#reader x omc

THEN:

Adamson sighed down at the text on his phone. In the aftermath of his meeting with Reyes, the hospital CMO, he had forgotten that the new batch of residents and med students started today. Sighing again, he stepped off the elevator, catching sight of a group of unfamiliar faces huddled off to the side, and took a second to locate his other residents. Mentally cursing Singh for deciding to retire in the next couple of years and also deciding that 'it's going to be your job soon enough Monty, might as well get used to all aspects of it', Adamson headed to the nurses station, clapping a hand on the shoulder of each of his R4s, drawing their attention away from the newcomers.

Both men frowned at the look on his face. "No luck with Reyes?" Robby asked, crossing his arms. Emmett moved to mirror him,tilting his head. Adamson shook his head, "Unfortunately not. For now though, let's focus on the newbies. Where's Mercy?" Despite the obvious disappointment clinging to the two men, they straightened, Emmett gesturing toward one of the rooms. "She's already with a patient, a high priority from overnight." Adamson just nodded, moving to the group, "We'll catch up to her in a minute then."

Approaching the group, Adamson introduced himself, "I am Montgomery Adamson, I'm your senior attending, these are your senior residents, Emmett Kennedy and Michael Robinavitch, who goes by Robby," he indicated each man in turn," we have two R3s, only one of whom you will meet today, Jasmine Mercer, who is currently with a patient. You'll meet the chief attending tomorrow. For now, introduce yourself and then we'll get started."

Adamson watched as most the group just kinda glanced at each other, before you stepped forward and confidently introduced yourself as an intern and saw the interest grow on Robby and Emmett's faces. Great.

NOW

You took a deep breath, straightening your shoulders, before walking into the Pitt. Making your way past the registration desk, you waved at the women working and badged into the ER. At least the hustle and bustle was the same as back at Vandy, though you didn't remember it being this bad the last time you were here. Gloria had warned you about that though, along with a rundown of senior staff at the hospital and you were unsurprised that Dana was the charge nurse for day shift.The only other name that you had been familiar with still brought a bittersweet pang. Robby. You weren't sure what to expect there. Things had ended amicably enough, even if it did feel….unfinished.

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns" a voice called out across the ER, and you turned, breath catching and smile breaking out. "Robby." He was making his way toward you, Dana in tow. You reached up for a hug, and let out a light squeak when he wrapped his arms low around your waist, picking you up and giving a short squeeze. "Good to see some things never change you big lug", you squeezed back, realizing just how much you'd missed his hugs.

Setting you down when Dana swatted at him with a My turn, Robby stepped back, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. You grinned at Dana, wrapping her up in a hug just as tight. "I always knew that you were going to end up running this place" you teased, laughing when she replied "Now if only my paycheck reflected that. But, hey, what brings you by,huh? Emmett's going be bummed he missed you."

You felt that bittersweet pang again, carrying much of the same unfinishedness that Robby did. "Emmett's here, too? Wait, what do you mean 'what brings me by'?. Did Gloria not tell you?". Robby stiffened and frowned, shaking his head.

“Honey bun,” said your dad the next morning. He insisted on driving you in to work, even if you were fine to do so yourself. His voice was rough, laced with a lack of sleep. And he wondered where you got your morning grumpiness from. You grunted, sipping on your thermos filled with cold brew and ice. An affinity for black coffee was another thing you’d inherited from him.

“Father,” you mumbled, closing your eyes. Even though you were considered crew, you had a later start time to your day typically, normally a few hours after call time. You didn’t have to sit through hair and make up or do blocking after all. 

“Dost thou prefer to speaketh regarding young sire Foxe’s confession?” You rolled your eyes slowly, your dad chuckling deeply as he caught it in the side mirror. “You like my british accent.”

“That wasn’t british. That was butchering the english language,” you said, sitting upright, crossing your arms over your chest, snuggled up in a warm SPN crew hoodie you’d stolen years ago.

“I know Crew told you something very personal last night.” 

“He did. I’m assuming you knew about his family.” He hummed. 

“Episode one last season we’re in a car accident. He told me when I saw how shaken up he was at the end of that day. It’s not easy for him to share that. And the sad part is that the more well-known he gets, the more likely that information is going to get put out there without his consent.”

“That’s not guaranteed to happen,” you said, closing your eyes. “I know why you’re talking about this, dad.”

“I’m just saying, please be respectful of the information. That boy doesn’t need more heartbreak in his life.” You nodded, turning your head towards him.

“Crew’s your friend but you look out for him like a parent would, don’t you. You and mom.” He was quiet for a moment, parting his lips. “Dad. Come on. It’s obvious.”

“He is my friend. But this is a hard industry and I’d want someone to look out for you if I was gone. He deserves someone having his back. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” you said, glancing out the dark window again. “You and mom are good people, dad.”

“If you ever become a parent, you’ll know how much what you just said means to me,” he said quietly. 

“It was never your fault,” you said, still staring at the moving trees along the side of the highway. You hadn’t brought it up in years. You’d said it to him before but he had a tendency to shut down after you told him that. “Just like it wasn’t Crew’s fault.”

But this morning felt different. And you hoped he listened for once.

“I know it wasn’t, honey bun,” he whispered. “I just wish it never happened.”

“Me either but I want us to be able to talk about it because I recall doing a lot of talking and a lot more talking and you didn’t do any. It’s been a long time and one of us has a lot healthier way of dealing with it than the other.” A loud sigh filled the car, the air growing tense. “Dad.”

“Y/N. Enough. You know I’m hear to listen if you ever-”

“I thought you wanted us to be best friends again. Last I knew, best friends talked about shit like that with each other.”

“If I say I’ll talk to mom about it sometime will you drop it?” he said, voice harsher than he meant. 

“Fine,” you said quietly, glancing at him, his eyes focused on the road. “I get that I’m your kid but I’m not a little girl anymore. You can talk to me about her, about it, and I can handle it.”

“Leave her in the past where she belongs,” he said, words heavy. He was done talking about it until you were brave enough to bring it up again. 

But then he surprised you as he drove down an off ramp.

“I forgave myself for it a long time ago. No one could have changed a thing.” You sat up straight, giving him your attention. 

“Then why won’t you ever talk about it? I’ve thought you blamed yourself for years.” He smiled, a sad smile that made your gut ache.

“Because you don’t tell your child you hate their mother. You don’t raise a child to have hatred, even when it’s deserved. I love you too much to put that on you, make you cynical, afraid. But you’re right. You’re not a little girl and you’ve had some crappy life experiences all on your own. So the reason I never talked about how I felt is because I hate that bitch and I didn’t want my little girl to grow up with that. I wanted her to be understanding and have faith in the good in the world and to believe in the good crap. Why do you think I made you go to therapy as a kid? I needed to know that bitch didn’t put a dark mark on your heart that you’d carry with you. And maybe you thought I blamed myself but I will take your pity because that means you are kind and good and I did my job as a parent.”

You stared at him, his eyes hidden by the sides of his sunglasses but you felt him look in your direction. “I…thank you for telling me the truth.”

“You’re old enough to know,” he said. 

“For the record, I hate her too.” Now he was definitely looking, pulling to a stop at a sign, ignoring the line of cars behind him. He lifted his shades, worry in his green eyes. “I always understood her actions. But she hurt you and that pissed me off. As far as I’m concerned, all I ever had was you and Dee. You and my real mom. That woman that made me was an egg donor and that’s it. She never cared about either one of us and then she hurt you as much as me and the bitch can rot in hell for all I care.” 

“You always were protective of me, even when you were a kid,” he said softly, pulling his shades down and driving again. “You got that from me.”

“I got everything from you.” He reached over and ruffled your hair, trying to hide his grin. “You have to ruin the moment don’t you?”

“Absolutely. Far too sappy of a morning so far. So no more worrying about me alright?” he asked.

“Deal. Well, at least for that,” you said, his ruffling turning into a full on hair attack. “Dad! I have to work! I can’t look like shit!”

“Oh I’ll get one of the hair and makeup girls to fix it for you.” You huffed, pointing out the window at a building, earning a groan from him. “No.”

“Yes. You ruined my hair. Payback’s a bitch.”

“We get breakfast at work.” You crossed your arms, an overly dramatic sigh escaping him as he turned off the road and pulled into a parking spot. “Ten minutes. Max.”

“We’ll be in and out. Promise.”

“Good morning!” said Crew when you walked on set. You had your hood up, your hair still a hot mess while you sipped on your black coffee from dunkin donuts. You blinked slowly at him as your dad walked past you with a few boxes of munchkins. “I stopped at Starbucks on the way in. I could have-”

“This demon child doesn’t like starbucks. Something is wrong with her. Truly.”

“I like dunkin donuts. Black,” you mumbled as you noticed Crew was holding two cups in his hand, one of them filled with whipped cream and something syrupy looking. “What is that?”

“Uh…a peppermint mocha…for you,” he said, holding it out cautiously. “I knew you were coming in early today and thought you might like something special…” he trailed off as you stared at it. Carefully you took a lick of the whip cream as he held the cup, Crew’s eyes wide as you bent down and slowly straightened. 

“I like whip cream. But not in my coffee,” you said, offering a tired smile. “I’ll make an exception today.”

“Uh,” he repeated, still holding the cup. You held up your hands, a cup in one hand, boxes of mini donuts in the other. “Oh. Oh! Your hands are full. That makes more…sense.”

You grinned, blinking away the sleep in your eyes. “Did you think I was making a sexual gesture Crew?” You slipped past him and smirked. “What a filthy mind you have…” You turned and went back, licking at the whipped cream again.

“You’re fucking with me. Aren’t you.” You licked your lips, Crew watching the motion closely.

“Me? No, no. I’d never dream of it,” you said. “Thank you for the coffee Crew. You can leave it in hair and makeup. I’ll find it.”

“I’ll get you black next time. Extra whip cream.” You pouted but found yourself smiling, Crew returning it. “Later, kid.”

“Later, Foxe.”

It was a long day and you were actually quite grateful for Crew’s sugary coffee when it was night time and you were still shooting. There’d been issue after issue today that delayed filming but the crew appreciated the donuts you and your dad had brought in for a treat that morning. Your boss had told you that you could go home a few hours ago but you knew they were doing the big car stunt in the night and the shots of that would be great promotional material for the next season.

“Jensen. Crew,” called the director. Both of them hopped up from their seats in the tent shoved in an alley between buildings. You followed after with your camera around your neck, settling into where you wanted to be for your shots. You were past the camera rigging and after discussing with stunts earlier, you knew where a safe place to stand would be as the car drove past you.

But while you watched the two of them take their marks in the middle of the road, something nagged at your gut. You glanced over your shoulder at the stunt car, eyeing it suspiciously while the director and a producer talked to Crew and your dad much farther down the street.

“Hi,” you said to the stunt driver, the man giving you a tired nod. “How’s the car running?”

“Hm?”

“How’s the car handling? I imagine it’s much rougher than a normal car.”

“Stunt cars are normally bare bones. They get beat to shit,” he said. “You’re the new photographer? Jensen’s kid?”

“Yeah,” you said, holding up the camera. “You mind if I get a few shots of you and the car for behind the scenes stuff?”

“Go for it,” he said. You didn’t bother to pose him and he didn’t seem to mind given it was close to midnight and this was his last shot of the night. He did give you a strange look though when you got down on the ground and took a picture of the undercarriage. “I’m getting the signal. I got to go.”

You let him get in the car as you sat back on your knees, glancing through your photos. You quickly stood and walked in front of the car, the guy getting halfway out. “Kid, you can’t stand there. You have to-”

“You know who’s in charge of the stunt cars?” He stared at you like you were an idiot. “Who is in charge of the stunt cars?”

“Y/N! Get out of the damn way!” shouted a producer from down the street. 

“Not until I can talk to whoever is in charge of these cars!” you shouted back. Suddenly the director, two producers, someone from stunts and both Jensen and Crew were headed your way.

“It’s your funeral,” muttered the stunt guy, shutting the door and leaning back against it. 

“What the hell is going on? Get out of the way, Ackles,” said the producer. 

“Over my dead body I move,” you said, waiting until everyone was within earshot, ignoring the producer that was growing louder and more impatient with each passing second.

“Jensen deal with your fucking child,” said that producer when your dad got closer. His eyebrows shot up, a dry laugh escaping him. “I’m not joking. She only got this job-”

“She got this job because she’s a good photographer, dickhead,” said your boss who’d jogged over. 

“Now that’s the second time in two days you’ve insulted her. First it was yesterday when a fucking safety protocol was missed. Granted, it was a minor one but she could have been seriously injured and now today-”

“She’s holding up a fucking scene! We only have an hour before we have to pay everyone-”

“Are you worried about fucking overtime right now?” barked back your dad. “This is not the first time I have-”

“Don’t you pull that lead actor shit on me, pretty boy. I was doing this when-”

“Oh, don’t start, Todd. You have a history of harassing younger staff and I never wanted you to join this season.”

“I fucking knew it was you who-”

“Y/N, why won’t you move?” asked Crew calmly.

“She’s a diva like her father,” said the producer.

“She’s doing us a fucking favor filling in last second like she is, putting her own business on hold for it. Show some damn respect,” said your boss.

“She’s holding up a scene!” shouted the producer.

“Because the air smells like fish oil,” you said. The producer threw up his hands as your dad and the stunt coordinator stared at you. 

“Whoopey-di-fucking-doo. There’s stale fish in a trash-”

“Leaking break fluid smells like fish oil,” you said, turning around your camera, showing them the screen. “And that is a leak, forming a puddle under this car you were about to drive at your two lead actors at high speed.”

“That’s bullshit. That’s-”

“She’s right,” said the stunt coordinator, wiping a hand over his face. “That’s what that smell is.”

“How the fuck does she know-”

“My diva father taught me on our muscle car. But I’m just a diva photographer that only got this job because of her daddy, right? What do I know?” you said, giving the producer your best bitch face. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Crew trying to hide a smile while your dad wore the one on his face proudly. 

“I…” said the producer, turning to the stunt coordinator. “This is your fault.”

“This was an accident. You have a flaw in your safety check with the stunt cars. All you have to do is fix it,” you said calmly. “But the way you spoke to me this morning and then now-”

“What the fuck did he say to you this morning?” said your dad.

“He told me I wasted time yesterday and I wouldn’t be paid for the full day.”

“You told a union member you were docking her pay?” said your boss.

“She’s not in the fucking union. She’s-”

“She joined the union when she was in college during an internship and she kept up her dues,” said your dad, turning to your boss. “I’m not a manager but it sounds like he crossed a line with your union employee.”

“I was just-”

“There are rules for a reason, to protect employees from assholes like you. She had a medical emergency, caused by this fucking set. You’re lucky she’s not suing,” said your dad.

“You’re fired.” Everyone turned to the other producer who hadn’t said a word, his eyes locked onto Todd’s. “You’ve been on the job a week and I’ve already had too many complaints from young employees about you. Now you threaten to illegally dock pay. Pack up your shit and leave. You’ll get a nice compensation package so just fucking leave.”

Todd didn’t say a word as he walked away. It was only then that you realized Crew had come up to your side, his hand on your lower back steadying you when you breathed deeply.

“Sorry for my language,” you said quietly, glancing down.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Y/N,” said the producer. “And I’m making an executive decision. No stunts with vehicles until every single one of them is checked and extra precautions are taken going forward.”

“We can make the scene work without that one shot,” said the director. “We already have the one of the stunt guys. Jensen and Crew will just show a bit more emotion on their faces when we cut to them lying in the road, right guys?”

“Of course,” said Crew, your dad giving a nod as he looked at you. 

“Sorry,” you said again. He shook his head with a smile.

“Don’t apologize. God, don’t apologize for standing up for Crew and mine’s safety. You did the right thing,” said your dad.

“I could have just said something and not…now you’re down a producer and it’s my fault. I-” 

“He made his own bed. As a producer we’re all responsible for on set safety and he tried to pass the buck onto stunts. I’m Nolan by the way and if photography ever doesn’t do it for you anymore, consider management because you sure as shit got the backbone for it.”

“Uh, thank you,” you said, pursing your lips. “So uh, can we go back to work so the rest of the crew isn’t awkwardly staring at us anymore?”

“I think that’s a good idea. We’ll need to write up an incident report but we can do that in the morning with fresh eyes,” said Nolan. “Nice catch, Y/N.”

“Hey,” said your dad when he and Crew guided you to walk with them down the street towards where they’d want to be filming now. “How’d you smell that fluid from so far away? I didn’t notice until we were next to the car.”

“I didn’t. I had a funny feeling something was off so I made an excuse to get closer to the car. Then I noticed the smell and took a picture underneath and saw the leak,” you said. 

“She’s always had a sixth sense about that sort of thing,” he said to Crew.

“I guess this means I owe you coffee every morning for like, ever?” joked Crew. 

“I’ll settle for you guys being okay,” you said, closing your eyes. “I have to find a new spot to shoot from. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Honey bun.” You stopped in your tracks, spinning around. “Proud of you for trusting your instincts and standing up for us and yourself.”

“I second that like, a gajillion times,” said Crew. 

“Thanks guys. Now get back to work so we can all get home.”

“Alright, alright,” you heard as you woke up that night, about three hours after you’d finished work. You must have been screaming, eyes screwed tight as you clutched your blankets to your chest. The bed dipped behind you and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso. “I got you, baby. Daddy’s here. You’re safe.”

“I should have told you I didn’t want to go to the park,” you said, fighting back tears, your heart thundering. “I had the same feeling I had tonight but I didn’t listen.”

“You were seven years old, honey bun. You never did a single thing wrong.” He shushed you, the door creaking and shutting gently. 

“I woke you up. You’re so tired and you have work,” you whined, burying your face in your pillow, hiding away from him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come on,” he said, releasing you for only a moment before you were back in his arms and he was carrying you along with your blankets out of the room and down the hall. 

“I’m twenty five, dad,” you cried, tucking your face into his neck. “You don’t have to do this anymore.”

“And I don’t give a shit how old you are. I’m not leaving you alone tonight. End of discussion.” You fisted a hand in his shirt, wetting it, not opening your eyes as you were tucked between his warm body and your mom’s in their bed. Gentle fingers ran over your head, more sobs wracking your body. “Talk to us. Come on, baby. You know it’ll help.”

“You could have died and Crew could have died and it would have been my fault cause I thought something was wrong. You got hurt when I didn’t listen to it before,” you said, trying to pull the blankets over your head but he wouldn’t let you. “If I’d listened when I was a kid it wouldn’t have happened and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I got you hurt and the only reason I was brave enough to say anything tonight was because I was so scared of it happening again.”

Suddenly you werre pulled upright, two strong hands on your arms, forcing you to stare at your dad. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your nose was a mess as you watched him shake his head. 

“That bitch hurt the both of us. You were the child and I was the adult. It was never on you to protect me. It never will be. I’m the one that failed you. I failed you and you never saw me as the bad guy. As the pathetic man I thought I was. You never made me feel less than even when I deserved it. Because you love me. Because it wasn’t my fault you’d tell me. It was hers. And I believed you. I clung to the word of that seven year old and I still do. If I can believe you, then you can believe me. Neither one of us could have stopped it. And I’m goddamn proud of you for protecting Crew and me tonight. I know you hated that, hated standing up like that to people with so much control. You weren’t brave because you were afraid of me being hurt. You were brave because you know you’ll risk getting hurt to do the right thing. You’ll risk your job to make sure I’m okay. Because you care. You have been a brave little badass since you were seven years old. I will never be afraid of you not standing up for yourself or other people. So stand up for yourself, Y/N. It was not your fault. You were not supposed to stop the unstoppable.”

You sniffled, feeling small and like you were that little girl again, spending the night in his bed, terrified to leave his side, him terrified to leave yours.

He wiped off your face with his palms, tucking your hair behind your ears, running his hand over your head. “Tell me you believe me, honey bun.”

“I do,” you said quietly, a barely there smile on his face. Your mom hugged your from behind as he pulled you both into his chest. “Do I have to go to therapy again?”

“Because you have one nightmare after a hard night? No. And you make those choices now, not us,” he said, kissing the top of your head. 

“How can you love someone who’s half someone you hate?” you asked, resting your chin on his shoulder. 

“You are genetically half hers. But that’s it. The rest of you is all me, all Dee. I’ll love you with every ounce of my soul until the day I die and every day of wherever I go after that too. Blood doesn’t automatically mean family. Not at all.”

“I know,” you whispered, reaching an arm back to hug your mom. “I’m glad you taught me about Baby even though I complained the whole time.”

“Me too. And Crew.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” you asked. “Cause of the accident and everything.”

“He’s alright, I made sure before I left him tonight.” You nodded, your heart finally calming. 

The next thing you knew you were waking up in the middle of their king sized bed alone, stretching as you saw the clock was close to eight, mom dropping the other guys off at school. You snuggled back down into the bed, clutching a pillow to your chest when the door opened.

“Hey,” said your dad, lightly patting your cheek. “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.”

“Unless you’ve made me eggs and bacon, that is a cruel greeting,” you groaned, blinking open your eyes to find him walking across the room towards his closet in a towel and with damp hair. “You have far more trust in that towel than I do.”

“You do realize you’ve seen me naked only several thousand times? I was a single father for a while you know.”

“Remember when I asked why you had a tail,” you giggled. “I thought you were part dog or something. Like a werewolf.”

“I remember when you kicked me in the nuts so hard I nearly passed out in the tub. Nearly ensured you were my only heir,” he chuckled from inside the closet.

“You were a good dad back then too,” you said, hearing the sound of clothes shifting stop. “I mean, you took baths with me and let me sleep in your bed and took me to school and you did everything, even when you must have been exhausted.”

“I was young and I was not perfect. I know that. You probably know it too. But I wasn’t striving for perfection. If you were clean and fed and happy and safe, I was happy too.” He stepped out of the closet in a pair of jeans and a black henley t-shirt, crossing his arms. “It helped having a good kid. Made things easier.”

“I am pretty amazing,” you said, yawing and closing your eyes again.

“And so modest too,” he said, slapping your thigh. “Up or I’ll tell Karl Urban you think he’s hot.”

You immediately sat up, giving him a death glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“How about Josh Duhmel? Stephen Amell? We can tell Quaid you think he’s a cutie with a cute ass. I got a whole laundry list of famous people I know that you think are hot. Your move.”

“You’re evil, father,” you said, gathering up your blankets and walking for the door. “But I respect it.”

“I need to pass along my evil tendencies to at least one of you,” he chuckled, catching the edge of your blanket, stopping you halfway out the door. You glanced up at him, his green eyes soft. “You okay?”

“Thanks for making me talk about it,” you said. He pulled you into a hug, kissing your temple. “Father.”

“Daughter.”

“I appreciate the moment but I really need to go pee, like now.” He released you and you took off down the hall. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

“So be ready to go in twenty. Got it.”

_______

The air is decently chilly for an autumn afternoon; the wind blows gently and ruffles your hair. Leaves tumble by as the breeze carries them, and you can feel winter slowly approaching. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and continue walking towards the little string of shops near your apartment complex.

You eye the stores as you pass by, looking to see if you can find anything of interest. Between the antique shop and the bookstore that’s been there for who knows how long is a small coffee shop. You cup your hands around your eyes as you peek through the glass, hoping to get a better view of the interior. The windows are slightly foggy due to the weather, but you can make out the few people inside and the light yellow glow coming from the lamps on the ceiling. Deeming it necessary for some warmth, you head inside.

The bell above the door chimes as you walk in, and you take a look around the store. It’s not as big as you expected; the lights are a bit dim and only a few tables line the walls. The people inside consist of a teenage couple, who appear to be flirting shamelessly with each other, and an older man perched on his chair in the corner reading a newspaper.

Quickly observing the patrons, you walk up to the counter. You smile at the barista and order a coffee to-go. Once he disappears into the back, you once again look around the small shop. A tall man enters at this time, and the two of you smile at each other politely.

The barista promptly returns with your coffee in hand, and you bid him a thank you and a goodbye. Turning around a bit too quickly, you run into the person standing too close behind you.

Your scalding coffee spills on both of your shirts and you curse simultaneously.

“Shit.”

“Dammit.”

Ready to yell, you look up and meet each other’s eyes. You realize that you ran into the man who entered the shop just a moment ago. Studying him for a few moments, you notice that he has green eyes that somehow manage to sparkle despite the dim coffee shop lighting. His dark blond hair is styled in soft spikes, and light freckles dust his nose and upper cheeks, making his masculine face have a slight boyishness to it.

A few moments pass before you break the silence, suddenly remembering the burning coffee that’s currently decorating your shirts.

“I am so sorry,” you apologize, grabbing napkins to clean the two of you up.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ve always wanted to try the whole I-just-spilled-coffee-on-my-shirt trend anyway,” he chuckles, looking down at the giant brown mess on his Henley.

You laugh a little at his joke and extend your hand towards him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Dean,” he says simply, shaking your hand.

Once again, the two of you just gaze at each other for a few moments, hands still clasped together and neither of you saying a word.

The bell above the cafe’s door chimes, and you and Dean are brought back to reality, both dropping the other’s hand.

“I-I should probably get going,” you stutter, blushing and pointing to the door.

“Y-yeah. I should probably order my drink,” he replies.

“Yeah, okay.” You start backing up towards the door. “Bye, Dean.”

“Bye, Y/N.” He waves, and you exit the store, no longer thinking about the drink you needed a few minutes ago. Instead, you’re thinking of the green-eyed man that you just recently acquainted.

~~~

You hurriedly return home, hoping to get your soiled shirt in the wash before the stain sets. You immediately change out of your shirt, put on your pajamas, and start the load of laundry. Deciding to relax for the rest of the night, you put a movie on the TV and head to the kitchen.

With the film playing in the background, you hum and put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, reminiscing about the events that occurred only an hour ago.

The microwave beeps, and you pull out the popcorn bag. You pour it out into a bowl and walk to the living room, already munching on your freshly made snack. You plop yourself down on the couch and quickly become engrossed in the movie.

You continue to watch film after film late into the night. You’re in the middle of some cheesy rom-com when you hear the sound of the apartment door being unlocked.

Andrew not-so-quietly stumbles into the apartment, nearly tripping over his shoes.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greets you, slurring his words slightly.

Looking at the clock, you respond, “You do realize that it’s three in the morning, right? Where the hell were you?”

“Babe, you don’t have to worry. I was just out at the bar with some friends. We drank a few beers, played some pool, y’know, normal bar stuff,” he assures you.

“Okay… uh, do you wanna go to bed now?” you ask tentatively.

“Yeah, sure,” he answers simply, stripping off his dirty clothes as he makes his way to your shared bedroom.

You can’t help but sigh to yourself as you follow behind him.

~~~

For the next few days, you and Andrew continue to become more and more distant with each other. He’s going out more often, you’re spending time alone when he’s out--nothing’s really working anymore.

It’s been a week since your encounter with Dean, and you still can’t get him off your mind. Now that Andrew seems to be in the apartment less and less, you can’t help but to think of the handsome stranger.

You’ve been lying awake in bed for about ten minutes, Andrew sleeping beside you with his arm slung across your stomach, when you hear him begin to stir. He tosses and turns in the bed, ruffling the sheets with each movement. He finally settles, spooning your back. You sigh and try to wake your snoring boyfriend.

“Hey, Andrew,” you whisper as you lightly tap his arm. “I’m gonna get up and run some errands.”

He groans in response, clearly not fully conscious. You sigh and remove his arm from around your stomach. Getting up, you stretch and groggily trod to the bathroom.

You swiftly get dressed, grab your keys and your purse, and walk out to the car. It’s now slowly shifting into winter. The temperature has been dropping rather quickly, and the trees are continuing to lose their leaves. A large gust of wind cuts through the air, and you try to wrap your jacket tighter around your torso. You jog to your car and hurriedly turn on the heat, waiting for your car to warm up before pulling out of the parking lot.

Entering the grocery store, you grab a basket and begin to peruse the aisles. You place a box of Lucky Charms in your basket and notice a familiar-looking man out of your periphery. Chancing a glance at him, you observe that he hasn’t seen you yet. You look back at the cereals, now studying them rather intently. Taking a deep breath, you gather up your courage and walk over to him.

“Hey, uh, Dean?”

He looks up at you, and a smile immediately spreads across his face. “Y/N! Hey, how’s it been?”

“Pretty good, actually,” you reply.

“Did you ever get the coffee out of your shirt?” you ask him with a small chuckle.

His eyes cast to the ground and he grins, shaking his head. “No,” he replies. “But now it kinda matches the rest of my wardrobe, so it all worked out.”

The two of you laugh at his remark.

“So,” you begin. “What’ve you been up to lately?”

“Nothing exciting, to be honest. I’ve been working at my uncle’s garage. Not exactly glamorous, but y’know, work’s work.” Dean shrugs.

“You happen to work at Singer Auto?” He nods. “Do you know a guy named Andrew?”

Dean rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, sure do. Let me tell ya, he’s one hell of a guy,” he scoffs.

“He’s, uh, actually my boyfriend.” You press your lips together.

“Oh.” Dean raises his eyebrows. “Well then, let’s just forget that I ever said anything,” he apologizes.

“No, no, no. It’s fine. He’s been having a rough couple of days, so it’s completely understandable,” you assure him.

“More like a rough couple’a weeks,” he mumbles.

“Anyway, what’re your plans for this weekend?” you ask, choosing to ignore his statement.

"I was just getting to that,” Dean says, returning to his usual behavior. “I'm getting together with some friends on Saturday. Maybe you wanna join us?"

You stare back at him for a few moments, slightly caught off-guard.

"If you want to, that is. I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to do," he quickly adds, waving both hands in front of himself.

"Actually... yeah. I'd love to." You smile genuinely.

"Great," Dean beams. "Uh..." He pats his pockets, searching for something. He pulls out a pen and grins at you. "Here's my number." He grabs the box of cereal from your basket and hastily scribbles his phone number on the top corner.

Dean hands the box back to you. "See you around, Y/N." He walks backwards, waving goodbye, and disappears down another aisle. 

“Y/N,” said your dad, catching you before you headed to bed that night. “Come here a sec.”

You followed him down to his office, watching him open the bottom drawer of his desk and take out a box.

“I was thinking since Crew is spending Christmas with us and it’s his first one in a while, I wanted to give him something he’d really like.” He took off the lid and pulled out a photo album book, one of those one’s you could make from an app on your phone. “I know you could have made one that looked nicer-”

“Dad he’ll love this,” you said, flipping through the book. There were a number of pictures from set last year and this one, ones from nights out during the promo tour and private dinners and days off with the cast and crew. A few more pages in you saw one of yourself and Crew in the distance, both of you laughing way too hard. 

“I thought that was cute. I didn’t have a lot of the two of you but I snuck in as many as I could.”

“This is a great present dad. He deserves to have someone looking out for him.”

“I know he does, honey bun. Holidays are hard for him so he’ll probably be a bit quiet when we go up to the cabin, maybe want to be by himself a bit. We should give him his space when he wants it but make sure he knows we want him included.”

“Of course,” you said, handing him back the book.

“You’re okay with that? Crew doing family things with us?” You rolled your eyes. “Just checking.”

You turned to leave, his finger curling in the back of your hoodie, stopping you in your tracks. “Father…”

“Daughter. Talk to me,” he said, patting the top of his desk. You pursed your lips and sat on top, crossing your legs. “Anymore nightmares lately?”

“Nope.” 

“You sure?”

“Yes. I know I freaked out but-”

“Hey,” he said softly. “It was a scary night and we both know that can make the nightmares come back. I’m just asking if you’re good.”

“Yes…” you trailed off, his expression cautious. Did he know about you and Crew somehow? “Dad. What aren’t you telling me?”

He sighed and lowered his head. “Abigail was released yesterday. She got parole.”

“She what?” A flood of anger rushed through your veins, your dad standing and hugging you where you sat. “How the fuck does a child kidnapper get parole after only eighteen years? She’s supposed to be in there sixty. She’s not supposed to be out.”

“I know,” he said quietly, kissing the top of your head. “I know. I found out last week she was being let out. I didn’t want to ruin your Thanksgiving or work promotion.”

“Why are you telling me? You would hide this from me,” you said. 

“She made contact through the lawyers. She wants to meet us both. Apologize.”

“She can shove her apology up her ass.” He nodded, holding your body tight for a moment, neither one of you breathing. “Is she going to bother us?”

“The lawyer has concerns.” You dropped your head against his chest, breathing deeply. “Her parole was triggered based on some advocacy group doing work for a number of…it doesn’t matter. The law says she should have been placed in an institution, not a prison. That didn’t happen so she goes-”

“Is this because I didn’t testify?” 

“No, baby,” he said, running his hand over your head. “She’s just very good at being who she wants people to think she is.”

“Let’s meet her.” He pulled back, his head already shaking. “She doesn’t get to control our lives anymore. She was the bad one, not us. The show is done filming next week before winter break and you and I can fly out to LA for a few hours to meet her. We can make it very clear she needs to stay the hell away from us.”

“We can’t threaten her. She’s served her time. If it got back to her lawyer-“

“I’m not saying we do that. I’m just saying we tell her she has no place in our lives and we judge her reaction. See if she’s still obsessed or not. It’s better than staying here and being afraid.” He sat down in his chair, taking hold of your hands when you held them out to him. “Dad. I know you wouldn’t tell me unless you were scared of her coming back. So let’s go find out.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I. But she doesn’t get to have control over us anymore. Hire some security to be there undercover to make you feel better.” 

He bit his bottom lip but nodded. “I need to know. Otherwise I’m going to want to keep a guard on you for the rest of your life and I know that’s not realistic.”

“Maybe she’s different,” you whispered. He raised his head, green eyes meeting yours.

“People like her don’t change,” he said, lightly touching your cheek. “I’ll go. You stay here.”

“Daddy. You aren’t seeing her alone.”

“Why are you calling me that?” he whispered, voice raw. 

“Because I need you to listen to me. She hurt us both. She violated you. If you don’t let me go, then mom will and mom will knock her ass on the floor before she even has a chance to open her mouth because we aren’t letting you go alone.”

“You have a point,” he chuckled, nodding his head. “Okay. You have as much of a right to make this decision as I do. But if you change your mind at any time, you can walk away.”

“So can you.” He smiled, letting you slide off the desk and pull him to his feet. “We should tell mom we’re going.”

He winced, suddenly dragging his feet. You got behind him and pushed, walking him down the hall. “We could always wait until morning?”

“Nope. We’re telling her our decision so you don’t chicken out on me in the morning.”

“Mom is scary,” he said just as she rounded the entrance to the hall, hands on her hips. 

“Why exactly am I scary?” She glanced between the two of you, eyes narrowing. “What are you up to?”

“Dad would love to tell you, wouldn’t he?”

“Traitor.”

Saturday

“You’re sure it’s safe?” asked Crew after your photoshoot session with him. He’d known about you and your dad’s trip to LA next Saturday since Tuesday but without fail, he brought it up every day, leery of you going.

“Crew Taylor Foxe. For the last time an armed bodyguard, two of them, will be with us when we meet her. It’s very safe,” you said. He slipped his hand in yours as you entered a secluded trail in the park, running his thumb over your skin. Soft little giggles started to leave his lips, your hand touching his forehead. “Please tell me you don’t have heat stroke or something.”

“Taylor huh? Did someone go on my IMDB page?” he laughed. 

“I was doing research on your past headshots!” you said as he kept on giggling. You took off his ball cap and attempted to give him a noogie. Only Crew easily kept you at bay, pulling his hat brim down over your eyes and proceeding to tickle you. “Crew!”

“Oh you knew it-” The rapid fire of a camera shutter made you both freeze. “Hey!”

“Just doing my job, man,” said a male voice. There were footsteps and you felt shade on you, Crew moving in front of you while you kept your head low. “Who’s the-”

“Delete the photo or I’ll have you arrested.”

“You can’t have me-”

“State law. It’s illegal in Texas to take voyeur style photos, like those from someone hiding around the corner, without the subjects consent. Fucking google it. Now,” Crew demanded. The man was silent, Crew moving a few steps away from you. 

“Mr. Foxe I have a job I-”

“You want pictures of me? Take them at promotional events where you have my permission for use. Take another picture of me in this state without my explicit permission, which you do not have either of ours, and I’ll sick every damn lawyer I have access to on you and whatever agency you work for.”

There were footsteps and Crew walked further away. You spun around, putting a hand over your face as your back was to them.

“I deleted it, alright?” said the paparazzi. “You can back off.”

“Go back to LA. I see you again, I’ll charge you with stalking.” Crew’s hand was quickly on your lower back, walking you back the way you’d come. “I am so sorry.”

“Crew it’s fine. People have been taking pictures of me without permission forever. And he should know the law. It’s different here than in Cali.”

“I know. Your dad told me about it when I moved here. But we have a problem. That pap might not have a picture but he has a story to tell.”

“Fuck,” you said, stopping in your tracks. “He’s going to leak that you have a girlfriend. Or…we just let him say what he says and anyone that asks we call him a liar. He’s sketchy anyways right?”

“But he’s technically not a liar,” he said. “Crap. I didn’t realize it’d be this hard to keep it a secret.”

“I have an idea if you trust me.” 

“You don’t even have to ask.” You gave his hand a squeeze and quickly walked the two of you back towards where the paparazzi was, currently wiping off the sweat on his forehead. “Hi.”

He jumped at the noise, watching you lift the brim of Crew’s hat. “Wait. You’re Ackles kid. You two-”

“Do you like photography?” He blinked a few times as you held up your camera from around your neck. “Do you like photography?”

“Uh, yeah. Obviously.” You stepped closer, still holding it up. “I said I wouldn’t take a picture. But this is a story I can sell.”

“Show me the best photo you’ve got on your camera.” He stared and you turned yours around, showing him a picture of Crew being goofy when you were setting up shots earlier. “This is the best one on mine right now. Subjectively speaking. There’s much better ones but this is my favorite. What’s yours?”

He waited a moment before pressing through some buttons on his camera, showing you the screen. It was of the Austin sunset over the city, bats flying out from under one of the bridges. 

“That’s a gorgeous shot,” you said. He nodded, letting his camera rest against his torso again. 

“Sorry kids but I got bills and shit like this doesn’t get me a paycheck.”

“I understand. But your talent is wasted on taking blurry pictures of celebrities. You could easily do still work. You work in freaking LA. There’s countless studios that need them.”

“And there’s a million more guys like me that want those jobs. In the real world, this is how I get paid.” You nodded, going back to Crew. “Why’d you show me your face?”

“Because before I was a faceless woman. Now I’m Y/N, a real person that you telling this story will affect. So sell your story. Go ahead. Call your boss or whoever right now. Just have the decency to look me in the face like a man when you make money off of me and someone I care about.”

His gaze lowered as he wiped more sweat off of his brow. “Alright, alright. I won’t say shit. Happy?”

“Very. Oh and word of advice? Shop that picture around to some of the galleries in town before you leave. Some rich bastard would love to have something like that in their fancy ass loft apartment downtown.”

“I ain’t going to make more than a hundred bucks on something like that,” he said.

“Dude when’s the last time you did research on the market? That picture on large scale canvas or printing with marketing rights to the owner? You’re looking closer to five hundred minimum. There’s a ton of food places that would love a shot like that too. Do a time cost analysis and you’ll see you’ll save time and make more money doing your own work rather than taking pictures of people for cash.”

“You’re serious?”

“She had a very successful photography business in Atlanta. It’s possible if you put in the work,” said Crew, grabbing your hand.

“You’re not just bullshitting me so I don’t sell your story right?”

Twenty minutes later you were walking away from Jake, Crew shaking his head and smiling as you. “What?”

“How the hell did you get that guy to not only not sell a profitable story but also develop a rough business plan with him for his own startup in less than thirty minutes?”

“You get further with honey then spice.”

“Yeah but you’re spicy honey, kid,” he chuckled. He squeezed your hand before dropping it, voices in the distance carrying down the trail. “I mean it. You’re kind in a way people need more of in their lives.”

“I’m not always kind, Crew. I’m just deeply protective of the people I care about. Sometimes you do that with a battering ram, sometimes with a gentle touch.”

“I could learn with doing that gentle touch more often,” he said quietly. You shook your head, Crew fixing his hat you still wore. “I got angry when he took that picture of us. And I’m angry with the idea of your egg donor being near you again. I just…I need to know you’ll be safe.”

“Your protectiveness is an attractive quality, Crew. There’s a difference between anger and violence. People forget that. You were not violent with that pap, only angry, only protective. My dad would never let me near her without knowing I’m safe, that we both are. You might not think it but you are simultaneously the most gentle and strong man I’ve ever met.”

“Ever?” he asked. You hummed. “Even your dad?”

You bit your bottom lip, looking up coyly under the brim of his hat at him. “You really are awful at flirting.”

He started to laugh, smiling as you shook your head. “Yeah, I am. Let’s bring cocky Crew back to save me.”

“What would cocky Crew have said to that?” you asked, Crew tapping his chin with a devilish smile.

“Oh, he’d probably say something like looks like you got a new number one man in your life.” You rolled your eyes, Crew giggling. “You put me on the spot!”

“He’s number one dad love. You get number one…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. Crew quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you off the trail and into the treeline behind a bush. You stared up at him, his dark brown eyes boring into yours. “Crew.”

“Don’t freak out on me,” he said. He leaned in close, brushing his lips over yours. “I love you. It’s not puppy love. It’s not a crush. I know what this is and what it isn’t and I love you, Y/N. I miss you every day when I’m not with you. I miss you when I’ve spent the whole day with you. When I saw you for the first time, I was gone. I knew exactly who I wanted to be with forever and I know it’s insane and you probably think I’m insane and you’re going to run away and think I’m a freak but-”

“God we need to work on your self-esteem. Now stop talking and fucking kiss me because I love you too you nervous idiot.” He slammed his lips to yours, hand gently gripping the back of your neck as you moved your mouths together. He was warm, tongue slowly devouring you, gently teasing before finding it’s confidence and taking ownership of the kiss.

“I might be an idiot but this idiot caught you,” he grinned, brushing his nose against yours, tickling your cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Unless you’re too proud to admit it.”

“You caught me a long time ago, Crew,” you whispered. 

“Good,” he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Cause you caught me the second I laid eyes on you. It’s about time we were even.”

“Such a dork,” you laughed, heart swelling up and instantly easing as he embraced you in his arms. “Honey?”

“Kid.” He hummed, squeezing you tighter.

“I’m so proud of you for risking your heart again after everything you’ve been through. I’ll be gentle with it, I promise.”

“I trust you,” he whispered. “You have all my pieces and I know it’s because you’re the one that’ll keep them safe.” He smiled, shaking his head. “God, I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Crew.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I’m not. I can tell you anything. But it’s so strange. You’re the only person in the world I feel like I could say the stupidest, dumbest, most cliche shit and you’re not going to think I’m a loser.”

“You’re a loser because you’re a fan of the Kansas City Chiefs, not because you’re open with your feelings.” He chuckled, the deep rumble of his chest reverberating through your body.

“Being a romantic? That’s a plus but my football team is what is questionable?” he laughed.

“We’re a Cowboys family, Mr. Foxe. You best learn that,” you said, Crew picking you straight up so you were eye level with him. 

“Oh I’ll convert you. I can be very convincing,” he said, pressing his lips to yours. “Plus I won’t ever let you down if you don’t say Chiefs are the best team in the history of the universe so…”

“There’s the fatal flaw in your plan, Crew. I happen to like the view up here,” you teased. He immediately set you down and peeled himself away. “No! Not fair!”

“Shouldn’t have told me what you like, kid,” he laughed, taking hold of your hand. “I suppose you can like that awful team. I can’t expect you to be completely perfect after all.”

“God no. Perfectionism has no place in this relationship. It’s like you and your enjoyment of, what was it you were trying to get me to eat last night?”

“Excuse me but cow tongue is delicious when prepared correctly.” You stared at him, shaking your head. “It’s amazing.”

“You’re psychotic but I love you anyways,” you said, Crew grinning like an idiot. “Oh? Does someone like when I say that?”

“Yeah, he does.” He slid his hands down to your hips, tilting his head. “Stay over tonight.”

“Okay.” You leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose. “Crew.”

“Next year. I’m still nervous about going to Christmas in the first place. If we tell Jensen and it gets awkward, I don’t know if I can handle all of that at once.” 

“Hey. I’m all for waiting until we’re both comfortable. It’s our business and no one else's. Just wondering if you still wanted to hit up the brewery today?”

“Yeah and then I want to take you to dinner at this hole in the wall place I found. Matt, our key grip, he was telling me about it. I’m pretty sure even you don’t know about it,” he said, proudly turning his chin up. 

“Oh well let’s see if it lives up to the hype, hm?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

One Week Later

“What’s the name of this place again?” asked your dad as you walked through the airport in LA. You fixed your backpack, your dad’s slung over one of his shoulders. 

“Asador. It’s a little taco place and it is officially in my top three tacos I’ve ever had.” 

“Damn. It must be good then,” he said as you approached a familiar pickup spot in the airport, multiple drivers standing around holding signs or ipads with names on them. You both paused, glancing the line before you saw your name. You took a step when he caught your backpack, gaze going to meet his. “Are you sure you want to see Abigail? I can do this on my own.”

“I’m sure,” you said with a nod, even if your stomach felt queasy. “It’s not for a few hours right?”

“No,” he said, walking over to the man holding up a sign. You followed him outside to where two different SUVs were parked, large men in plain clothes inside. He held up a finger to the driver with a smile, the driver nodding and leaving you alone. “I promised my agent I’d get a lunch with him in person and go over a few opportunities. It’s probably going to take a little while and be boring as hell. Why don’t you take my card and go shopping?”

You glanced over your shoulder at the second SUV, the man behind the wheel sporting sunglasses and a flat expression. “Dad. Tell me you didn’t actually hire private security for this trip.”

“I won’t tell you then,” he said, patting you towards the car, slipping his credit card into your jeans pocket. “Go have fun for a few hours. The guys will drive you to meet up with me when we talk to Abigail.”

“Fine.” You pointed a finger at him, poking him in the chest. “But only because you have them too it looks like and I know you’re overprotective and this makes you feel better.”

“Honey bun.” He smiled, his face soft. “It’s not just so I feel better. You don’t have to feel scared for a second while we’re here, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, closing your eyes, slowly opening them. “Will they take me wherever I want to go?”

“Yup. They are there for peace of mind only.”

“Maybe we’ll go to the beach, let me take some shots,” you said, reaching into your backpack, pulling out your camera bag.

“Knock your socks off. I got to run, sweetie. I’ll meet up with you soon and then we’ll go, alright?”

“Later,” you said as he pecked a kiss to your temple and hopping into his SUV after you’d opened your back door. Inside there were three large men in jeans and t shirts, one wearing a light hoodie. “Hi.”

“Ms. Ackles,” said the other one in the back, reaching out a hand to take your bag. You handed him your backpack and slid inside, taking a deep breath. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“The beach maybe. You guys have any good suggestions for places to take some good pictures?” you asked, holding up your camera. They seemed to communicate silently before the one in the driver’s seat cracked a smile. 

“Yeah, I think we can come up with something.”

“This is great,” you said, standing on the roof of the guy’s building. Their agency was a few floor downs but you had an amazing shot of the skyline and hollywood sign. Gratefully the air was clearer than usual and you were able to get some gorgeous pictures of the city from above. 

When you were finished you stood up, stretching slightly, turning to find them sat up on top of some ledge, laughing to themselves. You snapped a quick picture of them, all three suddenly tensing. “Don’t worry, bodyguards. I’m not going to do anything with it but send you a nice picture of you guys in an email.”

“Worrying is kind of our default state,” chuckled Rodger as he hopped down to the roof with ease. 

“Even on safe jobs,” said Tony, Kit rolling his eyes. 

“We all know we’re here cause your dad is the worrier,” he said to which you hummed. “See? She knows there’s no danger.”

“We still act professionally in front of a client, Kit,” said Rodger who if you had to guess, was the one in charge of this little group. All three looked to be in their mid thirties and as fit as any male celebrity and then some. “Ms. Ackles-”

“No. God no,” you said, shaking your head. “Y/N please. And my dad already told me you guys are just here to make us both feel better so please don’t be formal. I’m stuck with you guys for a few more hours so I’d rather it not be incredibly awkward, you know?”

“I’m with her,” said Tony. “It’s an easy job for once. We’ll do an appropriate amount of worrying, Rodger, and show Y/N around to a few places to take pictures like she wants. Sound good?”

“As long as we stop and get some lunch from somewhere along the way, it’s good with me,” said Kit. 

“My treat. Where do we want to grab lunch?” you asked. Rodger sighed but smiled. “Your pick, buddy.”

“Alright. Alright. I suppose I could go for a bite.”

Three Hours Later

“Kit.” He hummed from behind the wheel. “Do you know where we’re supposed to meet my dad? I think we need to meet my…meet Abigail soon.”

The cheery mood in the car evaporated, all three of them suddenly closed off.

“Guys?” You turned to Rodger sat beside you, his gaze hidden behind a pair of dark shades as he stared out the window. “What’s going on?”

“Mr. Ackles instructed us to accompany you today,” said Kit. You narrowed your eyes, checking the clock on the dash.

“And that’s what you’ve done and now we need to go meet my birth mom.”

“We were instructed to drop you off at Santa Monica Pier at five.”

“But the meeting with Abigail is at three.” None of them looked at you as you put a hand on the door. The sound of it locking echoed in the small space. “Someone tell me what’s going on now. Where’s my dad?”

“Perfectly safe with his team,” said Tony. You growled, Rodger lifting the shades off his head, giving you his full attention.

“Your father was set to meet with Abigail shortly after your flight landed. The team has been sending us updates. He is perfectly safe. The rest is for him to tell you.”

You breathed hard, shaking your head. “You three are not here for his peace of mind or mine. You’re fucking babysitters so I didn’t go to that meeting.”

“We are private security to a client that hired us for peace of mind. We are not your babysitters.”

“Then take me to this meeting right now.”

“It’s over already.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared out your window. “Kit. Take us to the pier.”

“Hey kiddo.” You wiped your eyes from where you sat on the sand hours later, camera settled by your side. The guys were close by but giving you your space, Kit only daring to come over once to bring you a bottle of water. Your dad sat beside you, sighing and stretching out his legs. “I understand your anger and that I hurt you.”

“I am not a little girl. I am a grown woman. I have a job and pay taxes and have sex and orgasms and drink and swear and I’m a damn adult,” you spat out, whipping your head around, surprised to see him smiling. “What are you so happy about?”

“You’re strong. I’m proud of that.” You lost some of your fury, lowering your head to your chest. “I know you are not a child and I’m sorry if you think that’s what I was doing today.”

“What exactly were you doing?” you shot back. “Going to see that awful woman alone? Was that your genius plan?”

“My job as your father is to protect you and that doesn’t stop just because you’re an adult. And trust me, as much as I want to protect you from it all, I can’t and don’t. You need to make your own mistakes, have shit happen to you so you can learn from it. But Y/N, I need you to understand that while I respect you as an adult that makes her own choices, I swore I would never let you near that woman again. You want to be pissed, go right ahead but I will take a pissed off daughter that is safe over one that is scared and could get hurt any day.”

You sighed, lightly punching his arm. “I’m not stupid, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me safe. But you’re the one she was obsessed with. You shouldn’t have gone by yourself.”

“I wasn’t. I had about five guys with me.” You glanced over your shoulder, Rodger and Kit talking with a group of similarly jacked looking guys. “I didn’t tell you everything. Parents do that.”

“Dad. What happened today?” He leaned back, palms digging into the sand as he took in the warmth from the setting sun. “Is it over?”

“Yup,” he said, popping his ‘p’. “You don’t have to worry about Abigail again.”

“Please tell me the truth? I think I’m owed that for being left in the dark.” 

“Y/N,” he said, closing his eyes, tilting his head back. “I’m sorry for tricking you today, honey bun. But you are as stubborn as me and it was the only way I could guarantee you were okay.”

You sat back and rested your head against his shoulder. “You’re not going to tell me, are you.”

“I met with her along with an undercover detective posing as a friend. She said some things that confirmed our suspicions. Those things in turn were a violation of her parole. The detective and lawyer said it’ll be revoked and she’ll need to finish her original sentencing.”

You turned your head up, his eyes still closed. “She had to have done something really bad today, something illegal.”

“She did something bad when she got out…and she was planning to do something bad today. She doesn't like either one of us very much.”

“She’s going back to prison for sure?”

“The second she contacted me I called the lawyer and we called the police here. They’ve been watching her all week. They could have made a case on what she did but it was stronger by having me go to the meeting with her.” He sat up, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “We’re okay, I promise.”

“If it was truly that bad-”

“Y/N.” He sighed deeply. “She wanted to try a ransom again and that is as much detail as I am ever giving you. Please respect that.”

“Okay,” you said, holding up your hands. “I just…”

“I know. I wouldn’t have done what I did today unless it was perfectly safe.”

“Might I ask why that one bodyguard guy back there looks a hell of a lot like you?” He groaned, throwing his head back. “It wasn’t safe, was it. That guy pretended to be you at the meet.”

“That one is actually a cop,” he said, running a hand over his face. “Fine. Yes, they didn’t want me to meet her in person for safety reasons. But they got what they needed and she’s back behind bars. It’s airtight.”

“It’s not entrapment?”

“No. That was one of my first questions. Just…just forget today happened. She’s gone and you never have to think about her again.”

“What about when she’s like ninety and gets released and she’s still psycho?” you asked, half-joking.

“Then I’ll get you some really hot bodyguard in his twenties to follow you around and make your husband jealous.” 

“I’m okay with this,” you said, your dad chuckling. He pulled you into a hug, holding on tight. “Promise me if you won’t talk to me about the whole truth you’ll tell someone?”

“Mom knows but yeah, I can promise that.” He inhaled sharply, running his thumb over your cheek. “I’m so sorry Abigail turned out the way she did. A woman that doesn’t want to be a mother is one thing. Being cruel is another. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You didn’t deserve to be taken advantage of or hurt like you were. We can agree she’s awful and never waste another breath on her.”

“I second that,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “So. I got us a reservation for dinner at your favorite restaurant before our flight back just in case you were still pissed.”

“You’re a smart man,” you said as you stood up, brushing yourself off. 

“Food always fixes your mother right up when she’s mad,” he laughed. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“Oh yeah,” you said, handing him back his credit card. “You bought my Christmas present today.”

He froze, narrowing his eyes. “You went to the Nikon store again, didn’t you.”

“Don’t you wish I liked heels?” you teased before grabbing his hand and heading towards the guys, your backpack still with them. “It’s the Sigma ultra wide angle, F2.8 aperture-”

“Well you can’t have it until Christmas,” he said. 

“But think of all the wonderful pre-Christmas memories I could make with it if I had it now?” you asked, your dad’s jaw tight. “Please? For being a liar liar pants on fire today?”

“First off, I made the right call. Second, now that I know you really want it, I might have to hoard it until your birthday.” Your jaw dropped, turning his grimace into a smile. “Be good for Santa and maybe you’ll get it Christmas Eve.”

“Fine. But Santa could throw in some money for my photoshop subscription to appease me?”

“Such a needy child,” he laughed. “Yeah, he can swing that. Anything else you want?”

“I’m good. But we should get Crew something nice, his first holiday and all,” you said, a little grateful you had some time alone today to do some shopping for him without any watchful eyes.

“I got Crew’s present handled. You find your own,” he said, ruffling your hair. “He’s your best friend. Just ask him what he wants. That’s what I told him to do for you when he tried to pick my brain.”

You had to hide your blush at the idea of Crew trying to figure out what to get for you. 

“You want to grab dinner now?” he asked, shaking you from your thoughts. 

“Yeah. Sounds good to me, dad.”

_______

It was late afternoon when you found yourself out back with your dad, his computer in his lap as he laid back in one of the lounge chairs under the porch. You were by the edge of the yard, camera focused on a lady bug hanging out on the edge of leaf. A few clicks of it went off before the little thing decided to fly away.

You spun around, taking a candid one of him working away, probably responding to several thousand emails if you had to guess.

“Y/N,” he chided without looking. “What’d I tell you about taking pictures without people’s approval?”

“Hey. This would go great on your insta,” you said, snapping another picture when he gave you a bitch face.

“I just had to buy you that camera when you were a kid, didn’t I.” He patted the end of the lounger and tucked his feet up, typing out another message as you walked over.

“Blame yourself. I would have been an accountant if you hadn’t pushed me to try photography as a job.” He closed his computer, setting it down on the small side table. 

“That’s what I get for being a good parent,” he chuckled as you sat down cross legged to face him. “Two things. One, I would really appreciate it if you gave Crew the friends and family discount for his pictures.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s your friend. Of course I will. I was just messing with him.”

“Good. He normally doesn’t warm up to people so fast but he’s pretty relaxed around you.”

“Are you trying to set me up on a play date with him?” you scoffed. He shook his head. “Is he some weirdo loner or something? Both you and mom have said-”

“Crew went through a bad breakup last year. He lost a lot of his friends over it. He’s kind of on his own. He reminds me of a certain someone else in that way,” he said, nudging your knee with his foot. You glanced at the taupe cushioned space between you, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know you didn’t go out with friends last night, Y/N. Why did you lie?”

“This falls under the privacy thing we talked about.”

“This falls under I’m your father and I can damn well know what happened to you to make all your friends disappear.” You lifted your chin and faced him. He wouldn’t drop this. Not when he was like this. He’d wrestle you to the damn grass and get it out of you if he had to. 

Stubbornness unfortunately ran in the family.

“What happened with Anthony, kiddo?” he asked. 

“You know he cheated,” you mumbled. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yes, but something else happened. You don’t lose all your friends if-”

“They weren’t my friends! They were his. All my high school friends are gone from Austin or I haven’t spoken to them since graduation. My college friends were all Anthony’s friends. I was just too stupid at the time to realize, to realize he’d been cheating on me our entire seven fucking year relationship. That he only wanted to marry me so he could divorce me once I got my trust and get a whole bunch of money. I came home because I was alone. The only reason I went out last night is because I see you and mom looking at each other like something’s wrong with me cause I spend my nights at home and-”

“Sh,” he said, pulling you straight into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. Sniffles filled the air as you realized you were crying, staining the shoulder of his t-shirt. He stroked his hand over your head, shushing you for a few moments. “God I wish you didn’t bottle shit up like me.”

“I was embarrassed,” you whispered, closing your eyes, hiding away in him. “I thought you thought I was weird or anti-social when I came home. I just…I got so used to Anthony doing things with his friends without me all the time in Atlanta and I buried myself in my work and-”

“One good friend is worth more than a thousand bad ones. You are not weird. I mean, you are, but in healthy ways, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing.”

“I know but…” you trailed off. “I miss when we used to talk.”

“We were so close when you were in high school. I thought you grew up and got sick of me was all.” You shook your head, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “Well, it’s not true that you have no friends, you know. You got mom and your sisters and brother. Your whole family and I’d really like if we could be best friends again too.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head, hugging him tightly. 

“And you got Crew and that boy doesn’t make friends easily. I know you don’t have as big a social battery as most but there is not a damn thing wrong with that or with you. You need to cut yourself a break because Anthony and his friends are scumbags that are not worth a second of your time.” 

“Thanks dad,” you murmured, a heaviness in your body floating away. “And thank you for letting me come back home.”

“This place will always be your home. No matter where that is, you always have a place with us.”

“Especially since rent in Austin is obnoxious and you won’t let me live in anything in my budget,” you laughed.

“True,” he chuckled. “But, and you can tell me to shove it, I’d like it if you stuck around home for a bit. I don’t want you going off on your own until I know you can be okay by yourself again.”

“I’m actually kind of scared to live alone. I know that’s such a girl thing but I don’t…want to live by myself. I can pay rent or-”

“You clean up after yourself, you help around the house and you help trudge the other three around when it doesn’t inconvenience your work and you can stay here until you’re a hundred and thirty seven. I draw the line at a hundred and thirty eight, though.” You rolled your eyes, his large hand ruffling your head. “So. No more moping over the dickhead?”

“No more moping,” you said, giving him another hug before his arms loosened and you stood up. “What you said about Crew…”

“He’ll tell you in his own time if he wants. Just know he could use a friend right now.” You hummed, picking up your camera. “Send me that picture. I’ll tell all my followers you forced me to post it.”

“Knowing you, you will.”

“Y/N…” he chided as you turned to head inside. “Don’t get in the habit of working on the weekends. Trust me on that.”

“I know,” you said, taking a step and getting tsked. “Dad, please don’t ask me how the business is doing.”

“I know starting over in Austin set you back. You doing okay?” he asked. 

“Well if you really want to know, it’s none of your business,” you said with a smile, patting his head. “Later pops.”

“If I find out you’re not doing okay-”

“Dad,” you said, looking over your shoulder, halfway to the back door. “I’m doing fine. I promise. I need to build up a client list again but I got this.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, waving you off. “Let me or mom know if-”

“I need help. Now get back to your emails, movie star,” you said. He groaned and threw the pillow behind his back at you, barely grazing your leg. “Your aim’s gotten worse, old man.”

“I’m forty five you little shit,” he said, suddenly hopping up. “You need a good old fashioned toss in the pool is-”

You bolted inside, finding your mom in the kitchen and hiding behind her with your camera strapped firmly around your neck. He wouldn’t dare let that get ruined.

“You watch yourself, honey bun,” he said, circling you around your mom when his phone started to ring. He wandered off to the kitchen table, speaking in hushed tones before he was staring at you. “One sec. Hey Y/N? What’s your schedule look like this week?”

“I have an engagement shoot tomorrow morning and some family pics on Thursday afternoon for an hour and a wedding Friday evening,” you said. “Is that Crew?”

He was talking in his phone again though, nodding his head quickly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Did you just book me? I need to offer packages to my clients before-” you said before he put a finger against your lips and shushed you.

“Our on set photographer started her maternity leave this week and they screwed up getting her backfill in. The DP knows you do photography and if you can swing it, he wants you for the week, possibly longer. He can work with your schedule you already have,” he said. 

“Oh how exciting!” said your mom as you held up a hand.

“Dad, I’ve never done that kind of photography. Not since college and even then, it was only a few weeks on a real film set. I only shadowed. I wouldn’t even know what to do.” 

“You take pictures of scenes and behind the scenes. The job is everything you’ve ever done of me on a film set since I got you a camera when you were eight years old. Plus they’re in a bind and it doesn’t hurt to make some contacts in the business,” he said.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes. “One week is all I promise. And I’m charging double my usual rate.”

“Let me handle your salary and all that. You just bring your A-game to set tomorrow. Deal?”

“Fine. But only this week, dad. Got it?”

“Crystal clear.”

Two Weeks Later

“This should be illegal,” you mumbled, snapping a picture of your dad between scenes. 

“I heard that and hey, I’m not a fan either,” he said, laying in the bed, forcing a smile out. “Think of this as a gift for your mother.”

“I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than think of what she’ll be doing with this ‘gift’ of yours,” you said, adjusting your focus. “Now act like I’m not here and give me your best blue steel or else I tell mom about the whole taking me skydiving thing.”

Several heads turned at you as he suddenly looked a whole lot more relaxed. Some would call it sexy. He was lying shirtless in bed, nothing but sheets wrapped around his slim waist. Well, he was wearing nude colored underwear but still. 

If you saw him looking like that at home you’d laugh and tell him he’d have an easier time seducing mom if he brought home an extra large burrito for her and cleaned the bathroom.

“Thank you. You look slightly less horrifying in these,” you said, putting your camera down.

“We really didn’t think about all the shirtless scenes when we hired you, did we,” your boss said, arms crossed as he stood by your side. “This doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it? If there was ever going to be any full nudity-”

“Y/N’s out sick those days,” said your dad, closing his eyes and laying back against the pillows. “When are we rolling again? I need the bathroom.”

“Can you hold it for fifteen?” asked the director from nearby. Your dad gave a thumbs up and soon they were filming. You quietly lurked underneath one of the steady cameras, switched to a much quieter shutter. Crew suddenly appeared in the scene, the two of them sharing an awkward exchange. They repeated the scene one more time before they claimed it was set, your dad jumping out of bed, grabbing the robe that was thrust at him and rushing off to the nearest bathroom.

“Y/N.” You looked up, finding your boss, the director and the lead producer standing in front of you. You shot to your feet, immediately hitting your head on the camera rigging above and stumbling back down. “Are you-”

“Y/N!” Crew said, at your side in a second. You patted the top of your head, annoyed to find something sticky. 

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. Is the camera okay?” you asked, standing with Crew’s help, keeping one hand on top of your head.

“She’s bleeding,” said Crew, voice rough. 

“I’m really fine,” you said, spinning around, trying to inspect the camera. “Please tell me I didn’t break it.”

A trickle fell on to your forehead, your boss immediately taking your hand, shoving the camera in your hands at the producer. “It’s not that-”

You stopped when you felt more trickles, multiple pairs of hands on you sitting you down. “Medic now!” shouted the director.

“It’s fine,” you said quietly, grateful Crew had his arm wrapped around your back. They were all important people on set. They didn’t have time to deal with this. “I just need to…rinse it off or something.”

“What the hell happened?” said Crew, his hand pulling away only so he could rip his shirt off one handed, balling it up and pressing it against the top of your head. “There’s supposed to be padding under the cameras for this exact reason.”

“We must have-”

“Jesus christ. She has a head injury because you forgot?” said Crew, raising his voice. You turned your gaze to him, his eyes softer when they found yours. “You’re gonna be fine. It’s just a lot of blood.”

“I-”

If it wasn’t apparent when your dad walked back on set, the person either had to be deaf, blind, or all of the above.

The shout he let out made your whole body shake. He was at your side in an instant, his face in horror for only a split second before he was forcing it to be soft and relaxed.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, to the both of you in equal parts you were sure. “You’re okay, honey bun. What happened here?”

“She hit her head because they forgot to put up the fucking padding,” growled Crew, an edge to his voice that made everyone stare at him. Before anyone could respond, the medic arrived, forcing the group away. You winced when they pulled Crew’s shirt from your head, dropping it to the ground and instead handing you a towel from their bag to use. They gave you a quick concussion test that you passed but their face was still neutral.

“It looks like a bad laceration. Head injuries are fairly bloody. She should go to a hospital to be checked out and get her head stitched. I don’t want to do that in the field.” 

“I am not going on a stretcher,” you said, standing, both Crew and your dad’s arms around you. 

“Let’s get going,” said your dad, already moving when the producer cleared his throat nervously. “What?”

“You have a very packed day and this sounds like a minor…” he trailed off when your dad gave him a death glare. “Injury. Of course we can stop and reschedule.”

“Mandy flies out tonight. She’s got that shoot thing tomorrow,” said Crew, nearly tucking you against his side. “I’m done for the day, Jensen. I’ll stay with Y/N the whole time and bring her home later if that’s okay with you.”

You looked up at Crew but his focus was on your father. “Are you okay with Crew staying with you? You tell me you want me there and I’m there.”

“Dad, I’m fine. I don’t need Crew to babysit me,” you said. Your dad crossed his arms and you groaned. “Fine. Crew can stay. Please don’t worry, dad. It’s just a cut.”

“Call me if anything changes,” said your dad.

“I’m literally right here,” you said.

“And you’re stubborn as fuck. Crew,” he said, turning back to his director. “Get me through these scenes as quick as possible.”

“Come on, Y/N,” said Crew, guiding you away, an arm over your shoulders. “Let’s get you feeling better.”

“Hey,” said Crew when you exited the hospital room, heading to the nurses station to get discharged. He stood up from his chair by the wall, a nervous smile on his face. “How’d it go?”

“Just a cut. Only three stitches. It was like the medic said, head injuries can look worse than they are,” you said, signing a few sheets of paper the nurse slid to you.

“You’re all set,” he said.

“Thank you.” You turned, Crew standing beside you. “You really didn’t have to stay.”

“I made Jensen a promise. Not to mention you looked like Carrie for a second,” he said, stroking a piece of stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

You walked in silence, sliding into Crew’s passenger seat without a word spoken between the two of you. He seemed different. No flirt about him. Maybe he really was more shy than you gave him credit for.

“My dad said the funniest thing about you, you know, that you’re a pretty shy, quiet guy. Funny cause that’s not my experience,” you said. Crew chuckled, pulling to a stop at a red light. “So which is it?”

“Oh, I’m definitely an introvert. Absolutely hate attention and fanfare and all that. But you, kid? You make me the good kind of nervous which gives me all the confidence in the fucking world to lay it all on the line.” Your lips parted, Crew smirking out of the corner of his eye at you. “That’s your new nickname by the way. See, honey bun, that seems special to you so I’ll give you that one. But kid? Now that I can tease you with and I know it doesn’t have any sentimental feeling while being classically being one of the most romantic nicknames in all film history ala Casablanca.”

You shook your head, Crew shushing you. “Just go with it, kid.”

“Crew.”

“Kid,” he grinned. You crossed your arms, smiling as you stared out the window. “Don’t be asking me to explain a damn thing about this newfound confidence either. I’ve heard Jensen talking about you enough to know you do not talk to people you’ve just met the way you talk to me. See, that tells me I’m already well on my way to catching you.”

“Pft. You wish.”

“Damn right I do,” he said, the car moving forward again. You shook your head, leaning it against the cool glass window. “You know, I dig chicks with brain injuries.”

“Oh my god. You’re such a guy,” you said. His deep chuckle filled the air, your stomach flipping over and over. “And don’t be thinking just because you gave me a ride and stayed with me or anything this is getting you any closer to anything.”

“Oh, of course not. Women hate when you’re kind to them.” You smacked his bicep, keeping the surprise off your face of how hard that muscle felt under your skin. “I’m going to tell Jensen you beat me up.”

“Wimp,” you teased. He tsked you, shaking his head.

“You don’t know your own strength. I’m just telling you now that you’re going to be opening all the pickle jars in this relationship.” You groaned, Crew laughing to himself as he ran a hand through his gorgeous head of lush brown hair. “You ain’t sick of me yet, kid.”

He pulled onto the highway, tapping his finger lightly against the wheel as he headed towards your house. “Tell me something real about you Crew Foxe and maybe things will start going in your favor.”

“Well, since my attempt at showing kindness and concern so clearly failed,” he laughed, ruffling his hair into a messy floof that you so desperately wanted to touch, “I’ll try a different tactic. Sixteen.”

“Sixteen what?” you said before he was putting a hand over your mouth, shushing you.

“You’ll find out another day,” he said with a big ass grin. “Maybe.”

“Tease,” you said, his hand shooting in front of your chest as he slammed on the brakes. Your seatbelt caught as his forearm pinned you back into your seat, the two of you breathing hard as he’d narrowly avoided a car stopped dead in the middle of the road. “Crew.”

“Yeah?” he said, voice husky. 

“You can let go now.” He pulled his hand away quickly, not saying another word the whole way home.

“I am fine,” you said for the hundredth time that night when your dad and Crew got back from a ride in Baby. 

“I know. Hard headed like your mother,” he said, gently kissing the top of your head. You finished up going through your shots from earlier in the day, surprised to find Crew still around after dinner.

“Y/N,” he murmured, nodding toward the front door. He was still off, an uneasiness to him. You bypassed your dad who’d settled in with the twins on the couch. 

You were expecting Crew to head to his car but instead he walked around the side of the house and down to the back porch. “Jensen said it was okay to sit out here. I…I need to tell you something.”

You settled into your usual spot, Crew taking one close by but out of arm’s reach. He sighed, closing his eyes as it dawned on you.

“You’ve been in a car accident before and you got shook up today. Didn’t you?” you asked. 

“No,” he said with a smile. “No, I’ve never been in an accident. Your parents have really never told you about…?” he trailed off.

“Honestly Crew, my parents take secrets to their grave. You can trust them.” He nodded. “Is that why you took a ride with my dad after dinner?”

“You’re right, I am shook up. And he noticed so we talked and I think I owe it to you to tell the truth. Because you’re right. I’m not the cocky, flirty guy. People think I am because of how I look but honestly, I miss every social cue on earth. I hate parties and press and I’d rather stay at home where I can be myself. You’re just the only girl I’ve flirted with like that cause it feels like a game and you’re in on it so it’s just fun, not so scary.”

“Don’t tell the cocky guy but getting the nickname from Casablanca does give him some brownie points,” you said. Crew’s face was soft, his eyes showing only a hint of sadness in them.

“That’s good because what I tell you, so few people know. They will someday I’m sure but right now, honestly, your parents are my only industry…” he trailed off, closing his eyes. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

You slid closer to him, taking his hand in yours, Crew seemingly grateful for the movement. “Not a soul.” He took a few moments before he inhaled deeply.

“When I was sixteen, in middle of nowhere Kansas, I’d just gotten my license. It was Wednesday night, pizza night in our house cause I had basketball practice and my little brother and sister had soccer and dance so it was very chaotic in the Foxe household. So we always got pizza on the way home. And my dad said I should drive myself to practice and after I’d drive myself to Wally’s pizza for dinner like we did every single Wednesday in the winter to meet up with everyone else.” He started to bounce his knee rapidly, looking out to the dark yard. “They were on the highway and a tractor trailer hit black ice on the other side and it was fine one second and then it wasn’t.”

You put a hand on his knee, Crew exhaling. “Crew.”

“They left early that night because they didn’t pick me up. They were only on the highway right then and there because I wasn’t in the car. I didn’t even know what happened until I was sitting in Wally’s waiting and waiting and I drove home because I knew something was wrong. When a cop showed up and no one else, I knew it was my worst nightmare. So that is why I haven’t said a word to you all night. Because if you got hurt in an accident? One I caused? No, no. I’d be done for. I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

“Crew, Crew,” you said, wrapping your arms around him when he shivered. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault. It was shitty fucking luck. I’m so sorry.”

“I know it wasn’t. Sometimes I have a bad day and it gets to me again. Seeing you get hurt at work and then the car made an otherwise good day really crappy.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, slowly embracing you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. You had a bad day too and-”

“Relax,” you murmured, tentatively sliding a hand up to his head, stroking your fingers through his hair. He turned into the touch, an involuntarily happy little sound slipping past his lips. “You’re allowed to have bad days and get scared. You have no idea how nice it is to meet a guy that doesn’t act tough because he thinks he has to.”

“It’s all part of my master plan. Drop all my emotional baggage right up front. Makes the girls go crazy,” he chuckled, tilting his head so he was leaning it against yours. The air was quiet, Crew’s body calming down as you ran your fingers over his scalp. “You don’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“I know.” There was a small laugh, his chest rumbling lightly against yours. 

And just as suddenly, he was pulling away, standing and taking a step back. “What the hell am I doing? I have to go.” 

“Hey!” you said, jogging after him as he tried to walk around the side of the house as fast as humanly possible. You grabbed his arm, spinning him to a stop when he was nearly to the driveway. Hidden in the dark shadows, you could only just make out his face. 

Your cocky bastard looked so embarrassed it made your heart break. “Kid, don’t cry.”

“Then don’t run away from me. You’re supposed to chase me, remember?” He glanced down, eyes fixated on where your hand rested on his wrist. 

“That was until I remembered I’m not a normal guy. I-”

“Look at who my parents are. I was raised by a single dad most of the first decade of my life because my mother wanted nothing to do with either one of us. Do you know the guilt he carries? How he still to this day thinks if he’d done something different she wouldn’t have…” Crew was staring at you, eyes attentive, concerned. “Crew, you’re not the only person around here with a secret. So no, you’re not a normal guy. You’re more attractive than most human beings on the planet. You’re famous and only going to get more famous. Do you have any idea that I might be the one person that can understand that? Growing up in this world? Watching my dad be your age and go through the same exact things? If this doesn’t work, it’s not going to be because you’re not a normal guy. I don’t give a shit about that. I just…fuck Crew, you’re breaking my heart over here. You don’t have to be scared of me.”

He jerked his arm, tugging you right into his chest. When you tilted your head, he was there, pressing his lips to yours, cupping your cheeks, fast and hard, pulling away much too soon. You swallowed and blinked up at him, Crew nodding once.

“You had your chance to get rid of me. Remember that.”

“Who said I’ve let you in?” you said, smiling as he cracked one himself.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, kid.” He grazed his knuckles over your cheekbone, smiling when it made you visibly gasp. “Just my opinion but you were better off with just your dad. You wound up with two good parents that obviously raised a kind young woman.”

“Your parents would be proud of you too Crew. You’re alright.” He chuckled, nodding his head.

“I appreciate that,” he said, still stroking your cheek. “I guess I should go home now before Jensen catches us staring longingly in the dark.”

“Don’t you want to know my secrets?” you asked as he turned to leave. He looked over his shoulder, stepping next to your side.

“Kid, I want to know everything about you.” You’re breath caught, Crew kissing your forehead. “I’ll still gonna catch you. Whatever your secrets are, they don’t scare me, because Y/N Ackles, you are going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He kissed your forehead again, a smile on his lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you at work.” 

With that he was gone, leaving you standing in the standing in the shadows while your insides were lit up in a way Anthony never had.

_____

“Those are the brightest pair of underwear I’ve ever seen,” said Crew that evening as he snuck into your room while you waited for your parents to finish getting ready for the concert. 

“Blame my mother. She thought you’d like them,” you said, grinding your hips against where he had his hand in your jeans, two fingers curled inside you. 

“I do. Then again, I like you in everything. But my favorite is you in nothing.” You whacked his shoulder, Crew rubbing your g-spot methodically. You jaw dropped, his lips finding yours as he pushed you into a long, deep orgasm that made you stand on your tip toes. Crew’s mouth was hot, swallowing down your whimpers as you rode out the last waves of pleasure. 

When he pulled his hand away, he winked, murmuring he’d be right back. You walked on shaky legs to your closet, changing into a pair of not thoroughly soaked underwear only to hear Crew whistle behind you.

“Oh pretty blue,” he said as you tugged up your bikini style underwear, his hands smelling fresh of soap, capturing your cheeks and kissing you deeply again. “I think I have to ruin that pair too.”

“Down boy,” you murmured, fixing your jeans and placing your hands on his hips. “How close are you?”

“Close.” You dropped to your knees and undid his belt, Crew waving an arm and making sure to close your closet door as you yanked his jeans down just enough to get access to him. A grin spread across your lips when you licked a line up and over the head of his cock, Crew jolting and leaning back against the door. “Jesus, Y/N.”

“We don’t have long,” you mumbled, kissing up and down his shaft. “Come as quick as you want.”

“Not gonna be a-” he bit his own fist when you wrapped your lips around him, taking him inch by inch. You reached up to grab his hand, guiding it to rest in your hair but surprisingly, he didn’t move you. Instead, he gently ran his hand over your head as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. Despite his whole body tensing, he never gripped or tugged on you, choosing to let you work him up and up and up until he was sliding his hand to your face. “Y/N,” he moaned, barely above a whisper.

You swiped your tongue over his slit and he was coming, forcing himself to be quiet as you lapped up every ounce. He was panting when you sat back on your heels, smiling up into those dark brown eyes.

“Oh shit,” he said, eyes going wide. “We should have used a condom. Y/N, I’m sorry. I got caught up-”

“Hey,” you said, standing, pulling him into your bathroom next door. “It’s okay. I don’t mind and I’m safe. I got tested after I found out my ex was cheating on me.”

“Okay,” he said, closing his eyes with a nod. You grabbed him a washcloth from your linen closet, letting him clean himself up while you brushed your teeth. “Y/N. I uh…you know how I said last night that I still feel like the ugly kid that got made fun? Well…I uh…I’ve done things with girls before but I’ve been more of a giver than a receiver.”

You locked eyes with him in the mirror, a smidge of foamy toothpaste hanging on the corner of your mouth. “How much of a receiver were you?” you asked, wiping off your mouth. 

“Like I said. I want people to like me for me, not the way I look. I don’t know what it was. I’d gladly get a girl off but letting them touch me…I was afraid and then when you look the way I do and you’re as old as I am, people assume you’ve had blowjobs and sex before.”

You spun around, Crew tossing the washcloth in your laundry basket. “Are you saying last night was the first…and just now was your first…” He lowered his head and nodded. “Crew.”

“I get it. It’s weird. I’m twenty seven and countless people want to fuck me and the only person that’s ever gotten me off before last night was me. If you don’t want to see me anymore, I’d understand.” 

“You dipshit,” you said, smacking his chest, forcing his head up. “God, I’m not breaking up with you because you were a virgin and didn’t tell me. Do you know how good you are at sex? And how special it makes me feel to know that I’m the one you trusted to do that with for your first time? Fuck Crew. Don’t you dare be embarrassed right now. You don’t have to justify yourself or knock yourself down because you want to know something? You know what the hell you’re doing and I liked all of it. You were the best sex I’ve ever had so own that shit and own how sexy as hell you are, alright?”

He opened his mouth to speak, running a hand through his hair a few times. “I’m actually not terrible at it?”

“Honey you are the opposite of terrible,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him in close. “And I can’t wait to do it again.”

“Me either,” he said, relaxing against your body, pecking a kiss on your forehead. “I should have told you last night. I just…didn’t want to blow it.”

“You didn’t,” you said, smiling as you kissed the tip of his nose. “But you can be a little rougher with me next time I give you a blowjob. I won’t break.”

“I didn’t want to mess up your hair,” he said, curling a piece behind your ear. 

“Ehem.” You both jumped apart, Dee standing at the entrance to your bathroom, her eyes narrowed, scanning you both. “Crew, wash your face and comb your hair. You stink like sex.”

She curled her finger at you, both you and Crew gulping when you stepped over to her. 

“Yes my wonderful mother who saw nothing?” you asked.

“Oh yes. That was very platonic face touching and talking about how you took his virginity,” she said, crossing her arms. You looked over your shoulder as Crew picked up your cleanser off the counter. 

“You can’t eavesdrop on us, mom!” you whisper shouted. She rolled her eyes. “Mom!”

“I don’t care what you two do as long as you’re safe. No babies unless you two are engaged or married, got it?” 

“Mom!”

“Be more careful,” she said. “And we’re ready to go when you two are.”

“Thank you very much,” you said, shooing her out of the room. You sighed when she stood there, giving Crew a resigned smile. “I’ll see you out there?”

“Pro tip as someone who did her fair share of sneaking around, don’t leave together. It’s suspicious,” she said, dragging you away from Crew before he could respond.

“Hey, honey bun,” said your dad by the front door. “Car’s out front. We just waiting on Crew?”

“Ready,” he said, jogging down the hall, smelling clean and his hair brushed up in pretty, thick waves. “Uh. Am I underdressed?”

Your mom was in a dress, boots and cropped baggy coat, dad sporting white jeans, his favorite designer sneakers, a black bomber jacket and a black and white button down with some obnoxious print only he could pull off. To be fair, they did look a bit like they’d just walked off a runway.

“You’re fine,” you said, pointing at yourself. “They like to play dress up. It’s just a concert.”

“Excuse us but we have a hot date afterwards,” said your dad. “Y/N-”

“Yes, I will come home after the concert and send the sitter away and feed the small children breakfast,” you said, throwing your crossbody bag on. 

“Thank you,” he said, waving for everyone to head out.

“Why are you making your siblings breakfast?” whispered Crew as you walked up the driveway to the street.

“They’re having a ‘date night’ out which is code for they’re going to bang in a hotel room tonight without the possibility of anyone interrupting them,” you said, your dad carrying a small overnight bag on his shoulder behind you.

“So you have the house to yourself tonight?” he murmured. You grinned, Crew returning it. “Want to have a sleepover?”

“You read my mind, Foxe.”

Two Weeks Later

“Mom,” you hummed, twirling into the kitchen at your grandparents house. Most everyone was out of the house, playing touch football in the backyard while you helped her and your grandma finish up with some last minute things before dinner.

“Yes, sweetie?” she asked, checking the time on the oven. “Dinner’ll be ready in about forty minutes.”

“She’s thinking about that boy,” said your grandma. 

“You told grandma about Crew! Mom! You said-”

“She didn’t tell me a thing. You smiling like an idiot at your phone the past two days gave it away,” she said. “He’s cute.”

“He’s tall too. He has abs,” whispered your mom, your grandma giving you an approving smile. “I’m done, I promise. What’s up?”

“I just…he’s sitting alone in his apartment right now with it’s crappy furniture eating take out and all by himself and I know I shouldn’t ask this but can Crew come to Christmas next month? I can’t stand the thought of him spending another holiday alone.”

“Who’s alone?” said your dad from around the corner, walking into the kitchen, face slightly red. He went to the fridge and got out a beer, breathing deeply as he took a few deep swigs. You glanced at your mom, grandma suddenly making an excuse to leave. The traitor.

“Y/N was just saying we should consider inviting Crew to Christmas with us so he’s not alone and I was just about to tell her we talked about it this morning actually,” she said. You blinked, your dad smiling.

“I tried to get the kid to come to Thanksgiving but I think if all three of us get on him, he’ll give in and come to Christmas. The cabin we rented out is plenty big enough.” He ruffled your head as he exited the kitchen, tugging on your arm. “Outside. I need some muscle to tackle your uncles.”

“So you’ll come?” you asked over facetime that night, Crew lounging on his couch, an empty pizza box beside him. “Please?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Holidays…my birthday was one thing but if I go to your family’s Christmas, don’t you think your dad will figure it out?” You pouted, adjusting your phone from where you held it, sat on the edge of the cold stone firepit in the yard. 

“He wants you to come too. We all do. Tell me the truth. Is this about getting caught or is it about celebrating a holiday again?” He frowned, closing his eyes. “Crew.”

“It’s your family. It’s not mine.” Crew looked like he had to force himself to look at the camera again, eyes quickly glancing downwards. “Besides, wouldn’t it be super obvious to Jensen we’re together if I came?”

“No, it really wouldn’t. We have friends at Thanksgiving all the time. It’s never just blood relatives.”

“Yeah but this is Christmas. It’s different.” 

“And I don’t want you to be alone on it.” He sat the phone down, your view of the ceiling as he sighed. “If it’s stressing you out then okay, I’ll back off. But what about me staying back to hang out with you?”

“Y/N no,” he said, snatching the phone up. “I’m not letting you miss the holiday with your family to be with me.”

“Then come with me and we can all be together.”

“I can’t.” You rolled your eyes. “Kid, I can’t do it.”

“Crew-”

“I don’t want to get used to holidays again.” You sealed your lips shut as he ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I want to go. Trust me, I want to. But I haven’t celebrated anything since I was sixteen. It’s been a decade. And I don’t want to go to one this year and then find out it was a one time thing and I’m alone again the next year. I don’t think I can handle that.”

You looked across the dark yard to the lit up house, shadows passing by in the windows, someone’s loud laugh managing to eek it’s way outdoors. “And I can’t guarantee that it’s not a one time thing is what you’re saying.”

“It’s unfair and shitty, I know. Believe me, I know how much of a dick I sound like-”

“Honey, you’re not a dick for not wanting to get hurt.” 

“But I’m hurting you by not going.” You shook your head, fixing the phone so he could see your face better in the dimming light. “You want me to go.”

“Crew,” you said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “All I want is for you to have a nice Christmas. If you think you’d have a nicer one on your own and you’d rather wait until maybe next year when you’re feeling more confident in us, then I want you to stay home. I do not want this to be stressful for you at all. We can have a little Christmas a few days before or after, whatever we want to do, okay?”

He cocked his head, tucking his knees up to his chest adorably as he smiled. “You silly little goose. I am more than confident in us. But just because I feel a certain way doesn’t mean you have to.”

You pulled up your knees as well, furrowing your brows together. “Wait. You don’t want to come because you think I’ll change my mind about you and me?”

“Hey, I’m smitten. But I need to know you are too. It’s just bad timing. Give me a few more months and I think you’ll be there but-”

“You’re such a dipshit,” you laughed quietly, Crew resting his chin on the tops of his knees. “Crew…”

“Do not say it. Even I’m not there to say it. Obviously I got my shit to work through a bit when it comes to this stuff and being open to being vulnerable again. I just know what I feel.”

“How about I ask this then,” you said. Crew nodded, eyes cautiously fixated on yours. “Do you want to come to Christmas every year? To be clear, I’m asking as your friend Y/N, not your girlfriend Y/N, so you really don’t have an excuse not to say yes.”

“I suppose I don’t.” Crew bit his bottom lip, slowly relaxing as you smiled. “I feel like I’m catching you again, Ackles.”

“Maybe,” you giggled. His smile turned dark, thumb running over his lip. “Okay, that’s not fair to tease me like that.”

“Oh yes. I’m the tease in this relationship,” he chuckled. He ruffled his hair, eyes darting around your face. “Are we being two stupid kids? How do we know this isn’t just intense sexual attraction and when it fades, we’ll go our own ways?”

You shrugged, catching your hair when a gust of wind blew it past your face. “I think attraction made us pay attention to each other, got you way out of your comfort zone and got me over my ex in a flash. But attraction didn’t make us tell each other things no one else knows about us. I think we both know the difference between a crush and something more.”

Crew was quiet for a few beats, nodding his head to himself. “If I can trust my gut with how I feel about you then I need to trust it when it says to trust you. So don’t invite me to any other Christmas’ except this one. You can ask next year’s next year. But I won’t be a dick that makes you promise something you can’t. There are no guarantees what’ll happen to us. So ask me again and I’ll be a big boy and answer this time.”

“You said you trust me?” He smiled and nodded. “Then trust me, Crew. Come to Christmas and the one after that and the one after that.”

“Okay,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ll take the pity invites.”

“No pity invites. But I do expect to see some naked abs or ass as repayment.” He snorted, pulling off his shirt one handed, running his hand down his chest. “Hey! I should be touching that!”

“Enjoy these abs while they’re here. You can kiss these suckers goodbye in March for a solid three months.”

“First off, you’re being extremely rude tracing your own eight pack like that,” you said, Crew grinning as he slowly moved his finger through the crevices. “Second, I don’t care if you have a tummy. I still get to put my hands all over it. And in March we’re going out to eat a lot. Your personal trainer is going to hate me.”

“Already looking forward to it,” he laughed. “And your dad is my personal trainer so I’m sure he’ll love that.”

“You got that body through freaking beach body workouts?” you asked as he hummed. “Lucky. I’ve done those for years and I still can’t get into the jeans I wore in high school.”

“You’re being a silly goose again,” he laughed. “See I don’t want that version of Y/N. She was cute and beautiful. But I want the hot curvy woman with an ass and legs to worship for days. So if I can not have abs then you can have that exquisite fucking thirst trap of a body, got it?”

“You want a thirst trap?” you grinned. “I’ll send you one when I’m in bed later.”

He groaned and threw his head back. “This is what I get for taking off my shirt, isn’t it.”

“Yes. But your dick will thank me for it later.” 

“Fuck, when are you coming back?” he asked.

“Late Sunday night. I’ll see you at work.” You heard the back door open and sighed. “I gotta go. I’ll text you later.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, giving you a small wave before he was gone. You popped your head up to find your dad halfway across the yard. 

“Hey, guess what?” you asked, shoving your phone away. “I managed to convince Crew to come to Christmas.”

“That’s great, honey bun,” he said, a worried smile on his face. “You okay?”

“Me?” He nodded back at the house.

“I know it’s a lot of people and people were asking questions about Anthony.” You stared at him, blinking slowly. “About why you guys ended things…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and you don’t have to tell anyone anything.”

Oh. He was worried about you. That made sense. Some of your aunts were a bit relentless at times but to be honest, Anthony hadn’t crossed your mind much in the past month unless you were comparing how much more amazing Crew had been towards you.

“I’m good. Promise,” you said, smiling quickly. “I’m kind of over Anthony to be honest.”

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m glad to hear it but you were with him for seven years, honey. He was your first everything. It’s okay to not be okay still.”

“I get that but like you said, he was an asshole and looking back, I was settling cause I thought he was the safe option and I don’t want to go with the safe option, you know? I want it to be the happy option.”

“You figure that all out by yourself?” he asked with a knowing smirk. You hid your surprise when he crossed his arms. “You and Crew have been hanging out a lot lately. Don’t think I don’t see what’s going on.”

“I…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. He place his hands on your shoulders, rubbing your biceps.

“I love that you guys are friends too. I’m sure Crew thinks Anthony was a dick too. It helps when someone your own age tells you too and not just your parents.”

“Right…” you said, watching his features closely. Did he really think you and Crew were just friends?

“And I know Crew appreciates having a friend his own age. But we get to share him, hm?”

“Of course,” you said, your dad fixing your hair when another gust of wind blew through the yard. “Crew should have as many friends as he wants.”

“I feel the same way. And same goes for you. It’s nice you guys are going out with some of the younger crew after work. Builds camaraderie and friendships worth something.” You nodded, pursing your lips. “Alright, I’ll stop. But I did want to talk to you about something in private before Monday.”

You stared up at him, watching him smile slowly.

“I’m not supposed to know this but the show was renewed all the way through season 4 earlier this week so we’ll be shooting in Austin for a few months a year at least for the next two years.”

“That’s great dad! That gives you plenty of time to do other projects too, right?” 

“Exactly, plenty for both me and Crew. But the reason I’m telling you is that our previous still photographer has informed the studio she isn’t coming back. She’s going to take a few years off to raise her son. The studio has been happy with the shots they’ve gotten from you so far for marketing. On Monday you’re going to be offered a permanent position as the on-set still photographer. We film four months a year and the other eight you’d be free to do whatever you want with your business. You’d have financial security and get to maintain your own work too. What do you think?”

“Wait, someone at Amazon thinks my shots are good? Me?” you asked. He laughed, nodding his head. “Me?”

“Yes, you. I know they’ll expect an answer from you on the spot but I wanted to give you some time to think it over.”

“Wait,” you said, holding up a hand. “Pictures I take of you and Crew could wind up on social media accounts?”

“Honey bun, pictures you take of us will wind up on a billboard on Hollywood Boulevard.” Your jaw dropped, his laugh echoing in the quiet night air. “That a yes?”

“Absolutely it’s a yes!” You hopped up and down on your toes, your dad laughing to himself as he hugged you. 

“Just don’t let another production steal you away from us. I may or may not enjoy getting to work together.”

“I’ve been taking pictures of you since I was a kid and now I get paid for it? This is the best day ever!” He laughed again as he bent down, throwing you on his back and heading for the house. 

“You could be more enthusiastic about this you know,” he teased. “But no telling anyone about the getting renewed bit, okay? Not even Crew knows yet.”

“Okay, okay,” you said, squeezing him tight. “Ah thank you dad!”

“It was all you, Y/N. Now let’s go honor Dean and split a pie between us.”

“Mr. Foxe,” you panted as Crew practically mauled you in the hallway of his apartment Monday night. “You sure seem mighty eager for your dinner.”

“I want my dessert now,” he growled, hiking your legs up around his waist, grinding against your core, your jeans sadly in the way. “Fuck. How long before we’re supposed to be at your parents?”

“Thirty minutes,” you moaned when he rested you against the wall and undid the zipper of your jeans. “It’s a twenty minute drive this time of night.”

“Plenty of time,” he said. He yanked on your jeans and underwear, tugging them downwards until you went to set a foot on the floor to help him remove them.

But the bastard held you up with one damn hand, shucking them off one leg and then the other, smirking as he flashed you a wink. “Hold on tight, kid.”

“Hold on to-” You yelped as he pushed you up the wall at the same moment he dropped to his knees, pushing your legs to rest on his shoulders. Large hands squeezed your hips as he buried his face in your folds, your hands shooting to his hair. “Jesus Crew.”

He only moved his tongue faster, your back trying to arch but he held you firm against the wall, nowhere to go. It was too much heat, too much delicious pressure building in your core. And then you looked down, those dark eyes grinning up at you as he ate you out.

You were surprised your didn’t suffocate him with how hard you clenched your legs as you came.

“Plenty of time,” he murmured, kissing the inside of your thigh as he helped guide you down to the floor. His tongue jutted out to lick his lips, your mind still spinning as he dipped into his kitchen, wiping you down with a towel when he returned. “So loud for me.”

“Oh my god,” you said, throwing your hands over your mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’m normally not very vocal when-”

He captured your lips with his, chuckling when he pulled back an inch. “Just means I’m doing something right to make you scream like that.”

You reached for his belt, Crew leaning in to kiss you again.

Twenty five minutes later, and an orgasm for each of you, you were walking into your house, Crew pulling into the driveway.

“Work keep you late?” asked your mom as you ditched your work bag by the door and went to the sink to wash up. You shot her a look, one she grinned at, before the doorbell rang. “Y/N would you get the door?”

“Yes mother,” you said, trailing down the hall after your little brother. “No Zepp. You’re not big enough to answer the door yet.”

“Ugh. But I’m six!” he said.

“Not today, big man,” you said, stepping in front of him. You pulled open the door with a smile, Crew grinning as he moved inside. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, pecking a kiss on your lips.

“Hi Crew!” He practically jumped back against the door when your brother popped out.

“H-Hey buddy! You’re taller than I remember.”

“You saw me last week!”

“Must be growing then,” he said, kicking off his sneakers and picking Zepp up, throwing him over his shoulder. 

“Crew!” he giggled, your heart swooning as you watched him carry your little brother into the kitchen. He was normally shy around new people, and even some people he did know, so seeing him be so open with Crew put a big ass smile on your face. “Mom! Crew’s here!”

“Hi Crew!” said your sisters, chairs moving in the distance. By the time you were back in sight of the kitchen, all three of them were using him as a jungle gym. 

“Guys, guys. Clean up your drawings and wash your hands,” said your mom. Crew set them down and gratefully took hold of the bottle of wine that was sat on the counter. “Hands washed or no dessert.”

They took off upstairs and for their bathroom, Crew chuckling as he popped the cork out.

“So how was traffic?” asked your mom. 

“It was fine,” you said, going to the cabinet, taking out plates and bowls to set on the table. She grinned and you narrowed your eyes. “Mother.”

“What? I’m just asking how your ride home was.” She glanced at Crew who froze on the spot. “Oh, you know I know. Now relax and pour us some wine, sweetie.”

“Dee, I-” She held up a hand.

“You’re happy and she’s happy. That makes me happy, Crew. When you two are ready to tell Jensen and the family, that’s when you tell us. Until then I will try to keep the butting in to a minimum.” 

“You’re actually okay with me dating your daughter?” he whispered, glancing around for Jensen. She chuckled quietly, taking the bottle from him and pouring some drinks.

“Crew. We’re still friends and as your friend I’m telling you, you’re the kind of man I’d want any of my kids to date. Okay sweetie?” He nodded, easing some. “And if you need any girl advice you still come to me, alright?”

“You may live to regret that,” he chuckled, graciously taking the glass that was handed to him. “Do…do you think Jensen will freak out?”

“I don’t know. I know he’ll have strong feelings just because he cares about you both very much. He probably will be a little upset he was kept in the dark but he has to live with that. You’re both adults entitled to your privacy.”

“Crew,” you mumbled, Crew getting the message to drop it before he overheard you. “So I got offered to be the permanent still photographer today.”

“That’s great, Y/N!” said your mom, Crew going to a pot, stirring it when it looked close to bubbling over. “I’m so excited for you!”

“I know you know mom,” you laughed, still happily taking your hug from her. “I didn’t quite think this is where my career would go but I really like it.”

“Hey, you still owe me those headshots,” said Crew, your mom waving the two of you out of the kitchen. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

“We can get together on Saturday, I can show you my studio space and then we could do some outdoors if you want?” you asked.

“Do that,” said your dad as he walked into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and sporting wet hair. “I have no idea why but they really like to have those outdoorsy pictures too when you’re younger.”

“Because they like to see the cute boys look like jocks,” said your mom as feet pounded upstairs. “Everyone out of my kitchen. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

_________

You weren’t entirely surprised to find the house wasn’t in total darkness when you arrived home close to midnight. Your parents were night owls and ever since you were old enough to stay up late, they’d always entertain into the early morning. You smirked as you recalled the time you found them asleep on the patio furniture, only to find out their guests had left long ago because frankly, sometimes they would block out the whole world for each other.

It was kind of romantically adorable in a way.

Which was exactly why you’d moved home from Atlanta two months ago. You wanted romantically adorable. Someone you stared at like the sun shined out of their ass because they made you feel like life didn’t exist before them. You’d been young but you remembered the exact moment dad met your mom. He liked to say that no, it wasn’t love at first sight, but you remembered.

The man was in love with her in less than a week and you were incredibly grateful for it. Not that you’d ever had any problems with having a single dad but watching him fall in love? Watching mom fall in love back?

God, no wonder you had too high expectations of men.

“Honey bun, you just getting home?” you heard your dad call softly. Your sisters and brothers rooms were on the far side of the house, no chance of him waking them but he had that laziness to his voice. A little buzzed but still the ever concerned father.

“Yes. I thought when I moved back home you guys agreed you’d respect my privacy cause I’m, you know, twenty five, and-”

Hot damn.

When you turned the corner into the dining room, sat at the far end of the table near your dad was the single greatest looking male specimen in existence. The short, fluffy dark hair. The strong jawline and kind brown eyes. And his fucking shoulders. God, his biceps were testing the strength of his shirt and then some.

The too attractive for his own good man took a sip from his glass of whiskey and looked you up and down, smiling for the briefest of moments. 

“Y/N,” said your mom, hopefully mistaking your awe struckness as embarrassment. God you prayed they thought you were embarrassed. You should have been. Any longer and you were about to start drooling over this man. “Dad promises not to bring it up again. Crew, this is our eldest, Y/N. Y/N this is Crew Foxe. He’s playing dad’s son in the show they-”

“You’re Mav Axelwood? You?” Your eyes were wide as your dad chuckled, Crew sitting there, taking another sip as he kept his brown eyes locked on you, a hint of something in them that made you want to melt into a puddle. A very happy puddle.

“You can tell my kids are such big fans of mine that they haven’t even seen an episode of a show that’s in it’s second season,” said Jensen. You swallowed when Crew pulled his gaze away.

“Excuse me but I was…getting around to it,” you said. You crossed your arms, raising your chin. “I’m just surprised that you clearly have a man playing what’s supposed to be a teenager.”

“I’m twenty six playing a nineteen year old. It’s pretty common,” said Crew.

“I know that. Obviously,” you said. He cocked his head, smirking a little. 

Oh god. You felt that look in your bones, felt it go straight through your veins, to your core. He was licking his lips as he leaned forward.

“Then why would you be surprised? You know, if it’s so obvious,” he said, voice thick and heavy. Was the room always this hot? You were sweating. You were sweating so fucking much.

Why the fuck was he turning you on so much? In front of your fucking parents of all people?

“Oh well, maybe cause Mav is supposed to be a very intelligent character. I’d think they’d want someone that looks less like a jock. No offense.” 

Crew angled himself away from your parents, giving you the biggest, oh, it’s so on, look you’d ever seen in your life.

“None taken,” he said, standing with a stretch. “It’s getting late, guys. I should head out. Thank you so much for dinner, Danneel. It was amazing and Jay, you have got to send me the name of that whiskey.”

“I think your bank account will regret that,” he said with a smile, giving his co-star a quick hug good night, your mom giving him one as well. “Let me know if you need any help with unpacking or finding stuff in Austin. I know the show moving shooting location was a last minute deal.”

“Yeah but I’m excited to be here after all the cool stuff you’ve said about it. Plus now I get to hang out with Dee in person all the time,” he said, Dannel throwing her arm over his shoulders as you watched on with raised eyebrows.

“I expect to see your ass over here a lot, Foxe.”

“Of course I will. My apartment doesn’t have a pool,” he teased. Your dad rolled his eyes, slapping him on the back.

“You good to drive? We can get you a ride or you can crash in the guest room if you need to,” said your mom.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. “Night Dee. Jay.”

“Night Crew,” they said, Crew slipping around the table, pausing near you.

“Y/N, would you mind walking me out?” he asked, waiting only a beat before walking ahead. You caught up with him at the front door, slipping into your sneakers, walking behind him up the driveway, into the darkness, away from the light of the porch. 

“Listen, about the jock crack-” He cocked his head again, a dangerous smile on his face. “What?”

“Oh so you weren’t eye fucking me in there? Cause it sure as hell looked like if your parents weren’t there you’d be sitting in my lap right now.”

“That’s presumptuous of you,” you said, crossing your arms.

“You do that a lot when you’re nervous I bet,” he said, nodding down at your chest. “If you want to fuck, just come out and say it like a big girl.”

“You’re the last person on earth I’d fuck.”

“That’s too bad. Cause you are the most attractive woman on the fucking planet and I want to know everything about you and then some.” Your jaw dropped slightly, Crew smirking as he stepped closer, leaning in, leaving his mouth a few inches from yours. “Tell me to fuck off and I will. But if you don’t, I’ll take that as an invitation.”

“Invitation to what?” you breathed out, Crew stepping closer, a ghost of air falling over your earlobe as he leaned in even closer.

“To chase you. Because if I do, I’m going to catch you. It’s not a matter of if, but when.” You were breathing hard, Crew using his height, over six feet, and his muscular body to back you up against the cold metal of his car. “Tell me.”

What the fuck was happening? An incredibly hot man was suddenly looking at you like you were a meal to devour and yet, despite your racing heart, he was telling you he’d back off if you told him to? The fuck?

“You know little red riding hood?” he murmured. You nodded once, Crew chuckling. “Which one of us do you think is the wolf?”

“The wolf was a bad guy.”

“Even bad wolves can be good.” He straightened himself up and kissed your temple, pleasant shivers running down your spine. “Now tell me to fuck off or tell me goodnight.”

“Goodnight…little red riding hood,” you said, slipping around him with a smirk, proud of yourself for pulling away. He chuckled, opening his car door.

“Aw. That’s adorable you think you’re the wolf,” he said, hopping into his seat. “Goodnight. Honey bun.”

“Ugh! Don’t call me that!” He laughed, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “What now?”

“Your number?” he asked, licking his lips, looking up through hooded eyelashes. You put a hand on the door, leaning in to face him. For a split second he looked nervous. 

Good.

“Crew, Crew, Crew. You’re chasing me, remember? You’re going to have to work harder than that for my number.” You swung the door shut, swallowing when his large hand stopped it in it’s tracks.

“Whatever you say. Honey bun.” He grinned as you huffed and took off back towards the house. You couldn’t even get there before your phone vibrated.

You’re adorable when you storm off. You can thank your dad for giving me your number last week. You know, for emergencies. Of which making sure you have my number clearly is one. Honey bun.

You threw up your hands and flipped him off, inside by the time you saw his headlights turn on.

“Hey, what was Crew up to?” asked your dad. You took off your shoes as you watched them bring in glasses to the kitchen. “Oh was he asking if you guys could hang out? He’s such a nice kid but he’s a bit of an introvert. I don’t think he knows anyone his age in town.”

“Y/N would love to hang out with him I’m sure,” said your mom. She gave you a side eye and you swallowed.

Oh fuck. She’d seen the look you and Crew were giving each other.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, see you guys in the morning.” You quickly jogged upstairs and over to your old room, grateful it had some privacy from your younger siblings part of the house. Not two minutes later were you exiting your bathroom in your pajamas when she knocked softly at your door before opening it. “What’s up?”

She shut the door gently behind herself, offering you a smirk.

“A word of advice,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I too once was a young woman who looked at a young actor like she wanted to devour him six ways from Sunday.”

“Mom I-”

“Crew is a very nice young man. But if you two are going to end up doing what I think you are-”

“Mom, I’m not going to have-”

“You need to tell him about Anthony.” You opened your mouth, snapping it shut a few times.

“She told you. JJ.” 

“Your fault for confiding in a ten year old. She told me and I told your father.” You crossed your arms, dragging your toes over the carpet. “We’ve known since you were driving back from Atlanta.”

“And you never brought it up? Until now for some random reason?” you said, trying to avoid this conversation at all costs. 

“We hoped you would but we’re also respecting your privacy. Getting cheated on…I know you thought he was the one but-”

“I knew he wasn’t,” you said, closing your eyes. “I thought he was a safe option. It was…conditional love. But the guy you end up with, it should be unconditional right? Like your family?” She smiled, walking over, hugging you tight. “Why should I tell Crew about Anthony? In a hypothetical situation where maybe what you’re inferring could potentially happen.”

“Because you’ve always been so careful with your heart. When your only boyfriend, when your fiance, cheats? I know he left scars, one’s we can’t fix. But a boy like Crew, hypothetically speaking of course, he might help them heal. But he can’t do that if he doesn’t know they exist,” she said.

You shook your head and leaned back. “Wait, are you telling me to hookup with Crew? Crew Foxe, your and dad’s friend?”

“I’m saying you haven’t smiled in a long time and you couldn’t wipe one off your face around that boy. I’d much rather see you with a guy like that then fucking Anthony.”

“I thought you liked Anthony,” you said. She grimaced and shook her face.

“We loathed that boy. But you don’t tell your child that. You just smile and nod and talk about him behind his back.” You laughed again, feeling her kiss your forehead. “But dad might think differently about you and Crew than I so if you two do act on whatever was going on in that dining room, make sure it’s a solid thing before you go telling him.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. “Mom?”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“I appreciate what you’re saying but if something does or doesn’t happen with Crew, I’m not going to tell you about it. I won’t make you keep a secret from dad. Not unless it was something…I don’t know what I felt but just don’t worry about it, okay? I’m not even sure I want to be with anyone right now, you know?”

“I respect that,” she said. “But I can read you just like your father. Fair warning.”

You groaned, getting a kiss on the temple before she left you to yourself. 

Were you and Crew that obvious? Or was it just sexual tension and that’s what she’d seen? What you’d felt? 

You sighed and lay down, trying to ignore how for the first time in months, you couldn’t give a rat’s ass that you’d been cheated on. 

All because of Crew fucking Foxe.

“Good morning, Y/N.” You jumped when you walked into the kitchen, staring with half-open eyes at were Crew was sat at your kitchen counter.

Drinking coffee from you favorite mug.

In your damn spot.

“Cute pajamas,” he said, smirking behind your dad’s back while he made himself a cup of coffee.

“Don’t you have your own home,” you grumbled, grateful your dad was handing you his cup of coffee. “I love you.”

“She’s not a morning person,” chuckled Jensen, ruffling your messy hair as you took a long sip. “Don’t take offense to anything she says before eight am, Crew. She used to growl at me when I’d get her up in high school.”

“You barely had to wake me up. You were off playing plaid man.”

“You love plaid man,” he said. You did, letting out a small smile when you took another sip. “Surprised she hasn’t bitten your head off yet for sitting in her spot.”

“I can be nice in the morning,” you mumbled, sitting up on top of the island where they had a set of scripts out. 

“And I have a chance of winning the lottery,” said your dad, taking his usual spot. He glanced your direction, shaking his head. “Why are you up so early? Wasn’t part of the owning your own business thing so you could sleep in?”

“I thought we were going fishing,” you said, jutting out your lip. His face fell and you grinned, getting whacked in the leg with his script.

“Demon child. That’s next weekend,” he said, nodding to Crew. “I told you. This one before eight in the morning? She’s like a little raptor. Tear you apart.”

“So why are you up so early then?” asked Crew.

“Why are you in my spot drinking from my mug doing work in my spot on a Sunday morning?” you asked, plastering on a cheery smile.

“You said in my spot twice.”

“Oh good, you picked up on that,” you said, narrowing your eyes. Crew only smiled, leaning forward in his seat.

“Jensen invited me over to work on this scene I’m nervous about it. I didn’t want to cut into his family time so last night I offered to come over early, before you guys were awake which, again, why is the not morning person up at seventy forty on a Sunday?”

He angled himself away from Jensen, a brilliant smile on his face that made your heart race and your legs clamp tight together.

Oh this fucker.

“Maybe it was someone’s loud ass car,” you said, turning your head to your dad who was suddenly very interested in his seat. “What did I tell you about Baby?”

“I only revved her a little! Crew wanted to see her,” he said as Crew put a hand over his heart.

“You’d throw me under the bus like that, Ackles?”

“I’ll drive right over you with the bus,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, your dad patting the top of your foot. “Sorry I woke you up, honey bun.”

Crew grinned wide and it took all of your willpower to not smack him upside the head. “It’s fine. I have shots I can get a headstart on editing for the week.”

“Oh that reminds me,” said Crew, a way too happy smirk on his face. “I’ve heard so much about your photography business Y/N. I’d love if you could do some new headshots for me like you did for your dad.”

You wanted to tell pretty boy to get his own damn headshots but business was business. 

“Sure. But my schedule is pretty packed so it’ll probably be a while,” you said with a casual shrug, sipping on your dad’s coffee. He raised an eyebrow out of the corner of your eye.

“Wasn’t the point of you forming your own business so you could make your own hours? You could sneak Crew in sometime this week I’m sure,” he said.

“There’d be an expediency fee,” you said, staring down Crew, a smile still on his face. “A big one.”

“She’ll be giving you the friends and family discount,” he said, giving you a look. You slid his cup back to him and lifted your chin.

“Hm. I recall when I opened my business you gave me some tips about not being a pushover.” 

“Y/N’s right, Jensen,” said Crew before your dad could his mouth again. He turned in his seat, your seat dammit, shrugging to himself. “It’s only fair I pay for the service your daughter is providing and if that means paying more to get in early, of course I will.”

You forced a smile when your dad sighed and picked up his script again. “Fine. Just don’t up charge him too much.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, dad,” you said. You hopped off the counter, picking up a muffin from nearby and taking a bite. “Mm. You got banana this time.”

“Crew offered to bring some by,” he said, nodding back towards the hallway. You got the message. He needed some quiet to work. “Don’t work too hard.”

“You either,” you said, ruffling his hair as you left the kitchen. “Thanks for the muffin, Foxe.”

“Anytime, Y/N. I’ll text you about that headshot.”

“I’m sure you will, Crew.”

_______