#texas tipsy tours

[easy2hate]

listen i’m a bi awsten truther but like why in the fuck is he waiting till NOW, YEARSSS in to start soft launching that shit like w h a t

w h y

it’s not like his entire following isn’t gay wtf is he afraid of idk i can’t stand that man

nothing about it really mentioned in his book(just finished it) but the whole thing is very much like a collection of individual anecdotes/stories it’s not a narrative so even though he shared… too much. it does not deter my bi truthing at all like he just didn’t mention an interest in guys… but he also never said he was straight

anyway different fandom sorry(in a ranty mood tn) i CANNOT stop thinking about that nye livestream of ryan seaman and josh katz - obligatory time to say TRUST ME, i KNOW about ryan seaman everything i am just a mere mortal being controlled by a horny goblin creature that thinks he’s still soooo (physically and ig situationally?/just him being a touring drummer) hotttttt - anyway at one point ryan randomly kisses josh when they’re both just like drunkenly jamming together and then they tease the audience and chit chat a bit before like fully making out eventually. like. for forreal. this drives me insane. also in the chitchat bit josh says “everyone knows you’re a little bit gay” hnghhhhh fuckkkkkk that’s followed up by ryan saying “if i’m a little gay then what are you??” and (openly pan) josh just says “dude. i’m like. a lot gay.”

fuck my stupid baka life all i can think about is ryan seaman messing around with guys late at night and tipsy during tours. as a gay transmasc nothing in this world is better than just guys hanging out being BOYS and doing BOY things all stupid and then randomly they start making out sloppy style but they’re both still just like BOYS, are friends in the way boys are friends. ryan seaman is so boy i can’t help it. is there anybody out there?

- spiral anon🌀

i think like def a part of him not starting to be more comfortable in his sexuality does kinda stem from growing up christian in texas 😭 and like its internalized shit, thats why he did the little short film thing before soulsucker, its kind of maybe sorta his way of “”coming out””, at least from a shell

and i dont go here enough to talk about ryan seaman but yeaaa u go oomf 🗣️

[texasobserver]

“The Texas Observer’s 2023 Must-Read Lone Star Books” by Senior Editor Lise Olsen, with help from Susan Post of Austin's Bookwoman:

Despite a disturbing rise in book bans, Texas is, against all odds, becoming more and more of a literary hub with authors winning accolades, indie bookstores popping up from Galveston Island to El Paso, and ban-busting librarians and other book-lovers throwing festivals. So as you ponder gifts this holiday season or consider what to read by the fire or by the pool (who can say in December?), pick some Lone Star lit. 

Here’s a list of #MustRead 2023 books by Texans or about Texas compiled by the Observer staff with help from Susan Post of Austin’s independent Bookwoman. (Several talented Texans also made best book lists in Slate magazine, The New Yorker, and NPR’s Books We Love.)

NONFICTION

We Were Once a Family: A Story of Love, Death, and Child Removal in America by Dallas journalist Roxanna Asgarian (Farrar, Straus & Giroux) is a dramatic takedown of the Texas foster care and family court system. It’s both a compelling narrative and an investigative tour de force.

The People’s Hospital: Hope and Peril in American Medicine (Simon & Schuster) by Ricardo Nuila, a Houston physician and author, is an eye-opening and surprisingly optimistic read. Nuila delves deeply into what’s wrong with modern medicine by painting rich portraits of the patients he’s treated (and befriended) while working at Harris County’s Ben Taub Hospital, which offers free or low-cost—yet high-quality—care against all odds. Each of them had been forced into impossible positions and suffered additional trauma from obstacles and gaps in insurance, corporate medicine, and Big Pharma.

Waco: David Koresh, the Branch Davidians and a Legacy of Rage (Simon & Schuster) by Fort Worth journalist Jeff Guinn is one of two books that mark the 30th anniversary of the standoff between the Branch Davidians and federal agents that ended with 86 deaths. (The other is Waco Rising by Kevin Cook.) Both authors recount how the 1993 tragedy shaped other extremist leaders in America—and still influences separatist movements today.

Quantum Criminals: Ramblers, Wild Gamblers and Other Sole Survivors from the Songs of Steely Dan (University of Texas Press) by Alex Pappademas and Joan LeMay has been described as the quintessential Steely Dan book. As part of the project, LeMay, a native Houstonian, created 109 whimsical portraits of characters that sprang from the musicians’ lyrics and legends. In a review, fellow artist Melissa Messer wrote: “Looking at Joan’s oeuvre makes me feel tipsy, or like I’ve drunk Wonka’s Fizzy Lifting Drink and I’m swimming through the air after her, searching for the same vision.”

Memoir

Black Cameleon: Memory, Womanhood and Myth(Macmillan) by Debra D.E.E.P. Mouton, the former Houston poet Laureate, shares lyrical memories of her own life mixed with ample asides on Black culture and family lore. Her storylines sink deeply into a dream world, and yet readers emerge without forgetting her deeper messages.

Leg: The Story of a Limb and a Boy Who Grew from It (Abrams Books) by Greg Marshall of Austin has been described as “a hilarious and poignant memoir grappling with family, disability, and coming of age in two closets—as a gay man and as a man living with cerebral palsy.” NPR’s Scott Simon, who interviewed Marshall, described the memoir as “intimate, and I mean that in all ways—insightful and often laugh-out-loud funny.”

Up Home: One Girl’s Journey (Penguin Random House) by Ruth J. Simmonsis a powerful memoir from the Grapeland native who became the president of Brown University and thus, the first Black president of an Ivy League institution. Simmons begins by sharing stories about her parents, who were sharecroppers, and about her life as one of 12 children growing up in a tiny Texas town during the Jim Crow era. For her, the classroom became “a place of brilliant light unlike any our homes afforded.” (Simmons’s other academic credentials include being the former president of Smith College; president of Prairie View A&M University, Texas’s oldest HBCU; and the former vice provost of Princeton.)

Novels and Short Stories

An Autobiography of Skin(Penguin Random House) by Lakiesha Carr weaves together three powerful narratives all featuring Black women from Texas. Carr, a journalist originally from East Texas, plumbs the depths of each character’s struggles, sharing tales of gambling, lost love, abuse, and the power of women to overcome. 

Holler, Child (Penguin Random House), a new short story collection from Latoya Watkins, was long-listed for the National Book Award. Her eleven tales press “at the bruises of guilt, love, and circumstance,” as the cover description promises, and introduce West Texas-inspired characters irrevocably shaped by place.

The Nursery (Pantheon Books) by Szilvia Molnar—a surprisingly honest, anatomically accurate (and unsettling) novel about new motherhood—begins: “I used to be a translator and now I am a milk bar.” It’s a riveting and original debut by Molnar, who is originally from Budapest, was raised in Sweden, and now lives in Austin.

Two legendary Austin writers weighed in with new novels on our tall stack of Texas goodreads: The Madstone (Little, Brown and Company) by Elizabeth Crook, the 2023 Texas Writer Award winner, and Mr. Texas, a fictional send-up of Texas politics by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Lawrence Wright. 

Poetry

Bookwoman’s Susan Post, who contributed titles to our list, also recommends filling your holiday shelves with poetry by and about Texans:

Dream Apartment (Copper Canyon Press) by Lisa Olstein; 

Low (Gray Wolf Press) by Nick Flynn; 

Freedom House by KB Brookins (published by Dallas’ Deep Vellum Bookstore & Publishing Co.) 

Essays

Pastures of the Empty Page: Fellow Writers on the Life and Legacy of Larry McMurtry (University of Texas Press) edited by George Getchow, contains essays from a who’s who list of Texas writers about Larry McMurtry’s influence on Texas culture and their lives. It includes an array of reflections on history and the writing process as well as anecdotes about McMurtry’s off-beat and innovative life. 

To Name the Bigger Lie (Simon & Schuster) by Sarah Viren, an ex-Texan who now teaches creative writing at Arizona State University, (excerpted in Lithub) includes reflections on Viren’s experiences (and misadventures) as an “out” academic and writer in states like Florida, Texas, and Arizona. As she dryly notes, “Critiques of the personal essay, and by extension memoir, are often gendered—not to mention classist and racist and homophobic.” 

Can you help us survive, and thrive into our 70th year during this challenging time for the journalism industry?

Right now, all donations to the Texas Observer will be matched. Donate now!

[jules-has-notes]

2013 VoicePlay spring tour roundup

VoicePlay's spring 2013 tour was shorter than their previous fall tour – just five weeks – and mostly stuck to the southeastern part of the country, but that didn't stop them from packing in the fun. They made up the concert postponed by Hurricane Sandy, visited family and friends along the way, and documented a lot of their downtime on social media. Some of the guys were particularly excited about a new short-form video platform called Vine.

Showtimes:

They started close to home with a student workshop and a concert in Lake City, FL.

Geoff and Eli got up early to chat with the local access morning show folks in Cullman, AL and promote their concert that evening.

Some venues have extensive backstage areas with unexpected benefits.

Some… not so much.

No matter what, though, there's always some waiting involved.

Which can be alleviated by creating your own silliness, or fended off by middle schooler screams (headphone warning).

.

On the road:

The boys left a sticker on the giant sparkplug at the South of the Border tourist attraction in South Carolina, as is traditional.

Long drives might get tedious after a few weeks, but the scenery can be very pretty.

The aromas aren't always so nice, though, especially with six guys (and occasionally a dog) in the van. So if you've ever wondered what the VoicePlay fellas smell like, apparently sometimes it's "vanilla and moonlight".

The theater kids of a cappella enjoy a bit of dress-up wherever they can find it, even if that's in the toy department during a supply run on their day off.

Tony's adorable terrier Fletcher went along for the middle leg of the tour to El Paso.

The cuteness didn't stop the guys from getting goofy during the long stretches of driving or late night shopping excursions, though.

No trip through Texas is complete without a stop at a Buc-ee's for provisions. (Which prompted Eli to give a shoutout to former 4:2:Five member Matthew "Bucky" Buckner who's been making cameos recently.)

The boys popped home for a few days just in time to see Rachel Potter in concert (with friend and future VoicePlay collaborator EJ Cardona). Layne and his then-girlfriend got a little tipsy and silly.

Fewer shows on the tour might have been easier on their vocal cords, but it also meant more long stretches in the van between gigs. At least it had a video game setup.

.

Feeding the beasts:

○ Earl doing restaurants' eating challenges continued to be A Thing.

Earl hot wing challenge (Layne's YouTube) The "blazin' challenge" at Buffalo Wild Wings (a dozen spicy wings in under 6 minutes) was no problem, even playing injured. He was awarded a t-shirt and the onlookers' respect.

(Eli's Vine) He polished off another 32-ounce steak at a Texas Roadhouse.

(Eli's Vine) A tex-mex plate and beer-rita on Cinco de Mayo was easy peasy. (Followed by much silliness from everyone.)

(VoicePlay's Twitter) He was only defeated by the 72-ounce steak at The Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo. He gave it a solid try, though.

○ This one's more of a not-eating-everything-at-once challenge, but when your percussionist's little sister is a professional baker, you've gotta visit and stock up for the road while you're in town.

○ Lunchtime ambience is important, no matter where you are.

○ It's good to acknowledge the fans, no matter how famous you get.

○ And sometimes you just need to share your thoughts with the world, no matter how banal. (That's what social media is for, after all.)

[smallpuppy]

He said I was beautiful.

We spent the entire day together. Then my friend took me to a house he will be inheriting one day from his grandmother, but he had full access. It's a 5min drive away from the house I will be moving into someday, so we will be neighbors in the future, something I eagerly look forward to. He's going on a sort of "farewell tour" with all those he considers a close friend since he is moving to Texas later this month for a stepping stone in his career (with plans to move back ASAP), and I felt oddly honored that he thought of me as such. I mean, I guess chatting on discord voice while playing video games on the Switch Online service for 9 hours at a time must count for something friendship-wise, and him always choosing to carpool with me must have been another clue. I was never good at making friends growing up, so it just hits me by surprise every time.

We made banana bread together as he wanted a recipe from each of his friends. He wrote down the recipe and each step he had to take and was so proud of the list he was building. There was some alcohol in the fridge that one of his other friends left, and since he doesn't drink I took it instead.

He asked me what it was like to feel drunk or tipsy, and I said that the feeling of drunkenness in the mind makes one feel bolder to say the things they normally wouldn't, maybe due to societal or social pressure. "That's why a lot of people suddenly get racist while drunk," I laughed.

We chatted more as we waited for the bread to bake.

Then the conversation came about age and how he thought of the friend group I'm part of as his older family and I reminded him that I was 35, a whole ten years older than he was. He was flabbergasted.

"Ten years? You act like...like my age!!"

"You act more like my age," I scoffed back.

"But your energy, the way you just are, I don't see you the same as everyone else. Like you got it together but at the same time you're just so vibrant."

I beamed, yeah. If no one can pinpoint my age then I must be doing something right with my skincare routine.

But then I saw a look in his eyes appear, a specific look. A look I've seen in men before but I chose to ignore it. Maybe my one can of alcohol was impairing me.

-----

The next day we carpooled together to hang out with the group downtown. When I drove him back home to his parent's place he suggested we sit in the car and just chat together in front of the house, something I hadn't done with anyone in a long time and I welcomed it.

There it was again, that look. He leaned back in the seat and placed his arms above his head.

We got on the conversation of dating, and how he's trying to date this one person he met through another mutual group but it's hard for him to figure out what to say as he has only gone on one date with her, his first date ever, and he wants to take her on another. He also asked about how my husband and I met and how lucky he is to be with me.

"Why would you say he's lucky?"

He stared me straight in the eyes.

"Legit, any guy in the group would be crawling for the chance to be with you. Even...Just the way you are, you're...you're beautiful."

Ah, that look has words attached with it now.

We chatted for two more hours.

-----

My husband still isn't ready for me to date anyone else yet, not that I have inquired about anyone in specific as I haven't fallen for anyone. Only four other people know I'm polyamorous, though one is still trying to get the concept wrapped around his head. This friend isn't one of them and I know for sure he wouldn't be down to be in such a situation, and I respect that. But in another timeline, another series of events, maybe I wouldn't have minded being the older woman in a relationship as his eyes said more than just those two words ever could.

[texastipsytours]

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[texastipsytoursposts]

Texas Tipsy Tours is a luxury transportation service specializing in Texas Hill Country tours to Central Texas wineries, breweries, and distilleries. We service Austin and the Texas Hill Country. Here at Texas wine Tours, we love to celebrate and are committed to providing a curated experience for you!

[featherymalignancy]

PART TWO — The Eyes of Texas: A Rowaelin Origin Story 🏐 🍺 ♥️ 

  Long before Cash and Nesta, there was Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant from the United States Navy—takes a break from studying of the police academy exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

This takes place in the same AU-verse as my Nessian story In Vino Veritas, about four years before. 

This a two-shot, you can find  PART I here.

The Eyes of Texas, PART TWO

By midnight, Rowan knew he was in deep shit.

They’d migrated to another bar by that time, Aelin practically in his lap as they traded stories about college and their friends. Rowan found himself caught between despair and delight as he listened to Aelin speak, unsure if he should be reveling in the attention from a woman of her caliber, or fretting that it couldn’t last.

It wasn’t just that Aelin was beautiful, though he was admittedly so mesmerized by those blue eyes and that dazzling smile that he had to actively avoid staring.

She was funny, too.

And not “when a sexy woman makes a joke you feel oddly compelled to laugh” type of funny, either.

She was fucking hilarious.

She’d had him in stitches earlier with a story about getting the business-end of her grandmother’s chancla after she’d gone to Easter mass with blue teeth from her candy basket, and he’d hardly stopped laughing since.

Rowan had always been a somewhat serious person—even more so after Lyria’s death—but Aelin made him feel...younger. Lighter. And he might have felt guilty for that, except he’d had the oddest sensation throughout the evening that Lyria was there, laughing alongside him.

And—as if gorgeous and hysterical weren’t enough—Aelin was also incredibly bright. Despite the rigors of her volleyball schedule, she was a neuroscience and psychology double major, with plans to attend medical school and become a psychiatrist when she graduated.

It was an answer that Rowan hadn’t expected when he’d asked what she was studying, but somehow it suited her. The ambition, the focus—it explained in part why she was such an incredible athlete. Rowan knew better than anyone that it took more that height and muscles to be a success in the sport, and even among the juggernauts who’d completed in the tournament, Aelin had been in a class of her own.

She’d grown oddly bashful when he’d pressed her about her volleyball career, at which point she admitted she’d held off med school applications to accept a place on the AVP tour.

“They’ve offered you a spot?” Rowan’d asked.

Aelin’s cheeks had gone slightly pink.

“They called after the tournament,” she’d said. “A scout was there to watch me play.”

“Aelin, that’s incredible.”

At this Aelin’s smile had relaxed into something sensuous that had made Rowan’s stomach tighten.

“Couldn’t have done it without, guapo. ”

Now as Ro sat twirling the tail of Aelin’s braid around a tattooed finger, he tried to remind himself that he needed to shut all these bright and shiny feelings down. Aelin had been a danger to the comfortable numbness Rowan had been living in since the moment she stepped onto the sand of that volleyball court. Now, having heard her laugh and flirt and speak Spanish, she’d become lethal.

He told himself that if he was smart, he’d kiss her cheek right now and tell her goodnight. It would probably take him several days to extract her from pleasant place she’d settled under his skin, but he could stop the bleeding now. If he was smart, he most definitely would not sleep with her.

But apparently he wasn’t smart, because when she’d slyly tugged him to his feet and coaxed him into one of the private closets marked “For Staff Only”, he didn’t stop her.

He also didn’t stop her when she kissed him, tongue sliding effortlessly into his mouth and she hands tracked under his shirt.

It was a bad idea to want Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius the way Ro did, but he found as her hands continued their exploration that he didn’t care. Even if he could only have her for one night, he would make it enough.

“Your body is insane,” Aelin breathed, tracing the ridges of his abs in a way that made him shudder.

He couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk which tugged at his mouth as he kissed her again.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

At this Aelin paused to laugh, eyes sparkling with wicked delight.

“Was that a big dick comment?” She said. “I knew you had it in you, Whitethorn.”

Rowan debated going for the obvious joke about having ‘it’ in her soon before quickly deciding against it. He was tipsy; it didn’t mean he had to be a jackass, too.

“Let’s go, you little troublemaker,” Ro said, reaching for the door which led from the closet to the secluded hallway.

Aelin’s answering grin was staggering in its seductive force. She casually leaned against the door, blocking his exit as she pulled him towards her by the beltloops.

“Why, are you afraid of getting caught?”

He grabbed the hand that was attempting to slip into his pants, pinning it over her head and bowing into her so she could feel how hard he already was.

“No. But the kind of sex I want, you can’t give me here.”

This seemed to stun her into aroused silence, and he reveled in the victory of rendering Aelin Galathynius speechless. However, she recovered quickly, leaning in to nip his lip.

“Fair warning: I’m not easily impressed.”

Her wrists still caught in his grip, he bent to whisper in her ear, grinding a little against her as he did so.

“So you say, but I’m going to guess you’ve only ever been with boys, Aelin. You may not realize it, but I don’t think you have any idea how good sex can actually be.”

Her legs went slightly weak at that, and he slid his knee between her thighs to keep her upright.

“And you’re going to show me?” She asked.

All the things he wanted to do to her flashed in his mind, and Rowan had to fend off a groan as he hardened further. Much more of this and they would end up doing it in this closet.

“I am,” he replied simply.

Aelin’s answering laugh was husky.

“How are you the same guy who didn’t have the cojones to ask for my number this afternoon?”

He recognized the gesture for what it was: an attempt to gain back the upper hand in their continued tug-of-war for dominance.

Turned on by her bravura, he let her, adding with a shrug, “I guess I’m more of a ‘lady in the streets’ type.”

Still, unwilling to cede to her completely he shifted his thigh where it was still nestled between her legs. She moaned a little, moving against him almost involuntarily to get the friction she needed.

Despite the desire for privacy enough to make Aelin scream herself hoarse, Ro found the idea of her rubbing one out on him too hot to resist. Rotating his knee, he pushed up until she was practically riding his thigh.

Aelin’s nails dug into his forearm as the seam of her shorts hit the exact right spot. He increased the pressure, and she moaned again, the sound growing more fractured as he snapped open one her overall straps and squeezed her firm breast over the lace. God, her tits were perfect.

“Stop or I’m going to come,” she said, teeth gritted.

Rowan didn’t bother to fend off a self-satisfied smile.

“You’re this easy to set off, Galathynius?” He laughed softly. “God, the things I’m gonna fucking to do to you.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to bang here.”

“We aren’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have an orgasm.”

“You seriously want my first one with you to be while I’m fully clothed?”

He glanced up to meet her overcome blue eyes.

“I just want to show you how many different ways I have to make you scream, Aelin.”

Taking a fistful of the denim jumper, he tugged up roughly until the fabric was splitting her. Even though all her clothes he could see what a gorgeous little pussy she had. The realization he’d soon be inside of her made Ro’s cock ache.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, hips canting forward as he used the back-and-forth friction to drag her closer to release. “This is not how I imagined things going when I brought you in here.”

Rowan kissed her neck.

“Better or worse?”

“Better,” she said. “So much better. Mierda .”

Her body tightened then relaxed slightly against him, and were he inside of her, he knew she’d be clenching around him right now.

“You have a gorgeous come face,” he told her honestly.

“I bet you do, too.”

He couldn’t fight a grin.

“Would you like to find out?”

“Yes please. ”

He pressed forward to kiss her again, their tongues tangling as he breathed, “let’s get out of here.”

Needing no further prompting, Aelin reached behind her to twist open the door before slipping out, Rowan behind her.

Taking his hand, she tugged him towards the exit, her phone already out with a map pulled up.

“Where are we headed?” He asked. “I might be able to help.”

Aelin’s answering smile was cryptic.

“It’s not far. The app is saying a 17-minute walk. Hang on.”

With this she dialed  a number before bringing the phone to her ear. Whoever she was calling—one of her cousins, Ro suspected—picked up on the second ring, and she began giving orders in rapid Spanish. After a minute she hung up, flashing Ro a simpering smile as she batted her lashes.

“Shall we?”

Rowan couldn’t fight a laugh.

“Did you just kick your cousins out of the room?”

“Suite,” she said with a growing smirk. “But who’s counting?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “We could have made it work.”

Her gaze heated, burning hot enough that Ro felt his cock stirring again. He watched as her fingers nimbly went to one of the long braids hanging over her shoulder, deftly undoing the plait.

“We don’t need an audience for all the filthy things I want you to do to me.”

He groaned.

“You’re killing me.”

She smiled, working the other braid free and giving her curtain of blonde hair a shake. Christ, he wanted to run his hands though it, then bunch in it his hands while he fucked that pretty little mouth.

She smirked as if she knew what he was thinking, even biting her lip a little in suggestion.

“Something wrong?” She said.

He only laughed.

“Completely the opposite.”

She smiled, tugging him down the street for ten blocks or so before making a left and heading towards a glittering glass building.

The Ritz Carlton.

Rowan let out a low whistle as they entered the marble lobby.

“You keeping secrets, Galathynius?”

She bit her lip.

“My dad is...not poor.”

“Define ‘not poor’.”

“He owns twenty-three luxury hotels in Miami?”

Rowan’s throat felt a bit scratchy.

“You’re a millionaire.”

Her grin was sheepish and slightly guilty.

“Kinda?”

He must have looked confused.

“I mean, yeah, with a b.”

Holy shit, her family were billionaires.

She studied him for a moment when he stopped walking, trying to take it all in. He wasn’t usually one to be embarrassed about money or his upbringing, but she was stupid rich. He suddenly felt out of his depth.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” she said quietly. “It makes people see me differently.”

At this he glanced up, reading the sadness and loneliness in her eyes.

“It doesn’t change anything,” he found himself saying.

Dating a girl that rich, especially as a cop in Vice Squad—that could be complicated. But that’s not what this was; after tonight, Ro would likely never see her again. Besides, she’d made an effort not to make it a big deal, and hadn’t thrown money around to impress him even when she easily could have. If she could set it aside for the evening, so could he.

Also, he really wanted to fuck her. She was a girl begging for pleasure, and he wanted to be able to show her things she hadn’t experienced even in her wildest fantasies.

Aelin seemed to read the acceptance in his eyes because she tugged him towards the elevator, punching 36 before pushing him against the wall to kiss him.  Sliding his hands down her thighs, he hoisted her easily into his arm, crushing her against him.

When the door opened he didn’t bother putting her down, simply breathed against her mouth, “where?”

She gestured to the left and he headed towards the single door at the end of the hall. Producing a key from her back pocket, she slid to her feet before unlocking the door and ushering him inside.

Ro told himself not to gawk as they stepped farther into the palatial space, but it was impossible.

The lavishly-appointed suite was furnished with a living room, full kitchen, bedroom, and formal dining area, floor-to-ceiling window along the far wall looking out onto the Pacific Ocean.

There was a bottle of expensive Cuban rum and several glasses sitting on the marble island, half-smoked Monte Cristo cigars resting in a nearby tray. The Ashryvvers, it seemed, were no strangers to the finer things in life.

“Do you want a drink?” Aelin asked, trailing a hand down his back and observing him as he took in their surroundings.

He turned to her to say yes, but when he caught sight of the heat in her gaze he changed him mind.

“Later,” he said, walking her backwards into the wall closest to the bedroom.

“Thank god,” she said as he threaded a hand through hers to pull her arm above her head. “I don’t think I could bear to wait.”

Rowan chuckled, teeth grazing her ear as he said, “Does that mean you’re going to be a good girl and do as I say?”

Her blue eyes snapped to him, blazing with defiance.

“What makes you think I’m that type of girl?”

“In your everyday life, you like to be in control?”

“Yes.”

Rowan nodded.

“That’s why.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You’re used to responsibility and keeping all the plates spinning, but I bet deep down, you fantasize about being able to let go; you just don’t know how.”

She scoffed, through the sound turned to a breathy exhale as he kissed her neck.

“And what makes you think that I’ll be able to let go with you, a total stranger?”

He pulled back, kissing her softly on the lips.

“Because I am going to make you feel so good and so safe, you won’t have a choice. Do you trust me, Aelin?”

“I have no real reason to,” she hedged. “We just met.”

“But...” he said onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

She paused, muscles in her neck gorgeously taut as he tugged her earlobe with his teeth.

“Díos ayúdame,” she choked out. “Yes, I do.”

“Good girl,” he praised. “Let’s get you naked.”

Throwing the overall strap he’d previously unbuckled over her shoulder, he unsnapped the other. He knelt as he coaxed the whole garment down her hips, pausing to lave her tattoo.  He resisted the urge to venture between her legs, enjoying the way she bucked her hips towards the heat of his mouth as it pressed against her low belly.

“Patience,” he said, nipping the sensitive skin.

She settled slightly at that, and Ro ran his hands up her torso with with deliberate slowness, palms skating effortlessly under her lacy bralette and tugging it off in a single, fluid gesture.

He glanced down at her and groaned.

“Fucking Christ.”

Her breasts were flawlessly round and dark enough to suggest she spend a decent amount of time tanning topless, her tight nipples framed by matching diamond studs. He ran a finger over the jewelry, laughing at her shudder of pleasure.

“Are you crazy, Galathynius? You’re a D1 athlete!”

She chuckled.

“I tape them up to play. Why, you don’t like?”

He glanced up to meet her gaze.

“I didn’t say that.”

The truth was they suited her: elegant femininity edged in wildness.

“You approve then.”

He reached down to tease her, brushing a knuckle against her left nipple until it pebbled.

“They’re gorgeous.”

Aelin preened a bit at that.

“Tits this nice deserved a little something extra,” she said with a smirk.

Rowan was inclined to agree.

“These real diamonds, princess?”

“They were a gift from Aedion.”

At this Rowan stiffened, unable to smother the discomfort the idea inspired. Aelin only laughed, catching his face in her hands and kissing him lightly on the lips.

“I’m playing with you, tonto. Obviously he and Galen don’t know about these or they’d hit the roof. Besides,” she said, pert nose wrinkling slightly. “We don’t share things like that with each other. We’re close but...not that close.”

Rowan couldn’t hold back a relieved laugh, which only made Aelin’s grin widen.

“You should have seen the look on your face, though.”

“You’re trouble,” he told her.

“You love it,” she shot back, leaning in so her breasts brushed his chest.

Yeah he fucking did.

Crushing her into another kiss, her massaged her breasts, palms scraping her nipples. When they’d grown hard from his machinations he bent to taste them, loving the feel of her fingers as they wound into his hair and tugged.

“Take off your clothes already,” she said, breathless. “I want to know if your dick is as big as it feels.”

He grabbed her wrist and guided it between his legs.

“See for yourself.”

Deft as a snake, she had a hand down the front of boxer briefs, stroking him twice with a firm grip.

He planted a hand on the wall beside her head, breathing through his nose as he bowed into her wicked touch.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked as she unbuckled his belt and pushed his chinos off his carved waist until they hung low on his hips.

“You.”

“What about me?”

He bent to kiss her deeply again. God, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this turned on.

“About what you’d look like on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”

She gave a sensuous chuckle.

“Dream on, querido. ”

He only grinned in response.

“No one likes a liar, Galathynius.”

“What reason would I have to ever suck you off?”

“The same reason you’d let me tie you up: you want to know what it’s like to let someone else be in control.”

“I never said I wanted to be tied up,” she said, voice turning to a groan as he pushed her underwear aside to dip two fingers inside of her.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, holding up his fingers so they glistened in the moonlight pouring in from the open balcony doors. “You’re soaked.”

She didn’t respond, merely leaned forward to licked the offending digits clean in a way that told him that not only did she want to suck his dick, she was going to be excellent at it.

He hardened at the thought, even as he forced a calming breath. If this was his only chance with her, he intended to savor every second.

He wanted tears— actual tears—of pleasure from her. He wanted to hear her beg. And not just some breathy “ please, more ” bullshit, either. He wanted to her to plead—for him, for release, for anything and everything he was willing to give her.

He wanted all of it and more, but to have it, he needed to be patient with her. It meant going slow, and sending her off the edge several times before he ever slipped inside of her.

Gently collaring her throat, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before easing her off the wall and into the waiting bedroom.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her.

She smirked, eyes flashing.

“Bet you say that to all the girls you fuck.”

“I’ve never fucked a woman as beautiful as you.”

It was out before he could stop it, and he had to fend off the the twinge of guilt it produced. Still, he couldn’t regret saying it, because it was true; Aelin was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

Aelin, seeming abashed by this declaration, responding by coaxing Rowan’s buttoned shirt open and over his shoulders. Chest to bare chest, her next kiss was soft and drugging.

“You’re...not ugly, either,” she said at last.

“Not ugly?” He repeated with a laugh.

“You’re...” she trailed off as he kissed her neck.

“I’m...?”

“Gorgeous,” she said finally. “But I think you already knew that.”

“Maybe, but it hits different from you.”

Aelin seemed pleased by that, and she rewarded him by dipping her hand into his unbuckled pants again and fisting him.

“I was also right; you’re enormous.”

Grabbing her wrist, he pinned it to the wall and put his hand between her legs instead.

“And I bet you’re tight,” he said, drawing lazy circles with his thumb that had her back arching.

“Are we going to fit?” She teased, but he could hear the concern underneath that she couldn’t quite hide.

The idea that some douchebag had pushed into her before she was totally ready—it made Rowan’s skin prickle in irritation.

He caught her jaw.

“After I’m done playing with you, Aelin, you’re going to be so wet that you’ll feel like my cock was made to fit inside you.”

She moaned.

“If you’re half as good as sex as you are dirty talk, I think this might be the best night of my life.”

Rowan was counting on it. What he hadn’t counted on was the fact it was shaping up to be one of the best nights of his as well. And not just because of the sex, though Rowan couldn’t deal with that right now.

“I bet you taste good too,” he said, grinding against her and living for her answering moan. “Don’t you?”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” she said, and he tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy at the thought of another guy’s mouth on her.

Her pussy was his, at least for tonight. He intended to make sure she never forgot how it felt to have him between her thighs.

Kneeling at her feet, he peeled her thong down her lean legs. He let his eyes drag up slowly, taking his time admiring the muscles in her quads before his gaze settled between her legs.

She was already wet, her thighs glistening with arousal. He imagined what they would look like dripping with his come instead. The idea had masculine satisfaction thrumming through him, even knowing it was a fantasy he couldn’t indulge. He wouldn’t put her in a vulnerable position by not wearing a condom.  Pressing a mockingly chaste kiss on her low belly, he rose to his feet.

“Get on the bed,” he said, guiding her hips towards the waiting mattress.

“Get naked first,” she countered, tracing the band of his Adonis belt before tugging him towards her by the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

He didn’t stop her as she skated her hands down the back to squeeze his ass before pushing them off his hips.

His dick was already rock hard, and it pressed between them. She leaned up to kiss him again before sinking down to sit on the bed. The movement bought her eye-level with his erection, and gripping him in a fist, she put her mouth on him.

He swore as she laved his length, cock twitching as she traced a ridge of vein with her  tongue. Threading a gentle hand into her hair, he took a step back, coaxing her off the bed and onto her knees. When she looked up at him, blue eyes overcome with want, he had to fight the urge to come right then.

Despite her earlier declarations, Aelin sucked him off like both of their lives depended on it, and Rowan could only hang on and enjoy the ride as her tongue worked miracles on his shaft and her hands found every pleasure point he craved.

He swore again as she massaged his stones before kneading the sensitive swath of skin behind them. As her touch grew more deliberate, he debated telling her she could push inside him before deciding it wasn’t exactly fodder for a one-night stand.

However, when her fingers trailed back to brush the tight ring of muscle, he couldn’t fight a groan.

“Yes?” She asked, keeping her touch light.

“Go ahead,” he said, breathless.

He didn’t think he’d never been so close to losing it as he was the moment she used her own wetness to coat her fingers before carefully teasing two inside of him.

His tattooed hand tightened in her hair, but he forced himself to otherwise remain still, to let her set the pace.

“Fuck, Aelin.”

Crooking her fingers to hit that perfect internal spot, she put her mouth on him again. Between her fingers and her tongue, he only lasted ten more strokes before he came hard .

Holy shit.

Rowan was no stranger to anything they’d just done, but he was fairly sure that was the best blowjob he’d ever had.

“As good as your imagined?” Aelin said with a smirk.

“Better,” Rowan said. “Way better. My turn.”

Picking her up, he tossed her on the bed before grabbing her ankle and dragging her towards him so her legs hung off the edge.

Wasting no time, he broke her legs apart and put his mouth right where he knew she needed him, sucking hard. However, he didn’t stay there for long, ignoring her attempts to manuever his mouth into position as he teased her.

“Rowan,” she choked. “You’re killing me.”

In answer he swirled his tongue around her bundle of nerves before alighting elsewhere.

“Rowan,” Aelin said.

He sucked on her this time, loving how she rocked her hips up to fuck his face. Still, he didn’t linger long enough for her release to find her.

“I’m going to kill—“

He glanced up at her, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the crease of her hip as she watched him.

“Beg me, Aelin,” he told her. “Beg me and I’ll give you an orgasm to make you cry.”

He laced her once, and she bucked.

“I don’t beg,” she said, even as he felt her contract once against his tongue.

The idea was turning her on.

“You haven’t begged before,” he corrected. “It doesn’t mean you won’t for me.”

At this he slid a finger inside of her, finding the right spot and applying pressure.

“Oh god,” she breathed. “More.”

Rowan pulled the finger out in response.

Aelin paused, heaving slightly as she considered before breathing, “Please, Ro.”

“Please what?”

“Please, give me what I want. I’m...begging you.”

Rowan slid two fingers inside of her, grinning.

“Really, this is your begging? Pathetic.”

“Harder.”

“Harder?”

He increased his speed, knowing she was right on the edge of where she needed to be. Still, he didn’t cross that line.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, voice almost a whine. “Rowan, I’m right there—just make me come.”

“If I do, will you beg me for my cock next?”

“I will give you anything you want,” she said. “Just...” she exhaled again. “Please.”

He bowed his head between her legs again, pumping his fingers as he tongued the spot he knew would set her off.

Driven the brink by all his edging, her climax seemed to shudder through her, muscles in her stomach flexing as she contracted against his mouth. He was careful to keep his touch feather-light as the orgasm crested and ebbed, knowing her body was too sensitive to be properly played with yet.

“Oh god,” she breathed, body still trembling slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that strong before. What did you do to me, Whitethorn?”

He crawled up to meet her, hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her head before he kissed her.

“Showed you what you’ve been missing, apparently.”

She arched her hips up to meet his, the contact making him harden again.

“Aelin,” he breathed, using both palms to scrape her sweaty hair from her face.

“Kiss me,” she said softly, gaze so sincere he had to close his eyes to avoid being overcome.

He did as she asked, keeping his touch gentle in an effort to to convey what he couldn’t bear to voice out loud: that this was more than just meaningless sex.

“I want you inside of me,” she said.

He rotated his hips against hers, cock brushing against her in a way that made her cry out softly.

“I need to grab a condom,” he said into her ear. “Don’t move.”

“And what if I do?”

He bent to kiss her deeply.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Rowan smiled, rising from the bed to grab a condom from his wallet before crossing to the window. He deftly unknotted the silk tie which had been used to hold back the curtains and holding it up for her to see.

Aelin expelled a noise of pleasure so finely edged it was almost a whine. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her arms above her head in invitation, eyes hooded as she watched him approach.

Sliding over her, he slipped the length of silk around her wrists before synching it to the  headboard.

Aelin tugged I’m experimentation.

“Too tight?”

“No,” she said.

Rowan gently collared her throat as he bent to kiss her.

“Good girl.”

Rowan drew a finger down Aelin’s torso, circling her tight nipples before tracing her navel and venturing between her legs.

“I’m going to have to make this count,” he said, sliding two fingers into her again even as he held up the condom. “I only have one of these.”

“I have some in my suitcase,” she said. “Lucky for you, I think they’re magnums. Dream big, and all that.”

He grinned, making her laugh.

“Never hurts to be prepared,” she said.

“No it most certainly doesn’t,” he agreed, putting his mouth on her again.

She bucked off the bed and he used his hands to keep her hips pinned as she twisted against her restraints.

“If only I had a spreader bar,” he told her. “I would really have you at my mercy.”

“I’m at your mercy now,” she said. “Take me.”

That, Rowan could not resist.

Quickening the pace of his fingers, he concentrated on her clit until she shattered again. Only when she’d settled back on to the bed, legs quaking slightly, did he tear open the wrapper of the condom, sheathing himself with a practiced hand.

“You’re probably going to be extra tight from the orgasms,” he told her. “So I’m going to go slow at first.”

She nodded, and he kissed her again before grabbing his shaft and sliding a few inches into her.

“Tight” had perhaps been an understatement. The pressure of her was mind-numbing, spine-tingling bliss. Still, he forced himself to pause and take in her expression.

Her brows were synched, breath ragged. He bent to kiss the tightened corners of her eyes before brushing his lips to hers.

“Talk to me, gorgeous,” he breathed. “How are you doing?”

“You’re—big,” she said, voice still tense. “I’m just trying to adjust.”

“Relax,” he coached, petting a hand down the tense muscles in her stomach. “Breathe, Aelin.”

At this she let out a shuddering exhale, even mewing a little as he reached down to play with her.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, working her with the pad of his thumb. “Let me in.”

With that the some of the tenseness in her body loosened, and she moaned. He pushed in farther, kissing her deeply until she was forced to take another calming exhale.

When he shifted her hips and pulled her the rest of the way onto his shaft, she melted. He couldn’t hold back his groan of pleasure as he sank in effortlessly to the hilt, his stones brushing her soft ass.

“Fuck,” she said. “Why does that feel so good?”

He rose onto his knees, tilting her hips up on the process. She groaned.

“Because I bet no one’s hit this spot with you before,” he said.

Rearing back slightly, he thrust into her with delicious intent.

She bit her lip.

“Yours is deep,” he said.

Her answering laugh was husky.

“Are you trying to suggest you’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had?”

He smirked, unable to deny the smug masculine satisfaction that slithered through him at the thought.

“You said it, not me.”

He pulled back and thrust into her a second time. At this she squirmed a little, eyes firmly shut again.

“Yes, Aelin?” He said, repeating the gesture a third time.

She wiggled, trying to get more friction.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh god, yes.”

With that he increased his pace, loving the obscene sound their bodies made as they came together. Christ, had it ever felt this good?

He rode her hard but tried to maintain a pace that wouldn’t cause her an unpleasant amount of friction. From her moans, he was doing a better than alright job.

Rowan drank her in as she writhed beneath him, her body covered in a glistening sheen of sweat, her small breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts.

When he reached a hand between her legs to play with her again, she swore, tightening around him.

“I’m so close.”

“Say my name," he said, left hand wrapping around the headboard for better leverage as he drove into her with increased force. “I want to hear you say my name when you come, Aelin.”

She surged forward, tongue tangled with his in a desperate kiss.

"Ro," she breathed. “Rowan.”

Rowan had to fend off a strangled moan at the reverence in her voice.

When he'd made the demand, he'd imagined her screaming it the way other women had, like it was a triumph that needed to be heralded. But hearing it whispered, as if it were a secret meant only for him, had been so much more powerful.

He instantly knew why: because this was so much more than mindless sex.

He felt the exact moment she came apart around him, loving the pressure as she squeezed him in a vice. Deftly he untied her bound hands, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

He couldn’t hold back the pleasured groan which escaped as he found his own climax, hips nestled to hers as he drove in deep a final time.

God, what he wouldn’t give to come inside this girl for real. It was a selfish thought, but one Ro couldn’t immediately shake. He didn’t often think about babies of his own, but something about Aelin Galathynius made him want to have a million.

He shook his head slightly, desperate to rid himself of the notion of having children with a woman he’d just met. He kissed her instead, using the feeling of her lips against him to ground him more fully into reality.

When he felt he’d mastered himself, he pulled back to meet Aelin’s eye, mildly horrified to find that hers were glassy. Despite his earlier declaration about wanting to have her in tears, actually seeing them in her eyes had his heart dropping out of his chest.

“Oh god, you’re crying,” he blurted, quickly pulling out of her and touching her cheek. “Aelin, why are you crying?”

At this she snorted, the sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“Because that so intense I almost don’t know what to do with myself,” she admitted. “And when I get overwhelmed I always end up crying.”

He frowned, brushing her petal-soft cheek again.

“Good overwhelmed or bad?”

“Good,” she said. “Definitely good. That was just so—“ she blew out a shaky inhale, another tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “I came so hard I think my brain just stalled for a second.”

He couldn’t help but grin, even as he gently brushed the moisture from her cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever broken someone’s brain before,” he said. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

She laughed, the sound easier this time.

“Don’t be annoying,” she said. “You know how good you are.”

“What can I say? You inspire greatness in me, Galathynius.”

He bent to gently kiss her, his finger drawing a an ever-tightening circle around one erect nipple. Her back arched slightly at his featherlight touch, goosebumps breaking out across her small breasts.

“You are so gorgeously responsive,” he told her, bending to tug the opposite nipple with his teeth. “It’s like your whole body is a hot spot. It makes it impossible to stop touching you. I could seriously play with you all night.”

“It’s not usually like this,” Aelin admitted after a beat, threading her hand into his hair. When she spoke again, her tone was softer, more candid. “Most the time I’m too in my head, and it makes it hard to get turned on enough to let go.”

“What made tonight different?” Rowan asked, brushing the hair out her face.

He was fairly sure he already knew, but he needed to hear her say it, to take ownership of the feeling.

“I feel safe with you,” she said. “I don’t know why—you’re basically still a stranger—but I do.”

Rowan smiled, kissing her more deeply this time.

“I told you that you’d let go for me,” he breathed against her lips. “How did it feel, gorgeous?”

“Incredible,” she said, shifting her hips in search of friction as he settled more fully on top of her again. “I didn’t want it to end.”

Deftly, Rowan peeled off the condom and threw it into the trash.

“Who said it had to?” He asked grabbing her hips and rotating so he was on his back, Aelin nestled in his lap. “That was just round one.”

In response, She reached for his shaft to begin getting him hard, but he caught her wrist instead.

“It’s a marathon, Galathynius, not sprint,” he said, flipping her hand in his so he could kiss her palm. “And your body’s not ready for me to be inside you again yet.”

Aelin seemed a bit flustered at that, which left Rowan feeling torn. On the one hand, he hating thinking he’d embarrassed her or made her uncomfortable. On the other, the idea that he has the ability to make swaggering, sensuous Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius bashful filled him with deep-seated satisfaction.

Seeming to read the intention in his gaze, she bent to kiss him, whispering, “you don’t have to.”

He pushed her back gently so he could look into her face.

“Don’t have to what?”

“Go down on me again. I know most guys don’t like to do it again once they’ve—“

“That’s amateur hour,” Rowan said, tone sharper than he’d meant it to be. “Whichever pin-headed prick told you that is a loser.”

She laughed, relaxing a little. At seeing this, Rowan settled more fully on his back, hands braced on her hips.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough with desire.

He was rewarded with a pretty blush.

“I’ve never...done it like that,” she admitted.

He smirked.

“Then I’m about to give you an important lesson in pleasure. Come here.”

Rising onto her knees, Aelin rose over Rowan until she was mere inches from his face.

“I feel like I’m going to suffocate you!” She said with a sheepish laugh.

“Then I’ll die the luckiest man on earth,” he said, gripping her ass. “Hold onto the headboard.”

She did, and he lifted his head just enough that the tip of his tongue brushed the most sensitive part of her.

Her whole body tightened in pleasure.

“Do that again,” she said, sounding more her confident self now.

“No,” he told her. “This position is about you being in control.  I don’t give you pleasure; you take it.”

When she still didn’t move, he added, “this should be no problem for an imperious little thing like you.”

He knew goading her would do the trick, and after a moment she relaxed her hips, body sinking down to meet his waiting mouth. He couldn’t stifle a groan as she rocked her hips against him in experimentation. Seeing Aelin in is position, vulnerable but in control, was hotter than her could have possibly imagined.

Rowan flicked his tongue against her and she swore.

“That feels good,” she breathed, rocking forward against his mouth again. “Really good.”

His hands on the back of her thighs, he urged her hips forward, grazing her with his teeth before sucking hard.

This proved to be her unleashing.

Using the headboard for leverage, she began swishing her lips in a rhythmic motion, panting softly through her teeth as she worked herself up to climax.

He kneaded the soft flesh of her backside while she rocked against him, trying not to imagine what it would be like to slide his cock into her tight little ass. He had no idea if she was into that sort of thing nor any desire to pressure her into finding out, but the way she rocked back into his hands—as if urging them to explore—was enough to make him curious.

Hands on her waist, he tilted her pelvis towards him slightly, waiting to see how she’d react. In response she scooted higher on his body, her knees practically touching to the headboard. In this new position, there was no part of her he couldn’t access, and when she leaned forward, the invitation was clear.

Using his hands to open her legs more fully for him, he brushed his mouth against an intimate spot that—judging by her deep moan—no one had even touched before. When he repeated the gesture and she didn’t tense or pull away, he split legs even wider and circled the tight ring of muscle at the back with his tongue.

“Fuck,” she said, voice devolving into a string of slurred Spanish. “Rowan.”

Rowan worked her in broader strokes, his free hand coming up to play with her clit. When he slipped a finger inside of her he could tell she was getting close. Not wanting to claim the victory of her orgasm with only his fingers, he pulled her hips down so his tongue could replace his hand.

Far bolder now that she’d been when they’d started, Aelin followed his lead. Her fingers twined in his hair as she rocked against him hard, and Rowan was happy enough to sit back and watch as she took her pleasure like he’d instructed.

Between the rimjob and the edging, Aelin’s orgasm��when it hit—seemed to last a blissful eternity. She was trembling slightly as she collapsed beside him, eyes still closed.

“That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” he said.

He gently cupped between her legs, careful not to apply too much pressure when she was still so sensitive.

“You’re telling me that?” she said with a laugh. “I’ve done it that to other people, obviously, but I’ve never let anyone—“ she broke off with another laugh. “Apparently I’ve been missing out.”

Rowan smirked, if only to hide the twinging realization that after tonight, it would someone else making her feel good, not him.

“I hope I didn’t set an impossible standard,” he said dryly.

“Maybe not yet,” she said, eyes blazing with want. “But you’re well in your way, and the night is still young.”

She let her azure gaze snake down his body with exaggerated slowness. By the time it reached his cock, he was granite-hard.

“Where are the rest of the condoms?” he asked.

If he wasn’t inside of her in the next minute, he might actually lose his mind.

“Bathroom,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Rowan didn’t have time for that. He rose from the bed to follow her into the lavish en-suite. Normally he might of gawked a little at the opulence—the marble countertops, the sunken tub—but his entire focus was on Aelin. The best he could do was shift the lens to the things in her periphery. Everything else was a blur.

She was just straightening—foil packet in hand—as he entered, and he didn’t even give her a chance speak before her grabbed her around the waist, spinning her so his chest was pressed into her back.

Taking the condom, he ripped open the package and slid it on with one hand while his other moved between her legs to ensure she was ready for him.

“How do you feel?” He asked. “Do you need me to—“

“Whitethorn, if I was any wetter I’d be Nile. Get inside me already.”

It was all the permission Rowan needed. Hand on her back, he coaxed her to bend, using his legs to push hers wider as he did. She yelped softly as her bare breasts made contact with the cold marble, and he ran a hand over the curve of her hip to settle her before sliding to the hilt in single stroke.

It felt better, even, than it had the first time. She clenched around the intrusion of him even as she moaned, and he only managed to wait a beat before grabbing her hips and setting a blistering pace.

He glanced in the mirror and their gazes caught in the reflection, her desire molten.

Wanting more, he coaxed her up until her torso lifted from the counter.

Yes, he thought with greedy satisfaction. This.

This was what he wanted. Her firm tits bouncing with each hard thrust, her hips rocking back and forth, and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

Gently collaring her throat with his hand, he whispered in her ear.

“Touch yourself for me.”

She did, canting her hips forward for increased friction as she moaned.

As she increased the speed with her hand, Rowan increased his, fucking her hard through her orgasm as she tightened around him.

She collapsed against the counter as he pulled her hips flush to his for one final thrust before coming undone.

She wobbled when he stepped back to pull off the condom, and he deftly caught her around the waist before she melted to the floor like a newborn fawn.

“Easy,” he said, coaxing her into his arms.

She laid her head on his shoulder.

“I think your dick has mystical powers,” she said. “Because that was insane.”

Rowan chuckled, carrying her to the bed and laying her down.

“There’s a Harry Potter joke in there somewhere,” he said, brushing some hair off her sweaty cheek as her eyelids drooped. “I’m just too lazy to find it.”

“Harry Potter references,” she said, already half-asleep. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

She was out before he could even respond, but he did anyway, lips to her temple as he whispered, “I wish I could.”

XX

Ro woke up at sunrise the next morning, Aelin still fast asleep beside him. Not quite in his arms, but still close enough that he could feel her warmth. Christ, she smelled incredible. Like lemon and coconut.

He propped his head on a chin, admiring the way the dawn light set her skin and hair to glowing. She looked like a fallen star.

Rowan’s heart ached a bit as he studied her, trying to memorize every detail, knowing that their time together was quickly running out. Originally, he’d only planned to stay the night, promising himself that as soon as the dark was gone, he would be, too.

In the light of day, he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Perhaps it was only asking for more trouble, but Rowan wanted to stay at least for the morning.

He could bring her coffee from that shop Cash loved; if Ro remembered correctly, it wasn’t far from here. He could go get it while she was still sleeping, and make her breakfast when she woke up.

He wouldn’t stay all day, he promised himself, just long enough that she knew she wasn’t some meaningless screw he’d fucked and then chucked. Surely she deserved that much, at least.

Unable to resist, he ran a hand down the silky mane of her hair, slightly tangled from their numerous romps the night before, before rising from the bed as quietly and creeping towards the bedroom door. He found his boxers briefs and shorts easily enough. He just needed to find his—

“Leaving so soon?”

He turned to find Aelin sitting up in the bed, that signature smirk painted on her pouty mouth. She hadn’t bothered to pull up the sheet to cover herself, and her breasts were fully visible, the studs in them winking in the crepuscular light pouring in from the window.

“Only to get some coffee,” he said, loving the way the tension which had limned her muscles disappeared. She’d been displeased with the idea of him leaving, even if she hadn’t wanted to show it.

Her next smile was far easier.

“I have coffee here,” she said.

“Not like this you don’t,” he said with a grin. “There is no coffee on earth better than the beans for the Kona Mountains.”

Her expression grew feline.

“You dare say such things to a Cuban?” She said. “If Galen were here, he’d have you tarred and feathered.”

Rowan recalled the coffee he’d had on a trip to Havana during the short period travel when from the US to Cuba had been permitted. She wasn’t wrong; it had been fucking delicious. Still, he wasn’t going to give up that easy.

“That’s more like espresso; not the same as having a full mug with you while you watch the sun rise.”

“The sun’s already risen,” Aelin said with a smile. “And coffee should be strong and decadent, and that’s what a cortadito is. You can keep your vat of hot bean water; a little is all you need. Just enough to whet the appetite.”

Rowan couldn’t help but grin.

“Awfully set in your ways for a person who’s so young.”

“I’m only five years younger than you,” Aelin pointed out. “And I didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”

“That’s because I have none,” Rowan admitted. “You’re—“

He broke off, not wanting to embarass himself with verbose declarations now that they were both stone sober.

“I’m—“ Aelin prompted, standing from the bed. She was still naked as they day she was born, and it was an effort not to admire her.

“You know what you are,” Rowan said.

“I do,” Aelin agreed, slinking forward and draping her arms over Rowan’s shoulders. “But it hits different coming from you.”

It was the same thing he’d told her the night before, and he decided to indulge her the way she had him.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his hand slipping around her bare waist to tug her into him.

He kissed her softly, and he could feel her answering smile against his lips.

“Yes, I am,” she said, and he couldn’t help it.

He laughed, lifting her off her feet and heading towards the bed with her still in his arms. When he was close enough he tossed her onto the wrinkled nest of sheets and pillows before crawling over her.

“What am I going to do with you, Galathynius?”

She laughed as he playfully nuzzled her neck.

“Feed me? I’m starving after your thorough ravishing last night.”

“I think I can do that,” he said, bending to kiss her.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get up right away. Instead he rolled onto his side so he was facing her, trying not to preen as she traced a whorl of his tattoo.

“We never talked about these last night,” she said, her featherlight touch making goosebumps appear on his skin.   “They’re...Hawaiian?”

“Māori,” Rowan said. “I grew up on Maui, but my family is originally from farming town near Auckland.”

Aelin’s eyes glittered with interest.

“Have you even been there?”

“To New Zealand?” Rowan shrugged. “We used to go every few years while my grandparents were still alive. At the time it seemed boring. Now I’m glad we got the opportunity.”

Aelin nodded, still tracing his tattoos. She’d moved from his shoulder to his chest, fingers trailing closer and closer to his heart. To—

“And this one?” Aelin said. “It doesn’t look Māori.”

Rowan’s throat ached a bit as she ran the tips of her fingers over the letters at the very center of the massive design, directly above his heart.

Λυρία

“It’s Greek,” he explained.

She glanced up at him, gaze full of emotion as she said quietly, “It looks like a name.”

He nodded, throat growing tight.

“Lyria.”

Aelin didn’t push for clarification, but after a beat Rowan found himself speaking anyway.

“She’s my—she was my—“

When he broke off, Aelin only nodded.

“What happened?”

“Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. It was stage four by the time they caught it. She was gone within six months of her diagnosis.”

Aelin reached up to gently cup Rowan’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

He’d had people apologize to him a thousand times for Lyria’s untimely death, but something in Aelin’s tone was different. It was sympathetic but also...understanding, somehow.

“Have you ever lost someone you thought would be in your life forever?”

Aelin considered this before flipping her wrist and extending  it. There, inked in neat script, were three small letters Rowan hadn’t noticed before.

S-a-m

“We were high school sweethearts and went to UT together,” she explained. “My sophomore year we lived in an apartment together in West Campus, but we’d started to talk about moving after there had been a series of unsolved rapes in the neighborhood. We were on the first floor and Sam was worried about me being there when he was on the road for baseball season. The night I finally agreed we could start looking for another place, there was a break-in.”

She paused, brows furrowed as she continued to study the tattoo.

“The guy had a gun, and told Sam that if he cooperated it would be over quickly and neither of us would get hurt. But Sam refused, and he fought the guy off while I called the cops. He got shot while they were struggling with the gun, and by the time the paramedics got there it was too late.”

“Aelin, I...” Rowan paused, not wanting to saying the wrong thing. “That must have been awful. I’m so sorry.”

Aelin nodded, rubbing the tattoo with her thumb.

“Me too,” she said. “I miss him a lot.”

That, Rowan certainly understood. There wasn’t a day that went by that Rowan didn’t miss Lyria.

“Did they ever catch the perp?”

“Yeah, the guy’s gloves came off in the struggle and he ended up leaving prints. Cairn Macgory. Turned out he was a law student, top honors, no criminal record. The only reason they had his fingerprints was because of his application to take the bar. He was going to be a family law attorney. He already had a job lined up after school.”

“I hope he rots in hell,” Rowan said honestly, hating the haunted look that had crept into Aelin’s eyes.

“He’s honestly just lucky the cops got to him first,” she said. “My dad was ready to have him black-bagged back to Cuba and cut into little pieces.”

“I’m sort of sorry he didn’t,” Rowan admitted, and this—unexpectedly—made Aelin laugh.

“Aren’t you a cop? I thought you’d be all gung-ho for law and order.”

“Even cops can want revenge.”

Some of Aelin’s mirth faded at this, and she looked up to study him. It was an odd feeling to be so exposed, but Rowan found he didn’t mind it coming from Aelin. After a moment she relented, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry, that was sort of heavy for a one-night stand.”

Rowan strung an arm around her sturdy shoulders as he ignored the twinge in his gut.

A one-night stand.

He’d never stayed the morning with his previous one-night stands, and he’d certainly never told any of them about Lyria, so how could that be what this was?

Before he could damn the consequences and ask Aelin about it, she slipped from his embrace, grinning at him over a shoulder.

“Can I make you a cortadito, or have I scared you off?”

He grabbed her hand to pull her back.

“I’ll have coffee,” he told her rising onto his knees and she sank back onto the bed half-way. “And after that I’ll take you to breakfast.”

“You’re friends won’t be missing you?

Rowan traced her hipbones with this thumbs, everything he’d done to her the previous evening flooding back.

“They’re adults,” he said breezily, leaning forward to kiss the soft skin between her breasts. “They’ll be fine.”

Aelin drove a hand into his hair, her grip light and playful.

“You phones been blowing up for 20 minutes,” she pointed out.

“That’s just Cash being nosy.”

“He’s not dating anyone?”

“Not that I know of,” Rowan admitted setting back onto the bed and tugging her casually into his lap. “But Cash has always been full of secrets; it’s part of his charm.”

“What about the other two?” She asked. “The gorgeous one and the grouch.”

“Fenrys is more a serial dater,” Rowan said. “Mostly because his taste in men is garbage. He always falls for the haole fuckboys  then cries when they turn out to be assholes.”

“Haole?” Aelin said.

“Non-Polynesians, technically,” Rowan explained. “But most of the time Hawaiians just use it to mean—“

“Gringos,” Aelin said, grinning. “They do love to make trouble, don’t they?”

Rowan had to laugh at this.

“Fen would certainly say so.”

Aelin nodded, laughing as well.

“So that just leaves—”

“Lorcan,” Rowan said. “His bark is worse than his bite.”

“Aedion said he played him in Volleyfest last year in Miami. Why didn’t y’all compete in the men’s division together?”

Rowan rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s...complicated.”

“I assume this has to do with your ex?”

“She invited me to play in with her. Lor wasn’t even supposed to be here this weekend. He decided to surprise me last minute.”

“So there is a gooey center underneath the scowl!” Aelin said.

“To be honest, I think Lor is probably the most sensitive and caring of all four of us. He just—isn’t good at emoting. He’s also a fastidious believer in ‘boys night’, though I think that’s just because he’s not good at chatting women up.”

“Bet he wasn’t too thrilled with me last night then, huh?”

“He’ll get over it. And he still pulls like crazy, even with his terrible flirting. Usually women take one look at him and decide they don’t even care if he can talk at all.”

Aelin laughed.

“I figured as much,” she said, rising from the bed again. “I have a lot of follow-up questions, but I need a shower before we go. Care to join me?”

She was already halfway to the open bathroom door when Rowan found his feet again, and wasting no time, he quickly swept her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

After they spent forty-fives minutes fooling around in the shower and another hour having sex against nearly every available surface in the suite, breakfast—inevitably—turned to lunch.

After lunch, they’d joined a pick-up “king of the beach” doubles tournament some of the previous day’s competitors had set up. They’d made such a good team that it was nearly evening by the time they lost a match and were finally bumped off the champion court.

Starving from the exertion, they’d gone back to the suite to shower before leaving again to go to dinner. Dinner had turned into cocktails on the beach, which had turned into beers  drinks at Bar 35 then tequila shots at Smith & Kings. The evening that followed was a blur of pleasure, as was the following morning, which they spend in bed together, naked and sweaty.

At every turn Rowan told himself he needed to leave, need to start distancing himself from Aelin so he could start trying to forget her. However, he’d known from the start that it had been a fools errand.

There was no forgetting a girl like Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. Her vivacity, her humor, her raw sexual charisma—Rowan had never met anyone like her, and he doubted he ever would again.

So how the fuck was he supposed to just let her go? It was a thought that plagued him all the way to the airport on the afternoon Aelin was due to fly back to the mainland. He’d agreed to accompany her for a last drink before her flight departed, wanting to wring every last second he could out of the weekend.

It was—he knew—only delaying the inevitable by continually putting off their goodbyes, but Ro couldn’t help it. Aelin was like the sun—vibrant and essential—and Rowan had found himself in her orbit.

Harsh realities aside, it was a painfully lovely place to be.

Ro definitely felt a shift in the vibe as he paid their tab and they headed towards the security gate. Things had gone from easy and playful to quiet and subdued, Aelin’s usual flair dimming as she continually adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

Rowan searched and searched for the words he would say to her when they were finally forced to part. They’d never even exchanged numbers; perhaps he could ask for hers and offer to call her if he was ever in Austin?

It seems so stilted and formal after everything they’d shared this weekend. He’d been inside of her, for Christ’s sake. In fact, they’d had so much sex that they’d had to buy more condoms. And she’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, and stayed there until they’d woken up this morning. That was worth more than some vague promise to “look her up” if he even came to Texas.

Still, Ro was burning daylight and he knew it. The security gate was visible now, and though they’d both seemed to slow their pace in an effort to delay the inevitable, it was approaching just the same. Finally they reached the short queue where agents were checking boarding passes and travelers were taking off their shoes and belts.

Aelin was busy on her phone as they slowed to a stop, almost as if she were avoiding looking at him.

“My cousins are already at the gate,” she said by way of explanation. “They said boarding is starting in twenty minutes.”

Rowan glanced at the security line then his watch.

“You’ve got time; things seem to be moving pretty fast.”

Aelin looked over at the line as well. Finally she dragged her azure eyes back to him, the sheer force of her gaze enough to stun him stupid. She paused, as if waiting for him to speak. He had nothing, though.

“Well,” she said finally, a small, tense smile playing around her lips.  “I would offer to shake your hand and say ‘it was nice to meet you’, but given the fact we’ve seen each other naked, I think I’ll spare us both the indignity.”

Rowan forced a laugh, even as a pit began forming in his stomach. Shit, should he give her a hug, offer to give her—

“Goodbye, Rowan,” she said, leaning up to brush a kiss just to the right of his mouth. “It’s been—“ she clearly her throat, glancing away for a second. “I had an amazing weekend.”

“Congratulations again,” he found himself saying. “For making the AVP tour. You deserve it.”

Jesus Fucking Christ, was that really the best he could do? Maybe Fen was right, and he was destined to die alone.

Aelin’s grin didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Like I said, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Happy to help,” he forced out. “Have a safe flight, Aelin.”

She smiled, the solemnity in her eyes now limning her face as well.

“I put my number in your phone,” she said, beginning to walk backwards towards the TSA podium. “Call me if you’re ever in Austin.”

With that she turned, and Rowan’s heart was suddenly in his throat, beating two hundred times a minute.

His mind whirred with all the reasons he had to simply let her leave—she still in college, they lived thousands of miles apart, he was a cop in Vice Squad and she was a fucking billionaire—a perceived conflict of interest even if it wasn’t a real one. There was no way it could ever work. It was hopeless, fraught with problems, doomed to fail—

He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears as he continued to spiral, thoughts growing so jumbled that he could hardly make sense of them anymore. Then a single, cogent thread emerged through the cacaphony and chaos, spooling him back to sanity.

A voice.

“Anóitos,” it teased, the tone soft and airy. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there!”

Fuck , he missed that voice.

It had been three years since he’d lost Lyria. Three years since he’d heard her laugh, or sing, or speak Greek.

Three long, terrible years since he’d heard her speak at all.

But even after all this time, her voice was crystal clear in his head. He often felt it was her absence—more than her memory—that he’d been left with when she’d died. In that moment, though, it almost felt as if Lyria were standing beside him.

“Go, Ro. I’ll be here.”

Rowan felt a warmth tingle through him, and as he blinked back to reality, Lyria’s voice seemed to fade. But where he’d been buzzing with doubt a moment before, Rowan felt himself suddenly brimming with clarity.

If there was anything he’d learned from Lyria’s sickness, it was that life was simply too short to waste.

Lyria had died with her would-be engagement ring still in tucked away in Ro’s dresser drawer. He hated himself for the cowardice, but when she got sick he couldn’t bring herself to ask her to marry him. He’d wanted to believe that if he put off giving her the ring it might somehow serve as a talisman to keep her from leaving him. It hadn’t though, and instead she’d died never getting to be his wife.

It was a mistake he couldn’t afford to make a second time. It was improbable that he and Aelin would get married, but he felt he owed them both the opportunity to find out.

His mind was made up; fuck, he was really doing this.

“Aelin!”

She turned, watching with bemusement as he jogged toward her.

“What—“ she began, but he cut her off.

“I don’t want this to be over,” he blurted.

Aelin sagged a bit, a genuine smile splitting her face.

“Oh thank God,” she said.

Setting down her bag, she started towards him and they met halfway. Rowan cradled her face in his hands and he bent to kiss her. She fisted the fabric of his T-shirt at the hips as the kiss intensified.

“So what does this mean?” Aelin said, slightly breathless as she pulled away. “I’ve never done this before.”

Rare for her to admit she wasn’t perfect at something.

“We’ll have to figure it out as we go,” Rowan said. “My detective’s exam is in two weeks, and then I get a week off. I can come to Austin then?”

She nodded.

“Are we...” Aelin paused, biting her lip. “I mean, do you want to be...”

“Be what?”

“Exclusive?”

“Yes!”

It was out before he could stop it, so he quickly amended, “but only if you—“

“Yes,” she said, smile easier now. “I want that.”

“And are we...using labels?”

She smirked.

“Three days in and you’re already trying to wife me up?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to flush.

“Okay, no labels—“

“I didn’t say that,” Aelin said quickly. “I just don’t want to jinx a good thing by moving too fast. What if you get back to LA and realize you accidentally got a girlfriend you don’t want? You did drink a lot of tequila this weekend.”

“Never,” he said gently, taking her cheeks in his hands. “Doubt that I want you, Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. And I’m fine to wait, if that’s what you want.”

“But...”

He felt his lips tugging again.

“But it’s doesn’t feel soon, not to me.”

“So....labels?” she said.

“Labels,” he agreed.

She grinned, kissing him again.

“In that case, your girlfriend has to go or she’s going to miss her flight and turn into your live-in girlfriend.”

“Honestly, your boyfriend wouldn’t mind.”

Aelin scrunched her nose, even as she laughed a bit.

“We agree the third person thing is creepy, right?”

“Yes, thank you God,” Rowan said, laughing with her.

“Dame un beso,” Aelin said, grabbing the collar of his shirt in an effort to tug his lips closer to hers. “Or I really am going to miss this flight.”

Knowing his time was short, Rowan made the kiss count, teasing Aelin with his lips and tongue until she was slightly breathless.

“See you in three weeks,” he said, pulling away.

He set the bag Aelin had abandoned on her shoulder and kissed her quickly again.

“And text me when you get on the plane so I know you’ve made it.”

She grinned, kissing him a final time before jogging off towards security once again.

“Oh and just fair warning,” she said, spinning on a heel to grin at him as she joined the short line. “My cousins are not going to like this. Might want to sleep with one eye open for a while.”

“You tell me this now?”

“Te veo pronto, querido,” she said in response, kissing her hand in farewell before showing the TSA agent her boarding pass and disappearing into the concourse.

He waited several minutes before pulling out his phone to text her. As he did, his phone chirped to signal an incoming text.

Did I mention I also stole your number and put it in my phone? 😈 💋

Troublemaker, he wrote back. Did you make it?

Yes. Wish you were here to join the Mile High Club with me.

Before Rowan could even formulate a response to that, his phone chimed again, this time from a number he didn’t know.

This is Aedion Ashryvver, it said. Treat her right or I’ll break both your kneecaps.

His phone went off a third time, the new text also from an unknown number.

Not just your kneecaps, either.

Galen Ashryvver, if Ro had to guess.

Ignoring Aelin’s cousins, he replied to her instead, saying simply, Seems like good news travels fast

The grey ellipsis pulsed for a moment as Aelin typed.

Aedion said it was their price for letting us stay in the suite alone all weekend. Taking off now. Talk to you soon ✌️ ✈️

Then it was worth it, Rowan sent back. Have a safe flight. Call me when you get stateside.

Aelin sent back a heart, and Rowan had to fight down an annoyingly girlish fluttering in his stomach as he dialed a new number and put the phone to his ear.

It only rang twice before the line clicked.

“He lives!” Cash said in greeting. “Welcome back from the island  of puss—“

“Very funny,” Rowan interjected. “Where are you?”

“Hideaway. Where are you, honeymoon chapel in Vegas?”

Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Ha-ha.”

Cash scoffed.

“Ha-ha, that’s all I get? You’ve been gone for two days, brother! I want details.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”

“Just give me a quick teaser: do you have a girlfriend now?”

Rowan growled, making Cash laugh.

“I told you!” He said to someone on his end, presumably Lor or Fen.

“You’re seriously dating her?” Lor demanded a second later. “Like full-blown ‘exclusively-fucking, using-labels’ dating her?”

“Full-blown.”

“I KNEW IT!” Cash called, just as Lor growled, “fuck me, man.”

“You owe me a drink,” Lorcan told Rowan. “I just lost 200 bucks because of you.”

“I’ll buy you a shot of house tequila,” Rowan said, unable to keep in a smile. “Final offer.”

“Hurry up,” was Lorcan’s only response. “Before Kahukore explodes from the anticipation.”

“Getting my popcorn as we speak!” Cash called from the background, and with that Rowan hung up.

A short Uber ride later, Rowan strolled into the Hideaway Inn, his friends wolf-whistling as he approached.

Cash was on his feet first, grabbing Rowan by the shoulders an inspecting him head-to-toe.

“What are you doing?” Rowan said, playfully pushing out of Cash’s grip.

“Just taking you in,” Cash said with a disarming smile. “It feels like it’s been an age since we last saw you!”

Rowan rolled his eyes, and Fen added, “Pretty dark circles you’ve got there, lover boy. Galathynius keep you up all night?”

“I am not answering that,” Rowan said. “Or any questions about what she’s like in bed.”

“Why?” Cash cooed. “Because she’s your girlfriend?”

“You’re both clowns,” Rowan said.

“You’re the one dating a teenager,” Lor said. “So who’s the clown now?”

“She’s 21,” Rowan said. “And green isn’t a good color on your, Salvaterre, so just relax.”

Lorcan smirked.

“Jealous? Of you dating a Amazonian she-devil? I don’t think so.”

“That is exactly what a jealous person would say,” Fen pointed out. “Chin up, Lor, your time will come.”

Lorcan only snarled in response.

“What do we think Salvaterre’s  eventual lady love going to be like?” Cash chimed in. “Betting line’s officially open, gents.”

“Tiny,” Rowan and Fen both said at the same time.

“Fifty bucks says he ends up marrying a girl under 5’4,” Fen added.

“Grow up,” Lor said with an eye roll, though Ro had known him long enough to tell he wasn’t actually bothered by the conversation.

“Make me,” Fen said.

Lor jerked his head the pool table in the back corner.

“I beat you, you owe me fifty bucks and you shut your cakehole.”

“And if I win?” Fen said.

“You won’t, so it doesn’t matter. Let’s do this.”

Lor shot Rowan a quick, conspiratorial nod, and Ro realized Lor had done it on purpose, to give Rowan and Cash a chance to talk.

It was one of the things that Ro loved about Lorcan Salvaterre. He was perceptive in seeing what people needed, and not jealous or petty. Somehow, he’d seemed to sense Rowan’s need to talk to Cash alone, even if Ro himself hadn’t realized it until just now.

He gave Lor a grateful smile, and Lor turned to clap Fen on the back, leading him towards the billiards table in the back.

“So,” Cash said, flagging the bartender down and ordered two beers and two shots of whiskey. “Tell me everything.”

He clicked his glass to Rowan’s in salute and they both tipped the shots back. Rowan winced a bit at the taste before running a hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts.

He ran Cash quickly through the weekend’s events, skipping over the more X-rated content and ending with his and Aelin’s agreement at the airport.

“Damn,” Cash said when Rowan had finished. “Are you sure this girl isn’t a witch? Because she has you under a spell.”

Rowan laughed.

“She’s—” he began, breaking off with a sheepish laugh. “I really like her, man.”

“You’re smitten,” Cash said with a grin. “Look at you!”

Rowan opened his mouth to deny it before shrugging.

“Being with her feels different somehow. It isn’t just that she’s gorgeous or funny or smart, even though she’s all of those things. It’s more than that.”

Cash considered this, but he didn’t tease the way Ro feared he might. Instead he simply asked, “what of you mean?”

Rowan blew out a breath.

“There’s just something about her that’s almost... familiar . Like I’ve been looking for her my whole life, even without knowing it. I know that sounds crazy, but...”

Rowan shrugged again, tracing the rim of his glass.

“She’s just special.”

Cash’s smiled, a softer thing than his fiendish grin from before.

“I’ve never seen you like this, brother.” He paused, his expression growing more reverent as he added in a softer voice, “Not in a long time, at least.”

They were quiet a moment as they both silently recalled the memories that hung unspoken between them. Cash had been the first important person in his life that Rowan had introduced Lyria to, and over the years, Cash was the one who’d come to know Lyria the best; he’d been her friend in his own right.

He couldn’t see it at the time, but when Ro finally emerged from his own grief over Lyria’s death, it was realize that Cash had been grieving as well; he’d simply put his aside to focus on helping Rowan heal instead. 

It was hard to describe what that sacrifice had meant to Ro; the nice thing about a friendship as deep as theirs was that Rowan didn’t have to explain his gratitude for Cash to understand it. It was implicit in every conversation they ever had about Lyria, even this one.

“You want to know the weirdest part?” Rowan said finally. “When I was watching Aelin walk away, it felt like, I don’t know, like Lyria was there with me. Like she was telling me ‘go get her’.”

Cash smiled, his expression one of admiration tinged in sadness.

“She wanted you to be happy, Ro.”

Rowan nodded, throat tight as he looked into his glass.

“I still miss her, every day. Part of me worries that if things with Aelin ever got serious, I might start missing her less.”

Cash’s answering shrug was sympathetic.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t want to forget her,” Rowan said, marveling that he could admit that fear out loud.

“You won’t,” Cash assured him. “Ever. But you’re allowed to move on, brother; that’s what she wanted for you.”

There was something in his tone, an assurity and a promise, that had Rowan’s mouth going dry. He glanced up to meet Cash’s gaze.

“She told you that?”

Cash nodded once.

“The last time I saw her. She made me promise to look out for you, and to make sure you ended up with the right girl. And honestly?” He said, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “I think you might have just met her. I can’t let you mess that up by overthinking things, for Lyria’s sake as much for your and Aelin’s.”

Rowan felt his lips tugging up.

“You’re going to like her,” he said, and Cash grinned.

“Latin girl who can kick your ass in sports? I love her already.”

Rowan laughed.

“I’m going to Austin after my exam, but she’s planning on coming to LA sometime after that. If you’re free, you could fly out, I have airline miles—“

“I’d love to,” Cash interjected, clapping Ro in the back. “But I’m going to be out of commission for the next few months. I promise I’ll meet her properly soon, though. She seems cool as hell.”

Not to be put off by the diversion regarding Aelin, Rowan frowned, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized his friend’s expression. Cash’s answering smile was cryptic and slightly wild. It was then Ro remembered what Cash had told him when he’d first gotten into town days ago.

“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his silver hair. “I feel like such a dick, you said you had news. I totally forgot, I’m sorry.”

Cash laughed, the sound easy and unburdened.

“You just met the women you’re probably going to marry. I’ll give you a pass.”

Rowan thought to object to the notion he was going to marry Aelin after only three days together, but something told him not to.

“Well tell me now,” Rowan said instead.

His friend’s cryptic smile returned, mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“The only thing worse than having too many secrets,” Cash always said. “Is having none at all.”

Ro had a feeling Cash was about to drop a big one on him right now.

“I’m moving to London.”

“Wait?” Rowan demanded. “Seriously?”

Cash grinned.

“Seriously.”

“Just for a change of pace?”

“Partly,” Cash said with a shrug. “But mostly to be a Master Sommelier.”

Now that, Rowan had not expected. He struggled to pick his jaw off the floor enough to speak.

“Like a wine expert?” He said, stunned. “I thought you didn’t like wine! You always ripped on your uncle for opening Merchant of Vino!”

Cash laughed.

“That’s because it’s a stupid name and Dev’s a hapless businessman.“

Rowan still couldn’t fully master his shock, though it was quickly being subsumed by an overwhelming pride.

“This is amazing, man,” he said, clasping Cash’s shoulder. “When did you decide to do this?”

Cash’s smile had grown slightly sheepish.

“When I first sat for the Level One Sommelier exam three years ago?”

“Three years?” Rowan repeated. “You’ve been sitting on this for three fucking years? Why didn’t you say anything? Every time I asked about your job you brushed me off!”

Cash rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn’t want to tell you in case it—didn’t pan out.”

“Seems like it’s panning out just fine!” Rowan said with a laugh.

“It’s going alright,” Cash agreed with a laugh. “Considering I passed the theory portion of the Master Sommelier exam. I just have to complete the tasting and I’ll be one of 229 Masters Somms in the world.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rowan blurted. “That’s incredible. How does London fit into all this?”

“If I said the name Sadeghi, would that mean anything to you?”

“Persian billionaires or something?”

Cash nodded.

“The old man is from originally from Tehran, but the family has been in England for ages; they’re real estate royalty in the UK. Sadeghi put his son in charge opening a new hotel and restaurant in London, and I’m going to be the wine manager. Make the lists, relationship build with vineyards, that kind of thing. They’ve already hired a Michelin Star chef from Marrakech, so it’s...a pretty big deal. It’s also a good way to for me to grow my network while I study for the exam. I don’t want to be stuck in the restaurant business forever.”

“Cash,” Rowan said, grinning. “That’s amazing.”

Cash smiled.

“Maybe you and Aelin can come visit once I get settled,” Cash said in deflection, clearly at his limit for discussing himself. “You know, Aelin your girlfriend.”

Rowan had to laugh.

He had a girlfriend.

And—Jesus Christ—Cash was moving to England. It was almost too much good news for a single day.

“I’m happy for you,” he told his friend, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “And you deserve this. You’re going to crush it”

“I hope so,” Cash said. “The pass rate for the tasting portion of the exam is 32%.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Rowan said. “So that number means nothing.”

Cash grinned.

“You flirting with me, Whitethorn?”

“If you’re going to be friends with billionaires, you need to learn how to start taking compliments,” Rowan said with a chuckle.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cash said, and Rowan could see the unsaid words shining in his friend’s hazel eyes. “Another drink?”

Cash turned to slip off the stool he’d been perched on, by Rowan caught his arm.

“Cash.”

Cash turned back, expression somewhat bemused. Rowan felt a lump beginning to form in his throat, but he pushed on regardless.

“It’ll be you, you know that right?”

“Be me?” Cash repeated, confused.

“When I get married—whoever I get married to—you’ll be my best man. I couldn’t have it any other way.”

Cash smiled, eyes sparkling. He considered this for a moment before pulling Rowan into a hug, one which Rowan gratefully accepted.

“Love you, brother.”

There were very few people Rowan considered worthy of this type of familial affection, but Cash was certainly one of them.

“I’m not drunk enough for this kind of thing,” Cash said, pulling away. “I’m going to get us another drink.”

Rowan’s phone buzzed with an incoming call just as Cash was sauntering away. He was surprised to find it was Aelin, and concern sluiced through him as he answered the call.

Before he could ask if she was okay, Aelin said, “Stupid flight attendant has been holding out on me. She waited until just now to tell me I could make calls on WiFi.”

Rowan felt amusement tugging at his lips.

“Should I be concerned that you’re calling from altitude? Nothing’s wrong, is there?”

Rowan could practically hear Aelin’s grin through the phone.

“No,” she said breezily “But I realized I never told you about the Cinnabon I had on my way to the gate. I figured I should call and tell you now lest I forget.”

“Oh yeah?” Rowan said.

He couldn’t help it; he was all-out smiling now.

“It was life-changing,” Aelin said.

Rowan glanced up to find Cash joining Fen and Lor at the pool table with a conspiratorial wink. When he mouthed ‘sorry’ and made to rise, Cash waved him off with a smile.

“In that case,” Rowan said, settling back on his stool. “Tell me everything.”

THE END

If you liked this story and want more Rowaelin, check out my Nessian fic In Vino Veritas, set in the same modern au-verse about four years later. If you want a sneak peak at how Lorcan’s romance check out the teaser for F*cking Lawyers, set within the In Vino timeline. ♥️ 

TAGLIST:  @tswaney17 @katexrenee @mightymorphingayagenda @nalgenewhore @superspiritfestival @mis-lil-red @pilesofriles @whitewashedasiangiril @http-itsrebecca @starkovsnesta @thebitchupstairs @sometimesimthatbitch @islareads @faerie-queen-fireheart @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @enpointe10 @justgiu12 @thesurielships @keshavomit @stardelia @awesomelena555 @alyx801 @carbconnoisseur @ladywitchling @thewayshedreamed @annedub @cityofchelsea16 @spyofthenightcourt @empress-ofbloodshed @morrigays @theminorfallandthemajorlift @belamoonbeam @moonstoneriver77 @wesupremeginger @scrawlandspirits @garnet-29 @b00kworm @cursebreaker29 @jesstargaryenqueen @feyrethedarklady @officialasianbitch @cridhe-teine @sassyhobbits @musicmaam @januarystears @tottenhamboys20 @shyvioletcat @ifinallygavein @maybekindasortaace

[nevilles-insinuations]

Masterlist

◇  Hi I’m Frankie and I write fics, blurbs and all kinds of things. Feel free to message me to say hi or pop up to chat about random stuff. Could be tv, movies or just chatting absolute rubbish and making heart eyes at the people I write about ❤️

◇ Unless explicitly stated, I try and keep fics gender neutral or with no references to the reader’s sex at all but if you want something more inclusive just send a request and I’ll be happy to write it x

◇  Fics are fluff unless stated otherwise 

PROMPT LIST BLURBS

Luke Hemmings

More Than This ~ Luke helps you out with recording a song. Best Friend!reader 

Machine Gun Kelly/Colson Baker

Spongebob & Chill? ~ Doing absolutely nothing with your favourite person

Recipe for Disaster ~ Somehow Colson has convinced the boys to help him make you a belated birthday cake 

Your camera roll if MGK was your boyfriend  ~Part 1  ~Part 2   ~Part 3   ~Part 4 

Something Permanent* ~  He asks you a question that could change your whole relationship  {SMUT}

Welcome Distraction* ~ You get interrupted by a phone call but you’re not giving up that easy {SMUT}

Yours ~ Friends with benefits isn’t enough for you but you’re scared to admit it. Singer!reader 

Drunken Promises ~ Drunk and tall are a bad combination 

The Road to Normal ~ Surprising him on tour with your kids

He’s sick blurb 

Pete Davidson 

Going Home  ~ While in Texas to see family, an unexpected guest arrives

Kisses* ~ Pete makes you feel better after a bad day {SMUT}

Home Is Not A Place ~ When you have a toddler, normal is a little different 

Playinwitme*~ All work and no play makes for a lot of teasing {SMUT}

Dating Pete Davidson would include  headcanon

Pain Relief ~ Getting your period sucks a little less when he’s around

Something Close To True Romance ~ His surprise after being away filming doesn’t quite go to plan but you don’t really care

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Alex Summers/Havok (X-Men) 

Havok in the Lab ~ After making constant excuses to come see you in the lab, Alex comes clean about his feelings. Mutant!reader 

Clay Spenser (SEAL Team)

Tipsy  ~ Clay comes homes later than he said he would after winning a bet against Sonny. Relationship!reader

Fear of Falling ~ You have another nightmare and Clay tries to help

Dating Clay Spenser would include  headcanon ~Part 1   ~Part 2 

Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf)

Cardigan drabble

Klaus Mikaelson (The Originals/ Vampire Diaries)

Dating Klaus Mikaelson would include headcanon

Dating Klaus Mikaelson as a vampire or human headcanon

[lackofhonor]

To anybody who has an opinion:

Favorite drink for each of the boys? I'm a bit of a teetotolaer so this is mostly based on my friends.

Jack Daniels - Whiskey, but a good mid-range bourbon with a smoky finish is preferred. Buffalo Trace with a dash of water. Chilled but not cold. Will drink beer, especially at summer parties when it is hot out. Been known to indulge in some scotch on occasion when mingling as the face of the New York Statesman office or traveling on behalf of the legitimate liquor side of the business. The Scots know how to have a good time and he even invited some down to Kentucky a time or two. They fit RIGHT in! He's headed over to Glasgow next year for some shenangians with his new buddies.

Francisco Morales - Not picky. Will drink Stag or PBR if that is all this is available but enjoys Shinerbock, Heiniken and Fat Tire for something a little tastier. He stays pretty chill in the bar unless it is a celebration, just a couple beers and always cuts off early because he is the 'responsible friend' who is the designated driver. But take this man to a bonfire on the back forty of somebody's property with a guest room to crash in? Drunk!Frankie will emerge! He is silly and giggles at everything but also very easily confused. Will be affectionate with EVERYONE even though he is kinda swaying in his seat and has slightly glazed eyes. Need to guide him back up to the house for sleep even though he whines he is fine he will be asleep as soon as he hits the pillow.

Marcus Pike - Will enjoy a glass of wine or beer with a meal or relaxing at home. He isn't really one to go out and get buzzed. He isn't 25 anymore after all. Michelob Ultra or a crisp white like a riesling (fuck chardonnay). He likes flavor so I could see him enjoying a craft beer or two on occasion. He likes learning and would go on a brewery tour for sure. Also, reminds me of every runner I know who works out hard so they can have a good time after the race. Man works hard, he will smile and laugh while tipsy and want to hug his friends. Also, man would do pub trivia night in a heartbeat. He can cover the music/art categories while sipping his coffee infused stout.

Pero Tovar - My secret hc for this man is he is of Basque origin. They have some very unique wines. Txakoli wine essentially meams homemade. The harsh spanish basque region is known for sheep herders and fishermen. Rustic, stubborn and pretty masculine culture. Look it up. I see Pero tossing back a hearty red wine that tastes of berries but also has a pretty solid alcoholic punch. He waters it down if he will be working and needs to stay alert, but he has been known to slide into his cups when somewhere safe. If he and William are back in Spain or even back near Basque country, he will more freely smile and chat with his countrymen. Bascos have steel in their spines but they do have a lovely dark humor. Totally would play the game where you stab a knife between your fingers really fast while drunk.

Javier - Whisky, Tecate and Shinerbock. He obviously is a whiskey drinker. He drinks it on the rocks at the bar and straight at home. He grew up in Texas so a mexican beer and Shiner seems appropriate. Probably keeps his alcohol pretty simple. Javi drinks when he is stressed, depressed or just out on the town. Tipsy Javi is horny and will try to catch the eye of every woman he thinks he has a chance with. He will slip onto the dance floor and mold his body to another's. It's a physical advertisment of what he can do in bed (or against the wall of the bar if necessary). Drunk Javi is different. Truly drunk Javi is probably depressed/sad or angry. He is liable to lash put if pushed too far and if he is drinking out of stress he may become sloppy and uncoordinated. This is pretty rare though. Javier has a pretty high tolerance for drink so if he is truly sloshed he has imbibed a massive amount. Tipsy Javi who just wants to fuck is much preferred.

Ezra - Stella Artois, Heiniken. Noooo idea why. This just feels like something he would be into. He is so unique. Also tequila. I could see him as a tequila shot sort of man fresh off a successful job. This man is sensual and frankly anything that enhances that would be appropriate. But since he isn't terribly well off unless he has had a good haul, I'd say vodka or tequila based drinks. Tispy Ezra is verbose to the extreme. Expounding on all and sundry to whoever will listen. Has a bad habit of accidentally pissing people off because he just. won't. SHUT UP! Needs someone to watch his back and smooth things over or steer him outside to continue his diatribe where ya'll aren't disturbing other patrons. Free and floaty and excitable, Ezra with a bit of alcohol is just magnified and happy. Probably a lightweight who falls asleep super easy too. Tuck him in and rhen listen to him grumble as you tell him to "budge up blanket thief!" and he just pulls you into his arms while he hums in satisfaction. (Based on nothing. I am riffing here).

[sawmestarttobelieves]

Taylor,

You’ve been such a huge part of my life for so long that I don’t even know who I would be without you.

I started listening to you when I was 14 and I’m 24 now, which is absolutely crazy to think that it’s been an entire decade. I was a freshman in high school and right after Fearless came out I saw the music video for Love Story and I immediately knew there was something special about you. I bought the debut and Fearless albums that same day and never looked back.

Those were the first albums I ever learned every word to every song to. Speak Now was the first concert that I ever went to. Long Live was my class song that played at my high school graduation. I don’t even feel like the same girl that I was in high school until I remember that you were there for that part of my life too. You have been such a constant in my life.

RED came out two months after I started my freshman year of college. I’m from NJ and went to school in CA and when I first moved out there I was so homesick that I woke up every day and felt sick to my stomach because all I wanted was to be able to go home. I honestly know that the only reason I was able to stick it out was because I knew I had a new album of yours coming that October and it gave me something to look forward to every single day. The day before it was released my mom told me that my parents were getting divorced. I was 3,000 miles away and there was nothing I could do. I had never felt so alone in my life. That night I cried my eyes out to all 16 tracks. I didn’t think anything would make me feel better, and then, just like that, without even knowing it, you did just that. Slowly, I got used to being away from home. I made friends. I accepted that my family no longer included my dad. I started to remember what it felt like to be happy. And RED was the soundtrack for that entire crazy year.

Fall of my junior year of college I studied abroad in Prague. I was so excited to get to travel across Europe and make new friends and push my boundaries, but I was nervous too. I knew I could do it though, and knew that I could use 1989 to look forward to that October just like I had used RED what felt like a lifetime ago. I honestly think 1989 and you were the reason I never felt homesick one time over those 4 months. Being able to keep up with your interviews and read fan theories and wait for your lyric hints every day made me feel like I could have been right at home, where I would be doing the same exact things, rather than overseas in a country I’d never been before. I made my two roommates listen to 1989 every day for the rest of the semester once it came out whether it was while we got ready, while we ate dinner, at night when we were unwinding, when we would get so tipsy off of wine that we would laugh for hours over absolutely nothing. That album became the soundtrack to my travels in Amsterdam, Brussels, Geneva, Paris, Madrid, Budapest, and so many other cities that I had only ever dreamed of visiting. Knowing that in all of these crazy places I had you with me made experiences that ordinarily would have been scary seem exciting instead. Those were the four best months of my life and I’m so thankful you were such a huge part of it.

After 1989 you took your break from social media and from the industry. And I’m so glad that you did. I missed you more than you know, but I knew you needed it. You deserved to finally be able to live on your terms and find your happiness out of the spotlight. You left the public eye but you never left us. I still turned to your music when I was happy or sad or lonely. I still watched your interviews when it was 3am and I couldn’t fall asleep. I flew to Texas last minute to go to your only show of 2016. You were still my favorite person in the world. And you didn’t have to come back to us or give us new music ever again- I would never have stopped loving or appreciating you regardless. But you did, and I can never thank you enough for that.

I should have seen Reputation coming, because, once again, it seemed to come out exactly when I needed it to the most (I’m starting to think it cant just be a coincidence at this point that you put out albums exactly when I need to be reminded I’m not alone).

I graduated college in 2016, moved back home, and started working almost immediately. Going from a care free (well, mostly) college life, living with 4 of my best friends, and doing basically what I wanted, when I wanted, to suddenly living back home, working a 9-5 job, and having all of my friends living scattered across the country started to get hard. I finally understood what you meant in 22 about being happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time (though the happy and free parts of me were becoming more and more rare). I got stuck in a cycle of not trying to improve my life and circumstances and let myself feel like the best years of my life were all in the past. Reputation was the first time I’d had something to truly look forward to for almost a year. And it did. not. disappoint. Wow. That album was and is everything to me. With it, you reminded me once again to take control of my circumstances and take control of my life. I saw the reputation tour 11 times in 5 states and had the most fun and carefree summer of my adult life. THANK YOU for coming back to us and for helping me to find myself again because of it.

I don’t know what the future will hold or where I’ll be when your next album comes out, but I know it’ll be exactly what I need and when I need it.

I hope you know how special you are to me and how much I love you. I will always support you until the end of time. You are kindness and light and beauty beyond. You inspire me to be better every single day. I hope that you always remember your value and always remember how many people you have in your corner. You are so genuine and talented and smart and deserving of everything good.

Not to be dramatic, but I would literally die for you.

I could honestly go on forever about how much I love you, how wonderful you are, and how much you meant to me, but basically it all comes down to this: I love you I love you I love you I love you. Thank you. So much.

Love love love always,

Brittany

[regnbuereisen]

Day 4: Fredericksburg

We slept in today, because going on holiday is an exhausting affair :D Øyvind woke up before me (as usual), and by the time I was up and ready, we were both so hungry it was too late to go to the grocery store to buy ingredients for breakfast, so we ate at a cute, little place called City Café.

I finally got my pancakes! With eggs and bacon and corn syrup. Weird combo, but it was really good. The pancakes were big, though. Couldn’t finish them. X)

Øyvind got an omelette with vegetables - and we can safely say that the American obsession with cheese hasn’t lessened since we were here last. 

We meant to book a wine tour before we left Norway, but we both kinda forgot, so it was done in the last minute, after breakfast, and on the phone. Try spelling our names over the phone to an American. Yeah. We decided that when we’re here, Øyvind goes under Evan. It’s close enough.

So. Wine tour. Fredericksburg has a lot of wineries. And there’s a lot of companies that offers tours, but we went with Majesty Tour because they had available spots, and also they could pick us up so Øyvind didn’t have to drive. Our driver and guide, Logan, picked us up at 1.30pm, and off we went. Along with us, there were two more couples, so a total of six guests.

I firmly believe that Logan must be one of the most patient people on the planet. In fact, he needs to get an award! 

We had three wineries to visit, each serving 5-6 (small) glasses of wine, and it was amazing. The wine was good, the company was awkward at first, but after the first place we got to talking. Turns out Norway is as exotic to Americans as USA is to Norwegians. 

First stop was Four Point O Cellars, which is three wineries that has gone together to open a tasting room. The sherry was sublime - we bought a bottle to save for Christmas, and I bought a bottle of a white wine called Lily, that smelled of peaches, and I will happily drink it on the ranch in Bandera later.

Second stop was Texas Heritage Vineyards. The woman serving us was super cute, and had a lot of knowledge. It was so interesting talking to her! And they had the most amazing view from their patio. Bought a bottle of wine called The Troubadour’s Edge. It tasted of butterscotch fudge and was delicious.

Third stop was Bingham Family Vineyards, and the server, Hayley, made our experience. She had so many stories to tell, and I’m really exited to see her novel ready soon. I won the discussion here, as to which wine we were buying, so we ended up with a very nice, sweet Malvasia Bianca. I think it will be perfect with some fresh fruit. Or maybe chocolate.

I also liked the branding iron chandelier. Apparently they sold them in the next door shop, which I think was called Yee Haw Outfitters.

By now, most of us were getting a bit tipsy, except the couple from Houston, who started the day early, and were already tipsy when Logan picked them up at 1.30. 

After the tasting was done, we got a light snack, which was promptly compared to Lunchables. As a Norwegian, the concept is foreign, but it’s basically cheese and meat and crackers. It was good. Maybe because we were getting hugry after four+ hours of wine tasting, but we pretty much cleaned it out. 

Once we were done, Logan drove us back, and dropped us off at our respective places, with one stop along the way so Houston 1 and 2 could empty their stomachs in a nearby bush. Gotta make sure the local plant life gets enough nutrition. 

We named this photo “While the others are puking...” And felt very proud of our Viking genes. Poor Logan. He got a real job of cleaning his van afterwards, as both of the other couples had done their worst on the floor (and the seats).

Back at the mini house, we decided to make use of the hot tub outside on our patio. Today hasn’t been too warm (only around 30C), but still... The water was warm, but it’s something else being able to sit outside and just relax! I need one at home!

This morning we went to HEB and bought dinner and breakfast ingredients, because we’re smart and knew we weren’t able to drive to a restaurant after the wine tasting. So today dinner was sushi (delicious, and I forgot to take a photo, because we just about inhaled it), and a microwave dinner that I wasn’t too impressed by, but Øyvind seemed to like it.

So now we feel like real Americans: a microwave dinner in front of the TV.

Turning in early today too, because we’re heading further west tomorrow, to Alpine.

Today’s wildlife: grackles, a dead cicada (woopwoop), a lot of eagle type birds soaring over the fields, and a HUMMINGBIRD in the tree above our hot tub!!! I tried to photograph it, but it moved too fast.

[callmesatansprincess]

He’s Gonna Hate Me...

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word count: 4,998 (THIS MAKES ME WANT TO ADD 2 WORDS SOMEWHERE. My OCD is killing me over this lmao)

Warnings: Language, maybe? Sort of Fluffy Jensen?

A/N: This idea came to me randomly, so I wrote it. Finally finished it like two weeks after starting it. Sat here for like 20 minutes trying to figure out a title... ALSO. No hate to Danneel, I love her and their marriage so much. But the easiest way to do this for me was to have them never be married and none of their beautiful little babies be created.

Being back in Texas for a convention always made the boys a bit happier, a bit more carefree. The entire time they were in Texas they would be goofing off and spending most of their panels messing with each other instead of answering questions, but of course the fans didn’t mind, they all got a good laugh out of it. Right now it was Jensen, Jared and Y/N on stage; Y/N was sitting in between the boys, and the boys were a little tipsy, having been enjoying drinks most of the day.

Jared told a story about getting pulled over when Gen first visited Texas with him almost 8 years ago, right after season four ended. When the first girl had started to ask her question Jared asked her name, and then introduced the three of you, making you roll your eyes and Jensen just say “12 years”.

The girl had asked where the three of you would love to film an episode of the show, and being Jared who doesn’t ever actually listen, immediately yelled out Texas. A fan yelled out Idaho from somewhere in the crowd and without thinking Jared made an not-so-appropriate joke, and then apologized to all the parents in the crowd. When Jared says that he and Gen got married in Idaho, of course the immediate response from the fan is “I know” and Jared makes a weird face, making you laugh.

When Jensen goes to answer the question he confirms that the fan had said for an episode, to which Jared turns to her and says “I didn’t hear that part.”

Jensen makes a ‘oh really’ face and Y/N turns to him saying “Yeah, you’re talkin too much!” to which Jared starts to fake cry and a few fans yell out “no.”

“No, no, he was.” Jensen says making you giggle.

“There’s dirt in my eye.” Jared says, fake crying and wiping at his eye. Jensen starts to answer the question again until Jared interrupts him. Again. “I thought we were brothers man.”

“Actually, we’re not.” Jared just laughs and a fan yells out “be nice”. Immediately Y/N starts laughing as Jensen says, “Be nice? Have you met me?” Jensen goes on to answer the question, saying the Grand Canyon and then the boys look at you.

“Bali. Hawaii. Somewhere on a beach!” You say with a large smile, making Jensen laugh and shake his head.

When the next fan asks if you guys would be willing to do the show for the next 30 years, you motion to Jensen and say, “He’s gonna 80 in 30 years!” At first Jensen starts nodding and then he turns to you, his eyebrows furrowed in that adorable way that you love, he looks down at you like he’s mad but everyone knows he’s not. “Late 70’s. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Jensen just looks away, making you and Jared laugh. After a moment you started to feel nauseous so you tapped Jared’s shoulder, letting him know you would be right back and excusing yourself while Jensen talked to the fan about her question.

Kim and Richard are standing right off the stage in back, but you barely have time to notice them as you take off running for the bathroom, a hand pressed tightly over your mouth. They share a look of confusion and worry before Kim follows you. When she walks into the bathroom you’re leaving the stall, walking to the sink to wash your hands and rinse out your mouth.

“You alright kid?” She asks sweetly, a look of worry on her face.

“Yeah, just not feelin so hot today.” You said, drying off your hands.

“You wanna sit out the rest of today? I can let the boys know.” She offers and you immediately shake your head.

“No, I’ll be okay. I don’t wanna let them down or the fans down just because of some morning sickness.” You say without thinking, throwing the paper towel into the trash can.

“Morning sickness?” She asks and your eyes widen, realizing what you had just said.

“Uh, yeah.” You mumble, looking at her.

“Does Jensen know?” She asks and you start shaking your head again.

“No, and he’s not going to. Not right now.” You say quickly.

“He’s gonna realize something is up, Y/N.” She says sweetly, giving you a sad smile. You know she’s not judging you or your decision not to tell Jensen yet, she’s just worried about you, but it still upset you for some reason. Hormones.

“We aren’t even officially together, we were just screwing around, how am I supposed to tell him that I forgot to refill my birth-control and now I’m knocked up? This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Y/N starts ranting and Kim pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly as tears start falling down your cheeks. “He’s been my best friend for the last fifteen years, I don’t want to ruin that just because I made a stupid mistake.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’m not gonna say anything, and you don’t have to go tell him right now, but you should tell him soon.” Kim says, pulling back and wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“I know. Jared knows, he came to wake me up this morning and I immediately started puking so he figured it out. I’m just scared to tell Jensen.” You step over to the mirror, wiping the tears and stray eyeliner off your cheeks.

“Come on, let’s get you back out there.”

You walk back to the stage, Kim right beside you. Richard stops you to ask you if you’re okay and you just smile and nod, telling him you’re fine. You take your microphone from him as you hear the boys arguing about Jared using air quotes, making you giggle. You just stand there for a minute, watching Jensen as he explains how he and Jared got a tour of a building they use for filming some scenes. You just watch him for a moment, watching the expressions he makes as he tells the story and the way he talks with his hands, observing him like it would be your last chance to do so.

When Jensen is done with his ghost story, you walk back onto stage just as Jared says, “He’s like, if there’s any ghosts in here, they’ve seen the show they won’t mess with me.” This makes you laugh, the memory of Jensen saying those exact words with a cocky smirk on his lips crossing your mind. You take your seat in between them again and Jared just gives you a small smile as he turns to the next fan.

Jensen furrows his eyebrows, his bright green eyes full of worry and confusion as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Are you okay?” You just nod, giving him a smile as the next fan asks a question about grapes. Jensen lets it go for now, answering the fan’s question and arguing with Jared about frozen grapes. You just sit there, staring at your hands in your lap, your mind reeling.

The next fan comes up and asks if your characters had a warning label what would it say, and you start giggling, unable to control yourself. Jensen states that Dean’s would say “Feed Often or Else” and then says that Sam’s would be like a gremlin, “Don’t Get Wet”, which only makes you giggle more. When Jared says it would be “Might contain gas, don’t start fire”, you lose it. Jensen looks at you like you’ve gone absolutely insane.

“Yours would probably be, “Small but Psycho” Jensen says and you smack his arm.

“You love me.” You mutter, a large smile still on your face.

“Hey, it would work for your character and you though.” Jensen says, laughing.

“The really funny thing is,” Jared says glancing down at you, “Y/N is actually a lot like her character on the show.” The audience laughs.

“He’s not kidding.” You say, an amused smile on your lips. “So when I went in to audition for the part, they had me actually come to Vancouver and do the audition with Jensen and Jared. Bob had told me that it would be someone else reading lines with me and that’s how my audition would go, but I got to set and I was sitting in this room waiting to do my audition, in comes Jared and Jensen with smirks on their faces.”

“She fainted.” Jensen says and you smack his arm again.

“I did not faint! Stop telling people that! That wasn’t the first time that I was meeting either of you!” You say laughing. “Anyways, when I was auditioning for the part they told me, we don’t have a name for this character yet, we’re looking through a few names trying to decide which one we want to use so the boys are just gonna use your name for the audition, so I was just like uh, okay. This should be interesting.”

“She did amazing.” Jared says looking down at you with a smile.

“Considering the two of you were making funny faces and goofing off the entire time, I’d say I did pretty damn good!”

“So, side note, Jared and I went in there like oh, it’s some chick part, she’ll be on for an episode or two, whoever is here is gonna get the part, whatever. So we had decided to make it hard on her instead of waiting until she was actually on the show, just to show her what she was getting herself into. Not only did we not know that it was gonna be Y/N, which only made messing with her easier, but after they extended out how long her character was going to be on the show, Jeff made it very clear that he would help her get back at us. But we were making faces and saying lines that aren’t in the script, and just doing everything we can to mess with her without letting anyone else know we’re doing it. After about ten minutes of this, just out of nowhere, she stops what she’s saying mid-sentence and goes, can’t you two just be adults for five minutes?” Jensen admits with a small smile.

“She had a knife in her hand when she said it too, and not like a fake prop knife, but an actual very sharp knife, and she just pointed it at us.” Jared chimes in.

“That was when they gave me the part too. I was given the script within a few days and in the script they just used my name, I was just like alright, that’ll be easy to remember!” The audience laughs.

“She’ll make even the smallest movements or do something while we’re filming a scene that she doesn’t even realize she’s doing, and almost all of it works for her character. It’s sort of like they wrote this part for her.” Jensen jokes, looking down at you with a smile.

You turn to the next fan, giving her a smile and saying “Hi.” She answers with a hi, stating her name and then asking her question, asking what your favorite supernatural being to fight is. You just shrug, having been on the show for not even a year yet and mostly fighting demons, you didn’t really know what your favorite would be. Jared says the fairies, talking for a moment about the scene at the end when he pours the salt.

Jensen thinks for a moment, finally saying, “Ya know what, I’m gonna go with good, old fashioned ghosts.” The crowd cheers. “Vampires are just too easy. You just chop their heads off. You don’t even get to shoot em. Uhh-”

“You know what’s the easiest?” Jared cuts in and you and Jensen look at him, “Zombies. A baseball bat.” You start laughing, and Jared continues, “I mean if you can wear a scarf while killing a being, it’s really not that scary. One second, let me tighten my ascott.”

“You know how you deal with zombies, like those zombies.” Jensen says around his laughter. “Here, be a zombie for a second. Be a Walking Dead zombie” He says to Jared and you watch as they get up and Jared starts to act like a zombie, Jensen just walking away from him like it’s no big deal. “You just walk away!”

“True story.” Jared says as they walk back over to take their seats beside you. “I could totally be on Walking Dead!”

“I was scared for my life just now.” Jensen jokes.

“Where was my ascott?” Jensen laughs, and Jared turns to thank the fan for her question, then asks how his zombie was. Of course the crowd cheers him on.

“It was dead on.” Jensen says, looking back to the drummer. Jared pinches the bridge of his nose, laughing for a second.

“Yeah, it’s not called like the sprinting dead, or the running dead, it’s the Walking-” He stops to laugh. At this point you’re laughing so hard you can barely breathe.

“It’s the Walking Dead!” Jensen says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What do you do? You just walk faster.” He shrugs, a smirk on his lips. “Jeff’s gonna kill us.”

Jared laughs and says, “Yeah, that’s not the only thing he’s gonna kill you for.” You stop laughing, staring up at Jared with wide eyes as he continues to laugh. Jensen just looks between you and Jared, confused as to what Jared’s talking about. When Jared finally looks at you, his eyes widen as he realizes what he just said. He mumbles a “sorry”, you and Jensen the only ones able to hear it, a sheepish smile on his lips. Jared tries to fix his mistake, quickly turning to the next fan.

When she states that her question is for Jared and Jensen, asking if they could choose a happy ending for Sam, Dean and Cas, you zone out. You feel cold but there’s a sweat breaking out across your skin, your face pale and your cheeks rosy. You stay in your seat, willing yourself to keep down the bile that’s creeping up your throat so you don’t have to leave the stage again, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. You lean down to grab your bottle of water from the floor, Jared catching your arm when you almost fall and helping you to sit back up without really drawing any attention from anyone other than Jensen. Because of course Jensen had to notice.

The next girl that comes up of course has to direct her question towards you, and you only. First she asks why you chose to be on Supernatural instead of joining your dad on The Walking Dead, to which you quickly answer, “I love my dad but I don’t wanna work with him.” The audience laughs, as do Jared and Jensen. “My dad actually came by the set one day, just to see everyone I guess, or to spy on me, I don’t know. When he walked in we were in the middle of filming so he just kind of hung around until I was done. But that of course had to be the day when we were filming the scene where I was supposed to be kissing Jensen, or Dean, for the first time. Now if any of you remember that scene, that first kiss between my character and Dean was pretty hot and heavy, right?” The crowd sort of cheers. “Yeah, he wasn’t too happy about that.”

“He actually threatened me!” Jensen says laughing, “Told me there better not be any funny business between us. And of course, still being in character, my response was, ‘No sir, but I can’t stop what Dean Winchester does’. He didn’t like that too much.” You laugh, the memory of pulling your father away from Jensen before he punched him flashing through your mind.

“I hope that answers your question.” You say to the fan with a smile. Your smile falters as your stomach flips, but you push it down, determined to get through the rest of the panel. But when the next girl comes up and asks if you’re okay, saying that she noticed you looked a little off all day, the bile starts to rise up your throat again. You take another drink of your water, hoping it helps as Jensen starts to speak on your behalf.

“She’s been getting over a stomach bug for about a week.” Jensen says with a small smile, glancing at you to make sure you’re okay. You just nod your head, resting your bottle of water between your legs and picking up your microphone.

“Little over a week ago I started to get sick, just a nasty virus or something. But I’m doing better, slowly getting better. I got lucky filming this week because they only needed me for two days and they were both shorter-ish days.” You chuckle at the word you made up. “They also switched one of my days of filming with one of Jensen’s days so that I could get a bit more rest in between my two days, so I’m very thankful of them for that.”

“Well we’re glad you’re okay!” The girl says with a bright smile and you nod, giving her a smile in return. Jensen watches as you take another drink of your water, the feeling of acid rising up your throat only getting stronger.

The next girl comes up and asks about becoming an actress. Jared immediately says “Don’t do it” with a joking smile before turning the question to Jensen. Jensen turns to her, beginning to explain ways to help her follow her dreams. Then Jared starts giving her advice, telling her to constantly remind herself why she does it and why she loves acting, as it’s not an easy business. She says “thank you” and begins to walk away, Y/N sitting there giggling making Jared and Jensen both look at her.

“I guess I sort of had it easy.” You say glancing up at Jared with a chuckle. “Let me explain what exactly I mean by that. So, I definitely haven’t gotten every part I’ve auditioned for, I’ve been turned down quite a few times actually, and I honestly didn’t expect to get the part on Supernatural or for it to go on this long. I expected for them to kill me off within a few episodes or for me to be like Felicia or Kim where I come for an episode or two and then I’m not on the show for a season or two and then I come back, that sort of thing.”

“I guess they like you.” Jensen says with a wink.

“Anyways.” You say with a roll of your eyes. “Luckily, my last name is sort of common so I don’t always get recognized, but I’ve still had those auditions where I walk in and I tell them, my name is Y/F/N Morgan, I’m here to audition for yada, yada, whatever. And there are still the people that recognize my name and say, oh Morgan, you’re Jeffrey’s daughter. And either they set the standard really high because of the amazing actor that my father is and they expect me to live up to that, which is really hard sometimes. Or there are the auditions that I’ve gone to where they don’t really like the work my dad has done or they don’t like something about him, and they immediately think that I wouldn’t be a good fit for the part because of that, which is also really hard. And I’ve had one or two where they straight out told me, I love your father and I expected you to be better, which at one point I stopped acting because of that.”

“This industry isn’t easy.” Jared mumbles where only you and Jensen can hear him.

You nod, but keep speaking, “But, like with the audition for Supernatural, I’ve had directors and casting agents and producers call me or my agent, who is also my dad’s agent, and they’ll say something like, I know you’re father and I’ve seen some of your work and I’d like you to audition for this part that we’ve got. Which with Supernatural it was actually a call from my dad saying, they need a female for this small part, why don’t you go audition? Nobody knew it was gonna be Jeffrey’s daughter walking in to the audition until I got there, and how y’all didn’t put that together still astounds me.”

Jensen laughs, “I saw your name on some paper too, and I was like well that name sounds familiar, but it just did not cross my mind that you were gonna be the one to audition for the part.” This makes you laugh, shaking your head, but the movement makes you a little dizzy.

“This isn’t the easiest industry, and I had quit for a good five years, but I honestly wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. Although I did go to school and get my Bachelor’s in Nursing when I took that time off, I definitely would rather be doing this.” Jensen and Jared both just nod in agreement and the three of you turn to the next fan.

The next fan comes up and asks what the funniest moment Jared has had being a father, or a moment he’s most proud of, and Jared starts telling a story about Tom. You stand up, walking around Jensen to behind your chair and leaning on it, his eyes on you the entire time. Jensen leans over and whispers, “Are you okay?” and you nod, giving him a small smile.

“Just feeling sort of antsy I guess.” You say moving your legs a bit as you stand there.

“You look a little pale, are you sure you’re alright?” Jensen pushes and you sigh, rolling your eyes with an amused smile on your lips.

“Yes, dad, I’m fine.” You mutter, which makes Jared glance at the two of you with a raise eyebrow as he finishes his story.

“I don’t wanna know.” Jared says, his voice full of amusement, not realizing his microphone was still in front of his mouth. Immediately there’s ‘oooo’s coming from the audience, making you glare at Jared again.

“Shut up, Jared.” Jensen mutters, making you giggle.

Then the burn in your throat becomes stronger, and you can feel the bile making its way up again, making you start coughing and a sweat break out across your skin again. You drop your microphone into the chair, turning around and quickly making your way off stage. Kim rushes over to you with a small trash can, noticing you won’t be able to make it to the bathroom in time, and you immediately start puking again. “Fuck me.” You mutter, dry heaving, everything in your stomach already having been hurled up.

“That’s what got you into this mess, honey.” Kim teases with a small smile, trying to make you feel better. You laugh, walking over to a chair and sitting down, Kim following you with the trash can.

“You alright, Y/N?” Richard asks, his voice full of worry. You just nod, your eyes staying glued to the floor. “There’s only about fifteen minutes left of the panel, you wanna sit it out?” You nod again, gratefully accepting the cold bottle of water Kim hands you.

“Thank you.” You mumble, opening it and downing half of it.

For the next fifteen minutes you don’t move from that chair, just listening to the rest of the panel. Kim stays nearby in case you need anything, but otherwise leaves you to yourself. When you hear Richard and Rob run onto stage singing for the last question, you start to feel anxious, your leg beginning to bounce and a sweat breaking out across your skin again. Seven minutes later, Jared’s coming up on your left, his face colored with worry.

“Hey kid, you okay?” Jared asks, sitting beside you and rubbing slow circles across your upper back. You just nod, your throat feeling tight. “You’re gonna have to tell him, he knows somethin’s up.” Jared whispers and you can hear the sound of his boots on the floors, quickly getting closer to you.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jensen asks, crouching down right in front of you. You avoid his gaze, so he gently grabs your chin and makes you look at him. Your eyes are full of tears and there’s a few that have escaped down your cheeks. He grabs your hand without another word, leading you down the hallway to an empty room, pulling you inside and shutting the door behind you. “What’s going on, Y/N? What are you not telling me?”

More tears fall down your cheeks and you just stare at him for a moment, memorizing the way those beautiful green eyes shine in the dim lights of the room. The way his jaw clenches because he’s worried about you and becoming annoyed that you’re hiding something from him. The way his hands are clenching and unclenching in fists, as if to stop himself from reaching out for you. He takes a step closer to you, now standing only a foot away, reaching out and pushing the hair out of your face. He sighs, closing his eyes for a brief moment before they’re looking at you again, shining with an emotion you’ve never seen from him, one you can’t quite place.

“Please talk to me sweetheart, you know I’m always here for you.” He says sweetly, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“You’re gonna hate me, Jen.” You whisper, another tear falling down your cheek.

“I could never hate you, you’re my best friend.” Jensen whispers, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand.

You sigh, closing your eyes, “I-I’m pregnant.” Jensen freezes, just staring down at you for a moment. When you open your eyes you see that his eyes are wide and he’s frozen in his spot. His hand is now an inch away from your face and he’s just staring down at you, but it’s like he’s looking straight through you. “Jensen?” You whisper, trying to get his attention. “Please say something.”

“It-it’s mine, right?” Jensen suddenly asks, his voice monotone and void of any emotion, and his eyes still not completely focusing on you.

You scoff, angry at his accusation, glaring up at him. “Yes, Jensen, it is yours.” You snap and he slightly shakes his head, finally focusing on you, his green eyes locking with your Y/E/C ones.

“No, sweetheart, I didn’t mean it like that I just… Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair, slightly pulling on the ends in frustration, his eyes shut tight.

“Look, I know that this isn’t what you want, we were taking all the precautions to avoid this, but I fucked up on my pills and now I’m pregnant. I understand if you don’t want anything to do with this and I already have a meeting on Monday morning in Vancouver to talk about ending my contract because I can’t just give up this baby, but I won’t stick around and keep doing the show when-” Your babble is cut off by Jensen’s plump lips pressed firmly against yours, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls you against his chest. He moves his hands down, grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up, setting you on the edge of the table. He breaks the kiss, keeping his forehead pressed against yours.

“You really thought that I would hate you for this?” You shrug, avoiding his gaze. He puts two fingers under your chin, making you look up at him. “I could never hate you Y/N, especially not for this. This isn’t just your fault, it’s my fault too sweetheart, we did this together.”

“You’re really not upset?” You ask, searching his eyes.

“Well, this might be a little hard to explain to the fans but I’m sure we can figure it out.” He teases, making a small smile appear on your lips. “How could I possibly be upset by you telling me you’re pregnant with my baby? Sure, it’s not what we had planned, but we’ll get through this.” He presses another kiss to your lips, this one much softer and sweeter.

“I love you.” You whisper against his lips, making him smile.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He goes to kiss you again but someone knocks on the door, making both of you jump.

“Jense, we’ve got photo ops in five.” Jared calls from outside the door. Jensen helps you down from the table and takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he opens the door. Jared’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his lips. He glances down at your intertwined hands then up to you, smuggly saying, “Told you so.”

���Shut up Jared.” You mutter, not able to keep the small smile off your lips. Jared just laughs, walking behind you and Jensen to the photo ops. As soon as you enter the room Misha comes skipping toward you, looking like an overly excited puppy.

“Y/N, you and I have autographs with Mark.” Misha says, nobody yet to notice Jensen’s hand still intertwined with yours.

“Later sweetheart.” Jensen says leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, right there in front of everyone, including the line of fans waiting to have their photos taken with Jared and Jensen.

You just stare at him, completely shocked by his public display of affection.

“Jeff is so gonna kill you, dude.” Jared jokes, making you giggle and Jensen groan as Misha drags you off in one direction and Jared drags Jensen off in the other.

[geminimoonbeamx]

Retrograde: Part Two

A/N: Okay, y'all- here it is. My installation of 'Retrograde', a story I'm writing with one of my closest friends peacefulwriter88. I will be writing mostly for Beth Buckley- I hope you guys like her

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: As with all of my stories, there's a permanent warning of Cursing. I have a mouth like a sailor, and I express myself through the word Fuck.

Summary: After the initial meeting or the reader at the Gala, Beth reflects on her past.

As per usual, the gala had seemed to drain Beth of all the energy she had. Left her feeling shell-like, had her all but dragging her self up to the ritzy hotel room she was currently inhabiting during her stay in New York. One that she was hoping would be brief, not that she liked spending a prolonged amount of time anywhere these days-she thanked fuck, frequently, that she had a career that kept her up in the air, but New York City?

Yeah, she was always anxious to put these city lights in her rear view. Wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and these people...

Except Y/N, Beth thinks as she wipes off the layers of makeup off of her face. As she declutters herself of the "costume" she was used to donning at these parties. The ones that she had been forced to attend since before she could remember. Hair pins sticking uncomfortably against her skull and the pinch of designer heels on her feet were like second nature to her.

But finding someone that she could actually communicate to? That held her interest, who wanted to talk about something other then how expensive the wine they were drinking was. Someone who didn't small talk about the charity that they were donating thousands of dollars to, the same one they only knew two facts or so about... now that was a rarity.

As Beth collapses into the large, plush bed with plop. She stares at the ceiling. Zoning, allowing her mind to wander, to chase memories that she usually kept under lock and key. Ones filled with icy blue eyes and promises of a future that never came-

The night Beth met him, Carter Baizen-

The dull thump of pain that came from her chest, while painful, at least didn't make her physically flinch anymore.

-had gone something like tonight. A big, crowded party and a pretty dress.

And a boy who had turned her inside out.

It had been a musky June evening, the Texas heat unforgiving as ever and Beth had been cursing what ever non-native had planned the event as an outdoor excursion. The pale pink dress Beth had dawned for the night didn't breathe at all and she was sweating so much her hair had started to curl at the root. She made her rounds, dutifully, though. Kept a beaming smile on her face, forced awkward conversation through her teeth. The gossip flowing through her ears and sticking somewhere dark in her brain. She hated to admit it, but even she wasn't strong enough to resist the pull of juicy gossip.

She managed to make it through multiple rounds of drunk racists pretending that they gave a shit about kids before peeling herself away from the crowds and find a quiet corner where she could dissociate in peace.

Beth missed Bree, and she couldn't help but sulk as she sipped on the fizzy champagne. She still wasn't used to flying solo at these things- and as she stared at the thousand thread count dinner cloth, she thought of her cousin. What was she doing? Where was she- Bree had sent a few postcards here and there but in reality, the line of communication was all but dead between the two.

Beth didn't blame Bree for being pissed at her- if anything she was grudging through some serious self hate with the whole thing.

If only she wasn't such a pussy, if only she was as brave as Bree; she'd be touring around Europe too.

She was so wrapped up in herself that she almost didn't notice his approach. Him, in that dark suit, the one that's at fit him like a glove. The first couple buttons of his button down popped, leaving him with that casual aesthetic that he'd perfected over the years. Her eyes had trailed up his form, until moss green clashed with gun metal.

In retrospect, she thinks from that very first look- from the moment that they're eyes met, she'd been hooked. It's cliché and it nearly makes her gag now, but the way Carter had looked at her...like he'd actually seen her, in the haze of socialites and politicians.

Elisabeth Buckley had gone nineteen years being invisible- she was a good looking girl, but she was "big", round, plump. Overweight, so people overlooked her. She was smart, but not brilliant like her older brother. She wasn't business savvy like her many cousins and she wasn't charming like Beth. She was the plain Buckley cousin- they one who somehow managed to be boring, even though her very conception had been a scandal.

No one paid any attention to her, not really. And she had grown to be okay with that, flying under the radar was safe. It was comfortable.

But he smiled like sunshine- and flowers didn't bloom in the shade.

"You hiding out back here?" Carter had grinned and Beth had choked on the words, they got stuck in her throat in a way that left her flustered and feeling stupid. For Christ sake, she scolded herself.

"Um, kind of? I like to drink in peace...I also like to be able to hear myself think, so there's that" Beth could have slapped herself- could've shaken herself for being so damn awkward all the time.

Carter didn't seem to be deterred.

He nods, that half smirk not leaving his face as he sipped on his own drink "Quality time with your thoughts is always important...would you mind if I sat with you for a while? I, too, enjoy being able to hear myself think while I drink"

Beth's head tilted to the side slightly, as though she was analyzing him. Her thick brows pulling together and her pout quirking. Carter couldn't help the way his curiosity peaked. He'd never seen a person be so...transparent before. All of her emotions shown through on her face, the honesty in her hazel eyes startled him.

It was endearing.

It took his eyes flashing to the chair, the blue orbs coaxing her.

"Of course. I mean it's not like I own the place" Another mental face palm and a chuckle from Carter, and he was sitting next to her. She thought he'd take the seat across the table, but instead he'd sluffed down next to her, he didn't fail to notice the way she curled into herself, seeming almost shocked that he'd want to be near her.

It confuses him, it's not like she's unfortunate looking, Yeah, she could lose a few pounds, but she has nice hair. And those big, doe like green eyes border on hypnotic. From what he could see peeking out of the bottom of her dress- her legs we're curvy, attractive...

"I'm Carter- Carter Baizen" he introduced himself smoothly, holding out his hand for her to shake. Of course she knew who he was- even if she hadn't grown up in New York- all the influential families knew about eachother. She thinks she remembers him from one of her families many beach houses, a childhood vacation long past...

"I'm Beth. Nice to meet you, Carter"

"The pleasures all mine" He'd charmed and Beth remembers just how...awe inducing he was. How beautiful. The way that she'd blushed so hard, her cheekbones almost matched her hair color.

But even from that first meeting, he could tell that he'd have to be gentle with her. She looked ready to bolt. To get up and run away from him, and if there was one thing he was good at(although he'd probably offer that there were many), it was the way he could read people. Dissect them to their core. He had a gift, a knack for being able to peel away layers. Of saying exactly what people needed to hear.

And Beth made it easy.

She wanted to talk, was dying to give her opinion to anyone who would bother to listen to her for more then five seconds. And surprisingly, for him, he actually agreed with most of them. He didn't expect to ever be sitting and debating about the religious war in Israel or renewable energy sources. Fuck he hadn't even expected her to really even know what UNICEF stood for.

She was a Buckley after all- and they weren't known for being so...knowledgeable.

They end up talking, about anything and everything. Drinking until she's far past tipsy and his face is so warm and his inhibitions loose.

"Come for a walk with me" he suggests, already standing up "it's too stuffy in here- I can't breathe with your uncles ego taking up all the air in the room"

At that, Beth had let out a peel of laughter. One of her uncles had just given a twenty minute speech on the podium at the head of the gazebo and she's grimaced through the entire thing. It had been painful to watch.

"I can't" Beth had giggled airly, shaking her head. Her main of hair around her shoulders bouncing with the movement.

"Why not, what's stopping you?" Carters brow raised in challenge and it had stirred something in the pit of her stomach. Some sleeping fire, a rebellious spark just waiting to be ignited.

It was uncomfortable.

Scary, and new.

Beth chewed her overly plump bottom lip for a second, her face clearly set in uncertainty. Her internal struggle pellucid.

Carter extended his hand out, opening his palm and offering it to her, the way you'd offer a cornered dog a treat. Everything in his body language unthreatening and open.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Let's get out of here"

Beth's face skews up, her eyes shutting as though it will block the memory of his voice, of that name. As though she can shove it back.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Put it back away, because she's never admit it to anyone, but even after almost a decade, memories of him still had the abality to level her. To sucker punch her with such force, it was almost hard to breathe.

She wonders, she hopes, that one day all the therapy and growth she's been through since the whole ordeal will desensitize her, that she'll be able to think of those pretty pink lips and the silken lies that had come out of them and feel nothing.

It takes a rummage through the mini fridge, two shooters of J. Wray and turning on the TV, drowning out the sound of her own intrusive mind with bad reality TV. If she was sober-er, and gave herself more credit, she'd be proud that that was all it took these days to recover from thoughts of he who shall not be named. At one point, she was sure she'd never recover...

But that was a long time ago, and honestly, thoughts of Carter Baizen these days were few and far between. It was being in this fucking city that made them attack- knowing that she was in his stomping ground put her on red alert.

Sure, Beth knew that he was on business leave. She always made sure to stay clear of him, made sure their paths would never cross. Chuck Bass, although the villain in many a story, was actually a decent human being to her and would give her the heads up more times then not. He'd been working with the Buckley's for years, a partnership that was lucrative and didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.

She liked him, he was a required taste- but she actually enjoyed his presence. His wife and her gaggle of friends, well now, that was another story.

Beth isn't a fan of Blair Waldorf, and she knows the feelings mutual. She thinks the woman's the wicked witch of the Upper East Side and needs a heavy dose of "get the fuck over yourself" and Blair thinks she's a hick- no matter how traveled and cultured she may be. They both stay civil, Blair for her husbands buisness endeavors and Beth because...well, to be quite frank, she doesn't give a damn.

She'd grown up around Blair's, spent her entire life around people like that and she knew that the world was full of good people who countered the evil, self entitled people that lived in cities like this.

And well, there were worse people then Blair. People like Serena Van Der Woodsen and her husband, it was laughable that the two though they were anywhere close to decent humans. People like Donald Trump, and Taylor Swift and Harvey Weinstien. Like the entirety Ku Klux Clan(she wonders if she has any family members who hide under white masks, and then wonders if they'd happily burn her at the stake for her mixed heritage) and the guy who wrote Gangnam Style because it had been stuck in her head for the past five years and she was sick of it.

There were people like Carter...

But the world always balanced itself out, Beth had come to learn. And for all that bad, there was good.

She'd met you. You, who walked with your head held high in a world that still confused her even though she'd grown up in it, but that you managed to navigate with ease. You, who'd allowed her to shade pour hiding space, who had played silly games with her and never once called her childish.

Beth couldn't help it, she was still struck by you. She hadn't expected you to be so...down to earth. So real and tangible and relatable. Legada, and the material that your mother had created were reshaping the the face of the fashion industry. You literally had an empire behind you- the fucking possibilities were endless. There was a good chance in the next twenty years you'd surpass most of the centuries old money families in New York, be up there with Chanel and Versace...

Beth sniggers, drunkenly. You'd be richer then her grandfather. Oh, how she wished she could see his face on that day.

She'd given you her phone number before she'd made her exit from the party- a bold move on Beth's part. She was still very much that introverted teenage girl at times and although being forward, putting herself out there was a part of her job, being a journalist and all, she still sometimes couldn't help the nervousness that bubbled in her gut.

She'd prepared herself for your rejection.

And yet, you'd smiled radiantly and asked her for her phone, programming your number under Y/N, and telling her to call you sometime.

"We have to hang out sometime soon- I can't even remember the last time I had a conversation that wasn't about work or shoes or fucking luncheons- not that I don't love my work, I very much do...but you know. Sometimes it's fun to imagine being in a forced situation and having to decide who you'd rather fuck to live" You'd told her sincerely and she did know.

What it was like to love your job, to love your charity work and your family...

But to feel lonely in this world, one that you seemingly genetically weren't designed for.

Beth had promised she'd text, that you'd get lunch while she was still in the city for the next few days. And Beth wasn't one for breaking promises.

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[katbot]

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

This week’s Thirsty Thursday takes a peek into three different portions of my love life. I’ve been battling with the end game of this project, though it’s (hopefully) at least another 5 months in.

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

It’s been six weeks since my last date. Summer is cascading to an end.

Back from a weekend of Atlantic city debauchery, I decide to throw myself back in the game. I match with A, a 31 year old film maker. His pick up line is a snore. I call him out on it and within two back and forths we’ve switched to text. I’m a woman on a mission.

We decide upon Wednesday, in Harlem. A rare location but I’m vaguely still drunk from the night before; I can’t even entertain the idea of battling the heat without another shower.

I switch into shorts and a tee before grabbing a ten minute bus ride.

The bar is… A shit show.

It’s bingo night and the service is slow. I’m already judging this bloke based on his locale choices. I’ve been waiting for the bartender for about ten minutes when a tall man walks up and says my name.

He looks like a Costco brand version The Weekend. I’m on the fence about it until he opens his mouth for more than three seconds. He has an awful southern accent. When I finally get the bartender’s attention, I pay for the first round and usher us to the back patio.

It’s hot but bearable. He’s drinking a cocktail, me a Lagunitas.

He ask me about my weekend and I highlight the charitable aspect of it. He has the sleepy eyes of the Weekend paired with a defiant slouch. It reminds of a bratty kid in detention.

“Sorry. Am I boring you?” I cut myself off mid sentence, eventually too irritated continue

He apologizes then admits he’s tired.

I mean, I’m tired too but I’m here aren’t I?

I say nothing and he begins telling me about his weekend at Afropunk, a festival created to highlight black arts and music. He spent the past two days, filming it. I’m interested only because my sister has gone multiple times.

He perks up a bit, but I’ve already decided this is a waste of time. I think he can tell because he moves the topic to my profile.

“I love how blunt you are. Your profile says exactly like it is. I was worried I was getting catfish.”

Blunt. Everyone keeps saying that. I mean, I know I am – but I’m not sure it’s a compliment anymore.

“Yeah, I figure honesty is the best policy– Should I get another round?”

He picks up this one. I switch to a gin based cocktail and the conversation of video games. It’s fun, and I haven’t spoken in such detail about Metal Gear and FF3 in such a long time.

He keeps laughing and drops the sentence, “Wow I can’t believe I’m talking to a female about video games.”

It stops me in my tracks, I don’t know when female became a slang word but it’s the absolutely worst. I decide to bite my tongue giving him one more chance. I don’t wanna be relied up this late, I’ve got a drink date with Mike and my heat rash flares up when I’m angry.

We decide to go to one more bar, it’s a speak easy a few blocks down. A tells me about his problems growing up black in Texas. It’s super foreign to me. Growing up in NYC has protected me from many if not all race problems. I nod along feeling sympathy but not empathy. I tune out for a while, and wonder if my future husband will be from New York. They’re so many small nuances the city has built into me that I can’t make exceptions for.

We show up to the second bar, again I’m judging him. This isn’t a speak easy, it’s just a bar with no NAME. I hush my alcohol expert voice away and walk inside. It’s a cute bar but tiny. We grab two stools, right by the kitchen. The conversation is better, we switch to comparing Tinders, Music taste, and even our sex playlist. When I finish my first drink, I ask for a final round. When I look up, I can see he’s toasted. I’m shocked. We’ve had four cocktails….the word tipsy isn’t even in my vocabulary yet.

“You’re drunk.”

“Yeah…but I don’t want to go yet….do you wanna share a drink?”

I laugh. When he doesn’t join me I ask if he��s serious.

“Yeah,” he says. “I wouldn’t be able to finish one myself.”

“Um. Sure.”

He orders an egg white gin based cocktail that I’m positive come in a couplet.

When the waitress comes over and can’t answer if it comes in a couplet, I almost ask her to bring the glass to confirm my suspicions. I decide I’m being an asshole and let him order the drink.

It arrives in a couplet.

We share, this stupidly small drink that’s 90% egg white. I make my sips huge to end this abominable experience.

When the waitress comes around she ask how we liked it.

“Awful, may we have the check please?”

She’s taken aback, but delivers the check.

It sits there for two go rounds, the second time, the waitress picks it up and realizes there is no card down.

I can feel the vein popping out of my forehead, “Are YOU going to PAY for that?”

“Oh yeah.” A hurriedly digs into his wallet and puts down a bright orange card.

Outside, he tells me he doesn’t what the night to end. 

He’s making fuck me eyes, while I rather get punched by racoons.

Lessons learned: N/A  Rating: 3.5/10 App: Tinder

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

Mike shows up at my office unexpected. I hear shuffling feet stop right in front my of door, and when I look over, my heart explodes. I rush over for a hug and even on my tippy toes have no way of reaching the top of him.

We catch an uber to his apartment, which is a mess as per but it’s cozy. I’m stretch out on his couch, while his dog Yogi, yips around me. I love him. Before we head to the bar, I decide to take him for a walk, Mike and I catch up. It’s been almost two months since he left the office. We’ve been texting, but it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I forgot how much I’ve missed him.

We drop Yogs off, and head down to Floyd’s, the bar we had our first date in. I make a point to sit in the same exact seats, the universe rewards me because we have the same exact bartender. A few things are different though, I’m a lot less dressed up and a lot more relaxed. Mike and I have been friends for nearly 2 years now.

Built upon many drinks, political text, and basic whinging, we’ve become close friends. Even though, we were accidentally courting while he was on break from his long term girlfriend. I still remember the day I made my move. An uncountable amount of pints, skin tight leggings with perfect makeup, I reached across the table and grabbed for his hand.

“Well….You know how I feel about you…BUTTttt. I don’t know how you feel about me…?”

That night, he paid for our rounds, and we stood in the street trying to work out the past 5 months. He begged us to continue being friends, telling me how much our relationship had changed him, we went back to his to look at pictures of his family. He asked to walk me to the train and shook my head. When he asked if I was okay, I let out a choked “No.” and sobbed the whole way home.

“SO. I got fingered by a TRUMP SUPPORTER THIS WEEKEND.”

He laughs, “How’d you know? His technique?”

We shoot the shit for a couple of hours, but around eight. I can tell he’s tired. Mike’s my friend, but the more we drink, the more I can feel that deep appreaction for him sipping out

We head back to his, and walk Yogs one more time. When he drops off at the train, we both mention how much we miss each other.

I jokingly shout, “YA NOT GONNA GET RID OF ME THAT EASILY, MIKE.”

He screams back, “I DON’T WANT TO!!”

It brings a wistful smile to my mouth.

Rating: Omitted

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

K checks in to see if I’m still down for a drink. I’m on the train back from Mike’s. I forgot we vaguely made plans for tonight. I tell him, I’m leaving work and will be home in about 40 minutes. We arrange to meet on his campus. The 1 train is actually running on time, so I arrive early. I cut across the Columbia campus, texting him to meet me at a local bar called Arts & Crafts.

It’s crowded as fuck, so I head to the bathroom and text K - “Nevermind.”

But when I walk out, I bump into him. He’s holding two pints of beer.

“Fuck.”

“Sorry, I’d already ordered.”

Though, I rather a gin I take the light coloured pint and take a sip.

Yuck it’s a sour. The other is a stout. I’m confused why he ordered two different extremes. I settle on the sour and we grab a bar seat.

He’s cuter than I remember. My memories aren’t that old, considering he’s been texting me nonstop from Iceland. His paleness is still stark, and he’s blonder than ever but his scruff is a plus. We down our beers and head off to find a quieter bar.

I make fun of the college freshman tours mostly to cover for how old I’m currently feeling.

We split a bottle of red wine and I begin to slur. Somehow, probably due to me – we end up at another bar. It’s loud too, but we find a booth in the back that’s quiet.

I’m having an okay time. Drinking mostly to drown thoughts I don’t want to deal with. K is looking at me like I’m a piece of art again. My voice has melted down to a groggy sex drawl.

I like the way K splits drinks. I can pay for things, but most of the time he’s up. I’m all for feminism, but it makes me feel special when guys don’t mind being one or two drinks up.

“It’s good to see you again.”

He leans in for a kiss, it’s nice.

“Thanks you too. But y'know K. You’ve only met me twice.”

“Yes. That doesn’t mean I find you less interesting.”

There’s no hesitation in my voice when I say,

“I want to fuck you, right now, tonight.”

“I would like that.”

We try to find a hotel but I refused to pay 200 dollars in the middle of a night for anything less than a boutique hotel.

He’s sleeping on his friend’s couch, and my roommates are sleeping…

I lose the sex draw, and he pays for a cab back to mine.

He’s the second person I fuck in my tiny bed.

The planks cave in my under my mattress cave, but I don’t care.

He stays the night, despite me telling him I have to get up at seven.

In the morning, he buys me ice coffee and we take the train together.

When his stop arrives, I get up on my toes and we exchange a peck on the lips.

 His hand cupping my waist.

“Have a good day.”

When the train pulls off, I’m disturbed by how routine it felt.

I’m still not sure how I felt about K, but it’s 8am and I can hardly begin to unwrap that.

I blast Keane and flow along with the waves of the train, grateful it’s Friday.

Lessons learned: Try to go more with the flow Rating: 7/10 App: Tinder Extended.

[texastipsytours]

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Texas Tipsy Tours Featured Christmas Tour

Texas Tipsy Tours is proud to offer our first Christmas Tour, and without a doubt, we are doing it the Texas Hill Tour way! We wish to share this experience with you, too. We have coupled the Johnson City Lights experience with a wine tasting at Fall Creek and dinner at Salt Lick BBQ beforehand.