have it no other way. The teachers will be arriving soon, and in the hopes you see your favourite old teacher, Mrs Alleman, you decide it can’t hurt just to stick around a little bit longer, even if you don’t listen to anyone's conversation. It’s not like they want to involve you.
*
Before you know it, ten dreary minutes have passed, and as each second slips by, you’re losing the will to live. Even these people are bored to death by the sound of their own voices, unsurprisingly. You’ve just busied yourself the whole time by playing with Liz’s long, slender fingers and her glistening silver ring. She’s becoming more and more antsy, though, so you’re unsurprised when she moves to stand away, speaking only when there’s a brief intermission of silence.
“I’m heading to the loo, honey. Which way is it?” she asks politely.
“Out the door we came, but on the other side of the corridor is a closed door, down that corridor it’s the fourth on the right, up a couple of stairs.”
Her eyes widen, “This place is a maze.”
“I know,” you chuckle, and lean up to peck her lips. “They’re the staff ones, down a cohorted route in a forbidden corridor so we wouldn’t use them.”
“You,” she shakes her head, bending down to kiss you again from her standing position, though she does practically double down, and has to press a hand to her chest to prevent her dress from falling, “are so randomly knowledgeable.” It’s really more of an awkward stowed away memory, but you take it anyway. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
As she draws away, she catches your lip in her teeth. Again. If it wouldn’t arouse suspicion, you’d be after her like a bullet, but, well… So you just sit there, counting the minutes, the seconds until she returns and you’re able to make a quick exit, barely making an agreeable sound or two when someone deigns to involve you in the deathly boring conversation they’re having about the FTSE or something, but she doesn’t return. It’s only after five minutes—you meticulously checked your watch—that you realise she’s probably gotten lost, your heart fluttering into your throat.
“I think Liz is lost, I’m gonna go find her,” you say, not that anyone exactly notes your absence or offers you as much as a nod, so you stand and stroll away, not caring about your knocked over glass as you stalk out of the great hall, breaking into a slight jog as soon as the doors are closed behind you.
You could swear you catch your brother winking across the room as they close, but you can’t be sure, not with how crazy you are after Liz did that thing she does every single time she instigates sex. You’ve been together for more than four marvellous years, and yet it still brings fire into your veins, butterflies into your stomach, and lust into your mind.
She’s not in the foyer, or down the ostentatious portrait corridor, so you burst into the pristine white and purple bathroom, only to find Liz leant against the wall, a slight bulge in her dress.
“God, I was wondering if you’d ever get the message, I’ve been waiting for ages.” she huffs, slamming her mouth onto yours impatiently.
You gasp, winding your arms around her neck, not complaining in the slightest when you hear the door lock and you’re lifted high against the wall. Your hand flies down on instinct, and you’re not disappointed when your hand wraps around something long, hard and thick.
The squeak of surprise that leaves your lips only spurs Liz on more. “You wore the strap.”
“I went and fetched it from the car, thought we could have some fun, make this worth your while.”
“I love you so much.” you breathe, no time for courtesy.
Crashing your lips down onto hers, you lick filthily into her mouth, your tongue skimming her teeth, but your control barely lasts a moment before she’s overpowering you, nipping at your lip as she busies herself otherwise with gaining access to your throbbing, drenched core.
“Liz…” you moan. When she skims her fingers over the lace edge of your panties.
“So wet already baby,” she taunts, her breath hot on your ear, “have I done all this? Such a dirty girl…”
Her voice holds a gravelly quality, down to lust you’d wager. Her accent becomes so much more pronounced during times of passion, too. Her voice alone sends another wave of wetness gushing through you, soaking Liz’s fingertips as she slides them under your panties and into your folds.
“Oh poor helpless baby,” she croons, biting down on your neck harshly. “I don’t even need to use lube today, do I?”
You can’t respond, can’t even try to. She’s so intoxicating you could cry. All that’d come out is senseless babble. You can barely muster a breath with her gaze of such intensity burning into your fucked-out face. In all fairness, she doesn’t usually have to, since she makes you gush with a single glance, but the sensual jibe does make you a little embarrassed.
You can’t think straight when she plunges a single, long digit deep within your velvety walls, stroking at a torturous pace.
“F— fuck, faster, please.” you stammer.
“Only because my baby asked so nicely.”
Her hand begins to move faster against you, the rustle of clothes nothing compared to the sounds of your wetness. She adds another digit daringly, and pumps within you faster, her technique impeccable. If she’s not careful, you’ll be falling apart around her fingers in little more than a moment. Over the years she’s learnt how to bring you to mind-shattering climax embarrassingly quickly.
“Lizzie…” you moan when she hits that special spongy spot that makes you see stars behind your eyes.
Quick thinking as ever, she clamps one elegant hand over your mouth, her pale fingers digging into your cheeks, the metal of her rings cool against your lips. You can’t help yourself, your tongue darting out to lick the band of her wedding ring, skilfully wrapping your wet muscle around her. She can never resist when you do that, and her own knees begin to buckle, but her pace speeds up.
“Baby, I’m close,” you hiss against her hand, words muffled.
Your shoulder presses painfully into a ridge of the wall, but you can’t care, not when her wrist is flicking so quickly, yet somehow each thrust is deeper and more pleasurable than the last, the pads of her fingers catching all the right places within our quivering walls, continually hitting that spot. The heel of her palm keeps hitting your clit with a voracious intensity, needing to bring you toppling over the edge.
You come unravelled with a cry of her name, your legs unable to even partially hold yourself up as she settles you down gently on the floor, forcing you to lean heavily against the countertop. Stars and fireworks erupt to create images of Liz behind your eyelids, in the front of your brain. And the noise you made… After that, you wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the hall knows what you’re up to, and somehow, that only fuels your need for Liz further.
“How do you get hotter every time you do that?” she husks.
Purple glittery potpourri on the window-sill prickles at your upper arm as you shuffle backwards, reaching out to Elizabeth with grabby hands. Her petite chest heaves with heavy breaths, her hair sticking up a little in cute blonde spikes.
“You wanna sit, babe?” you ask breathlessly.
Your own vision is a bit blurred from riding on cloud nine just moments ago, your juices running down your legs, glistening in the harsh bathroom light.
“You’ve always got a seat with me.” You wink, and wet your lips with your tongue. “Come sit.”
She chuckles at you, instead moving to kneel between your open legs on the edge of the counter, hovering over you
“Wait until we get home,” she teases, pressing the cold rings on her hand to your inner thigh, “I don’t trust myself, I’ll never leave if I sit now.”
Her lips lace with yours filthily, and you find yourself unable to stop your legs reflexively bolting out to wrap around her hips again, hand coming up to cup her cheek and neck with a bruising hold. Her hips rock against yours, and with your core already opened and revealed to her, all it takes is a slight fidget and a particularly harsh rut of her pelvis, and the priapic extension of Elizabeth—attached, thankfully, by a harness—is buried to the hilt within you. Your gasp is silent, your mouth opening in an inaudible ‘o’, a soundless plea for more. She’s prepped you well as always, and sought to open you up fully, which means that only a moment later you’re tapping her shoulder to signal for her to move.
The bulbous tip of the toy gains your attention rather swiftly as it grazes that heartily stimulated spot that Liz was so focussed on just minutes earlier. Her hips move with such grace even in such an ungainly act, her years of dance training aiding her elegance. God, she’s just so perfect in every way.
“Fuck, baby, I think I’m close—” she murmurs in your ear.
She begins to suck hickeys into your jawline, rendering you utterly speechless at the onslaught of pleasure you’re receiving all at once. Your boobs are bouncing as she pounds into you harder on the counter, the base of the strap now hitting your clit.
“Me too,” you eventually garner to choke out.
Your own pleasure can wait, take a damn backseat, because sweat is beading on Liz’s forehead as she wrecks her knees to fuck you more furiously, delivering you all of the pleasure you could ever want. But Elizabeth? She deserves it far more than you do after everything she’s done for you today.
She bites her lip, probably to keep a moan down the same way you are by biting your tongue, and she proceeds to hook her willowy arms around the crooks of your knees, thus tugging your legs up onto her shoulder, allowing her to hit an even deeper angle than before.
You can’t help the obscene whimper that escapes you, shrill and so pleasured, “Baby, keep— ohmygod please!”
Your head falls back against the hard porcelain rim of the sink, knocking some sense into you. This is your chance, while her eyes are still closed and the veins and ridges of the fake plastic cock are driving deep inside you, squeezed by your clenching walls. Slipping your own arm down her body and between the two of you, you find your way beneath the strap and onto her throbbing pearl.
“Shit!” she squeaks upon the first spark of contact, her body temporarily seizing, but she falls back into her previous pace within moments.
You rub circles on her voraciously, suddenly darting up to capture her lips in a sloppy kiss as a cry threatens to spill from her lips. But then you feel it coming, and your entire body tenses in anticipation, your eyes flying wide open to watch heaven crash right before your eyes.
First, her shoulders tense, followed by her eyelashes fluttering against her sharp cheekbone without her even being aware, then her legs try to involuntarily clench around your hand, her clit throbbing with anticipation as you speed up your movements. Her knees go next, then her arms, and she’s unable to hold herself up, but her hips don’t stop once. That’s when it happens.
“y/n, y/n, y/n.” she repeats like it’s her prayer of salvation.
Every muscle in her body quivers, her lips parting, her nose scrunching. Her teeth then catch your lip in the kiss you’re mixed up in, and her hips still. It doesn’t matter, since you’ve reached your own climax just from watching her fall apart at your very own mercy, your own legs falling from her shoulders, open wide on the counter as you chant her name in as quiet a whisper as you can muster.
Heavy breathing resonates through the small room, the stifling air now reeking of sex.
“C’mere,” you coax.
The counter is cold beneath you, the sink uncomfortable as you lie down flat, but when Liz crawls feebly into your arms, it matters a whole lot less. The comfort she provides is, and always has been, incomparable. Ethereal is the only way to describe her this way, too, blonde hair ruffled as she curls into your side, burying her nose into your shoulder, her arm slung over your waist.
“Do you think you got your revenge, babe?” she asks in a quiet voice, husky, laced with sex.
“Definitely. There’s no way they didn’t hear that.”
“Probably more than what most of those has-beens have got in years.”
You meet her twinkling eyes, and dissolve into a fit of giggles together, gripping her even tighter. It always was a secret fantasy of yours to do something like this, but you never imagined you’d be here nearly a decade later, fucking your wife in the staff bathroom. That’s just… beyond, but so hot.
“Ready to blow this place?”
“More than,” you answer, “but safety first.”
She gazes up at you, pouts and grumbles, but slips off you and into the left hand stall anyway, while you take the right. Once she emerges, the strap is safely stowed away in a discreet bag—one you purchased specifically should a chance like this ever arise since you’re not fans of handbags—and she turns the tap on. You wash your hands in a contented silence, and fix each other's clothes and hair the same way, until you’re at least half way presentable (though still more than mildly dishevelled) in order to just escape to the car and then hope at long merciful last.
“Should we text your brother?”
“I’ll do it when we reach the car,” you tell her, taking her hand as you unfasten the lock and pelt out into the corridor. “Wait, one minute.”
She watches you peculiarly as you pull out perfume from your pocket, spritzing it around the room, before re-entering fully and cranking the window open. At least this way the scent of sex is partially masked.
“Ever the resourceful one,” she chuckles, following your lead down the corridor, her long legs bounding beside you.
Your giggles carry around the high ceilinged building, bumping and bouncing off every wall so it seems, and once you're out into the foyer, she ensures to kiss you loudly, bending down to meet your height, just to test if your kisses have the same effect.
You don’t get to test that, however, before an all too familiar voice snaps you out of your trance, and suddenly, you’re fifteen and being told off for late homework again.
“y/n!”
You scurry to hide Liz behind you, as if that’s of any use whatsoever, and almost melt into tears when you see Mrs Alleman.
“Oh dear, how good to see you.” she professes, and before you quite know what to do with yourself, she’s standing right in front of you, wearing the same stylishly sensible shoes she always did.
“And you, Miss.”
“Who’s this?”
Glee forces a wide smile onto your face, standing aside to allow Elizabeth’s full beauty to be appreciated.
“This is my wife, Elizabeth,” you say, the proudest thing you’ve said all evening. “This is Mrs Alleman, my language teacher. She taught me everything I know.”
“Oh stop it,” she plays coy, but is gasping and gawking joyously beneath it. “Mr Smith owes me a tenner now. I predicted you’d come here with a female partner of some sort, he said you’d just come as an out and proud lesbian but single.”
Your jaw drops, and you can see Elizabeth’s chest rattling a little with swallowed laughter.
“I’m sorry, what? You had a bet on me being gay?”
“Oh yes, it first started when you were in year eleven and so helplessly queer, we couldn’t help but keep placing bets on how long you’d stay in the closet.” She places a gentle hand on your upper arm, noting the evident flush about you, and turns towards Liz. “Anyway, hi Elizabeth. You treat our girl well, she was a great student.”
“Always, Ma’am.” Liz answers dutifully, squeezing your hand even tighter in a silent promise. “She’s the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to me, and I’m glad she had an influence like you among all that lot of bogans.”
Mrs Alleman is impressed, you can tell since she’s wearing that same delighted expression she did when you told her you got into your top choice university with the results you aimed for, thanks to her teaching. “Tall, out, and Aussie? She really does have it all. And as much as I’d like to argue, you’re totally right, that year was a damn nuisance.”
“Somehow, no one has matured since we left?” you comment with feigned shock.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” It didn’t surprise you either. They were a fat lot of use, the whole lot of them. At least you and your brother were able to do good on your promise to get away from them all. “What are you doing now?”
“Oh, I work in translation for the home office and cabinet ministers.” Though your statement doesn’t hold as much pride as the one about Elizabeth being your wife did.
Her eyes grow wide, “That’s brilliant! I know you always wanted to do something like that.”
“I did, and I actually enjoy it.”
Mrs Alleman’s face softens, “I hoped you would. But promise me you’ll never become a teacher.”
You loose a chuckle, saying, “Never,” before stilling to a beat of easy silence.
“I love those earrings, by the way.”
“Oh!” You twist them subconsciously. “Anniversary present.”
“Y’know, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get inside and make a speech,” she grumbles. “Drop me an email, I’d love to catch up and properly see how you’re doing. Bring this tall drink of water if you’d like,” she adds with a wink.
“I’d really like that Miss, thank you.” you say, flushing a little.
Mrs Alleman was always one for affection, so you’re not entirely surprised when she approaches you with wide arms, her court shoes muffled on the foyer carpet. You accept the hug, and you’re surprised when Liz does the same. You say your goodbyes, agree to meet again, and let Elizabeth lead you back to the car, your fingers woven together.
“Was that worth being dragged out of the house for?” Liz asks.
“Hmm, I’m not sure. Perhaps shoving that strap down my throat will make it a little more worthwhile,” you say with a smirk.
“I heard that!” Mrs Alleman shouts from the top of the stone steps, gazing at you disapprovingly despite the laughs tumbling from her.
You cling to Liz, pressing your lips into a thin line when you feel your phone buzz, your brother's name popping up on the screen.
‘Everyone knows what you were doing. Don’t come back.’
‘We weren’t planning on it,’ you type back. Not now you’ve reaped your revenge, at least. You shut your phone after adding to the message, ‘Drinks at ours tonight.’
These people from your past are insignificant, Liz is your future and your forever.
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delos-mio · 3 years
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Out of the Woods - College!AU - PART 2
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A/N: Part 2! I hope you enjoy this chapter. No major warnings apply! Thoughts, feelings, predictions always welcome <3
***
After dropping you off that evening, Nikolai found his mind to be running a mile a minute. It was 1am, relatively early by college standards, but he had no desire to go back to the party and no desire to go home. Instead, he walked around campus until his feet throbbed. He thought about your smile and your laugh, the way you bit your lip and the way you toyed with the ends of your hair. He thought about how you could very well be in the arms of another man right now.
He could have lived without that mental image.
It seemed wild to him that you could make so many feelings flood back to him in such a short amount of time. It hit him like a ton of bricks the moment you locked eyes, and it was instantly like the last 5 years of silence never even happened. God, he wished they never happened. How could he have been so cruel? Who just up and left the person they were very clearly falling in love without a trace? Nikolai, that’s who. And under the penetrating glow of the moon, for the next six or so hours, Nikolai hated himself for it.
Nikolai quietly tried to sneak back into the apartment he shared with Aleks around 7am. Generally, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, so he figured it’d be no problem. As the front door clicked shut behind him, another door clicked open inside the apartment. Alina, clad in only one of Aleks’s shirts, exited his room and immediately jumped upon seeing Nikolai. He quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention to the ceiling, trying to look anywhere but at the half-naked girl before him.
“So, I take it he wasn’t too upset I left the party early?” he asked before she blushed and quickly padded down the hall to the bathroom.
Nikolai pushed his hair back from his face and shook his head. Of course Aleks had company. He made his way to his room and let the back of his knees hit the mattress, flopping onto his back. His eyes fluttered shut as he mulled over the events of the evening. He knew he needed to turn his brain off and actually try to get some sleep, but that was still proving to be rather difficult. As he was getting lost in his own thoughts, he was interrupted by his door being flung open and Aleks leaning in his door frame.
“Do you mind? I’m really tired,” Nikolai grumbled, still not opening his eyes.
“You dog! You got home later than me,” he said with a smile evident in his voice.
“It’s not like that. You’ll notice I didn’t bring anyone home with me, now did I?” Nikolai was starting to get irritated by his roommate’s presence and hoped he’d leave him in peace and quiet sooner rather than later.
“Maybe not. But you could have. Seemed like you and Genya’s new roommate had something going on,” he pried.
“Can you fuck off? Respectfully?”
“Alright, alright. I’ll let you sleep. But you’re gonna tell me about her when you wake up.” With that, Nikolai heard his door shut again, leaving him in the stillness of his room. He fell asleep half hanging off the bed where he landed with the girl who got away on his mind.
----
When you woke up the next morning, Nikolai was still fresh on your mind. The way he smiled, the way he smelled…everything about him haunted your dreams. It didn’t even take a full minute before the guilt settled in. Jesus Christ, what were you thinking? Did Matt cease to exist because your first love cropped up out of nowhere? You just started flirting with Nikolai again like it was as easy as breathing. But you couldn’t help yourself—Nikolai had worked his way into your head instantly just like he had when you were 17. Like the first time you saw him take off his helmet, shake out his perfect, golden hair, and skate to the bench. It had been a wrap since that moment. You groaned into your pillow, feeling a little nauseous and a lot guilty. After freshening up and pulling a sweatshirt on, you wandered out into the living room of your apartment with Genya where she was eagerly chatting with Zoya over a cup of coffee.
“Fancy seeing you here, ditcher,” Genya teased as you grabbed a mug for yourself.
“I didn’t ditch,” you said. “Nik told you guys we were leaving.”
“Where’d you end up anyways?” Genya asked with a tiny smirk. This line of questioning amused Zoya and she gladly joined in on the antagonizing.
“I can only assume, knowing him, that you ended up somewhere more...private,” Zoya interjected.
“It wasn’t like that. I um, we ended up just going to get some food. Catch up or whatever,” you said while you shot daggers at Genya. You paused to take a sip of the too-hot drink before continuing. “Where have you been hiding Nikolai anyways?”
“He ain’t hiding- have you met the dude? I met him during Freshman orientation. Zoya and I lived in the dorm room next to him and Aleks,” she said as a matter of fact. “We’ve been hanging out ever since. Real good guy.”
“I know,” you sighed, pushing around a pen that was left on the coffee table.
“You like him! Oh man, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about him being totally your type. You and your pretty boys. Mhmm, I bet he liked you too,” Genya teased and smiled again.
“No, he’s just an old friend,” you lied. “I have a boyfriend.”
“Could have fooled me,” Zoya mumbled, but you caught it. The comment did nothing to ease the growing knot in your stomach.
“Seriously. He’s my friend. I kinda got carried away with the flirting last night, but I was so excited to see him, you know?” You looked at them both, silently pleading with them to let it drop. “We’re just friends. Nothing else.”
“That may be true now, but the dude has it bad for you. I saw the way he looked at you, dude,” Genya said softly, finally sympathetic to your anguish. “Can I ask how you know each other? Besides ‘high school or something’?”
“We didn’t even go to school together.” You leaned back into the cushions, letting your focus drift away from the girls across from you. “My parents own an ice rink in my hometown and I’d work the concession stand when I got out of school- do my homework and pour hot chocolate or whatever. Nik played hockey with his high school team there.” You smiled to yourself. “I saw him come off the ice one day and thought he was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. And one night, he walked right up to me after practice and started talking to me like we’d known each other forever. I didn’t have a ton of friends in school and hadn’t really been noticed by boys like...ever. So to have this super hot dude flirting with me was wild.”
“Oh my god, was Nik your first crush?” Genya squealed.
“I’d had a couple guys that caught my eye before him, but he was the first guy I really liked. First guy I kissed. First guy I…” you trailed off, letting the pause speak for itself.
“No wonder he was so happy to see you,” Zoya said.
“He kinda ghosted me when he left for college and I hadn’t talked to him since the last night we were together. I was too scared to try and find him on Facebook or anything. I didn’t want to see him with other girls hanging all over him and hurt my own feelings, you know?” Genya and Zoya exchanged a sympathetic look. “Anyways, that’s about it. Pretty boring stuff.”
“Babe…”
“I gotta start getting ready for work,” you said, abruptly standing and putting your mug in the sink. “I’ll see you guys later.” With that, you shuffled out of the room, hoping neither of them caught the hitch in your voice. So, maybe you weren’t as over that ghosting as you thought you were.
----
The weekend passed with a lot of idle time thinking about when you could possibly see Nikolai again. You were really regretting not scrawling your number somewhere for him. It was torture not knowing how to find him again outside of groveling to Genya, or hoping dumb luck would make you run into him.
You made it to Monday morning and somehow managed to make it to your 8:30 am class on time; a rare feat for you. Thankfully, the class was all engaged in a lively discussion of what constituted a modern classic novel, so it was easy to stay alert and engaged. Before you knew it, your professor was dismissing you and reminding you all about the paper that was due on Thursday. You shuffled down the stairs of the academic building and paused once you got to the quad. Normally, you’d head home for a few hours before your afternoon class, but you had a little time to spare today before your study group. But you also had Nikolai’s face burned in your mind. Would it be totally weird to try to find him?
The building that housed Science and History was only a quarter mile from your classroom, so you made quick work of the walk and tried to hype yourself up, telling yourself that it was normal to want to see him this bad- you’d missed out on a few years there! Of course you wanted to see your friend. When you got inside, you realized you had no idea where you were going. You had yet to take any sort of History class while at school and had absolutely no idea if he was even in class at this time. God, this was seeming like a dumber and dumber idea the more you walked around. After wandering aimlessly for a minute, you saw a familiar head of effortlessly messy golden hair slink out of a classroom.
Immediately, your eye was drawn to him. You were thankful he didn’t notice your presence because you were definitely staring. All weekend, you were sure you had a picture-perfect vision of him in your head, but you were abruptly reminded that he was much more handsome than you could dream up. He had traded in his button down shirt from the other night for a cozy looking grey sweater. You allowed yourself one more moment to admire him from afar before you approached. But Nikolai had turned to face you straight on, face lighting up the moment he saw you.
“I was wondering when you’d come around.” You could hear the smile in his voice.
“So, you don’t think I’m crazy for wandering around a building I’ve literally never set foot in, hoping by cosmic timing you’d be here?” you smirked.
“I promise you, I don’t think you’re crazy. I mean, I was considering doing something quite similar myself,” You couldn’t stop the heat that started to rise in your cheeks.
“So, where are you headed now?” you asked, rocking on your heels.
“Well,” he pondered, “I was going to meet Aleks at The Moose if you’re walking that way.”
“I’m not, but I have a couple minutes before I have to be at my study group if you want to sit outside,” you offered.
“Of course, darling,” he grinned, hazel eyes playful as you found a bench next to the bike rack. “How was your weekend?”
“Not bad,” you shrugged. “I had to work both days, but it was pretty slow, so no complaints. I only got grilled by Genya and Zoya a little. It could have been a lot worse,” you smiled.
“They do love any information they can get their little hands on,” Nikolai said, leaning back into the bench. “You...didn’t see Matt at all?” he probed, trying with all his might to look and sound nonchalant, but failing.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Can I not take an interest in you?” he asked with gentle eyes, but you just glowered.
“No. I didn’t see Matt this weekend. We haven’t even talked since Friday, honestly,” you said. Nikolai didn’t interject at all, just looked at you to go on, if you felt like sharing. “We haven’t really been getting along lately. He’s a nice guy and all, but I don’t know how much we have in common. And he never seems to have time for me unless it’s on his terms. Like, he expects me to be available whenever it works for him, but he’s always conveniently busy if I ask him to do anything with me.” You kicked at a rock near your toe, eyes fixed on the ground, totally unsure why you just told Nikolai all that.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. “I’m saying this as your friend,” he started, making you look in his eyes again. “You deserve someone who understands what a gift it is to spend time with you.” It was so simple, but it made tears instantly spring in your eyes. “Hey. Hey, now. None of that,” he smiled, thumbing a tear away. “Would you maybe want to come over Friday? Get pizza and watch a movie or something?”
“That sounds really nice, Nik,” you nodded. It was then he broke into a blinding smile and you were unable to stop the swirling in your belly.
“Could I—would I be able to get your number? So I can send you my address or whatever,” he added quickly; you were really starting to love seeing him get flustered.
“I think that’s a good idea, yeah.” You reached for some scrap paper and pencil from your bag and scribbled down your number, placing it in the palm of his large hands before standing up. His fingers just barely brushed yours as he took the paper before stowing it away in the front pocket of his jeans. “You can always use that number before Friday too, if you want,” you said with a sly smile and patted Nikolai’s cheek gently. His laugh carried a bit as you walked opposite directions out of the quad, your feet feeling like they were being carried by tiny, pink fluffy clouds.
Fuck. Did you just set up a date with Nikolai? No. No, not a date. Just two friends eating pizza and watching movies. Friends did that all the time.
But as you walked to the cafe where your study group met, there was a crashing wave of guilt that washed over you. What the fuck were thinking? All you were doing was playing with fire, practically begging fate to burn you. You were mentally beating yourself up, feeling like a total shit bag as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, seeing your group already gathered and breaking off into pairs, Matt beaming at you when you came into view.
“Hi, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek as you sat down next to him.
“Hey,” you smiled back with tight lips, hardly able to look at him.
You started going through notes for an upcoming Logic and Reasoning exam, but you found yourself unable to process anything you were reading. Your mind was elsewhere and you only managed half-hearted affirmations and hardly contributed any correct answers. Here Matt was, sweet and excited to see you. He was good, he was nice. Maybe you just needed to make more of an effort with him. Should he really want to do the things you wanted to do, or were you being selfish? You weren’t sure.
“Something wrong?” he asked suddenly, snapping you from your thoughts.
“Just don’t feel good, that’s all,” you shrugged, looking back at your notebook and computer. He accepted that answer and didn’t probe any further.
“So, you should come over Friday. I don’t have anyone else to hang out with and thought we could hang out,” he said into your ear, hand gripping your thigh.
“Can’t,” you said with a shake of your head. “I already have plans.”
“Oh there’s a surprise,” he said, half under his breath. And that...that was it. You immediately slammed your pen onto the table and looked at him with hard eyes.
“Would you just say whatever you’re trying to fucking say?” you seethed.
“Just seems awfully convenient that every time we’re supposed to do anything, suddenly you have plans with I don’t even know who” he said, clearly annoyed. “All I’ve done is try to accommodate you and do what you want, but that doesn’t seem to be enough,” he added with a melodramatic sigh, which was more than enough to set you off.
“Oh, that’s a fucking joke, right?” you laughed. “Maybe you’d know more about my schedule if you ever bothered to talk to me more than once a week. And you literally just said I should come over because no one else can! Like, I’m your girlfriend- I shouldn’t be your last ditch option,” you scoffed. “You know what? I can’t be here right now. Call me when you’re ready to rejoin all of us in reality.” With that, you grabbed your bag and stormed out the door, letting your feet take you quickly in any direction that was simply away. No, you were right about what you said to Nikolai- Matt only saw you as convenient.
Friday couldn’t come soon enough.
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Owe You One - Part 4
Title: Owe You One - Jefferson’s Starship
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 7,067
Warnings: Minor Angst, Sexual Harassment, Self-Loathing, Anxiety, Fluff, Smut, Friends with Benefits
Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?
Owe You One - Masterlist
Squares Filled: Bartender!AU ( @spndeanbingo) FWB Relationship ( @spnfluffbingo)
A/N: Part 4!! I hope y’all enjoy this part!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! Happy reading!!  
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 You stirred away at the pot you had on the stove, getting dinner ready for yourself. It was Friday night, and you had just gotten home from work about half an hour ago. You changed into your comfortable pyjamas before deciding to cook yourself a nice dinner. You were going to curl up on the couch for a little while and maybe turn in early. You had nothing extensive planned. Nothing but your PVR and previous episodes of The Walking Dead to catch up on.
 You reached for a bowl in the cupboard next to you, placing it on the counter before pouring your pasta into it. You heard three loud knocks at your door, pulling you from your meal for a moment. You placed it back down on the stove before heading over to the door, opening it up. You rolled your eyes with a smile when you found Dean standing there with a smile playing on his lips. You walked away from the door, letting him walk in without protest.
 “You want something to eat? I made enough pasta for two,” you pointed out. “Four cheese.”
 “Oh fuck yes,” he nodded, taking a seat at your counter. You reached in the cupboard, grabbing another bowl before pouring some into it. You took two forks out of the drawer, bringing Dean’s bowl over first before your own. You hopped on the chair next to him, looking forward to tasting your meal.
 “Thank you for this,” he smiled, taking a forkful.
 “You’re welcome,” you beamed, taking your own bite.
 “So what are you up to tonight?” he asked nonchalantly.
 “Stuff,” you answered smuggly. “What do you want?”
 “How do you know I want something?” he claimed, his voice went up half an octave.
 “Because you didn’t call or text before coming over tonight. You usually do if you just want to hang out for the night. So I’ll ask again, what do you want, Winchester?” you chuckled.
 “Okay, I have a huge favour to ask and seen as how you’re wearing your cute comfy pyjamas, I know you aren’t doing anything tonight. I also know for a damn fact that you would never let any guy see you in those so you’re not getting laid tonight.”
 “Thank you! I get the point,” you scoffed playfully, taking another bite.
 “I need help at the bar tonight. Sammy’s gonna be late and all I’ve got is Benny. You’re the only one that I can trust,” he stated. “I’ll pay you, of course. And whatever tips you make are yours.”
 “So you want me to bartend at Jefferson’s Starship tonight and I get paid?” you chuckled. “Actual money?”
 “What, you think I’m going to pay you in sex again?” he laughed, shaking his head. “‘Cause I can if you want me to. A little touchy touchy-”
 “Shut up, Dean,” you giggled, shoving him a little. “How late do I have to stay?”
 “Just until Sam gets in,” he assured you. “Not all night.”
 “Alright, let me eat. Then I’ll go get changed. You’re lucky I like you,” you side-eyed him.
 “I owe you big time,” he breathed out in relief. “Like huge, sweetheart.”
 “I’ll take you up on it at some point,” you winked. “Really though, you don’t owe me anything. Remember, you helped me out of a very low point. That isn’t easy.”
 “I still owe you a little. You literally never go out to the bar,” he pointed out with a sad smile.
 “You are more than right. Remember that,” you winked. “How was your day anyways?”
 “Eh, it was okay. Pretty busy as usual. I kept to myself at my station. My dad worked on what he needed to do. I fixed up a couple of cars and got all my paperwork done so I don’t have to do any this weekend. Fresh start Monday morning,” he explained to you. “How was your day?”
 “It was okay. Boring as hell, but that’s my job for you,” you shrugged.
 “So you were going to use this time to unwind, huh?” he said sheepishly. You could see the guilt he felt sores across his features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
 “It’s okay, De. I should probably try to get out more anyways. Sitting at home alone isn’t going to do me any good,” you breathed out.
 “I mean, you’re not entirely wrong. Sometimes alone time is what you need. But in this case, you’re coming out. Not to mention, I own the bar,” he smirked.
 “Yeah yeah,” you tried not to smile.
 You managed to eat your pasta in record time. You figured you’d do the dishes in the morning after your breakfast. You knew Dean had to be there soon, and you didn’t want to leave him or Benny screwed. This was a job for you and you were going to work with professionalism.
 You grabbed something comfortable and presentable to wear to the bar. A pair of dark skinny jeans with a rip in the knee. You pulled on one of your white shirts and threw one of your red flannels over it to keep with the Winchester look. After that, you grabbed your comfortable boots and your bag, heading out the door with Dean by your side.
 Dean opened up your door for you and you slipped inside. There was a part of you that wondered if this was a good idea. After all, he and his brother owned this bar; his family. Last you knew, his family hated you. All but Dean. You didn’t want Sam to walk in and kick you out or worse, yell at you in front of everyone. You didn’t want to ruin their business. This was important to both of them because they started it together. You weren’t going to be the one to come between them. You were simply going to help your friend out and go on your way home. If Dean wanted to join you later, that was fine. But you weren’t supposed to mix business with pleasure.
 Dean parked in his designated spot out the back of the bar. There was a spot for him and a spot for Sam. No one else had access to park back here. You kicked your door open, circling around the car to the front. Dean motioned for you to follow him to the doors around the front of the building.
 The second you walked into the empty bar, you smiled to yourself. This bar wasn’t like any of the bars you had been in and you had been in many of them during your college days. They wanted their place to feel like home in some sense. There was a jukebox in the corner that played only classic rock. Lots of room for people to dance. Enough tables for people to sit. Booths for those who had bigger groups. Couches and chairs set up around the tv. By the actual bar, he had stools set up all around and a tv up on the wall so people could watch from there. He had all his liquor on display and coasters stacked, ready to go. All his glassware was branded with the bar's name, and a cowboy hat. This place was something to be really proud of, that was for certain.
 “Well well, look who it is,” Benny smiled. “I’ll be damned if it isn’t miss Y/N walking in for the first time in forever.”
 “Hi Benny,” you grinned
 “Hiya darlin,” he beamed. “What can I get for you tonight?”
 “I’m working tonight,” you told him, circling around the back of the bar. “Boss needed and extra set of hands.”
 “If you need help with anything, Y/N, just let one of us know. I know you know what you’re doing,” Dean nodded.
 “You’re damn right I do,” you said confidently. You grabbed an apron from the shelf beneath the cash register. You had a notepad, a pen and a cloth in there, ready to get to work. It had been a long time since you had stepped foot behind a bar, but you were sure you were going to snap right back into it pretty quickly. “Let’s do this.”
 It wasn’t long before people flooded into the bar. Some people just getting off work, having a drink to wind down. Others coming in in groups. The three of you worked in a perfect sync with one another. Pouring and mixing drinks the fastest you could get them to the customers in a timely manner. In record time, you had about fifty dollars in tips. The night was just getting started.
 You glanced around the room as soon as the first rush died out. Everyone was distracted in some way. A group of guys watching a game on the couch by the tv. A few women sitting at a table, gossiping about their week and their husbands. Then there was a few loners sitting at the bar, sipping away at a beer or a glass of whiskey. Trying to unwind after the week. You wiped down the counter top.
 “Hey there,” a man greeted you, taking a seat at the counter right in front of you. His smile was wide as he placed his hands on the countertop.
 “What can I get for you?” you asked, taking a deep breath as you tucked your cloth back in your apron.
 “Your phone number for starters,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice. You wanted to scoff but you were working. You weren’t about to ruin Dean’s business because some guy decided to hit on you. Not to mention, he wasn’t that cute. A man like him would be just like the rest of them. They’d get off and you’d be left finishing yourself off in the shower. You weren’t doing that again.
 “Your drink order, sir?” you corrected him, trying to keep your tone in check.
 “Whiskey neat,” he stated. “And that phone number.”
 “Whiskey it is,” you declared, putting the glass down on the napkin in front of him. You reached for the bottle of whiskey behind you, knowing full well he was staring at your ass. He was treating you like you were easy and that wasn’t okay with you. You weren’t doing that anymore. No more shitty guys.
 “Don’t play hard to get, baby,” he frowned. “I saw you eyeing me the second I walked in here tonight.”
 “Enjoy your drink,” you said, your voice void of all emotions. You walked away from him, taking your cloth once more before heading out to the customers area to begin cleaning up empty glasses and bottles. Dean and Benny were still working behind the counter, serving people. It had slowed down a little more. They still had the odd person come up to them.
 You wiped down every table, gathering all the empties. You snapped back into bartender mode pretty quickly. It was something you had done for years during your college years. Dean ran a really nice bar. Everything was really clean, but you also had a feeling that his brother had something to do with it. You took note of what needed replenishing to bring it out during your next trip. You gathered up what you could, placing it on the bar to move to the back when you had the chance to. You wiped down your last table before heading to the back. You could feel the creepy guy’s eyes on you and that told you to move quicker.
 “Baby c’mere,” he cooed, standing up. Your heart began to pound in your chest. You needed to move quickly.
 “Not interested,” you stated clearly, backing away from him. He was a big guy now that you saw him compared to you. He was tall and had a strong build. His hand made its way down to your ass, tugging you into him against your will. You tried your hardest to shove him off of you, but he barely budged. “Get off of me!”
 “Hey! Hey!” Dean shouted, making his way around the bar. “Hands off of her. Now!”
 “We were just getting to know each other, right baby?” He smirked, tugging you in once more. Hearing him say those words only angered you more.
 You pushed him once more, successfully getting him off of you, but not getting as far as you would have liked. “Get the fuck off of me.”
 Dean stepped between you and the douchebag, getting in his face a little more. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched that he was pissed. When Dean was pissed, no one wanted to be near him.
 “House rules. Respecting others, especially women is the second on that list. Sexual harassment is unacceptable. Get the fuck out of my bar,” he warned him, “I’m not going to ask you again.”
 “Whatever, she’s a cheap piece of ass anyways,” he scoffed, throwing down a bill on the counter before grabbing his jacket, heading to the door.
 “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned to face you. His hand came up to the side of your head.
 “Yeah,” you nodded.
 “You want a drink,” he offered you, smiling softly.
 “No thank you. I’m good,” you smiled before heading around the back of the bar to finish cleaning up. You also knew you’d be safer behind the bar and that was where you wanted to be.
 “You sure, darlin’?” Benny raised his eyebrow. “I can make you a mean drink.”
 “I’m sure. I don’t drink,” you stated, placing the empty bottles in the bin.
 “Since when?” Dean furrowed his brows. “We got drunk together a few months back.”
 “Since whenever,” you shrugged.
 “I feel like there is more behind this then you’re leading on,” Benny side-eyed you with a bit of concern.
 “There is, but we’re dropping this now, okay?” you smiled, heading over to the counter to serve the next customer.
 As you handed the customer their drink, Sam walked into the bar. His hair was a bit of a mess and he looked to be in a bit of a rush. You stiffened a little. After all, Sam had to know all about you now. His mom had to have said something to him. He had always been nice to you, but that was back then. There was a whole other side to you and your family now. Sure, Sam was nice, but he wasn’t going to be happy you were here if he knew anything.
 “Hey,” Dean greeted his brother. “How’d it go?”
 “Good,” he smiled to himself. “Place is picked out and booked. We officially have a date.”
 “Don’t leave me in suspense, Sammy. Wedding date now,” Dean chuckled, wiping down a glass.
 “September 15th,” he grinned widely, reaching his hand up to the back of his head.
 “I’ll save the date,” he nodded with a big smile. “Congratulations, little brother!”
 “Thanks, De,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
 You stood behind the bar awkwardly, not knowing if you should say something, or go do something else. You didn’t want to be in the way of him. This was his business too. You pulled your cloth back out, and decided to head back out to the floor to wipe down the tables again.  
 “Dean, what is she doing here?” you heard Sam say.
 “She’s helping us out because I asked her to,” Dean stated.
 “Dean, you know-”
 “Sam-”
 “No Dean, if mom or dad was to walk in right now, you’d be in so much shit,” he stated. That was your queue. You weren’t welcomed and you weren’t going to ruin a family business. You had no idea why you even agreed to in the first place. Mary told you that you were never going to be good enough for her family. Why did you think you’d be good enough to work at her son’s bar?
 “Sorry,” you breathed out, as you untied your apron. “I’m- I’m gonna go, Dean. I don’t want to ruin your business or your relationship with your family. You don’t have to pay me for tonight.”
 “Y/N, wait,” Dean called out as you began to walk away.
 “Dean, it’s cool,” you nodded, assuring him it was.
 “No, it’s not cool, Y/N. I invited you here tonight,” Dean declared, walking over to you. “My mom and dad don’t own this bar. Sammy and I do. I’ll tell you again. I don’t care who your mom is or was to my parents. I care about you and who you are to me. If Sammy has a problem with it, then he can stow it for tonight. You are welcome in this bar.” His hands made their way to your arms, holding you in place.
 “Dean, I’m not worth the trouble, okay?” you smiled weakly, pulling the few bills out of your pocket, handing them to him. “This is yours.”
 “No, they are yours. You earned them tonight. All tips are yours,” he stated.
 “Y/N, please stay,” Sam called out.
 “Please, sweetheart,” Dean pleaded, holding his hand out for you to take. “You’re off the clock. Just hang out with us for a little while. You said you needed to get out more.”
 “You want a drink Y/N?” Sam offered, grabbing a clean glass from beneath the counter.
 “Okay,” you nodded. “Water would be great.”
 “W-water?” Sam furrowed his brows.
 “She doesn’t drink,” Benny added in.
 “Ah, okay,” Sam nodded.
 You walked around the bar, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar. Sam placed a glass of water with a few ice cubes on the counter in front of you, giving you a soft smile. You knew he was trying to keep a smile on his face to keep you around for the night. It was forced at best.
 “So, no guy in your life right now, Y/N?” Benny questioned you. “You usually have someone-”
 “Nope, I don’t. Not right now,” you smiled at him, bringing your water up to your lips. Great, even Benny knew you got around, you thought to yourself.
 “You want someone? ‘Cause you know, I’m single and you’re-”
 “Benny, knock it off,” Dean warned him. “She doesn’t need another guy hitting on her tonight. House rules.”
 “What? ‘M I not good enough for you,” he teased playfully before serving the next customer.
 “You’re not my type,” you giggled. “My track record states that I only go for dicks. You’re a nice guy.”
 “So Y/N, I gotta ask,” Sam started, taking another stool, sitting close by. “I know you grew up with your mom-”
 “Sam,” Dean called out, his voice laced with a bit of anger.
 “It’s okay Dean,” you assured him.
 “Was it just you and your mom or was your dad ever around?” he questioned. You knew he was curious, and he didn’t seem to want to cause any harm to you. It was a simple question. Nothing you hadn’t been asked a hundred times before.
 “No. It was just me and my mom. I never knew my dad, in fact, I’ve never met him or know his name for that matter. My mom always told me he didn’t want anything to do with me and that was why he wasn’t around. He didn’t want me and that’s why it was the two of us. I have no idea who my dad is, or if he’s even alive at this point. I never knew anything about him,” you shared with him.
 “Were you ever curious?” Dean added in, stepping closer to you and Sam.
 “Yeah, of course I was. I grew up without a dad. The kids at school were terrible to me because I didn’t have one,” you began. “I mean, look at me now. I’m a mess ninety five percent of the time. I just wish my mom would’ve been straight with me. But at the same time, my mom slept around a lot. She had a new boyfriend every month. I doubt she even knew who my dad was.”
 “Do you think she was hiding it from you?” Sam brought up.
 “In some ways, yeah. I asked her when I was eighteen, before I left for college and she said there was no point. My dad was probably dead.”
 “If you ever wanted to find out more, Y/N, I’m sure I could do a little digging for you,” Sam offered you. It was a kind gesture but it wasn’t worth it.
 “I’m not worth that kind of trouble, Sam. I don’t want to cause any more issues with your family than I already have.”
 “Your mom’s issues weren’t your fault, sweetheart,” Dean reminded you.
 “Dean’s right, Y/N. What your mom did in the past has nothing to do with you. It bugs the hell out of my mom because you look like her. It’s still wrong that she treated you the way she did. You’re nothing like your mom,” Sam said with a sad smile. It was really nice to hear those words coming from Sam. Especially now that you were here. You didn’t want him to hate you like his family did.
 “Okay,” you breathed out. “I’m giving you the okay to take a look. It can’t hurt to find out my family history. And I’m curious as to what my mom hid from me all my life. But I don’t want to make any contact if we find out who it is.” In reality, it was probably good to find out in case you had a family history of cancer or something like that. It was too late now to ever have a father daughter relationship like you dreamed about when you were ten.
 “Deal. You are always welcome to change your mind later on, okay?”
 “Thank you,” you smiled softly at him. “Means a lot to me that you want to do this.”
 “Well well, look who decided to show up for work,” Dean greeted the two people as they walked in.
 “I thought you were short tonight, De?” you furrowed your brows.
 “Chuck and Cas work later so we can go home at a decent hour,” he told you. Both of them walked behind the bar, settling their stuff underneath the cash.
 “Hey,” a man with curly-ish hair greeted you. “I’m Chuck.”
 “Y/N,” you waved at him.
 “So uh, how you doin’?” he wiggled his eyebrows.
 “Chuck,” Dean warned him, shaking his head.
 “Oh shit, sorry. Is she your-”
 “No she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend,” he stated, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam. Dean was very protective over you, and you actually kind of liked that he was.
 “Oh god, that’s worse,” he breathed out sheepishly. “It was very nice to meet you, Y/N.”
 “You ready to head out, Y/N?” Dean offered with a smile.
 “God, yes please!” you beamed, hopping off your stool.
 “I’ll grab your number from Dean,” Sam nodded, giving you a wink. Dean grabbed his jacket as you circled around the bar for the last time. You couldn’t wait to go home and change into your pyjamas. You couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of your apartment so you could finally unwind for the night.
 Dean followed behind you as you lead the way to the impala. It was just after eleven when you looked at the clock in the impala as Dean started her up. It was a long night, and some parts of it sucked, but for the most part, you were glad you did it with Dean there. His friends were also nice people to be around so that certainly helped.
 “You did good tonight,” he smiled at you as he turned out of the parking lot.
 “What can I say, I’m an ex bartender,” you chuckled. “Thanks for asking me to come out tonight.”
 “You’re welcome,” he nodded.
 “If you’re up for it, you wanna hang out at my place for a bit?” you asked him. “Only if you want to.”
 “Yeah, I’d love to,” he agreed.
 It was almost eleven thirty by the time you arrived at your front door with the keys in your hand. Dean stood right behind you, keeping a close distance. You figured after that creepy guy at the bar tonight, he was keeping you close in case something was to happen. You really did enjoy how protective he was of you. He had been ever since that day the two of you made up. It was nice to have someone want to keep you safe from harms way.
 You threw your keys on the counter as soon as you walked in. Dean locked the door behind him and kicked off his shoes on the front mat. You leaped onto the couch, flopping down on your back, earning a laugh from your best friend.
 “Long night, huh?” he said as he sat down next to you.
 “Very! I love being hit on by creepy guys. It’s my favourite,” you joked, moving up to a sitting position to give him more room on the couch. Your couch was big enough for two people to sleep on, but Dean just had to sit close to you.
 “You used to enjoy guys like that,” he teased you.
 “Eh, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed them. I prefer guys with a little more respect. Not guys that grope my ass in a crowded bar while I’m working,” you breathed out. “I don’t know. Lately I haven’t been interested.”
 “In what?” he cocked his head to the side, looking over at you.
 “Dating. Men in general,” you shrugged, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Too much to focus on and I’m a mess most days.”
 “Not even sex for you?” he questioned.
 “Eh,” you smirked. “I’ve got my own ways of handling things in that department. It’s not like any of the guys I slept with before knew what they were doing. I’m just not wasting my time.”
 “Good,” he grinned. “You deserve better than that.”
 “What about you, Winchester? You’re nearly as bad as I am for taking random people home,” you pointed out.
 “Not as of recently,” he confessed, looking down at his hands. “Part of it is how busy I’ve been. No one has really caught my eye. Everyone these days are dating, and settling down. After Cassie, I don’t really want to date right now. Especially since she left things open for when she gets back.”
 “I don’t blame you,” you nodded. “Would you get back together with her if she were to show up at your door right now?”
 “Deep question there, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since we broke up. Not even an email. If she were to knock on my door, I don’t think I could just settle back in like nothing happened.”
 “That’s understandable,” you nodded. “At least you’ve moved on a little. We slept together.”
 “You’re the last person I slept with,” he admitted.
 “You’re my last too,” you nodded. “We’re doing awesome. Although, I certainly can’t complain. You were damn good. You kept up your end of the bargain beautifully.”
 “Well, technically I owe you one for tonight,” he joked with a smirk. “I know how to drive a good bargain.”
 “I’m down if you are,” you wiggled your eyebrows with a soft smile.
 “Actually?” he cocked his eyebrow.
 “What’s the harm?” you shrugged. “Not like we haven’t before.”
 “I’m definitely in if you are,” he nodded. “No pressure at all. Only if you want to.”
 “You’re too nice to me, you know that?” you smiled at him as you moved over. You threw your leg over his legs, settling down over his lap. His hands instantly reached for your waist as his eyes went wide.
 “I wouldn’t say nice,” he breathed out. “I just care ‘bout you is all.”
 “Well, thank you. I really appreciate that you care,” you smiled. “I care ‘bout you too.”
 “Alright, this is getting too chick flicky for my liking,” he stated, leaning forward. He captured your lips with his in a soft, heated kiss that had you instantly craving more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tugging yourself closer to him as your tongue slipped over his bottom lip.
 His hands reached beneath your flannel, pushing the material over your shoulders in record time. You had a feeling this was going to happen fast. It was late after all, and you both had been working since nine this morning. It was going to be a quickie at best and that was more than okay with you. A quick fix to make you both feel good and that would be enough to put you to sleep right away.
 “You’re sure about this?” Dean asked you, pulling away a little.
 “Yes, more than sure,” you breathed out, pushing his flannel over his shoulders. “No foreplay this time.”
 “Got it,” he nodded. “Just a quickie?”
 “Quickie then bed,” you smile at him.
 “Roger that,” he agreed, tugging the hem of your shirt up your body, throwing it to the floor. You did the exact same to his, tearing it off of him as quickly as you could. He bucked his hips up to yours, and you could feel the bulge of him already. The thought of having him once more sent heat pooling in your core.
 You climbed off of his lap, toying with the button on your jeans before shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Dean unbuckled his belt, making quick work of removing his jeans and boxers, pushing them down his legs. His hard cock standing proud between his legs. Fuck, was he perfect.
 “Condom?” you asked him.
 “Wallet,” he nodded, reaching down to his jeans, pulling out the leather pouch. He opened it up, taking the foil packet from his wallet. You stepped forward, straddling him as he opened the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out. You watched as he took his cock in his hand, rolling the condom down over himself. You reached behind your back, removing the final article of clothing from your body to reveal yourself to him once more.
 “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he smiled softly at you.
 “Dean,” you grinned, shaking your head.
 “You are,” he shrugged. “I like that I’m the one you went home with tonight after all the guys that hit on you.”
 “Thank you,” you half smiled. “You’re sexy as hell.”
 “Hell doesn’t sound all that sexy,” he teased you.
 “Shut up, Winchester,” you giggled. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”
 “Please,” he chuckled.
 “Then ask me nicely,” you played, wanting to test him just a little.
 “Y/N, will you please let me put my dick inside you?” he let out a laugh, not able to keep a straight face through the entire sentence, making you laugh along with him.
 “I can’t believe you actually asked,” you cackled.
 “Shut up,” he shook his head, trying not to laugh more than he already had. “The things I do for you.”
 “Hey, the way to a girl’s heart is through humor, Winchester,” you pointed out.
 “Yeah yeah,” he scoffed. “Alright, I’m going to touch you now. Make sure you’re ready for me.”
 “By all means,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His right hand came down between your legs, his middle finger brushing through your folds to see if you were ready enough for him. You knew you were more than ready to take him. The mere sight of him had you ready to go. The kissing certainly helped you get there too. He was a damn good kisser.
 “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re sure?”
 “Yes,” you nodded. “You’re sure?”
 “I am,” he agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”
 You balanced yourself on his shoulders, moving up his body to get ready. You reached one of your hands down, taking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. Your eyes met with his as you positioned the tip in place. He nodded his head, not daring to break the eye contact you held. You let yourself sync down on him, slow and steady. His eyes fluttered shut as you surrounded him in your heat.
 “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed out as he bottomed out inside you. You could feel him twitching a little as your walls grew accustomed to him. He finally opened his eyes, meeting yours as a smile played on his lips. He slipped his hands around your back, ready to help you move on him.
 “You feel amazing, De,” you told him, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his.
 You made yourself more comfortable before beginning to move on him. He repositioned himself beneath you, making it easier for you to ride him, and for him to meet you halfway. As you sank down on him, he thrusted upwards. His grip was tight on you, keeping you close to him. He felt amazing inside of you. Hell, almost better than he did the first time. From this angle, his cock brushed over all the sensitive spots, getting you there a little bit faster than you were expecting him to.
 His lips trailed on your neck, making your fingers curl in his shoulders. Your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. You brought your hand up to his hair, carding through his soft locks as you continued to bounce on him.
 “Shit Dean,” you cried out.
 “Feels so good,” he muttered, pulling away from your neck. “So close.”
 “Faster,” you urged him on.
 His hands slipped down to your ass, pulling you closer to him. He shifted quickly, your back hitting the couch as he fit between your legs. He snapped his hips against yours, picking up the pace to get you both there. One of his hands reached between your bodies, toying with your clit to heighten your pleasure.
 “Dean, Dean, Dean,” you moaned. Your grip tightened around his shoulders, desperate to grab onto something to keep you grounded. You were panting profusely. You felt the tightness growing in your abdomen. You were so damn close.
 “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Let me feel you.”
 Your walls came crashing down around him as you let out a wanton moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you threw your head back, letting the pleasure course it’s way through your body. Your fingers curled into his back, trying to hold onto something to keep you from floating away. Your vision went white and your body began to shake just enough for you to notice.
 “Atta girl,” he encouraged you as he bucked his hips into yours. You knew he was damn close to the edge. He just needed that final push.
 “Feels so good, De,” you whispered, trailing your shaky hand up into his hair. “Come for me, Dean.”
 “Shit-” he growled, picking up his pace just a little more. He gave three hard thrusts before his cock twitched. His seed filling the condom before he collapsed on top of you, letting out a breath.
 Your hand carded through his hair, playing with his soft locks as you both came down from your highs. You turned your head, looking at the time on the clock above your tv. It was just after twelve fifteen. You knew you had to get up and get ready for bed.  
 “I just realized we did that with the curtains open,” you giggled, glancing over at the big open window.
 “Well shit,” he let out a laugh. “I hope they enjoyed the show.”
 “We should get up,” you told him. “Get ready for bed.”
 “Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting himself up. He reached down, grabbing the base of his cock to remove himself with care.
 You were the first one off the couch, leaving your clothes on the floor. You headed into your bedroom, going straight to the bathroom. Dean wasn’t far behind you, throwing the used condom into the trash in your bathroom.
 “Uh, you’re welcome to stay if you want to,” you offered him. “Or you can go, whichever you want to do.”
 “Whichever you’re more comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep,” he stated, taking a step back.
 “We literally just had sex,” you reminded him. “I don’t know what would even be considered overstepping at this point.”
 “True,” he chuckled.
 “Well, if you’d like to stay, there is an extra toothbrush in my drawer and boxers in the top drawer in my bedroom,” you told him with a soft smile. “I’m going to shower to get the smell of sex and alcohol off of me. If you want to do the same, you know where the towels are.”
 “Alright,” he nodded, turning towards the shower. You watched as he turned the nozzle, setting it on hot. “You shower first and I’ll clean up out there.
 Dean was out of the bathroom, giving you a bit of privacy. You shut the door a little, giving yourself the comfort of being alone to do what you needed to do. You went to the bathroom before slipping into the shower.
 The water was the perfect temperature for you to clean yourself up. You were just going to have a quick shower to wash your body. You could wash your hair in the morning. You just wanted to feel clean. You had the feeling Dean was staying with you tonight, and you weren’t against it persay. You didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. You weren’t looking for a relationship. You hoped it was just sex for him. That you could handle with ease. You didn’t want to do the whole ‘feelings’ thing. Not with your best friend. Sleepovers were normal for friends. Two friends could have sex without it being weird. There was nothing wrong with casual sex.
 You washed your body quickly. You could feel yourself getting more and more tired the more you stood under the stream. You just wanted to get out, brush your teeth and head to bed. Nothing more.
 The water shut off and you stepped out onto the mat you had set out. You wrapped your towel around yourself, making sure it was tight. The mirror was all steamy, and you could barely see. Not that it was going to stop you from brushing your teeth.
 “Dean, you’re good,” you called out, reaching for your toothbrush. The bathroom door opened, revealing Dean in his boxers and nothing else. He was quiet as he went about, gathering what he needed to shower. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes off of him while he moved around.
 He hopped in the shower as soon as you finished brushing your teeth. The mirror was just starting to clear when you turned away, giving Dean the privacy he deserved. You noticed as soon as you were in your bedroom that Dean had thrown your clothes in the laundry hamper. His clothes were set on the chair in the corner of your room, folded nicely.
 You grabbed the first pair of panties from your drawer, and an oversized shirt to wear to bed. You could feel yourself starting to overthink this. You didn’t want anything to change between you and Dean. You didn’t see him as anything other than your best friend. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want a boyfriend or a serious relationship for that matter. You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.
 You got dressed quickly, throwing the comforter back, slipping beneath the sheets. You heard the water turn off, which meant it was only a matter of time before he was joining you in bed. You lay on your back, adjusting the covers over your chest.
 Dean emerged from the bathroom in a pair of clean boxers, shutting the light out. He circled around the bed, following the same steps. He joined you in the bed, resting on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
 “You tired?” he asked you.
 “Now that the lights are out, not really,” you chuckled. “You?”
 “No not really,” he let out a laugh. “That was fun.”
 “It was. And I’m not usually for being on top,” you admitted with a half smile.
 “Why this time?” he questioned, turning his head to look your direction.
 “I don’t know. I guess I feel a little more comfortable around you. I’m not as nervous about some things, like the way I look for example,” you confessed.
 “You’re beautiful,” he said with a laugh. “Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
 “What, like that?”
 “That. And sex in general,” he shrugged. “I’ve got what is probably not a good idea. But you said that you’re not looking to date anyone. I’m not ready to date anyone. We’re best friends and speaking from previous experiences one and two, sex is great between us. You’re comfortable with me, and I’m comfortable with you. Why don’t we continue sleeping together? You know, get each other off, try some new things?”
 “Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” you inquired, furrowing your brows.
 “Yeah I guess so,” he breathed out.
 “How is that going to work, Dean?” you turned to face him. “It literally never works. There are too many rules, and someone always gets hurt in the end.”
 “Not if we don’t let it,” he reminded you.
 “Fair point. If we’re going this, and that’s a big if, Dean. I don’t want stupid rules and shit, okay? Friends who have sex, try new things; whatever. Nothing about our friendship changes,” you declared.
 “Done deal. I can agree to those terms,” he nodded.
 “Good. I’m all for sex, but as soon as something goes sideways, of gets complicated, I’m out, okay?” you breathed out.
 “More than okay,” he smiled at you. “Now, are you going to deny me after sex cuddling?”
 “We had sex like half an hour ago,” you scoffed playfully.
 “Friends are allowed to cuddle, you know,” he reminded you. “It’s not going to hurt you.”
 “Fine,” you shook your head. “You’re big spoon though.”
 “Turn around then,” he smirked.
 You turned over, trying to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. Dean slipped his arm around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. You let yourself melt into him, feeling safe in his hold. You knew for a fact that he was going to keep the nightmares away tonight.  
 Maybe after sex cuddling wasn’t so bad after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 5 coming Tuesday!
Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!
Dean Babes
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Too Loose And You’ll Lose It
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Ch1: GI Joe And Army Barbie Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​
Intro: Following the Child Sex Trafficking job, The Losers all go their own way for a break before they are due back in Fairfax County. Stella is enjoying some quiet time with her mother.
 And Jensen.
 But, it isn’t ever quiet where he is involved.
Warnings: Bad Language words.
Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson.
A/N:  So here it is! We’ve been waiting to bring you this one for a LOOOOONG time, and we hope we don’t disappoint. We can’t wait to dive into this fic! We pick up in 2007, roughly 2 years or so before the events of the Losers Film (in our head anyway) and we can’t wait to cram it full of adventure. Please let us know what you think with a reblog and a comment.
TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Prologue
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May 2007
Stella and her mom sat in the kitchen of her childhood home in Manchester, New Hampshire. It was late morning one Friday morning, the day after she had returned home following debriefs at the CIA base in DC. It had been an emotional reunion, not having seen her mother for almost 8 months in person. They’d stayed up late with a bottle of wine before retiring to bed and after a lazy morning she had eaten a huge breakfast of pancakes, bacon and eggs, god knows how many rounds of toast and some decent coffee.
“Have you had enough to eat honey?” Her mom asked.
“Yup, honestly I’m stuffed, Ma. It feels good to be eating home cooked food for a change.” She smiled.
“Yeah, well, God only knows what you’ve been eating out there.” Julie mumbled as Stella smiled at her mom’s typical mother concern.
“So when are you due back in the office?” Julie pressed and Stella’s smile grew even wider at her mom’s name for the George Bush Centre for Intelligence in Fairfax County, the CIA HQ where The Losers would be based predominantly when they weren’t running missions.
“I have another week of leave. They gave me longer seeing as I was down there for so long. Clay and the rest only got a few days, much to Jake’s disgust, he heads back over there Monday.” Stella shook her head snorting “You know if he had his way he would be on permanent leave, drinking and watching football on TV.”
“He hasn’t changed then?” Julie grinned.
“Nope.”
“I bumped into his mom the other day at the supermarket.” Stella’s mom continued.
“Yeah? How is Janet?”
“She’s good.” Julie nodded “John has been building a new shed for the garden…or maybe it was a summer house. Either way, they were planning on having a BBQ soon when Gracie finishes school”
“Sounds good, have you seen them much at all recently?” Stella asked.
“We’ve got together a few times yes. Which reminds me….” Julie narrowed her eyes “She told me Jake has been back in the US now for 12 months. You tell him from me he’s gonna get a slap for not coming over to see me when he came back home to visit.”
Stella laughed “I’ll make sure he knows how disgusted you are in him, don’t worry.”
They sat chatting for a little while longer before Julie stood up to clear the plates, waving away Stella’s offer of help, as she always did when she was home. Stella headed into the lounge, picked up her laptop and opened up her browser, dialling into her military account. About 15 minutes later Julie walked in.
“What are you doing?”
“I got some paper work and stuff to sort, you know for the accommodation in the Condo that Clay sent me through.” Julie shook her head, “You know, Estella, I really wish you’d get a normal job-“
Stella sighed “Ma, don’t start…”
“You’re as stubborn as your father and look where that got him!”
“Wow.” Stella looked up, arching her eyebrow. “Nice. Good guilt trip.”
“You’re my little girl.” Julie’s voice grew quiet. “ I worry. And I miss you. “I know, but…this is my job. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” Stella shrugged “But now, I’m home and…I’m not on tour all the time. I’ll be back for a week once very month and, well, you still have Rey, she literally lives 10 minutes away!”
Julie rolled her eyes “For all the good that does. She only visits when she wants food or to complain about something.”
Stella seized the opportunity to divert the conversation and she snorted “Complain about what? Which fucking sports car Richard wants to buy her next. Or because he doesn’t like whatever pretentious middle name she has planned for their first born?” Before Julie could reply they both heard the back door open to the kitchen and a familiar voice called “Yo, Stevensons…” Julie looked at Stella who rolled her eyes. “Speak of the devil…”
Jensen appeared in the doorway to the lounge, grinning “Oh, we’re you talking about me gorgeous?”
“No I was, and how you’ve been home on US soil for almost a year and not paid me one visit Jacob.” Julie glared at him, folding her arms.
“Oooh the full name. Am I in trouble?” Jensen grinned.
“Yes, you damned well are JJ.” Julie said, opening her arms “Now come here…”
Grinning Jensen stepped forward to give Stella’s mum a hug, pulling back with a yelp as she slapped him round the head.
“Shit, Jules!! What the hell was that for?”
“I told you! Your mother was telling me just the other day you’ve been back to Manchester now a few times and didn’t even think of paying me a visit?”
“Sorry Jules, been busy”
Julie narrowed her eyes “Busy doing what?”
“Wow. I really am in trouble huh.” Jensen shrugged. Stella snorted and Jensen looked over at where she was concentrating on the screen of her laptop. “What you doing Stel?” Stella let out a sigh at the same time her mother did, before Julie headed back into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Jensen asked, watching Julie leave before he turned to Stella “Am I supposed to sigh now?” “I was just filling in the paper work for the condo.” She replied as Jake sat next to her “Mom still isn’t a big fan of me being in the military. Swear she still thinks I’m 10 or something.”
“Well I know for a fact you aren’t” Jensen flashed her his trademark goofy smile and Stella slapped his arm.
“Shut up JJ” “Ouch…!” Jake rubbed his arm “Stel, be gentle.” She rolled her eyes and he reached for her laptop “Ok, let me see…” he glanced at the computer “You know this thing is totally outdated?”
“It does a job, I don’t care.” “Speaking of jobs…” Jensen looked towards the kitchen door, “How about you and me…”
“Jesus Jake!” Stella looked at him as he grinned “Here, whilst my mom is home? You have issues.”
“Didn’t bother you 10 years ago…”
“Yeah, well I didn’t know any better, you’re living proof of that. And besides, I’ve grown up since then. You should try it.” “Hmmm, you know one of the perks of being Black Ops means we all get our own private digs in the Condo” he wiggled his eyebrows.
“I swear to god Jake, you’re a fucking nightmare.” Stella rubbed her temples “Why are you here?”
“Came to invite you to the Petunia’s game tomorrow. It’s been a while since we went out on a date babe.”
“A while?” Stella shook her head laughing. “Your concept of time measurement really amazes me.” Jake chuckled “So whaddya say?” he asked, giving her a goofy grin.
“Yeah why not?” Stella asked “Which girl wouldn’t dream of going to watch an under 8’s girl soccer game? Can’t believe my luck.” “Don’t be a whiny bitch!” Jake rolled his eyes “We’re meeting Pooch and his girl later in the evening for drinks.”
“Great, so now it’s turned into a double date.” She rolled her eyes.
“Why you being so grumpy Stel?” Jake frowned.
Stella sighed “Sorry Jakey…just..oh I dunno, I guess mom just pissed me off a bit that’s all. Bringing up my dad, suggesting I’m gonna go the same way he did.”
Jake pondered this for a moment before he took a deep breath. “You know she’s just worried about you that’s all.”
Stella smiled “I know…I know. Doesn’t help I can’t really tell her what I’m doing, other than running CIA tasked missions.”
“Come’ ere…” Jake threw an arm round her and she leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. “How about I help you fill that paper work out and then we can head and grab some lunch or a drink, whatever.”
“Now that’s actually quite a good idea.”
Jensen smiled and gently kissed her head. “It happens occasionally.”
Stella looked up at him “Guess it’s my lucky day then.”
“Well mine was like 10 years ago so guess I can say about time Stel.”
“Smooth…” she rolled her eyes and he shrugged, dipping his head and pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss, but before it could go any deeper another loud voice rang out from the kitchen and Stella pulled away giving a groan.
“Just what I fucking need.”
Jensen grimaced at the sound of Stella’s eldest sister as her airey tone grew louder, before the door to the lounge opened
“Aww GI Joe and Army Barbie are back in town.”  
“Fuck off Aubrey.” Stella looked up at where her sister was stood leaning in the doorframe.
“Hello to you too.” Aubrey rolled her eyes.
“S’up Rey? How’s Dick?” Jensen grinned at her. Stella nudged him, trying hard not to smirk
“You know full well his name is Rick, Jacob.” Aubrey replied with a bored tone. “You were at the wedding after all.
“Yeah…” Jensen mused “Still looks like a Dick to me.”
At that Stella snorted and he flashed her a quick wink. She loved how he always had her back against her sister and her snobby bastard husband. Aubrey merely rolled her eyes, she was well used to Jake and his quips by now.
“Yeah laugh all you want losers” and with that she left and made her way to the kitchen
“Well, she’s not wrong we are Losers.” Jake shrugged “Yeah but she doesn’t know, let’s keep it that way.” Stella sighed, before she shook her head “I don’t know how your sister is still friends with her, I mean out of choice? Really?
“Well, us Jensens are made to please.”
At that point Julie re-entered the living room “Jake are you staying for lunch or are you expected anywhere else to please today? I’m making lasagne.”
“Mom we literally ate breakfast an hour ago.” Stella looked up at her and Julie smiled.
“I know, but I’m making the pasta from fresh and have a few other things to do so it won’t be ready for a while.  You two do your…thing and let me know what you decide. Rick and Rey are staying, he’s coming later so…” “Can’t wait.” Stella deadpanned.
“Please don’t start Estella…” Julie shot her a look.
“Anyway, change of subject…how is her shit soap selling?” Jake leaned back on the sofa and Stella snorted.
“Ask her, I dare you.  I’d pay to see her face.”
“I’d do it for free if it makes you smile.”
“You two, behave if you’re staying.” Julie said sternly, pointing at them both.
“You gonna be pissed if we don’t stay?” Stella looked at her mom.
“I’ll be more pissed if you do and don’t behave.” The reply came back.
“Cross my heart Jules…” Jensen made the sign over his chest “Best behaviour. Anything for your lasagne.”
“Glad to hear it Jake.” Julie raised her eyebrow and then turned from the room.
“Looks like we’re staying then.” Stella looked at Jensen who merely grinned back.
“Sorry Stel, but you know I love verbal sparring with Rick the Prick.”
She snorted “You’re a bad man JJ” “I’m your bad man.” He winked.
Stella looked at him, cocking her head to one side trying to figure out what exactly he meant. As far as she was concerned he wasn’t after anything serious. Especially seeing he was the one that broke it off 8 years ago. Sure they’d fallen into the whole friends with benefits thing but it was no strings and all that…
She took a deep breath, cleared her throat and nodded to her laptop “So, er…forms?”
****
Two hours later they were still filling in the damned paperwork, Stella having a lot to complete…that and the fact they’d been distracted a bit by laughing and joking around, Jake showing her on Google Maps the location of a few good restaurants and bars not too far from the Condo to head to. They both looked up as Julie walked back into the lounge to tell them lunch would be ready in 20. They finished up what they were doing before walking into the Kitchen where Stella was greeted by her brother-in-law with his usual stiff hug, whereas Jake took great delight in pumping his hand up and down furiously, grinning at him.
Stella shook her head, smiling to herself as they all sat down outside in the garden, making the most of the nice weather, and began to eat. Richard was telling some boring tale from his office and Jensen was hanging off his every word, pretending to give a shit when Stella knew nothing could be further from the truth. He was merely waiting for his opportunity, which was handed to him a few minutes later by Rey who couldn’t resist getting the first shot in.
“Jake, how’s the army geek life treating you?”
“Great Rey, how’s the soap?”
Stella instantly choked on her water, and Jensen looked at her, patting her on the back as she recovered.
“Oh, it’s ok.” Rey waved a hand “I haven’t made much recently, been so busy with you know…other stuff.” “Yeah, that other stuff just keeps gettin’ in the way of…soap.” Jake shook his head.
“Are you joking with me now?” Rey narrowed her eyes.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jensen shook his head. “In fact, I’m in awe of you. I mean it literally amazes me how you can make that stuff and sell it when you hate getting your hands dirty so much.” Jake swallowed a mouth of his food and grinned at her.
Rey glared at Jake “I wear gloves, ass-wipe.”
“You really don’t get irony do you?” Stella laughed, taking a drink from her glass of water.
At that point her mother caught her eye and gave her a stern glare, her earlier warning to the two of them to behave flashed across Stella’s mind but she was struggling to care. Her and Jake ‘Tag-teaming’ Rey and Rick was a well-practised art that the two of them had fine-tuned over the years, and it was the only time Stella ever felt she could get one up on her sister.
Rey looked at her and flicked her hair behind her shoulder “You may laugh but its selling really well. I’m actually thinking of expanding into a baby range.”
“Be handy for when we get pregnant.” Rick smiled at her.
Stella pulled a face as Jake grinned “You guys have that planned too? A designer little Rick or Rey on its way?”
Aubrey smiled and looked adoringly at Rick in a way that made Stella want to barf “Yeah, we’ve been trying.”
“Code for we’ve been fucking non-stop like Rabbits.” Stella mumbled.
“Estella!” Julie said sharply as Rey glared at her.
“Just because you can’t get your own relationship sorted…” she shot
“I’m not in a relationship, as well you know.”
“You sure?” Rey stared back at her, her eyes flicking to Jensen for a second.  Stella felt herself grow red.
“Fuck off.”
“Ok that’s enough!” Julie said loudly “Can the pair of you just not stop this sniping for even one damned hour?”
Stella took a deep breath “Sorry Ma.”
Jake who had remained quiet, up until that point chipped up again, deflecting the conversation.
“Huh…” he pondered something before he pointed his fork at Rey “You know, if you’re trying to get pregnant it’s highly recommended to be in good spirits. You keep getting so angry and snippy at people, you’re gonna scare Rick’s little soldiers away. It’s a question of PH.”
Rey and Rick exchanged a glance whilst Julie looked down at her plate, coughing slightly, a smile flickering on her mouth, her admonishing clearly forgotten. Stella’s eyes moved from her mother to Jake and she mouthed ‘are you for real?’
Jensen simply grinned, shrugging, as Stella shook her head, trying not to laugh. She adored Jake when he was in full on playful mode like this. He was always full of random, stupid trivia that you could never tell whether was actual fact or simply made up for the sake of sheer, stupid comedy value and he could use it perfectly to diffuse a situation and divert attention just as he had done right now. The best bit was, that Rey and Rick were utterly oblivious to his tactic and were now looking at him, like his words were gospel.
“Where the hell did you hear that?” Rey asked.
“I read it in Nature…” Jake shrugged, taking another mouthful of his food.
“I’m impressed Jake.” Rick looked at him.
“Well, sometimes I’m more than just a pretty face Dick.” Jensen shrugged.
Rick blinked “Did he just-“
“Jules, I gotta say…” Jensen cut him off before he could finish, flashing Julie his best smile “This lasagne as always is delicious.”
*****
“Damned Stel…” Jakey mumbled to himself as she heads to car. Taking in her tight jeans that show off her ass and legs, her khaki green silk chami top which hung loosely off her frame, exposing her collar bone and her light grey jacket, set off with a pair of stylish Oakley Holbrooks with matte black frames and red iridium lenses. Her hair was pulled into a side braid which hung down her right shoulder and when she smiled at him he shifted slightly in his seat.
“You look nice.” He recovered himself enough to smile as she climbed into the car.
“Thanks JJ.” She turned to him, taking in his dark jeans and grey and blue button down. “No Petunias T-shirt?”
“Well I figured seeing as we’re going out afterwards I should make a bit of an effort.” He grinned, pushing his glasses back up his nose. Stella arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“See your dad got a new car…” she mused, taking in the interior of the silver chevvy blazer before she grinned “Pity he got rid of the ford…”
Jensen smirked “Yeah, we had…good times on that back seat.”
Stella smiled and looked out of the window, before she turned back to Jake as he drove off up the road. “So who are they playing today?” she asked
“A team called the Oaks.” He said “I was checking their scores the other day, they lost their last 5 games so...” Stella smiled “You get far too invested in this you know?”
Jensen shrugged. “What can I say, I like soccer.”
Their conversation continued on the 10 minute or so drive to the Petunia’s home pitch, and eventually strayed to Jensen’s sister Jane before it moved onto their lunch yesterday and how Julie had given Stella a ticking off once Jake had left.
“You know Rey has been googling that PH bull shit don’t you?” Stella looked at Jensen as he drove towards the soccer pitches “And she’s realised it’s just that. Bull shit.” Jensen shrugged “I don’t care, she was being a bitch to you.”
“Well thankfully she left about an hour after you did yesterday so I didn’t have to put up with her for much longer.” Stella shrugged “Still, was long enough for her to keep talking about fucking soap.”
Jensen grinned “I think I touched a nerve?”
“No shit.” Stella grumbled “You know what she said? After all that about how well it was selling and them expanding the range, she told ma she only made $500 last month!”
Jensen laughed as he swung the car into a spot by the side of the road. “Yeah, that’s…not great.”
“I did point out that maybe the reason people don’t buy whatever shit she sells because they freak out at the ridiculously ostentatious name of the company.
“The Bath To Righteousness” Jensen grinned as they both climbed out. “Yeah it is pretty pretentious. Stuff like that needs an angle you know? These companies selling homemade, organic shit are ten a penny. It needs to be a catchy name, something punchy.”
“What would you call it?” Stella looked at him, slipping her arm through his as they headed over to the pitch The Petunias were playing on.
“I’ve got Soap, Bitches.” He nodded firmly. Stella burst into laughter. “Or Lick My Soap.” Jensen continued reeling off stupid names as they approached the side lines. “Soap In Your Hole…Hit Me with Your Best Soap…Slippery when Wet… Don’t Buy Soap, Won’t Be Soap”
Stella was laughing that hard she was struggling to breathe. Jensen grinned as her nose crinkled up and she let go of his arm, doubling over, clutching her stomach. “Don’t buy soap, won’t be soap?” she managed to stutter, wiping her eyes “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“It’s from an ancient Tibetan philosophy- don’t start none, won’t be none.”
“You’re so full of crap.” She snorted, shaking her head.
“Maybe I should eat one of those soap bars then?”
Stella began to laugh again and at that point Jake’s sister Jane appeared from wherever she had been and looked at the pair of them over her shades. “What the hell’s got into you?” she looked at Stella, a smile playing on her face.
“Hey Jane, What’s soap, I mean up.” Jensen quipped and Stella let out another loud howl of laughter. Jake looked at her, laughing a little before Jane shook her head
“I just can’t with you two…” Jane grinned and gave Stella a hug. “Good to see you Stel.”
“You too Jane. You look well.” She said, stepping back to take the blonde woman in fully. “Where’s Gracie?” “Oh they’re over there with their coach.” Jane said, waving her hand in the direction of the pitch “She’s been asking about you all day. Ever since Jake said you were coming she’s been so excited.”
“I can’t wait to see her either, it’s been like a year!”
“Oh she’s grown up a lot. You’ll see.” Jane smiled.
“Hear that JJ- grown up.” Stella looked at him. “Seems even your niece can manage it.”
“Says the girl that almost pissed herself laughing at the phrase slippery when wet.” Jensen eyed her over his shades and she shrugged.
“I daren’t even ask…” Jane looked at them both and Jensen simply waved her comment away.
“Oh we were just trying to think of ways to help Rey boost her soap sales.” He shrugged.
“Do I really wanna know?” Jane asked, “Mind you, she’ll probably chew my ear off about it all later.”
It wasn’t long before the teams head out to the pitch and the three of them took their seats on the small stand as they kicked off.
“I’d kill for a beer.” Stella mumbled about 5 minutes later.
“Well, I nearly bought some but thought better not. I got caught last time and fined- broke a by law apparently.” Jensen said, his eyes not leaving the game “Jane went bezerk. She’s kinda scary when she gets mad. Like you.”
Stella smiled and turned back to the game for a little while, until the Petunias made a break for goal, only to have the girl who was running through felled down by one of the Oak’s defenders.
“Oh look at that!” Jensen yelled, jumping up “Foul ref…are you blind?”
“Jake sit down.” Jane hissed, looking up at him from where she sat to Stella’s right.
“I’d say this is embarrassing but I’m used to it.” Stella shook her head.
“I swear to god behave or I’ll ban you for life.” Jane threatened him again as he continued to yell down to the pitch.
“Can you sit down please?” A voice came from behind them and Stella looked at the woman who was speaking “You’re blocking my view”
“For fucks sake…” Stella grumbled, reaching up with her left hand and yanking on his shirt “Jakey, sit!”
With a grumble he did as he was told and leaned across Stella to look at Jane “You soccer mums are a nightmare.” Jane glared at him, Stella remained focussing on the game, trying not to laugh. When Jensen moved to sit back she looked at Jane and mouthed “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jane shook her head “He’s far worse when you’re not around.”
“God help you.”
“Yeah there was this one time he was that bad Gracie stopped talking to him for an entire weekend. Poor Kid hadn’t been so embarrassed in her life.” Jane mumbled. Jensen turned to look to his right at Stella and his sister, frowning.
“What are you two whispering about?”
“You.” Stella looked at him “Now shut up and behave.”
“No need to be so aggressive babe.” He arched an eyebrow but obeyed anyway.
“Stella, can I hire you for like ALL the games?” Jane asked, nodding to the fact Jensen was, for once, doing as he was told.
Stella snorted, shaking her head as she turned back to the match.
As it was only a kid’s game, they only played 20 minutes either half. The first one closed at 0-0 and after a quick 5 minutes break they swapped ends and kicked off the second half. About 5 minutes in the Petunias broke and this time thanks to a great pass through from Gracie they scored. Naturally Jake cheering loudest. The rest of the half was uneventful and the game ended at 1-0. As everyone began to move, the three of them headed down to the side lines, Gracie trotting towards them.
“Stella!” she grinned, throwing herself at the woman. Stella grabbed her in a hug, swinging her round slightly.
“OMG look at you! You got taller!” she smiled, ruffling her hair.
Gracie grinned “I know. But it has been a while since I saw you.” She admonished Stella a little.
“Really?” Stella grinned “Doesn’t seem that long.”
“Did you see my goal assist?” Gracie asked and Stella nodded.
“Of course I saw it honey, you were great!”
“Alright, alight, favourite uncle right here.” Jensen said, gesturing to himself.
“You’re my only uncle, duh.” Gracie rolled her eyes.
“Well guess that makes me your favourite by default then.” Jensen shrugged.
Stella pat his shoulder gently. “You were brilliant JJ.”
At that Gracie gave a snigger.
They chatted for a little while longer before Jake said they needed to leave to meet Pooch and ‘future Mrs. Pooch’. Gracie wasn’t impressed at Stella going so soon and there was a brewing tantrum until Stella assured her it wouldn’t be too long before she saw her again. In all honesty, Jensen could have spent the rest of the evening watching his niece and Stella interact. He had to concede Stel had a way with children which contrasted with the focused military Captain persona who was now part of an elite black-ops team . Mind you, Gracie had known Stella her entire life. Granted, Gracie had spent more time with Aubrey, being as she was one of her mother's best friends, than with Stel and yet it wasn't hard to tell Stel was one of Gracie's favourite people in the world. 
So after a vague promise to take Gracie out for an ice cream during the week she still had left of her leave, Stella managed to avert the tantrum and they said goodbye and headed back to the car. 
When they got to Tandy's, almost half an hour later, Pooch and his fiancé were already at the bar waiting for them.  Pooch stood up as he spotted them approaching and he pulled Stella into a hug before greeting and patting Jensen's back and introducing Stella to his wife-to-be, Jolene. They grabbed a drink and sat down, the 4 of them chatting for a little while. Pooch and Jolene told Stella all about their wedding plans, which sounded like a beautiful ceremony planned for the following year in Mexico. 
Stella was asking the reason for their wedding ceremony being in Mexico when they finished their first round. Jensen, noticing their glasses were empty, stood up to go get another round, he had already had his share of Pooch's wedding plans for the past year, and Jolene excused herself to go to the bathroom soon after, leaving Stella and Pooch alone. 
"So you enjoying the chance to be at home for a few weeks Arty?" Pooch asked her.
"It’s great being with my mom but she’s already driving me crazy, telling me I need to leave the army and get a good, normal job. She’d have a fit if she knew I was part of this Elite Black ops shit."
Pooch chuckled "Well, it’s not all undercover life or death situations. You know, Jensen ended up doing 2 months at HQ working on some online terrorist cell last year. Cougar has run a few sniping jobs too. I ran a couple of training ops with some troops in Canada."
"Yeah. Clay mentioned I might get a few normal jobs…" Stella nodded, as she fiddled with the coaster on the table.
"So it’s good to be reasonably close to home, you know? Well, I say reasonably close…still like a 7 and a half hour drive. Hurrah for Military Discount on airfare…or you can go via New York and take a night there.” Pooch shrugged “Me and Jensen done that a few times. Although keeping tabs on him in Times Square can be a pain in the ass…"
"Yeah I can imagine." she laughed.
"So, what’s your dad think about your career choice?" Pooch asked then.
"No idea, he died when I was 10." Stella shrugged.
"Shit, sorry." Pooch apologised, eyes wide open at the realisation of his gaffe.
Stella gave him a comforting smile. "It's ok. You didn't know."
"No siblings?" Pooch inquired and Stella could feel his wariness as he asked another personal question.
"One." she smiled again. "Sister, she’s…” Stella hesitated, trying to thing of the most diplomatic way to phrase what she wanted to say. “Well, she’s very different to me. Her husband is a Finance Director for Lockheed Martin and earns a ridiculous amount of money so she doesn’t work. Well, unless you count running an online Etsy shop selling home-made soaps. She’s friends with JJ’s sister although fuck knows how Jane puts up with her."
"I could ask you the same thing about Jensen." Pooch joked, nodding at Jensen at the bar and Stella smiled again. 
By then Pooch had noticed Arty smiled a lot. She had a warm smile that made him feel comfortable around her. That and the fact she wasn't shy to talk about her life with him. He liked her and thus he was curious about what the real nature of her relationship with Jensen was.
"So you know his family as well then?" he asked.
"Yeah I’ve known them all since I was 11." she offered.
"That’s nice." Pooch nodded.
"What is?"
"You guys being so close since you were kids." he said, smiling.
Stella smiled at him again but it was now a mischievous smile "He told you how we met?"
Pooch shook his head "No."
"It was first week of middle school. I was walking to class and my bag split. He came over to help me pick up my stuff, smacked his head straight into mine as he stood up."  she stopped to let Pooch laugh it up.
"He banged his head?” Pooch snorted “Yeah that…that sounds like Captain Chaos alright…”
Stella shook her head as she gave Pooch a nudge, stretching her arm over the table. "Don’t laugh, he was cute. A dork but cute. And he was a friend. My dad had only been dead 6 months or so and we had moved back home from Kentucky to be nearer our grandparents so I didn’t really know anyone. But, he came straight over when everyone else was laughing at me and he deliberately placed himself so no one would see me crying." At that Pooch saw Stella glancing over at Jensen, smiling softly. "Been hanging out ever since."
"So when did you two…you know…cross the line so to speak."
"He asked me out on my 17th birthday. I’d liked him for years but didn’t think he thought of me in that way. We dated through senior year and then we both went off to Norwich University for the ROTC." She explained.
"Oh, so you didn’t direct enter either then?"
"No. I talked to Clay about it and he suggested I do the ROTC so I could get a college education as well. I suggested it to Jakey and we both went for it."
"So, excuse my prying but why you two beak up? Seems like you were together for pretty much the most important decisions of your lives?"
Stella hesitated before answering. Although she didn't mind talking to Pooch it was the first time she explained her and Jensen's story to anyone. She hadn’t needed to up to that point, seeing as everyone she had met till then didn't know Jake too, bar their respective families and friends and they already knew what the deal between them was. Sort of.
For the first time Pooch felt like she wasn't that willing to answer. "Well, after the ROTC thing we both got our first overseas postings and, well, he suggested that maybe it was better if we called it quits before the distance tore us apart and we resented one another. I agreed. We stayed friends though."
"Friends with benefits, huh?"
"Yeah, you could say that." she snorted.
Pooch looked at her. He sensed it was better not to pry more on the subject so he decided to change topics.
"So, you know Clay of old then?" he asked, remembering Clay had warned them she was like a daughter to him.
"Yeah he was in the Army with my dad. My dad was a major in the Screaming Eagles, you heard of them?"
Pooch nodded "The 101st airborne division, right?"
Stella nodded too. "Clay was first lieutenant in his command. He was killed when they launched the operation to cut off Highway 8. One of only 16 to die. Clay took it hard, he was literally right by dad when he died. A foot to the right and he’d have taken the bullet not dad, and he felt guilty for ages for not spotting the sniper but…either way one of them ended up dead. I mean, dad was only 45 when he died and Clay would have been…what, 28 or so at the time, maybe? Either way it’ no age, total waste of a life."
"You know, Clay never really talks about his past much but he did tell us once that seeing his friend die at the hand of an insurgent was what spurred him into the Special Ops. He wanted to get involved in tracking down terrorists, making places safer. Never knew who he was talking about though." Pooch offered.
"Well now you do." she shrugged "I expect it's painful for him to talk about. We’ve all been there, lost people …it’s hard."
"So that's why you joined as well? Your dad?" Pooch asked.
"Yeah. Much to Mom’s disgust. She called Clay, thought he would talk me out of it. I think his words to my mum were, and I quote “ I don’t stand a chance Jules, you know she looks up to Ian’s memory like he’s Captain America….”." 
Pooch laughed out loud and Stella grinned. "Yeah she’s still not best pleased with him. And when I got stationed over in Iraq, well, I thought she was gonna hunt him down and kill him with her bare hands."
"You clearly made the right career choice though, I mean you made Captain pretty fast." Pooch stated with real admiration. “Just like Jensen did.”
"A lot of that was down to doing the ROTC and circumstance. Right place, right time…you know what it’s like in the field. They need commissioned, senior officers in Delta Force, I dare say female ones specifically to ‘fil the quota’ so to speak. I did my job well and…" she shrugged.
"From what I hear you’re selling yourself short. Clay speaks very highly of you. He was raving about this person on the inside for the entire time we were running that last op."
Stella smiled, after the conversation with her mother the day before and having to put up with her sister and brother in law's perfect life all over the weekend, Clay's words were like a balm to her. 
"Good to know I’m doing something right."
Pooch was pondering Stella's words when Jensen returned from the bar with a couple of beer bottles and two deep orange coloured cocktails.
"Sorry guys, they had a new bartender who wasn't very sure about the best way to prepare a Sailor's Grave." He shrugged “So, this is for Pooch, this is for Mrs. Pooch and this one is for my girl…" he said, placing the drinks ceremoniously on the table, flashing a wink at Stella when he said the last part.
Pooch raised an eyebrow at Stella. The boundaries in Jensen and Stella's relationship, whatever that was, were clearly a little blurred.
Stella rolled her eyes before speaking "I’m not your girl Jake, not since you dumped me when you went over to Burkina Faso." She flinched a little as that came out slightly harsher than she meant and Jensen noticed.
 "Ouch doll. Bitter much?" he frowned.
Stella took a deep breath but didn’t say anything. Worst thing she could do was encourage him, whether it was in favour or against, his attempts of flirting. Thankfully, at that moment Jolene returned to the booth.
"Sorry I took so long, I got a call from the office." She apologised as she sat at her place next to Pooch.
Stella seized the chance to divert the conversation and get Jake out of her mind and sight for a minute and she smiled at Jolene and asked “So what do you do for a living?”
"Oh I’m a paralegal for a local firm in Concord." Jolene explained before taking a sip from her cocktail.
Soon both women were engaged in a lively conversation as Stella continued to ask her questions, happy to keep her mind occupied and off all thoughts of Jake and the little tension earlier. Eventually, however, last orders were called and the 4 agreed it was time to go.
“Jolene seemed nice.” Stella broke the silence that had fallen in the car. “They make a nice couple.”
"Yeah, Pooch is a good guy and she’s a nice gal so…" Jensen agreed, hands on the wheel.
They both fell silent again, Jake concentrating on the road ahead. He was anxious and hoped Stella hadn't noticed, though they had never been so silent in a car drive. Something had been bugging him since that night in the barracks after the mission. The sex had been amazing, it always had been, but whereas they normally left it at that but now… well, being around their hometown, the place they had grown up and first started dated, going out and just doing things they used to do was sparking all sorts of feelings within him. Just an hour before, calling her his girl had just slipped out, and he’d realised from her reaction as soon as he’d done it that he shouldn’t have.
He chewed the inside of his cheek as he drove, trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing breaking it off 5 years ago. But he was also cursing himself at the same time, because being around her yesterday and today, in a normal environment, he realised that just as he’d told her that night after the mission he missed her. And not just the sex. But her. The difference being now, as he pulled onto her road, he realised he didn’t just miss her because he hadn’t seen her. He missed her being his. 
 His. That was his last thought as he parked up at her driveway.
"Thanks Jakey, I had fun today." Stella said, looking at him for the first time since they got in the car.
"Me too, Stel." Jensen said as he nodded.
And there was a silent pause as Stella digested the fact he wasn't even looking at her. His eyes were fixed on some point beyond the windshield.
"Ok, erm.." Stella spoke but paused to clear her throat. "Well, have a safe trip over to Base and I guess I’ll see you in a week."
He still didn't say anything, he only nodded in agreement. His eyes still not on her. So she opened the door, ignoring the lump on her throat, and made to leave when she felt him gently grabbing her arm.
"Stel…"
She stopped and looked at him. He was now looking at her, almost pleadingly, as he reached out, gently gripping her chin in his finger and thumb, his eyes bouncing across hers.
"Jake, I don’t think we..." she whispered but her protests died as he pressed his lips to her.  It was a furious and needy kiss, his tongue harshly dominating hers, and when he pulled away he pressed his head to hers.
"See you in a week, doll." he said, his eyes boring into hers.
"Yeah, see you." she whispered, before getting out of the car
She looked back once to wave as he was waiting to make sure she got inside, as he always did. Once in she shut the front door and headed to the kitchen. Just as she turned around and took the first step her mom walked out of the living room.
"Not in a relationship, eh?" 
"Were you spying on me?" Stella asked. Best defence is offense after all…
Her mother shrugged, a smile threatening to spread on her face. She liked Jake, she had always liked him and what was more, though she would rather be caught dead than admit to it, she liked him more than she would ever like Rick in a million years. But then, what was more important to a mother than their daughters' happiness?
 Stella sighed. "It's complicated."
"Sure it is. Night honey.” her mother said and, after placing a kiss on her head, she left her to it.
Stella said goodnight and headed into the kitchen for a bottle of water.  She uncapped it and leaned on the counter. It had taken her a while to get to a point where she could simply fuck Jake and leave it at that, but even then deep down she knew she had been kidding herself, fooling herself. He had been right in the bar before, she was bitter. Bitter that he had given up so easily when she thought they had something special. And she’d been that much of a sucker that she’d gone along with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement because the thought of not being with him at all had made her feel sick. 
During the last 12 months they had drifted apart and even though she’d hated it at first and it had killed her, it had done her the world of good in that she had finally worked him out of her system.
Or so she thought she had.
Because here she was, less than 2 weeks of being back in his presence and she was already slipping back down that deep, dark hole. After that night post the mission they hadn’t been together that way, at all, but then the previous day he’d shown up and today he had taken her out, for what had been a really fun afternoon and evening, and it had felt just like old times. 
Especially when he had kissed her like that. 
Jensen was the king of giving off mixed signals, he always had been. Hell, it had taken her years to figure out he liked her that way. But they weren’t in high school anymore, and it was easy, far too easy to get swept back into something that meant more to her than it did to him. She knew she had to put a stop to it, because someone was going to get hurt. And that someone was likely to be her.
Lost in her thoughts she drained the bottle and tossed it into the recycling bin before running her hand through her hair sighing to herself. 
“I’m fucked.” 
**** Chapter 2
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firewoodfigs · 3 years
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a smorgasbord of unbidden thoughts / highlights (long post ahead!): 
we’re slowly creeping out of the lockdown, and we’re allowed to go out for meals now! I got to meet a friend for dinner on Monday and he treated me to some amazing Italian fare as a belated birthday gift :’) I was really craving Italian after watching Luca and I haven’t had good pasta in a long while, so that was really nice. I also met a friend for dinner today after work, and we’re just glad to have made it to Friday tbh lmao. it was nice catching up again after so long and talking about everything under the sun (in this case, under the moon). I love spending time alone and having time myself, but I can’t deny that I’ve also missed interacting with other sentient life forms lmao. 
I managed to re-schedule my vaccine slots, and I'm getting my first shot tomorrow! fingers crossed it won’t be too bad (I still wanna be able to type through the soreness 😩). I'm a little nervous tbh because I absolutely detest needles, but I feel like at this point I just don’t care anymore LMAO. it also helps that my bf and I got the same vaccination slot, so I guess I'll just make a ruckus and be a nuisance if things go south. jk 
next week’s my last full week of work before my two-month break begins! I'm really excited to finally get a breather from work (although to be fair I've only been working for like... 6 months lmao rip) before things get real hectic in September haha. I'm definitely not looking forward to the added responsibilities, and i’m honestly not sure how to feel about getting called to the bar because everyday is just a flurry of shit, am I really cut out for this and help, work is dulling my * sparkle * and yo, you think I can just move somewhere west and be a country singer? but oh well. too late I guess. I'm too deep in debt to get out now LMAO. jk 
on the bright side, though, I received news today that I’ve been designated to my preferred area of practice for my next seat :) and i'm pretty excited about that! I've honestly been feeling pretty desiccated about the law ever since starting practice because it’s so different from whatever I've studied and something that college couldn’t have possibly prepared me for lmao (many thoughts but I don’t want to turn this into an essay so I will simply project my feelings onto my favourite war criminals)
it’s been a struggle to create lately, for various reasons. these days it feels like anything I make is woefully inadequate and subpar and mediocre, and i’m just. constantly torn between striking everything out altogether and desperately wanting to be better, to feel better. I felt a little burnt out after royai week because  I was rushing to complete so many projects and ideas on time (I do tend to get a little overambitious and overzealous that way, haha), and so I tried to take a break, but I couldn’t properly rest, either, because these days I only feel alive when I'm... creating. LOL. it's like an unresolvable paradox where I slog to feel alive and then feel like death, and then feel like I'm wasting away and wasting time when I'm being unproductive and fruitless. idk, man. it’s probably the productivity guilt acting up or something. it doesn’t help that my mind is an unholy mix of anxiety and imposter syndrome and perfectionism, either, or that inspiration only strikes me at the ungodliest of hours. I find that it’s easier to write when I've cleared everything else on my plate, but sometimes it’ll be midnight by the time I've done that because there’s just so much to do. I end up writing at two in the morning and/or recording snippets of a putative song while half-asleep (the result is usually pretty dang awful, because I have no idea what I was saying when I listen to it the next day lmao).
I also find it to difficult to alternate between so many forms of writing. my job mostly consists of reading and writing (mostly boring and terribly dreary stuff, because lawyers have apparently never heard of punctuation or one-liners, and I am 100% proving this right now with my streams of consciousness), and my hobbies primarily include that, too. I've also been struggling to switch between writing prose/fic and poems and songs because i tend to focus on different things. (I also have the attention span of a goldfish. or a confused rat.) like, I focus a lot more on how things flow for the first, how things look for the second, and how things sound for the third, if that makes sense? but I also literally cannot focus on one thing at a time so everything is just a half-written mess and a smattering of my illegible scrawls tbh 😞 I'm hoping that I'll have more time to sit down and properly sort these out one at a time during my break hahaha. 
that being said, I read something this week about the four stages of learning a new skill LOL iirc it goes (1) unconscious incompetence (2) conscious incompetence (3) conscious competence (4) unconscious incompetence? I find that I'm stuck at (2) atm for a lot of things, which is probably why it’s so hard to go forth and do the damn thing without descending into a spiral of self-doubt haha. the truth is I rely on external reassurances and validation a great deal to tide me through, because my mind is just so used to criticising myself for everything and being my own harshest critic that it’s become a challenge to objectively assess my own work. it’s probably a defence mechanism to feeling like failure is not an option and/or my upbringing or something, and it’s how I’ve coped with a lot of things, but I'm also coming to realise that it’s not always the healthiest way to live haha. 
BUT, you know. at the end of the day it’s a hobby and it’s supposed to be fun and joy-inducing and. it’s so easy to ruin all of that in the process of pursuing perfection so. I think i’ll just work on attempting the damn thing and worrying about it afterwards 🤠 (and also being less exacting on myself haha) 
ending things on a lighter and brighter note - I received a lovely surprise from a friend this week!! I ordered some earrings from her (the stuff she makes is the stuff of DREAMS) and she tossed in a necklace for me and it’s just. it’s beautiful. it’s handmade. it’s astounding. I'm weeping. 
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clarenecessities · 2 years
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1/21/2021
Cried at work today :/ wish I could say it was bc I was sad about leaving but it was bc I asked for more time since I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish my reports & HR said no. And told me to let it go
So I was. Pretty upset about that. Felt like I was throwing my apprentice to the wolves, and nobody was listening when I told them they can’t treat her like this. Vicki was supposed to call us again but never did. She’s busy or something. Great. She didn’t listen to me the last three times I told her this was unreasonable & I doubt she’s even read my report.
HR isn’t wrong to tell me I can’t but she was very tactless about it imo. given she once thought I was making fun of a name bc I commented on its etymology I think it’s safe to say she just doesn’t understand me or my motivations whatsoever but. Surely one can at least sympathize with this? You don’t have to agree with me here but like trying to consider that there might be an emotional angle to address just feels… not patronizing, but that way that moms get sometimes when they think you’re being stupid about something and eventually you’ll Mature and get better (their) opinions. Dismissive, I guess. Like there’s no point in trying to understand beyond your own First Blush.
I talked to my friends about it & they were way fuckin better at it man. I know it’s sort of a given since they DO understand me & my motivations but they were able to break it down in a way that made sense instead of just saying “no” and sending an Elsa gif.
And I was being unreasonable! That’s the thing! I keep taking all of this stuff on & never complaining or setting boundaries & it got to the point where literally no one else could do what I do. I made myself indispensable, just like my mom always says I should, and now they’ve dispensed with me anyway. It helps that it wasn’t because of me—it does. But even without that cloud of rejection hovering over me, there’s this sense of urgency and guilt because did I just set Sabrina up to fail? I really like her, she doesn’t deserve to… be treated like I’ve been treated :/
But that’s what my friends were saying. Like. It isn’t her fault if she can’t live up to my precedent, and it isn’t my fault that I was given insufficient time to do my job. I asked for more, I was denied, that’s not my fault. Both today & back in April. And these instances feel more personal, more like rejection, but it doesn’t reflect on me, because I’ve always done my best. I’ve always been honest about what I can or can’t handle, even if I should have drawn lines on what I SHOULD handle. The company wants to save money? Well, good luck.
I should apologize to Sabrina though. Can’t have been comfortable watching me break out in tears. And she should know, at least intellectually, that it isn’t our responsibility.
Bluuugh. One more day.
Who the fuck ends contracts on a Monday
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huenjin · 3 years
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(A bit of venting ahead)
Hi - I'm a baby stay and I'm currently suffering from a dilemma, or rather a situation, and I'm wondering if you could give me some advice because I really have no one else to turn to - I've been a silent follower of your works and you seem great :). I actually got into stray kids about two months ago and got really excited about all of it, but now I'm just completely drained. Everything about an actively promoting kpop group (I've only been a third gen fan before) is completely overwhelming - the fanbase is overwhelming because it's so big and everyone's doing everything so there's like ten thousand things to catch up on at the same time, the comebacks are overwhelming because I'm pressured to watch or listen to them the moment they come out, otherwise I don't know what people are talking about, the variety shows and even bubble is so overwhelming because the members talk about their recent activities (which is understandable, of course). For some reason the internet, my original refuge, had caught up on my new obsession and is just bombarding me with literally fucking everything and the more I look at it the sicker I get and the more I run, except I have nowhere to run because what I'm running from is what I'm running to.
This ask is literally so long and I'm so sorry for making it seem like a rant when everyone else is celebrating Hyunjin's return with his new release. But even with that release I had to force myself to watch it and I guilt tripped myself even more because I'm just not that excited about Hyunjin (I'm so sorry). Anyways, Rue, if you're still reading thank you. I hope this isn't too depressing for you.
(PS: Please don't feel pressured to answer if you don't want to. Feel free to delete this if you want - I just wanted to get it out of my system. Yeah :')
okay, so like to a large extent i do understand what you are going through. it must be super overwhelming to be hit with everything. i might sound like a slight hypocrite here but i don't care — prioritise yourself. you don't have to catch up with everything. literally. i'm multifandom and i decided to sit out of sf9's promotion this time because it's too much for me and it's alright with me. i'll probably be more detached from monday because i'll be physically caught up with everything.
and that's okay. we have a life of our own to run and this should only be an entertainment source. the minute it starts stressing you, that's when you realise there's something wrong in the equation. don't force yourself to watch it if you don't want to. i haven't watched skz-x fanmeeting yet !!! there is a looot of content and it's borderline impossible to catch up with everything after like a certain age because you really do have your own life to sort and manage.
i did slightly pull back because i started following tbz too and i don't have thaaaat much time too. so now i don't catch up with skz bubble like at all. i get updated when i see it casually on my tumblr dash and that's about it. i don't watch lives because i don't have the time.
you should probably try minimising the number of blogs and content you follow on the same btw, so that you don't have a shit ton to catch up on. this helped me a lot while stanning nct. i now only occasionally watch nct dream content when i have the time and that's about it and minimising the nct blogs i follow helped me with this.
or you should do what i do most of the times? live the content through gifs. i watch some kdramas like that because sometimes i just don't want to spend 1h on it. in the end, sweets, i just hope you can really take control of your situation. i do think that's something you're struggling with — just like i am. you really don't have to celebrate anyone besides yourself <3
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