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prettytamagnii · 4 years ago

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Here for you, with you (JJ X Reader)

Fandom: Outer Banks

Trigger Warning: ANXIETY, ANXIETY ATTACK

Disclaimer: I am a person with anxiety, and I decided to write this oneshot after an anxiety attack I had recently. I don't want to romanticize anxiety, or sugarcoat the reality of how it really affects us; what I want is to put my feelings to paper (screen, wtv) as a way to cope with my struggles. Anxiety is NOT solved with an hug from your crush, it is something that must be continuously treated, with help from a therapist. The support of your loved ones is definitely important, and that's what this oneshot is about, but don't forget that mental health issues like this require professional help and treatment, and that healing is not a linear process, but a continuous journey.

Summary: You have an anxiety attack during a Pogue's party, and JJ, your (not really) unrequited crush stays with you throughout it.

Tags: Oneshot, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Outer Banks imagine, Pogue! Reader.

***

Loud music, strong drinks, euphoric people messing around - that's what a typical Pogue party looks like. That's what tonight was all about. An abundance of young people, pogues and kooks alike, gathered around the front of John B's house, everyone with a cup on their hand, you included.

You didn't really like the taste of beer, it was too sour for you, but you often drank so you would fit in - you'd never admit this, of course. Kiara always assured you that you didn't have to drink if you didn't want to, you should never do anything out of pressure. You understood that, you knew your friends wouldn't mock you if you didn't drink, but a feeling of invisible peer pressure still haunted you during those parties, where not everyone was your friend, not everyone cared if you were uncomfortable with the noise or the alcohol. So, you'd drink. You'd try to blend in, to relax, to ignore all those feelings that hurted you, haunted you.

Tonight, you couldn't do it.

It had been a rough day before the party started, and the stress of this party environment was just strengthening those heart-wrenching thoughts and feelings. It was like there was no air left to breathe, your body was clenching around itself and you felt like you would explode. As your vision got foggy and the floor escaped your feet, you ran away into John B's house and looked for a place to lay down and escape that awful feeling.

There was a spare room, kind of a guest room where you always stayed when you stayed for the night. As you made your way into the room, people couldn't help but stare, some of them worried they saw a person looking so distressed. You ignored it all, for all you needed was to close that door and lay down in the comfortable bed. Just as you did it, you closed your eyes, allowing all of the tears to leave your eyes. It hurted inside, but it also freed you from the pain. There was peace in letting your tears run free, until there wasn't anything else to cry about.

"Y/N?" you heard Kiara knocking on the door. You had no energy to talk, but you managed to answer her.

"I'm in here."

"Are you OK?" she asked "You disappeared out of nowhere, everyone is worried about you."

Everyone? You highly doubted it. Out of everyone who was at that party, your friends were John B, ever since you two were very young, and Kiara, since you've always been classmates. Throught them you've also became friends with Pope, a very nice guy and the responsible one of the bunch, Sarah, the kook girl with a pogue heart after falling in love with John B... And JJ. Young, wild and free JJ, whose snarky smile and ocean eyes had got you smitten a long time ago. You kept your feelings a secret from anyone you knew, however, since something inside you, a gut-wrenching voice, told you repeatedly that he saw you as nothing more than a friend. You've tried to get over your crush, but these feelings wouldn't leave you. They stood strong and stubborn against the voice of your insecurities that told them to give up.

Tears kept rolling down your face as the face of the golden haired guy invaded your mind. Now that was no place, no time to think about him. A one-sided crush was the last thing you wanted to occupy your head as you tried to battle an anxious episode. Not another thing to be sad, worried, anxious about.

"For fucks sake, now is not the time!" you heard Kiara yelling, but she wasn't talking to you. Another voice reached your ears, unmistakable.

"Why not? I wanna see her" JJ's assertive voice shook your heartbeat.

"She doesn't sound OK, JJ" Kiara insisted "She's definitely not in the mood to party, let her rest."

"I'm not going back to the party, Kie. I'm staying here with her."

Having said this, the door opened and you lifted your head up to see JJ and Kiara walking into the room. You hoped they couldn't hear the beating of your heart, faster than light.

"Y/N" he called you. You tried to look him in the eyes, but you didn't want him to see your tears. Too late.

"Y/N!" they both approached you.

"I told you she needed to rest!" Kiara scolded JJ, before turning to you "I'm sorry-"

"It's alright" your voice was frail. You looked up, both your friends were obviously worried.

"Are you sure?" Kiara asked. Your eyes met JJ's, a part of wanted to scream. You had heard him saying he wanted to stay with you. And god, did you want that too. But at the same time, you were scared. You shouldn't lean on an unlikely hope that maybe, just maybe he could feel about you the way you felt about him. Yet another instance of wishful thinking, no solid truth behind it. Fuel to those oppressive, heart-shattering feelings.

"I want to stay here. Go have fun, you two" you told them. Kiara nodded, assuring you you could call her should you need anything. She went back outside, but JJ didn't move. The usually laid back, charismatic guy now looked so shy before your eyes.

"Y/N" he called.

"Yes?"

He held his breath.

"Do you want company?"

It caught you off-guard. You blinked, in disbelief.

"What?"

"It's... I'm, sorry, it's fine if you want to be alone" he stuttered. Your gaze couldn't leave his, as you took a step in the front.

"I don't want to be alone" you said "But I don't want to hold you back either."

JJ waved his head in disagreement.

"You're not holding me back. I want to stay here with you, if you want me to."

You tried to ignore your heart nearly jumping out of your chest as you heard him. Conflicted between your small hope and what was real, so you thought, you looked him in the eyes and spoke.

"I would like you to stay here."

He nodded, approaching you. He smelled like the ocean waves clashing against the rocks and sand, a long day at the beach, and maybe a little bit like weed. Still, his presence filled you, and you couldn't help but lean on to hug him. You shyly wrapped your arms around him, and a wight was lifted off your chest when he hugged you back, his arms holding you tight against his body. His hands running through your head, soothing you as your tears ran free.

"Hush now, Y/N" his voice sounded deeper than usual, but caring. You wanted to cry even more, not out of pain but out of commotion.

"Why does this has to happen to me?" you cried "Why am I like this?"

"It is not your fault, Y/N. We all have our inner demons, it's not always an easy battle to fight" he answered, pressing his lips softly against your forehead. You melted into that gesture, a cathartic moment when your wounds were attended to, mended with his touch. It still hurted, but in that touch there was hope that the best was yet to come.

"My demons are such motherfuckers" you said, a small laugh leaving your throat. You smiled as you heard him laughing too.

"But they are no match for you" JJ kissed your forehead lightly again "They are no match for us."

"Us?" you looked up to meet his eyes again. He pulled you closer, until your noses touched.

"Us, because I'm here for you" he answered, smiling "Maybe I haven't showed it, but you are very special to me, Y/N. I like you a lot."

You must have misheard it. Misunderstood it. Could JJ feel the same way about you as you did about him? It seemed so unreal. Too good to be true.

"Are you serious?" you whispered lowly, the thought of stealing a kiss from his lips never leaving your mind. He was so close you could almost feel the warmth of his mouth in your skin. That's when you realize, his lips rest in near the corner of your mouth.

"I am" he answered and you couldn't hold yourself anymore. You pressed your lips against his, briefly kissing him, and pulled away for a moment.

"Is this okay?" the question leaves your mouth. You look at his face and his eyes shine before you.

"Y/N..." he mumbled, but stopped at a loss of words. Instead, he pulled you for a kiss. You melted into him as his lips brushed against yours, soft at first but progressively becoming more eager.

"I have been wanting to do this for so long" he confessed, his lips still lingering on yours.

"So have I..." it was your turn to confess. It still felt so odd that it was really happening, that the guy you were sure didn't have any feelings for you had kissed you. It seemed to good to be true. But as your hands wandered from his shoulders to his face, and he smiled, playing with your hair, you knew it was real.

The party would go on through the night, but you still didn't want to go back. Instead, you fell on the bed, relaxing with JJ by your side. He held you in his arms, soothing your inner turmoil, a reminder that no storm lasted forever. That even when it didn't seem like it, there was hope. There was always hope.

*thanks for reading *

#so... I wrote something #tw: anxiety attack #tw: anxious thoughts #oneshot #outer Banks #obx #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj obx fic #JJ x reader oneshot #hurt/comfort #fluff

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redhawtriot · 5 years ago

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Valentines 💕Weekend 💕(BNHA x Reader)

Part 1: TYPE

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I was just thinking about this as I was pumping out the matchups and I really wanted to jot them down lol

This is just the first things that came to mind when I thought of what people they probably would gravitate towards during Valentines Day!

Comment whose type you are! I am curious lol

HnM💕

��Ojirou: Deep Thinker

I can see him with someone who is really sweet and considerate.

If you say, “remember when…” and then continue to bring up a fond memory between the two of you, he would probably like that a lot. You remembered!

I feel like the poor guy just wants to make a bigger impact.

Their s/o would be the type to remind them of their worth a lot

He would really appreciate a person that would try really hard to get to know him on a different level,

“Would you rather eat 50 tiny spiders or a one big fat juicy tarantula?” He would just look at you with so much confusion but so much LOVE bc Like wtf who asks that?? but he would simultaneously get hit in the feels because you are taking time out of your day to get to know little ol him.

If you’re the type that isn’t very doting, then you’re probably not the best for him.

🎤Jirou: I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T

Wants someone independent, but also who doesn’t have a problem on depending on her.

Like do your thing and live your life, but if she sees you struggling and wants to help you, don’t you fucking dare turn her down.

She would most definitely love it if you were a musician, however If you are not but are interested in music, I could see the two of you having dates with each other where she would teach you how to play guitar.

She needs someone who isn’t too sexual. I feel like she would get annoyed with someone who wanted to have sex every day.

She would much rather spend her time just chilling out with you—existing within each other’s spaces.

If you’re the type that needs constant attention from your s/o when you’re with them, then she prolly isn’t for you.

🥦Midoriya: “I ain’t got no Type”

He is literally a walking, talking puppy dog. He would pretty much like anyone who has well-meaning motives and admirable goals.

You’re loud? Okay you must just be passionate.

You’re quiet? Okay you’re prolly just very pensive

I feel like he is the type that can fall in love with multiple types of people, but they would all have to be the kind of person that makes the first move because woo, chile… he is a nervous wreck. He would probably have an aneurysm in the midst of trying to ask you out, so just take the pressure off of the poor cinnamon roll and do it yourself.

If you’re not the type that likes chasing and would rather be chased, he isn’t for you.

Also get ready to talk about your problems because he is a Cancer and most definitely is willing to deal with emotions.

🐸Tsuyu: Logical

She would certainly like someone who is calm. Bakugou gets on her fucking nerves I can just tell lol.

You can have passion and determination for sure, but she would rather be with someone who carries those attributes quietly, with purpose, rather than boastful.

Like with Jirou, she would probably need someone who would just be okay with existing around each other.

You gotta be okay with her blunt nature.

If you are very sensitive to how people word things to you, and would rather have someone sugarcoat, then she ain’t the one for you, dawg.

💥Bakugou: Ballsy/Not a waste of space

You would have to be persistent as hell to wear down his walls, but not too overbearing or needy. Little things you would do here and there would add up

You would have to solidify yourself as an equal to him as well.

He probably would get annoyed as fuck if you were shy or timid or anything else that he would associate with weakness.

You would have be a person who has their shit together enough to have drive. You gotta have goals in mind and actually be working toward them. He don’t want no scrubs.

I think he would be the type of person to be protective over you, but that certainly doesn’t mean he wants a damsel in distress. You have to be able to hold your own, academically, physically and all.

(Literally just Kirishima whoops)

If you are the type of person who cant speak their mind and is overall nervous or timid you ain’t the one for him.

🏃🏻 Iida: Horse Girl/Guy

He would want someone who is on the same wavelength as him (Lets keep in mind that the wavelength is very hard to come by so he would eventually change his expectations)

He would love if his s/o was as driven as him and held very strong morals.

If you are the kind of person that works out everyday and has a strict diet or color codes your notes and make your own yearly planner or get on Pinterest for room ideas and have a bulletin board in your room with your schedule HAVE I GOT SOME NEWS FOR YOU.

I also feel like he would like horse girls/guys (horse people???) for some reason…

If you’re unnecessarily brash or overconfident or rude you are not the one for him.

😷Shoji: Plain Jane

He probably would want someone who isn’t very chatty, however if you talk a lot, that isn’t a total turn off. He would just want every conversation to have a deeper meaning behind it.

He is also a minimalist so if you are the kind of person who hoards things, you might have to change your lifestyle a bit to be with him.

If you ask questions like, “what is your plan for the zombie apocalypse,” he would certainly entertain this idea and go along with it, trying his best to give you a full, thoughtful answer, but don’t try to make meaningless small talk with him

Also be okay with just existing with each other rather than going out on dates.

If you are extravagant and extra tm then he aint the one for you chief.

😈Tokoyami: Edge Lord

You have to be the kind of person that is okay with his self-deprecation.

You two would make very dark jokes together probably.

If you have ever threatened to gouge your own eyes out or jump off a McDonalds sign to your death Im lookin at you.

Obviously its all jokes—a release to your perpetual state of existentialism.

You would also have to be the person that makes the first move. He would probably get a hint and close the space in between the two of you unlike Midoriya but he would most definitely still need you to make the first move.

He would love it if the two of you could just existent near one another, but would also be understanding if you needed more attention. He would find a happy medium by reading some poetry books aloud to you while you're cuddled up.

👀 Koda: A Soft Boss

You would have to be patient—he has a lot of reservations over pretty much everything.

So he needs someone to be more in charge in the relationship to pull him out of his comfort zone a little.

You have to be okay with being the one in the relationship to kill all of the house spiders (actually probably not kill—more like catch and release)

👣Hagakure: Preppy

You would have to be on pretty much the same vibe as her—energetic, upbeat and unafraid to speak your mind.

She likes people who are overall positive (girl, honestly, idk what else to put for her ass)

🦈Kirishima: One of the Dudes

Manly

You would have to make it very obvious that you were into him. He has a lot of things going on in the little brain of his, so a crush would probably fly over his head. He would just think that he admires you because you're so awesome.

The fact that he wants to hold you would translate into “I wanna arm wrestle them”

The fact that he wants to take you out on dates would turn into, “I want to hang out with my bro.”

You would practically have to scream at him that you wanted him to be more than friends. The friend zone is pretty much an inescapable abyss with this one, so you would have to try extra hard.

If you are the type of person that can sit through hours of action movies and still get pumped during the twelfth high speed chase scene, this might just be your mans.

If you don’t mind him being completely ignorant to your romantic needs at times and you basically just being best friends in your relationship then this might be the man for you.

If you have a habit of lying or a vindictive nature then he isn’t the one for you.

❄️🔥Todoroki: A Therapist

I could see him being with multiple different personalities since he is overall confused with human interaction. I feel like he would be willing to get to know anyone.

You gotta be patient with him though since he takes everything so literal (If you live off sarcasm then it will be super difficult for you)

He would like someone who is very understanding

A good listener, but also can give good feedback.

If you're the kind of person that gets uncomfortable with oversharing or can’t handle when people come to you with their problems all the time he ain’t the one for you.

🎹Yaoyorozu: Cheer-leading Captain

Someone to hype her up, but also lead.

She would certainly certainly be attracted to someone that is of a type A personality. She admires people who are driven and successful, so as long as she sees that you are putting in effort and have a strong sense of determination you're good!

This girl doubts herself so much, so you have to be willing to spend your time hyping her up.

Be willing to try 50 different types of tea.

She would certainly want to go out on dates all of the time, so if you are more of a home body she aint the one.

⚡️Kaminari: Mean Girl/guy

Literally anyone who will give him the time of day, but this boy loves a challenge.

If you are the standoffish, sarcastic, vindictive type then this might be your mans.

He loves rough banter and would totally be the type to pick on you just to see your adorable angry face. He thinks that it ‘spices things up’.

Probably into the more sensual typee of person as well (if you consider yourself a man-eater he would literally fall in love so quickly so be gentle okay? Don’t hurt our pikachu)

I feel like he’s the type of person that would ask you to “Yaaas! Please stomp on my face, kween”

Bonus points if your last name ends in an ‘o’ sound (shinsou, bakugou, jirou, ashido)

He is the type to want to show you off to everyone so if you’re the bashful or timid type then he might not be the one for you.

Mineta: Ew

Moving on… Nothing to see here folks.

🐷Ashido: Two halfs of a Whole Idiot

Needs someone who will hype her up.

You would certainly have to be the one to sweep her off of her feet because I feel like she is so friendly that she just might accidentally friend-zone you without even knowing it.

If you quote vine/tiktoc daily then I am looking at you.

You would probably also live on social media so I could see the two of you being that cute couple on YouTube or Instagram that does silly/sweet things with one another.

If you have a problem with a very loud, obvious relationship then she prolly isn't the one for you.

😴Shinsou: The Mom Friend

He probably wouldn't enjoy someone who was constantly in his face (although if he did end up with someone like this it would be hella slow-burn-- an acquired taste if you will)

He would probably gravitate toward someone who calmly checks up on him and who he could lean on to give him motivational speeches.

This boy is low-key emotional and has low self esteem, so if you are good at reaching through to him then he would certainly fall for you.

I think that he would be the type to eventually become very affectionate and want to take you out on hella dates to (passively) show you off to the world.

If you are hyperactive and loud that might make him close himself off before you can break his emotional wall, so he might not be the one for you.

✨Aoyama: Ego Booster/Ballerina

someone who will believe in him and compliment him (or even just acknowledge his existence actually)

I could totally see him dating a ballerina, because he would be so enamored by their majesty.

Like he finally found someone as magnifique as him, wow.

You would have to be the type of person that is okay with very forward advances.

Like get prepared for “will you go out with me?” spelled in cheese by your front door.

If you cant handle people who chase this hard, then he might not be the one for you.

🎞Sero: Not the Sharpest Tool in the Shed

He is idiot sexual and no one can change my mind

If you find yourself searching your kitchen every five minutes to check if there is new food, walking into a room of your friends to annoy them for five minutes before leaving, or have a album in your phone with over 1,000 reaction pics, I am lookin at youuuuu!

He would most definitely be the person to chase, but he would do it very carefully to test the waters.

He wouldn't chase too hard, so if his advancements would go over your head the first time you're in trouble!

☁️Uraraka: Girl/Boy Next Door

She would fall for a sweet guy/girl.

they would have to be an overall, kind spirit, but still have great goals.

If you're the type of person that can goes “Oh look at the moon!” and then ends up talking about a random topic like Bigfoot or aliens while looking at the stars, I could see her falling for you.

More than anything I feel like she admires driven people, so if you have shaky or unsure morals or goals, she probably isnt the one for you.

#bnha #mha #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #kaminari x reader #uraraka x reader #iida x reader #shinsou x reader #katsuki bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 6 years ago

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Qualified

Based off this post by @stop-it-anxiety

Summary: Virgil’s usual therapist was... unique. The man who just slumped into his seat is even unique-r. Of everything Virgil expected from the stranger, it definitely wasn’t actual advice. Pairings: Platonic sleepxiety, romantic remile, background LAMP, background RED Warnings: Sympathetic deceit (mentioned), food mention (kinda), like one swear, fears of abandonment

Virgil hadn’t been thrilled about going to see yet another therapist. One too many bad experiences in the past had made him extremely hesitant when his boyfriends told him about Dr. Emile Picani.

True to their word, however, Emile had been… unique, somehow in a good way. His methods weren’t orthodox, in any sense of the word, but they worked. It helped that Emile had seemed so familiar almost immediately, a feeling Virgil later attributed to how similar yet different he was from his boyfriends- logical like Logan, yet extremely bubbly like Patton. And for Roman, so much Disney. So, so much Disney.

But it worked. Emile’s general kookiness and tendency to link problems to cartoons put Virgil more at ease than any clinical outlook at his problems ever had. It had been a few months since he first got asked, “Do you how do?” and he was doing surprisingly great.

So, of course, now was the perfect time for things to go upside down.

He had been anxiously checking the clock- it was normal for Emile to come in a little bit after the patient; he always had some dramatic entrance planned (Virgil was still finding glitter in his clothes from the time he had used a sparkle bomb), but five minutes late? The doc was normally very punctual- when the door opened. He glanced over, expecting to see Emile doing something positively ridiculous.

Instead, someone in a black leather jacket and sunglasses breezed into the room, flopping into Emile’s chair and throwing their legs over one of the arms. Virgil watched, bewildered, as the stranger took a long sip from their starbucks cup.

“So,” They drawled, letting their head roll to the side so they were actually looking at Virgil, “tell me about your emotional shit.”

Virgil frowned, confused. “...Who are you?”

“Emile is sick, so I’m your stand-in therapist.”

“Did you even go to medical school?”

“Listen, babes, we’re here to talk about you, not my qualifications.” They answered, taking another sip of their drink.

Virgil crossed his arms. “Yeah, because talking to a wannabe rock star whose name I don’t even know and has probably never seen a degree of higher learning is going to do me a lot of good.”

“You forgot caffeine addicted, sugar.” They replied, unfazed. “And if you want my name so bad, it’s Remy.”

“Great.” Virgil said sarcastically. “Random stranger Remy, wannabe rock star with a coffee addiction, wants to try and help me solve my problems.”

“Random stranger?” Remy repeated, sounding faux hurt. “I’m just a random stranger to you?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Yeah I got that bit.” Remy responded. “I’m hung up on the fact that you’ve never heard of me.”

“Should I have?”

Remy frowned, though he still sounded more amused than upset as he grumbled, “Figures Em would be responsible… not talking about his personal life with his patients…”

“Actually, that reminds me.” Virgil said, mostly ignoring the mumbles. “How do you even know Emile? Are you a past patient with an authority complex, or-”

“I’m his better boyfriend.” Remy said, cutting Virgil off.

Virgil scoffed. “Better? Oh, so it’s a superiority complex.”

“Nah, it’s just the truth.” Remy countered. “See, Dante’s a knockout of a man, but he’s not willing to step up to bat when it matters. ‘Em’s sick, we should cancel his appointments.’ ‘No, Rem, you playing therapist is not a good idea.’ ‘I think you drinking another coffee right now will kill you do you really think you can offer any form of sane therapy.’ He’s such a killjoy.”

“Did you ever consider he might have been right?”

“Very briefly, yes.” Remy admitted with another sip of what Virgil now suspected to be a supposedly fatal coffee. “But listening to him wouldn’t have been much fun.”

“So you decided to disturb your boyfriend’s patients?”

“Of course not!” Remy replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m here to disturb a patient. You’re the only person Em was seeing today, so here I am! To deliver you helpful emotional advice!”

Virgil chuckled. “Yeah, that’s going to go well.”

“Well it might if you actually told me something.” Remy said, shifting in the chair so his legs were hooked over the top and his head was dangling above the ground. “Spill the tea, hunny.” He ordered while, somehow, taking a sip of his drink and neither spilling nor choking on it.

“How- How are you doing that?” Virgil asked, thinking back to his one attempt to drink upside down. It had ended with a ruined shirt and a good two minutes of choked panic.

“It’s an artform. Now spillllllllllll.”

“This is extremely unprofessional.” Virgil responded before continuing, “But things are fine. There’s the fear of abandonment but that’s nothing new-”

“Don’t care if it isn’t new.” Remy said, stopping Virgil. “Sounds important. Let’s start there.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow questioningly. “You actually want to try and do something helpful?”

“Did you think I wanted to hear about your most likely boring life for kicks?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“You give me no credit, babe. Just because I’m not certified to say helpful shit doesn’t mean I can’t.” Remy smirked. “Maybe you haven’t heard, but one of my boyfriends is a therapist. I’ve learned a lot from him.”

“I find that doubtful, but go wild.” Virgil said, leaning back into the couch.

Remy placed his cup down next to his head before pressing his hands together like a prayer beneath (or in this case, over) his chin. He wouldn’t have looked serious if he was sitting right-side up, but upside down just made him look even dorkier than his cartoon-adoring partner.

“Tell me, Virgil, why do you have abandonment issues?” He asked, sounding about as professional as a five-year-old playing doctor.

“The universe hates me.”

“Mmhmmm yes yes let me write this down.” Remy said, nodding as he dug into his jean pocket, pulling out a silver sharpie, rolling down his jacket sleeve and scribbling ‘universe sucks’ on his arm. “Could you elaborate on that? How does it make you feel?”

“Like I’m going to be abandoned.”

Remy nodded again. “I see… have you considered the possibility that you are, in fact, not going to be abandoned?”

“Miracle of miracle- my problems are solved!”

“No need to be so sarcastic.” Remy said, jabbing his sharpie at Virgil. “My solution is airtight. But if you insist on being ‘complicated’ and having ‘complex problems’ you should probably tell me why you think everyone is going to abandon you for reasons other than the general hatred of the universe focused against you.”

Virgil chuckled. “That’s a lot of big words you strung together.”

“And that’s some very good discussion redirection you’re doing.”

Virgil clicked his tongue. Mr. Indoor Sunglasses and Afternoon Coffee was smarter than he seemed. “Listen, I realize I’m worth a lot more than I thought before I started meeting with Emile. But I’m still nowhere on the level anyone I know is. The other shoe’s gotta fall and I am, stupidly, still afraid for it.”

Remy started writing on his arm again, making bullets beneath the ‘universe sucks statement’;

-’Imposter’ boi

-Sad boi

-Stupid boi

“Hey!” Virgil exclaimed defensively. “‘Stupid boi?’ I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better about my self-worth or something, not attack me.”

“You’ve clearly got that front covered, love, I don’t even have to touch it.” Remy replied, putting a little star next to the last bullet point for emphasis. “But while you cover the attacks, I’ll focus on the facts.”

“Nice rhyme.”

“I’m good like that. Now I’m not allowed to look at Em’s notes because patient confidentiality or something silly and highly technical, so you’re gonna have to lend me a hand here- who are you afraid will abandon you? Y’know, aside from everyone.”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know. My boyfriends I guess.”

“How long have y’all been dating?”

“Two and a half years.”

“...Sugar, I don’t know how to explain the concept of ‘if they haven’t left yet they ain’t gonna leave ever’ to you but-”

Virgil cut him off, “That is not how relationships work. If it was the divorce rates would be a lot lower.”

“You miss my point.” Remy said with a sigh, righting himself in the chair and for the first time that day looking actually serious. “Do relationships fail? Yes, it sucks, but it can happen to a couple of fifty years. That’s just life, sweetheart, I won’t sugarcoat it.”

“Helpful.”

“Let me finish. When those relationships fail, it’s because a fight or an opinion they didn’t know the other had comes up. Or something, I don’t know, I’m not a relationship counselor.” Remy added with a shrug. “What I do know, is that relationships that have existed for longer than six months don’t break up because they suddenly think one of them is worthless or some other bullshit. If your bfs are that pretentious, they would’ve dropped you ages ago-”

“My self-esteem is doing amazingly, thanks-”

“-and you would have been the better for it.” Remy finished, waving a finger. “You really need to stop interrupting. You miss the best parts.”

“...What do you mean?” Virgil asked, pausing as he actually processed what Remy had said. Remy smiled, and it must have been the most gentle and genuine one he had worn all day.

“Whether or not you’ll admit it, Virgil, you have worth. A whole hecking lot of it, as my cartoonish partner would say. If your boyfriends had left you in the beginning, it would have been their loss. And I find it highly doubtful they’re going to let you escape them now.” Remy leaned in a bit, smile morphing into a more mischievous one as he added in a stage whisper, “And if they do, I’ll help you egg their house.”

Virgil laughed at that. “Y’know,” He started after a moment, still smiling, “you’re not as incompetent as you look.”

“The secret is setting expectations so low, any single thing you do right is an overachievement.” Remy told him as he stood up, dramatically stretching before picking his coffee cup back up. “Now, as much fun as beating your problems with a stick is, the session’s over, and I have two boyfriends to annoy.”

“Even the sick one?”

“Annoyance is my primary personality trait. He knew the sort of caregiving he was signing up for.” Remy said as he moved towards the door. He stopped in the doorway for a second to turn back to Virgil with a wave. “Toodles, babes!”

And then he was gone, just about as dramatically as he had come. Virgil remained seated on the couch for a moment, shaking his head with a smile.

When he finally convinced himself to head out to the parking lot, he found Patton waiting, sitting on the hood of his car. He grinned broadly and waved when he spotted Virgil, greeting him with a kiss.

“How was it today?” Patton asked while Virgil moved for the passenger door. “You were in longer than usual. Session run late?”

Virgil shook his head with a chuckle. “Nah. Today was just… unique.”

“Good unique or bad unique?” Patton asked hesitantly.

“Good unique.” Virgil reassured him. “I’ll tell you what happened once we meet up with the pen and the sword.”

Patton raised his eyebrows. “Oh, nicknames? Someone’s happy!”

“Yeah, Pat, I am.”

Patton smiled even bigger and turned on the car.

“Loves, your favorite bitch it back!”

The house quietly regarded Remy with no response. Remy frowned as he dropped his sunglasses on the small table in the hall. He wandered to the bedroom, finding Emile curled up and watching Steven Universe, not even noticing Remy’s entrance.

Smiling, Remy snuck around the bed, shrugging off his jacket before sliding into the bed and hugging Emile from behind. Startled, Emile turned his head, relaxing when he realized it was Remy.

“Oh, hi Rem.” Emile said, sleepy, before his eyes widened. He tried to pull away from Remy. “You’re going to get yourself sick.”

Remy just tightened his grip and laughed. “I have no immune system, love, I’ve been destined to get sick since your first sneeze. Plus, I will risk illness for attention and cuddles. Where’s Dante? I want triple cuddles.”

Emile gave up trying to escape the hug, instead rolling his head so he could partially tuck it into Remy’s shoulder. “He’s getting me ice cream.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m sick and I said please.”

“I thought ice cream was ‘unhealthy’ and ‘not for sick people.’”

“Dante said that because when you were sick, it was from drinking too much coffee.” Emile replied. “Speaking of, you didn’t pick up any on the way to my session, did you?”

“...No?”

“Rem.”

Remy chuckled and pressed a kiss to Emile’s temple. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m not going to allow for a repeat of the Coffee Disaster of May.”

“Hmm.” Emile hummed, disbelievingly. “How was Virgil?”

“Pretty good. Worried about his boyfriends leaving him but I casually called him stupid and everything was fixed.”

“This is why no one believes you went to med school.”

Remy twisted his head a bit to smirk at Emile. “Hey, my complete lack of professionalism is the entire reason you get to be the psych doc without even having to think about student loans.”

“I know.” Emile said, moving up so he could kiss Remy. “It’s why I love you.”

“Oh, so all I am to you is a free bachelor's and master’s degree?”

“It’s one of the many reasons I love you.” Emile amended, yawning as he curled closer to Remy. “Along with the fact you’re a great hugger.”

“And to think you tried to escape my hug but five minutes ago.” Remy teased, but he curled in a little more as well, quietly watching Steven Universe with his boyfriend as they both gradually fell asleep.

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bdneiceme · 5 years ago

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Changes....

Every year, at the end of the year, I always do a reflection of what the year has taught me. More recently I began writing Facebook posts, but 2019 taught me so much that I figured a blog would be much better...

2019, all in all, wasn’t a bad year at all. Uncomfortable? Extremely! Bad? No. I will say, it definitely wasn’t “my year”. I grew in ways that I could of never guessed. I hit record lows, but I gracefully recovered. And with God’s grace I’ll be blessed to enter into the last year of my 20s next week. So here are some take-a-ways that I learned.

1. Rejection is necessary. I can honestly say, my life has been extremely easy for the most part. The life I’ve experienced doesn’t hold a candle to some of my friends. It was imperative that I understood the string of losing, and constantly losing at that, so that I could appreciate how much life has been a breeze. I have seen more closed doors this year than ever in my life. I was angry. I was pissed. It was everybody else, and never me. It became a lot...It wasn’t until I talked to God that I understood that the rejection was protection. Even though the closed door looked like the end of the World, what was on the side coulda been way worse. Learning to take rejection and not turn it inward is an uphill battle, but 2019 definitely equipped me to better navigate those feelings. I’m grateful.

2. Love isn’t enough. With Disney+ shaking the table and having all streaming sites shook, it’s a good time to revisit a lot of our favorite childhood movies. When I was a Therapist I would refer to the “Disney effect” that many Millennials, in my opinion, are cursed with. We saw so many Princesses fall in love, go through trauma, but in the end true love prevailed. In my own opinion, we allowed Disney to romanticize some downright awful relationship standards and through some fairy tale music to it. And now many of us still follow under the unction that “true love” will always be enough. I believed it too, until it wasn’t. I found myself in a relationship this year that I was literally blindsided with. I ignored all logic and hanging out a few times a week turned into a year and half of complete and utter bullshit. Time wasted because love wasn’t enough. That little voice, the pit in your stomach, the lump in your throat...that’s not fear of commitment. That’s God literally giving you signs that, “This ain’t it Chief!” Listen to it ! If you start allowing it, you’ll have to continue to allow it and you don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve that. So I cleaned the slate. I pay T-Mobile every month for an alarm clock, but that’s okay. The peace I have is so much greater. I guess my first point goes hand-in-hand with this one. Though I felt rejected, I THANK GOD FOR HIS PROTECTION ! I’m grateful. P.S. Don’t become what hurt you !

3. “No new friends”. When Drake released that track I instantly caught an attitude. At the time, my new friends was better than my old ones and I didn’t get it. Until I did. I felt so alone this year. Not depressed. Just alone. This year I had to depend on me. I didn’t have the support that I desired, I wanted. I went through some of the darkest moments of my life alone. This isn’t a jab at my friends, but I had no idea how much I needed to be alone. I needed to depend on me and only me. I had to be isolated. I didn’t need anyone to try to sugarcoat the reality of me at a fork in the road. I couldn’t afford to fallback into the same pattern of things. Truth is some of the closest people to you will stunt your growth because they don’t want to see you grow, because what happens when they outgrow you? So they plant seeds by telling you it’s everybody else and not you. So while you stay stagnant, they grow, and eventually they’re the ones that outgrow you ! I thought I was abandoned. Friends that I thought I could lean on, I realized quickly, they were not my friends. Friends I had for years were now acquaintances. I was alone. But in those moments, I found me. I had the tough conversations about my own toxic, negative behavior, and in those moments I became a better version of myself. And now I’ve met me again. I’ve been able to meet people,and let my own guard down, who really do care about little ole me. I’ve rekindled friendships that I hindered, some hindered me. But all-in-all, I’m grateful.

4. The power of no. I give great advice. Like really good, but I don’t always listen to my own, but I do give it. I had to learn to say no. This year I felt so drained, until I started saying no. I really do think it means something when someone calls when they could of called anybody. But in the same breath, can you call them? Because of that little revelation I’ll tell someone in a heartbeat now, HELL NO ! Lol but serious when I’m not in a good head space, I tell people I’m sorry, I can’t today, we’ll have to talk about it later. I’m not losing my own sanity so you can process through yours. I’m not caring the weight of your burdens so I can weigh my own self down. I can’t. I won’t. Stress literally triggers so many physical responses that I literally started dealing with my anxiety again. Like can’t breath, gotta take a walk or a drive because I’m so overwhelmed, overstimulated. So I learned to say no. The attitudes will catch you off guard initially, but the freedom of ‘no’ goes a long way. My phone LIVES on DND 🤧 because I’m allowed to be selfish with my time. I’m allowed to not want to hear bad news. My spirit feels lighter. My mind stop racing, I was able to rest, all because I learned the power of no. I’m grateful.

5. Silence is golden. My mother used to tell me all the time that just because something needs to be said doesn’t mean you have to be the spokesperson. Earlier in the year I defended someone who I truly do care about. Ch...I got called everything but a child of God after I did it lol. It doesn’t matter what was actually said, because of my personality anything I say or do is always dragged to the 10th degree. So by the time I read through texts and phone calls, I was, yet again, the wrong one. But the situation taught me that because people already have so many preconceived notions about who and what we are anyway, why waste my time, energy and breath. Learning to silence myself and let things be what they’ll be has truly been a journey. I internalize a lot. Like a lot. I genuinely like to be liked by people. But this year I learned those committed to misunderstanding you will always do just that. I may do some off the wall stuff but my heart is pure. I’ve helped people who have slandered my name and I never told a soul what they did to me, and never will. As sure as I’m writing this blog, it’ll come out. It always does. But I what I have to learn to do is not allow someone to pull that type of behavior out of me. I even started going back to therapy because of it. I’m learning. I’m growing. I’m grateful.

6. It’s okay to be mad, just don’t stay mad. I’ve spent so much of my life bitter. Truth is I wasn’t over so many of the things that were done to me and instead of telling someone I let it turn me bitter. I was angry. I was hurting. I saw so many of my peers have people to lean on and mentor them through the processes and then there was me....I hated it. I still felt like a 6 year old little girl some days. As a child, I was talked about like I was grown. So once I got older, I learned to snap back 10x harder to ensure the disrespect would never occur again. You hurt my feelings? Cool, I’ll demolish yours. 🤷🏽‍♀️ But at 28 who tf wants to live like that? I wasn’t raised like that. It was draining. Then people looked at me to be the bitter one. You know the “jokes” they tell but in all actuality it’s the shade they don’t want to say flat out. It was my narrative. I was sick of it. Letting that fester....it ate at me. I had to give it to God. I always desired to be like everybody else until God touched my heart. It’s a process, but I’m better ! He’s healing me. Working on me. Allowing me the unique opportunity to grow through my own issues has allowed me to give grace to others for theirs. I’m grateful.

7. I’m sorry. I’m ending the blog with 7 points because this one is the most important. I’m learning to take responsibility for my own mistakes. Having the courage to embrace my own shortcomings. I apologize to those I ridiculed, betrayed, lied to, beat up 🥴, humiliated, embarrassed and disrespected. I know this doesn’t excuse the offense, but from the bottom of my heart I’m sorry. In my own disappointments and insecurities I took it out on you, and that you didn’t deserve. Learning to swallow your own pride makes room for the blessings you let pass you by, because your heart wasn’t in the right place. My heart is healing and I literally squirm thinking about some of my past behaviors. At the time, I meant every bit of it, because I was operating from a hurt place. I never gave myself an apology for the person I was trying to survive. I’m trying. Learning to not allow what happened to me, consume me. Forgiving myself for every mistake. Owning who I am and who I am called to be. I don’t want to turn 40 and then start living life 😕 I want to do it now. But I couldn’t get to it because I was my own stumbling block. God has a funny way of humbling you, but what he will do is just that, humble you ! And because of that humility, I can now let some light in I know how wrong I was, but the glory is...it’s a process...but I’m grateful.

I made sure to end every point with ‘I’m grateful’ because I truly am grateful. I’m grateful for it all. The good. The bad. The ugly. I’m grateful. Why? Because I’m still here, so that means it didn’t kill me. It could of, but it didn’t ! This year, this decade....taught me so much. My goodness my 20s taught me some things okay lol but I thank God for the grace He gave me to try to get it right. I’m ready for Scene 29 and I am beyond ready to see what 2020 has to offer ! I deserve it ! Be grateful !

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forbesjames96 · 4 years ago

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Save Your Long Distance Relationship Incredible Useful Ideas

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#Save Your Long Distance Relationship Incredible Useful Ideas #Dua To Avoid Divorce

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swanderful1 · 7 years ago

Text

A Cold Awakening: Ch 17/?

Notes: So so sorry for the repost, it's the same chapter I just had to fix it so the whole post wasn't occupying all of everyones feeds. I unfortunately, am not very tumblr savvy so that mistake is on me. If the majority of the work still isn't under the cut please, please let me know! Thanks!

Summary: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT

Rating: M!!!!!!!

Word Count: ~7000

The whole work is on AO3 and ffnet

Enjoy! Read, comment, reach out! I love to hear from people!

Emma left the conference room with Killian, a place where she had been gentle and caring. Her voice soft with concern for the man who she had come to know so well and feel for so deeply. After he had left, and now that she was walking into another room to deal with Gold, her mood had changed considerably.

The man in question sat at a table opposite Graham. The metal chairs and table the only furniture in the room, the sparse look of its cinderblock framework not leaving anything to interpretation. If you were in this room, on the opposite end of questions, you were in trouble. It was a place Emma had spent many a time in here grilling adolescents for vandalism, getting confessions for shoplifting, nothing of this caliber though. And if she said she wasn’t a bit nervous she would be lying. But any nerves she had about the situation were completely overtaken by the amount of anger she had toward Robert Gold right now.

“Alright,” Emma said as she sat down in the seat next to Graham, who had already been questioning Gold for an hour to no avail, and hopefully he could prevent her from ringing this guy’s neck. She took a few deep breaths before opening her mouth again, “so I won’t sugarcoat this… it doesn’t look good for you right now.”

Gold didn’t say anything back, just leaning back in the chair crossing his arms over his chest. A smug look on his face. But beyond that Emma could tell he was nervous. She saw the way his bottom lip twitched in the absence of him speaking. The restricted body language, the small beads of sweat that formed on his forehead after being in the windowless room.

“From what I’ve heard you haven’t been very talkative this morning, Mr. Gold.” Emma started off. David had filled her in in the hall.

“Why should I be? I was ripped from my home this morning, held in this room, about a murder that happened twenty years ago.”

“For good reason.” She was fuming. The sheer arrogance of Gold in this scenario. He knew he was caught, that much was clear in his behavior. The deflection was solely for his ego. “The murder weapon was found in your shop, there’s physical evidence you carried on an illicit affair with one of the murder victims and harbored aggressive resentment for the other murder victim, namely her husband. Her goddamn ring was in your shop. Shall I continue?”

He leaned forward, pressing his forearms to the metal surface. “Do you really want to do this? Have Neal lose another parent?”

His gold tooth hit the fluorescent light and beamed as he ended on the word parent. Emma thought steam may come out of her ears. How dare he try to guilt her out of doing her job. How dare he bring Neal into this anymore than he already was. It was low. And it was nasty.

“We’ve got a double murder, that happened twenty years ago, and all of the arrows are pointing toward you,” she said, meeting his eyes with hers. Anger boiling beneath the surface of her skin.

“And what exactly are those arrows, deputy? Because from my view it seems like you have questions that still need answered.” The words on his lips sounded vicious even in their simplicity. There wasn’t a part of Emma that trusted him.

“I do need more answers, and you’re going to give them to me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because if you want your son to ever speak to you again, you’ll do the right thing and cooperate.” She didn’t want to do it. Emma didn’t want to bring Neal into it. He was too good for this, but there was so much that tied Emma to this case she knew she would have to go low to get what she wanted.

If Gold was angered by the comment he made no show of it, but there was no way what Emma had said didn’t land. It got to him, whether he wanted to show it or not. Because at the end of the day, he knew she was right. There was a high likelihood Neal would cease all contact with his father when he found this out. Almost certainly. Eventually Neal would probably talk to his father again but Emma had fought with her ex enough to know how he handled conflict in his life. And this scenario was… completely unprecedented. He motioned his hand, as if to give her permission to speak, as if she didn’t already have it.

“Now that we understand each other…” Emma pulled her notebook and pen out, ready to jot things down despite the fact that the whole interaction was being recorded on camera. She was old school in that way. “When did you meet Moira Jones?”

“We met long before either of us were married…” His hand reached up and ran beneath his chin, probably a nervous tick. “She was… rather eye-catching. I was working at a coffee shop.”

His eyes looked beyond Emma now, focused on something behind her. If she didn’t know any better she would say he was getting emotional?

“She came in every day and ordered the same thing, had this lovely accent.” A smile. “I didn’t think she knew who I was… and then one day she saw me in the park, not in my uniform, and we got to talking.”

“When did it go south?” Graham asked, easing Gold into the story. He was clearly able to tell it. And he wasn’t lying Emma made sure of that. The words coming out of his mouth were nothing but the truth.

“When she met her husband.”

“But you two still carried on?” Emma jotted little things down as she listened to him talk.

“Brennan was… everything her parents wanted her to marry. And she didn’t want to disappoint them. So she made me a deal.”

“What was that?”

“She would marry him, but we would still be together in secret.” He looked back to Emma. “I said no… initially.”

Emma lifted her pen to her mouth, going over the timeline in her head that she had from Archie, the man who had also been a therapist for Moira Jones. How he had told Emma that Moira and her lover had taken time from each other. That he thought Moira’s affair picked up 5 years before she was murdered. But Emma knew it had been longer.

“How long did the two of you stop?” Emma eyed him, careful to make note of exactly how long things had stopped… and if he would dare lie about it.

“About a year before her first child was born…”

He told the love story Emma had long been trying to piece together. Giving her what she had needed all along. How he had posed as a “doctor” so he could see her in her home. The town of Storybrooke too small and gossipy to risk seeing each other in a public place. He had moved here from an even smaller town, following Moira’s lead. He was backed into a corner, knew there wasn’t a way for him to work his way out of this one. All they would need was his fingerprints on the knife and the blood test to show it belonged to either Jones. That which would arrive later that week and had already been sent away. Emma tried not to get too emotional, thinking of having to see Neal later. Gold would probably be in the holding cell at the station until the knife came back.

“The night of the murder, how was it that you ended up at the Jones house?” Emma urged, the last pieces of the story needing to fit together.

“She had planned to leave Brennan… that fall. My wife had long left me, I had my son. But I thought I could make it work…” his voice shook as he spoke, the normally confident, arrogant man gone. To reveal a version of Robert Gold she had never seen before. “And then the night before she was going to leave him she backed out. I guess Brennan had caught her packing and…. Well he got rough with her. ”

The room silent, the emotion so thick. Emma could picture the Jones family in the stately home now in such disrepair. Going off on each other, Brennan terrifying Moira. The idea of it all being kept behind such closed doors making the stakes much higher.

“It had happened before, she would promise to leave. Then she would take it back, telling me it wasn’t the right time. Not the right place.” He paused, hands shaking more now than ever. “And then he started to hit her. She was terrified of him. So I went there that night with the intention of standing up to him, and taking her away.

“But when it came time to leave she wouldn’t. Brennan had known for years, everything that went on. He only cared when it had the potential of being public. He did it all, pulled all of her strings. Took her out of his will, threatened to take the boys, anything to keep her there. He paralyzed her emotionally and despite everything, those boys were above all else.”

He took a long pause, scratching his nose, sucking in a deep breath. But Emma and Graham didn’t push him. They didn’t have to.

“She wouldn’t go. She never would. That night…. I… I never intended to hurt her. She was everything me. But after I had stabbed Brennan, she still defended him. As if he would magically come back.”

Another sharp intake of breath. A thick layer of tears. A look that could only be described as a mix of shame and regret.

“She would have never run away with me. Nor would she have ever forgiven me….” His head fell to his hands. Reliving every second of that night as he told it. “I was angry, hurt, irrational. Before I could stop myself I did to her what I had done to her husband. Then I ran. I took the knife, I left them there. I never spoke of it again.”

Emma had never expected him to be so… emotional. He was a cold man. A manipulative man. Even before all of this she hadn’t trusted him, he was slithery. And as she heard him tell his side of things, the only side of things they would ever have, she realized why Moira had stayed with her husband but kept Gold in her life. She felt trapped between two men who terrified her. Emma felt terrible. Her heart aching for the woman who had been in so much pain, so much turmoil for so long. Emma had gotten her confession, the admission of guilt from the murderer himself. In spite of all that she felt no relief. Perhaps it was the impending conversation she would have with Neal. Perhaps it was all of the pain Killian had been through because of the man in front of her.

Graham looked over at Emma, realizing she was about to break. He nodded, standing from the table to put the cuffs on Gold to arrest him. Allowing Emma to breathe. She stood and watched it happen, the silver links tying his wrists together. Graham ushering Gold out of the room. It felt like the whole world had gone silent, and there was only a ringing in Emma’s ears. Watching in slow motion as the answer to her work left her alone in the room.

Two days later, Emma was back in the office. Working with Ruby on trying to figure out who had been sending the clues. Neal and Henry had come home Sunday night. A tired, teary eyed Emma pulled Neal aside as he was dropping Henry off at her house. They sat on her porch over iced tea as she told him what all had happened.

“I just… I can’t believe it…” Neal overcome with emotion, leaned forward in the rocking chair to rest his head in his hands. “The bastard…”

“Did you have any idea he was having an affair?” Emma asked after a long while of them sitting on the porch. Neal’s reaction going from angry to sad to silent. She let him do what he needed. Hating that she was the one who told him. His heart breaking at the disappointment in one of his parents yet again.

“Honestly, I thought maybe, but then my mom left and he was okay for a while. And then I got older and didn’t really pay too much attention to him…” Neal’s eyes were tear stained, the same eyes he had passed along to their son.

“You know you always have our family, Neal, you don’t have to go through this alone.” She reached out and rubbed some of the tension out of his shoulder.

“I know…” He offered the only smile he could at the moment, “I guess we’ll have to let Henry know.”

They both looked in through the porch window that led into the living room. Where Henry sat watching tv. Completely unaware of the conversation happening between his parents.

“I can do it, if you just need some time,” Emma said.

“No. It’s okay, I can, we can do it together.”

They went into the house and broke the news to their son. Sparing him the illicit details. He didn’t need to know everything, just the basics. He was upset, rightfully so. He and Neal spent the night on the couch, just keeping each other company. Emma wasn’t far, she made one of the few things she could - popcorn. All of them just needed to feel like they had a family right now.

And now, the hunt was on for the person behind the clues. The ease of mind that came from locking up Gold was short lived when they had other people to apprehend. Emma had her suspicions but nothing concrete. She thought back to Sunday. When she had asked Belle about the murder weapon, and the woman had so willingly led her right to it. Then Emma thought of her initial suspicions. How the person had known exactly how to avoid being caught, how there was rarely a slip up in months worth of clues. How Emma had thought that it could have been an inside job. It made sense. But there was nothing of interest at Gold and Belle’s house. Nor the shop. It was another dead end. Though it didn’t keep Emma from digging.

Belle would make sense, perhaps she found something or knew something of Gold’s affair but like Moira was scared to come to the police with it. She could have reasoned out the scheme and planned it knowing all of the tricks of the trade. All week Emma and Ruby worked on this theory, worked to find something, anything that would give her reason to suspect Belle. But if the brunette had been the one behind the clues she wasn’t stupid. Knowing the end game goal of the thing to be the arrest of her husband, she wouldn’t have left anything incriminating behind. It would require a large amount of hunting, and the barest clue would give them what they needed. Assuming Emma’s answer was even correct, but no one else had come up with another solution. So for the time being it was what they were rolling with.

Friday night, Emma came home from the most emotionally, mentally, physically exhausting week of work she had ever experienced. She had the house to herself. Henry with his father, still reeling themselves from everything that had happened. Emma did her best to comfort her ex and her son in the wake of what had gone on but there was only so much she could do. So after four nights in a row of spending hours with the boys, she took the night to be alone.

The house quiet with emptiness she took in the vast space. While she loved having people in the house, and the little sounds that came from that, the silence was nice. The wood floors clean from a week of no feet, the kitchen free of dirty dishes, everything neatly tucked into its place. Emma breathed in the smell of home. Closing her eyes to block her mind out from the week that had led to this quiet. For a few moments she just stood.

Once her mind had been effectively calmed, she proceeded to go upstairs and soak herself in the goddamn tub for probably close to an hour. She had brought a book along with her, as if her mind could even handle the mere task at this stage of the day. Emma ended up mostly just laying her head on the lip of the clawfoot tub and allowing the stress to fall off her body like the droplets of water gliding down her skin. And for the first time, really ever, she wished she wasn’t alone in the bath tub.

Sunday. Nearly 5 days ago. Had been the last she had seen of Killian. She had tried calling him, he had tried calling her. A few texts were shared but they just weren’t on the same wavelength this week. It wasn’t great, after the past few weeks when they had spent so much of their time together. So many nights wrapped in each other, to go without that, even for a few days was hard. As much as she didn’t want to admit it she missed him. But at the same time Emma knew he needed time, and he knew she had a lot of work to do. So perhaps they were more in tune with one another than she thought.

Perhaps she could go over to his place again, surprise him, release some more of the tension pent up in her body from the week. Emma thought of the night before they arrested Gold. When she had shown up at Killian’s hotel and stayed there with him, his words just as clear now in her head, “I want to make love to you”. It had made her shiver with desire down to the fibers of her bones. And it wasn’t just the promise of physical contact with him, it was something more. She wasn’t stupid, stubborn definitely, but she knew what it felt like to fall for someone. It had happened so few times in her life that it was unfamiliar but still not unwelcome.

But when she climbed out of the tub to get dressed to head over to see Killian, she doubted herself. The last move had been hers. She had shown up there. She had initiated it. There was a selfish part of her that wanted him to do the same for her. After all, the case was drawing to a close, perhaps he had only been interested in her because she was a convenient fuck. Thinking beyond the case, or at the very least talking about it out loud, had never been something they had addressed. Maybe that was because he didn’t want anything further. He had a career, a life, in a whole other country. How could she possibly fit into that?

After toweling off and climbing into leggings and a t-shirt she felt better. Clean. Relaxed even, her muscles loose from the warm water of the bath. When she entered her bedroom it was entirely dark, the evening sun was setting leaving a scarce amount of light. Emma flicked on lights as she padded her way through the house, headed for the kitchen to make herself something to eat.

The house was still quiet, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the front hall was the only noise around her. She thought of turning on some music but decided it would be better without it. Using her limited cooking skills Emma took out the supplies for the one meal she could actually make well…. Macaroni and cheese. Someday maybe she could benefit from watching her son prepare food. Henry was quite talented, she could learn a thing or two. But for now this would have to do. Her stomach was turning in on itself, for many reasons, but one was probably lack of food since lunch. She poured herself a glass of the only wine she had in the house at the moment. A sweet riesling she kept in the back of her fridge. There was no part of her that wanted to leave the house again tonight, so it would have to do.

Emma took a sip of her wine before setting it on the counter and filling a pot with water for dinner. She was about to light the stove when there was a very distinct knock on the front door. She leaned away from her task to try and see who was at the front door but it was nearly impossible in the dark so she conceded to walk down the hallway and see for herself.

Opening the door, knowing who was on the other side, she felt her heart grow lighter. Her mind quiet now that the man occupying her thoughts was now standing in front of her. Killian. She tried her best to mask the relief she felt, that he was here at her house. Because as much as she tried to remain casual about their whole dynamic, there was more beneath the surface of it. And while the thought of having an actual conversation with him about what happens next terrified her, it also excited her.

“Hi,” she said, not knowing anything better to greet him with. As the nature of his visit wasn’t exactly made clear to her. It was earlier than they usually saw each other. Not midnight, not 1 am. It was like…. 8 o’clock

“Hi, love.” The use of the familiar term making her a bit more relaxed. She was still wired though, there was something about seeing him at her house that invigorating. “Might I come in?”

His questions was almost sheepish, as his eyebrow went up though there was the promise of something more. And she hoped he wasn’t just dropping by.

“Of course, come in,” she said maybe a little too quickly, opening the door to let him in. He breezed past her, the fibers of his shirt brushing hers, the skin of his bare forearm dusting hers. She felt her nipples grow hard with the contact. She almost regretted not wearing a bra underneath her thin t-shirt. Almost.

“So I, uh…” he started, standing a few feet before her. His hand nervously reaching up to scratch behind his ear. “I’m um…”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around this week,” Emma blurted out. She wasn’t sure if he was headed toward an apology but she felt like she needed to say it.

A light smile played on his face, his beard was thicker today, like he hadn’t shaved all week. She liked it, decidedly, and wondered what it would feel like to have his face on hers. His beard tickling her skin.

“I was about to say the same thing to you,” he said, eyes meeting hers. She couldn’t help but return the smile. “Liam and I… we took some time this week. Went off the grid for a bit.”

“Oh yeah?” Emma eased toward him, past him, and began walking into the kitchen. “Where did you guys go?”

He followed behind her into the kitchen, like this was the most familiar place in the world. It was nice that the effortless flow of their movement together wasn’t just sexual. It was in real life too. And now they were in her kitchen where she tried to resume cooking her dinner. “We went to our aunt’s lakehouse. An hour or so away. We needed some time to process.”

“How’s Liam doing with all of this?”

“He’s as okay as he can be, it’s not an easy pill to swallow.” Emma watched as he spoke, the tightening of the vein in his neck. “The man, we knew him, Emma. He was in our house.”

“I can’t imagine.” It felt like her eyes were beginning to tear up, again, as she watched him cross his arms and lean against the counter.

“Liam has a family of his own now though, and it’s growing. So that’s helped him a lot.”

“It’s growing? Is his wife…?”

“Yes, Laura’s pregnant again.” As sad as he had looked walking in here, the light behind his eyes at the mention of being an uncle a second time over was undeniable. “They’re planning to move back here now.”

Emma tilted her head to get a better look at Killian’s face. Was this the time to ask what he planned to do? As selfish as it was, a large part of her wanted to know. He looked like he had more to say, like he maybe wanted to articulate it himself. But he didn’t, he hesitated.

“I’m sure it’s helped him to have you around. The two of you have been through so much, only you know what he’s been through and vice versa… it’s nice that you have him.” Emma hopped up on the island, her favorite place to sit in her kitchen. While he talked to her, the gentle tone of his voice sounding the slightest bit broken.

“He isn’t the only one that I have.”

Emma felt herself blush. The slight red creeping up her skin as his eyes bore into her. The sentence was deliberate. He wasn’t talking about anyone else. And his expression backed that up.

“I’ve had you.” Killian pushed off the counter, stepping toward her. Occupying the space between where her legs dangled from the island. Close enough she could feel his breath on her face. A tingle went through her body. The look on his face suggestive that he wanted to be even closer. His proximity caused the worry she had felt about them before to slip away. There wasn’t anything to worry about. Whatever she was feeling, he felt it too.

She followed his lead, knowing how quickly the two of them could turn from casual conversation to all-consuming want. Emma looked up at him and very clearly said, “You’ve never had me on this counter.”

“Aye, love. That I have not.” He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Now dry from her earlier bath and probably wild with curls. Even the simplest touch, the lingering feeling of where his thumb had brushed her cheek, made desire boil within her. He looked at her like he may kiss her, and she wanted him to. God did she want him to. But instead he backed away. A smugness on his face that suggested he was far from done with her.

“What are you drinking, darling?” he said as he picked up the wine bottle that was sitting not far from her. Scanning the label. A playful look on his face, clearly pleased with how easily he could toy with her. And the same went for him. More than a few times he had been on the receiving end of her teasing. A form of foreplay they had come to love. “Riesling?”

“Yeah…” where was he going with this. “Would you like a glass?”

He looked up from the label, back to her, his angular features up to something. “Might I have just a taste first?”

“Sure,” she said cautiously, eyebrow going up as she handed him the glass of wine in her hand. He took it the wineglass, slowly, resuming his spot between her legs. His jeans grazing her legs. It took all of her willpower not to just wrap her legs around him and pull him all the way into her. But she was stubborn. And if she had any trust in this man she knew he wouldn’t disappoint her.

“What’s interesting about Riesling is how versatile it is.” He swirled the wine around in the glass, leaning his nose down to smell its aromas. “It’s sharp… but also sweet.” He set the glass down beside her.

She watched his every move, in anticipation for the next one. His hands went to either side of her waist, causing the warmth in her body to concentrate at her core. She bit back a gasp as his eyes didn’t leave hers, watching her closely as his hands tugged on the hem of her shirt.

“Its taste strong enough to stand up to more powerful flavors…” His tongue danced along his lower lip. His hands pulling her shirt over her head. There wasn’t a single ounce of her that would have resisted. Urging him with her eyes to continue, she was half bare before him. “Soft enough to go well with desserts…”

His head bent to press a passionate, but all too quick kiss to her lips. Killian kissed his way from her lips to the line of her jaw.

“Killian…” she groaned, the feel of his lips too much for her.

His only response being to continue kissing her as he pressed her back into the counter. Now laid out before him she was entirely vulnerable to his touch. The cool marble on her back. Killian pulled back, grabbing the glass of wine again, raising it above her waist.

“The only delicacy I can think of, unique enough to fit all of those qualities is you, darling,” he said, his voice velvet smooth with innuendo. Emma looked up at him, watching as he tipped the glass she could feel every shred of her succumbing to his toying. Heat in her center. She felt the light stream of wine meeting her skin.

Killian’s hands laid on her thighs pushing them open further so he could bend to lick a trail where he had just poured the wine. The feel of his tongue causing Emma to close her eyes in pleasure. He lapped up the liquid, from the top of her pants up to her breasts. He swirled her left nipple in his mouth while twisting the other to erection. His hips pressed into hers and she could feel every inch of his glorious length. Emma’s body became tense with aching need for him to ease the friction at her center.

“You taste divine, Emma,” he muttered before taking her pert bud between his teeth. “Damned minx, not wearing anything beneath your shirt.”

“Ah, Killian, I need…” she gasped. Her body shooting to meet him inch for inch. Her legs wrapping around his waist to pull his hardened cock toward her.

“What, my love, what do you need?”

“Please… you.” If anything his use of the word my serving as an amplifier to all that she felt for him. Her back arched off of the counter as his mouth moved from her breasts to the waistband of her leggings. Pressing a chaste kiss to her mound beneath the fabric of the leggings before ripping them off in one quick movement. Soon after her panties were torn from her, now leaving her entirely naked.

His eyes roved over her, appreciating the view. Confidence shot through her as he looked at her. Eyes hooded with want and passion and animalistic need. Then immediately he was on his knees, throwing her legs over his shoulders. His head pressed between them. The second she felt the scruff on his face hit her skin she needed more. He kissed up the sides of her thighs, making his way to where she needed him most. He licked a long line down her core. He whole body beginning to shake. Her hands went to the edge of the counter for support as she pulled his head closer to her with her thighs. Needing him to not be gentle.

That was the last slow movement he made because his mouth turned relentless. Tonguing at her clit. Fucking her with his tongue. It swirled around her clit, rough on her swollen center. Her back arched further. Pressing her bare mound further into his mouth. She heard him make an “mmm” sound the wetter she became.

“So impatient, Emma,” he spoke between swipes of his tongue. Everything he did was arousing to her. She could barely breath, feeling his mouth unforgiving on her sensitive flesh. The more she writhed in pleasure the more it urged him on. He cared so much for her needs, wants, desires, it was rare for someone to be that way. “But also so ready for me.”

Suddenly his mouth pulled from her, just as she was about to crest the peak. White hot anger shooting through her as she watched his face, chin coated with her arousal. He licked his lips. Smirking at how frustrated she probably appeared.

But before she could scream at him like she wanted to, he was undoing his pants, and freeing his cock from its confined space. Then he was on her, tugging her up and to the edge of the counter. Killian’s arms around her, aligning himself with her center. He kissed along her shoulder, neck, jaw, then her lips. Smoothly kissing her breathless as he sheathed himself inside of her.

“I couldn’t make it another second without being inside of you,” he whispered, their faces so close as she wrapped her legs tight around him to pull his cock completely into her. “I missed you, Emma.”

“I missed you too,” she cried. And she had. Not just this, though the sex was blow the doors off good, she missed all of him. He thrust into her, his gaze never leaving hers as he brought her to her peak. Fucking her with abandon but also looking at her like she was the only human being on this earth. His interesting blue eyes were stormy and filled with desire. She climaxed, her whole body fighting to keep him inside of her as he followed her over the edge.

Her body felt boneless, Killian taking her in his arms. She held her arms around his neck to keep her upright. The pleasure still so intense she could hardly believe it had felt so good. He wasn’t much better off, with his heavy breath in her ear. Her fingers toyed with the hair on the back of his neck, soothing both he and her as they collected themselves.

“I’m gonna need to get a new kitchen…” Emma joked after a few minutes of measured breathing.

“Why’s that, love?” he asked with a smile, sliding his arms to wrap around her lower waist so he could see her face.

“Because I’m never going to be able to look at this island the same again.” She giggled. The inappropriate nature of this encounter, the choice to fuck in the kitchen. It was exhilarating.

“Ah yes, well I’ll never be able to have a glass of that wine again without comparing to how it tasted with you.” His eyebrow went up. “I really did miss you this week, Emma.”

“I know.” She ran her hands down the front of him. Wishing he wasn’t wearing a shirt overtop of his chest. “I never thought that I… that we… I missed you too, Killian.”

He seemed to blush a bit at her admitting, again, that she felt as he did. Rarely was he bashful but right now it flickered. And then just as quickly as it came, it was gone, his confidence back as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Perhaps we could continue this in a place where you don’t prepare your food.”

He finished it off with a nip of her ear. Igniting her desire quickly once again. She had all but forgotten about the mac and cheese she had been trying to make, the pot sitting next to the stove. For right now the only appetite she had was for Killian. And as he whisked her into his arms with little effort, she allowed herself to be carried away by him.

It wasn’t long before they reached her bedroom and began engaging again. Falling into the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to be there together. Hot kisses, tangled fingers, smooth movements. Reaching their release at the same time, crying out for one another in ecstasy. As waves of pleasure ran through their sated bodies.

In the aftermath of their passion they lay together. Killian’s arms securing Emma to his side. She ran her fingers along his skin, just needing to touch him in some way. Every once in awhile he would press a soft kiss to her head or her hand to reassure her he was in no hurry to leave.

But in the quiet of the house, it was very distinct when Emma’s stomach began to growl. A result of her lack of food since lunch. Her face reddened in embarrassment at the sound, as Killian had clearly heard it.

“A bit hungry, love?” he asked between laughs.

“Just a little… I was kind of in the middle of making something when you showed up.”

“Darling if you were hungry you could have just said something we didn’t have to-”

“Oh yes we did.” Emma sat up, looking in his eyes. “We both needed that.”

“Do you have anything here to eat?” he asked, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Almost making her forget how hungry she was. Almost.

“Not really… I have macaroni and cheese..” judging by the look on Killian’s face he wasn’t too thrilled with sharing a child’s size box of easy mac. “Maybe we can just order take out.”

“Sounds good to me.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips before Emma reached for her phone.

They had decided to order Chinese food. As it was one of the only food places still open for delivery at this hour nearby. Everything shut down so early in Storybrooke even on a Friday night. Killian and Emma stayed naked and basking in their fluff bubble as long as they could, before dressing when the food would arrive in a few moments.

“I must say you look especially gorgeous in one of my shirts,” Killian said from the bed. Emma had slipped into the thing, loving the natural smell of him that stayed with the fabric. As she looked at him posted up in her bed she thought to herself that this was something she had already gotten so used to, how could she ever go back to not being involved with him? It wasn’t that they were official, in fairness they hadn’t even gone on a date. It was in that moment, wearing his shirt, waiting for takeout with him, watching him lounge in her bed that she knew they would have to have a serious conversation about what came next for them. As much as the stubborn part of Emma wanted to just let him go back to London and not express anything she felt at the risk of sounding desperate, the part of her that had fallen for him was much stronger. So at some point she would have to ask him if he saw any kind of future with her. Because she was starting to with him.

“I don’t have any cash, do you?” she asked, looking through her wallet.

“I have some. Front pants pocket, love.”

“Thanks,” Emma said as she reached down to grab his jeans. She fumbled around in Killian’s wallet finally finding the cash, but as she pulled it out of the sleeve something else fell and hit the floor by her feet.

Looking down it appeared to just be a small, white, crumbled piece of paper, but as Emma picked it up and flattened out the worn paper she realized it was more than a piece of paper. In her hands was a photobooth picture of two people laughing in one, kissing in another, sticking their tongues out. Killian was one of the people, a lightness to him that wasn’t in him anymore. But the other person, a woman, wild brown hair, deep chocolate eyes.

“Killian…” Emma started, her voice shaking, hands unstable as well. “Who is this woman?”

“What?” he sat up, looking toward Emma to see what she was referring to. Genuine concern. His face fell when he saw what she was holding. “Emma, I swear I didn’t know that was in there….”

Her blood raced, a mix of anger, confusion, sadness, “who is she to you? Answer me.”

“That’s my ex-girlfriend… Grace… I thought I had taken that out of there… I’m so sorry Emma.” He stood from the bed, his face wrought with worry.

Emma couldn’t even say anything else, her emotions getting the better of her. She didn’t want to hurt him. God that was the last thing she wanted. She began to shake even more, her whole body in shock from finding it. Before she could react any other way she ran to her bathroom, closing the door, locking it behind her.

She slid down the solid door to the floor. Trying her best to take deep breathes as adrenaline took over. She didn’t know what to do. But what she did know was she couldn’t figure it out while looking at Killian, thinking of him the way she did.

“Emma!” She heard Killian knocking on the door, pleading with her to talk. “Emma please, I swear I didn’t know that was in there! I don’t… she doesn’t mean anything to me anymore, Emma. It’s you that I love!”

Emma lifted her head. Tears brimming in her eyes as the confession poured from him through the door. She could tell he meant it. Which made everything that much harder.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, Emma. You must know that. There’s no one else. There never could be.” Though his voice through the door was muffled she heard him loud and clear. Feeling her heart physically break as she looked at the picture in her hand.

The woman in the picture, the woman who Killian had known as Grace, was actually someone else entirely.

The woman in the picture was Neal’s mother. And her name wasn’t Grace it was Milah.

#captain swan fanfiction #emma swan #killian jones #cs fanfics #cs ff au #cs modern au #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan

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kaz2y5-imagines · 8 years ago

Text

Dive

Title: Dive

Pairing: Female reader x Dean

Theme song: Dive by Ed Sheeran

Summary: Dean’s catching feelings for the reader and needs to be convinced to dive in

A/N: This song just has such quiet bar vibes.

Word count: 2,000ish

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

The old bartender working the quiet Tuesday afternoon shift had poured Dean another glass of whiskey before he’d even opened his mouth to ask for it. Dean looked up from his hands long enough to give a nod of thanks before pulling the new glass to his lips and taking a sip.

The bartender returned the bottle to its shelf and smiled behind his wiry beard.

“Thought you could use another,” he said, “You’ve got that look.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dean said. The man waited; Dean said nothing.

“So what is it?” he pressed. “Love? Money?”

“Those the usual culprits?” Dean asked. The bartender kept his smile, waiting. Dean looked down at his glass again and turned it slow in his hands. Pushing away from the counter, the old man grabbed a mostly dirty rag and started away, taking the hint and his leave.

“You let me know if you need another,” he said over his shoulder.

The only other patron in the place was a guy in his mid-forties, nursing a beer at a corner booth, his eyes on the tv, watching some college game through the static. Dean turned, giving the place a slow once over before settling into his stool once more, allowing himself enough self-pity to down the rest of his drink in one go. He sat, crunching on the ice cubes one by one as the rest melted in his glass, until the bartender returned from wiping down tables.

“It’s not money,” Dean said as he passed, still looking down at his glass. The old man slowed, tossed the rag on the counter by the register, and came to a stop in front of Dean.

“So love then?”

Dean let out a mirthless laugh and shook his head.

“No. I mean…it could be. It could have been,” he amended. He finally looked up, meeting the bartender’s eyes and there it was again: the look that had prompted him to fill Dean’s glass with something to ease it, if only for a bit.

“I don’t usually do this crap,” Dean continued, gesturing between himself and the bartender. “I don’t go around bitching about my problems to some stranger like I’m on Dr. Phil or something.”

“I’m Roy,” the bartender said, holding out his hand. Dean hesitated for only a second before taking it.

“Dean.”

“You see, now we aren’t strangers,” Roy said, leaning back on the counter again. Dean gave a small smile in spite of himself.

“Yeah, well, I don’t usually talk about my feelings to friends either,” he said. Roy shrugged a shoulder and crossed his arms.

“So it seems like this person, your could-have-been, must be something special.”

Dean’s smile bloomed into a full one now, his eyes looking past Roy, thinking of something else, something not in this bar.

“Yeah. Yeah, Y/N is…” Dean trailed off, let himself really think about you for a few seconds before he took a breath and blinked, his eyes focusing back on his surroundings once more and the smile fell from his face. He ran a hand over it before shaking his head and looking at his surrogate therapist.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

Dean stared him down, waging a war whether to keep talking, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“I’m just not great at this crap, you know? Maybe I came on too strong, or not strong enough, or I shouldn’t have waited like I did…god knows I should have said something the first day I met her.”

“Sometimes it’s easy to lose the words when your heart’s involved,” Roy said.

“Yeah. Maybe. I’m an idiot for it. Y/N’s amazing. She’ll kick my ass any day of the week and then gives me this smile that makes me want to ask her to do it again tomorrow. Jesus. Maybe I will take another,” Dean continued, turning his empty glass in his hands.

Roy filled it for him once more, and had just put the bottle away when his eyes flickered past Dean for just a moment.

“This girl of yours, she doesn’t happen to be wearing a leather jacket? Hair kind of wild?”

Dean’s brow furrowed, his hands stilled.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because someone matching that description just pulled up in the lot and she looks like she might be looking for an ass to kick,” Roy said, not bothering to disguise his amusement. Dean turned quick in his seat, just in time to see you yanking the door to the place open and standing in the frame of it with the long sunlight of late afternoon behind you.

“What the hell?” you demanded as soon as your eyes landed on Dean. He glanced over his shoulder to Roy who only raised his eyebrows, laughed silently to himself, and turned away to wipe down the tables he’d already been by. You took long strides toward Dean and sat yourself next to him with your jaw set hard.

“Cool move, Dean. Real cool, asshole,” you said, reaching over and taking his glass from his hands. He watched as you downed the entire thing before slamming it down on the counter and turning to face him full on.

“Whoa!” Dean said, looking between the glass and you. “What the hell? How am I an asshole?”

You stared at Dean, expressionless for a full five seconds.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. You’re the one barging in here, drinking my drink, saying crap that doesn’t make sense—“

“Oh, that’s cute. You want to know what doesn’t make sense? Is me overhearing you telling Sam that you think you might love me—love me!”

Dean blanched some and you actually watched him nervous swallow, then lick his lips.

“You heard that?”

“I’m not done. And then when I see you not two minutes later and ask if you want to get a drink--because, what the hell, if you’re saying crap like you could love me to your brother then maybe you’ll want to actually go on a date with me—you make some BS excuse and take off? So my question from earlier stands: what the hell?”

“Well in my defense, you weren’t supposed to hear what I said to Sam.”

“Bad start.”

“Look, I know, I probably played my cards all wrong from day one, alright?”

“Played your cards wrong? You didn’t play them at all.”

“Exactly.”

“So?” you pressed.

“So what?”

“Oh good god, you’re hard to talk to.”

“It’s part of my charm and mystery,” Dean said, giving you a grin like it was any other post-hunt bar night. It was impossible not to return it.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you said, and Dean grinned wider. “Ask me out if you have feelings for me!”

Dean was frozen, mouth just slightly parted with the words he wasn’t saying, and finally he let out his breath in a whoosh.

“It’s not that easy,” he said.

“Nothing ever is with you guys, is it?”

“Look, Y/N, you’re…I mean, you’re amazing. You…” he gestured from your head to your toes, eyes wide and intent on you as though he were making a fantastic point.

“Yes, that’s very descriptive. You’re also…” you gestured to him the same way. “And that’s from the heart.”

“Can you stop being a friggin’ smartass for one second and listen?” Dean asked, but you noted the laugh he was holding back. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him and his dramatics, but made a point to press your lips into a tight line instead and leaned in to listen with mock seriousness.

“Yeah, I have feelings for you. Have since day one and that rugaru hunt of yours you let us crash,” Dean said. You smiled at the memory but kept your lips pressed together.

“But the feelings I have for you scare the hell out of me,” he continued. “The longest relationship I ever had wasn’t with another hunter. It’s bad enough with one, but making something work with two…”

“Chances of things ending bloody get doubled,” you allowed, your voice softer now.

“Exactly. And you—“

“If you just point at me again—“

“Y/N,” Dean interrupted, again just barely suppressing his smile. You closed your mouth and held your hands up, surrendering, letting him continue.

“You are…awesome. And you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count. You’re funny and you’re sexy as hell.” You smiled wider, feeling the warmth of the drink you’d stolen from him all the way into your legs.

“I mean, I live and die by the crap you say to me. You told me I had a good laugh when we were all having beers after that vamp hunt a few months ago, you remember that?” he asked. You nodded.

“Yes. You do.”

“Couldn’t get that out of my head for weeks after that. Every time Sam did something dumb or Cas said something awkward and I laughed, I had your voice in my head, telling me it was a good one.”

“So I still don’t get why any of this made you take off when I asked you to get a drink with me,” you said.

“Because I’ve kind of been known to just give my all and jump into crap without thinking. I just—I don’t know, I see something I want and I just, I dive,” he said.

“And you don’t want to dive with me?”

“I do,” Dean said, only now turning his full body to face you too. You were sitting close enough that his knees bracketed yours. “I’ve just been sitting here looking back at every mess I’ve made doing that, and I think if things go south with you that it would be the thing that would take me down.”

“I’m flattered,” you said, words calmer than the pounding of your heart. “But I think you’re being dumb.”

“Well, don’t sugarcoat it.”

“That’s not what we do, you and I,” you reminded him. “But now it’s my turn to talk and tell you that you are amazing. You are sexy. And I’ve been trying to amp myself up to ask you out since the day I met you. I just couldn’t ever get my stupid mouth to do it.”

A slow smile spread over Dean’s lips.

“What?”

“It’s easy to lose the words when your heart’s involved,” he said.

“Don’t quote what I can only assume is Dr. Sexy at me. Just tell me we can go out. An actual date.”

It was quick, the way his eyes flickered from your eyes down to your lips and then back again, and you barely had time to register it before he said “I’ll do you one better.” And then he was leaning forward and you were meeting him halfway, because it was Dean, and hadn’t you been venting to his brother not half an hour ago that this was months overdue? And Dean was perfect, sliding his fingers slow up the nape of your neck and into your hair, sending goosebumps along your skin. He pulled back just long enough to decide that he wasn’t done tasting you yet and then he kissed you again. The bar was gone, the bartender who’d been watching you two with some small smile from across the place was gone, everything dissolving away in the wake of Dean’s lips.

He pulled away again, hand still in your hair, and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Just…don’t tell me you want this if you don’t believe it.”

“Dean—“

“And don’t call me baby, alright? Not if you don’t mean it—“

“Oh, there’s so many other things I could call you,” you teased, rolling your eyes. He grinned and gave you another small kiss.

“Now that’s an opening,” he said. You leaned in to kiss him again but he pulled away just a bit.

“What is it?”

“You’re not just leading me on here, right? I mean, I know how hunters can be and I heard that in the past, you may have had some run-ins—“

“Do you want me to tell you what I’ve heard about you and your history?” you asked, your tone warning. Dean smiled, having the wherewithal to look at least somewhat abashed, and glanced at you from under his lashes.

“No.”

“Alright, then,” you said. You brought your hand to rest on his shoulder, broad and sturdy even under his jacket. He opened his mouth to speak once more, but you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips before he could.

“Dean, it’s alright,” you said in nearly a whisper, smiling at him with your eyes bright. “Just dive.”

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