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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

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The Right (Excerpt) || Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Hello fellow boss-babes, it is @ssahotchswife soft hotch saturday again! I’m trying something a little different this week-- I hope y’all don’t mind! This week’s fic is an excerpt from a multichapter I’ve been working on for a couple months. It’s a bit of a slow burn, so this is their first date, roughly a quarter through the fic.

As I’m sure you all know, your kind words always mean so much to authors, but on this fic in particular I’m looking to hear from you all! I want to know if there’s interest in me posting more chapters of this fic. Please let me know!!

contains: first date shenanigans, brief, non graphic description of violence, alcohol consumption, aaron hotchner being soft, no gendered pronouns but reader wears a dress

wordcount: 1.5k

It was stupid to be nervous for a date with a man who already had feelings for you. You knew that, yet you still couldn’t tame the anxiety that had settled in the pit of your stomach as you did your makeup. Jess had kept Jack for dinner tonight to give you and Aaron the evening to yourselves, but you almost wished he was here begging you to play legos and superheroes with him. Blocks and make-believe, you were good at. Relationships? Not so much.

You shook away that train of thought as you pulled a blue dress out of your closet-- a little satin blue number that hit below the knee and had a slit up the thigh. You slipped it over your head and checked yourself in the mirror.

You’re suddenly brought back to a different date night, one that had ended with you crying in the shower because Josh had insisted that the dress you’d picked out was too low cut. You looked down at your forearm as if the bruises from where he had gripped you might have reappeared-- they hadn’t. You can feel your breath catching as the memory of his hand around your throat creeps up from somewhere deep inside you. Aaron’s gentle knock on your door pulled you out of your train of thought.

“You almost ready, dear?” He called through the door.

“One sec! I just need shoes,” you said, grabbing a small black purse and slipping on a matching pair of strappy heels. You swung the door open and found him standing in the doorway, looking absolutely delicious in one of his black suits with a blue shirt underneath, no tie and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Fighting against the urge to lick your lips, you fuss with his collar.

“We match,” you tell him, gesturing to his blue shirt and your blue dress.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he tells you, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

“You don’t think it’s too much? I can change if--”

“It’s perfect. If you’re comfortable, it’s perfect,” he said, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“Aaron Hotchner, and you haven’t even bought me dinner yet! I’ll have you know I don’t dare kiss on the first date,” You teased him, and he treated you to one of those smiles where the dimples popped up on both sides of his face.

“Maybe I’m a bad influence on you, then,” he smirked, placing a hand on the small of your back as he led you out the door and to the car.

You shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just very willing to be influenced.”

Aaron quirked an eyebrow as he opened the passenger door of his car for you, and you bit your lip as you climbed inside. He took your hand and drove the two of you into downtown Alexandria, Virginia, pulling expertly into a street spot on the cobblestone road in front of Nobu.

“Sushi?” You asked when Aaron opened your car door.

“Yeah, I thought you liked sushi. We can find something else if—“

“Sushi’s great, Aaron. Stop stressing,” you told him, wrapping your arm around his as the two of you made your way into the restaurant. Aaron had made reservations, of course, so you were swiftly taken to a back corner of the restaurant, tucked away in a private little booth. Aaron ordered a bottle of wine for you to share when the waiter came by to introduce yourself, and he looked at you with a fond smile as soon as the two of you were left alone again.

“What?” You asked after a moment, feeling suddenly insecure under his scrutiny.

“Nothing,” he told you. “I’m just thinking, is all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, Hotchner. Thinking about what?”

“I’m just really happy to be here with you. I didn’t think I’d ever be brave enough to do this.”

“You’re the bravest man I know.” You tell him, genuinely.

“That’s what they think, isn’t it? All these people we meet on cases. They see us put on our vests and break down doors and think we’re the bravest people they’ve ever known. They don’t know how scared we really are at all. How brave can I be when it took me this long to tell you how strong my feelings are for you?”

“Aaron—“ you start, but he suddenly realizes how vulnerable he sounds.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“How long?” You asked.

“I’m sorry?” He asked in response.

“How long have you known you had feelings for me?”

“I figured it out pretty early on. Sometime in between your first day and the day you ran into a house without a vest to save a kid from an unsub.”

“You were so pissed. I thought for sure you were going to fire me.”

“I probably should’ve. But that was also the moment that I realized I didn’t want to go back to work if you weren’t going to be there.”

You smiled into your wine glass as you took a sip. “You’ve been very patient.” You remarked.

“I think you were worth the wait,” he responds with a shrug, but there’s nothing casual about it. You smile.

Dinner passes easily, the two of you laughing and smiling and eating and sneaking in a game of footsie just so that a moment didn’t pass where you weren’t touching each other. You settle the tab and Aaron leads you out of the restaurant with the now-familiar weight of his hand on the small of your back anchoring you.

“I thought we could head down to the boardwalk if you’re not too tired?” He asked as you exited into the street.

“Lead the way,” you told him, taking his hand in your own as he led you down the sidewalk. You ended up at the edge of the boardwalk, leaning against the rail and watching the sun set over the Potomac. Aaron stood behind you, his arms on either side of you and your back pressed into his chest. You settled into the warmth of him and neither one of you needed to speak, content in the presence of one another as the sun dipped over the horizon. You craned your neck to look at Aaron as the sun disappeared.

“I could stay here forever, but I imagine it’s about time for us to get home.”

“Unless I can convince you to call out tomorrow, you’re probably right.” He agrees, stepping back to allow you away from the rail.

“Sure, because that wouldn’t be conspicuous at all,” you laughed as the two of you headed back towards the car. With the sun now gone, goosebumps appeared across your arms as a breeze picked up. Aaron slipped his jacket off of and wrapped it around your shoulders in an instant, warning you with a glance the moment you opened your mouth not to protest his chivalry. You didn’t.

You realize how tired you are the moment you sink into the passenger seat of Aaron’s car, but it’s the kind of tired you feel after a day at the amusement park as a kid— you’re totally spent, but you wouldn’t change a thing and you’d do it all again in an instant. Aaron has a Beatles album playing quietly in the background of your drive and suddenly you’re wishing that he’d never pull the car back into the driveway.

Of course, he does eventually, and the two of you clumsily make your way back into the house.

“Thank you, Aaron. I had a really great time tonight.” You tell him, handing him back his suit coat.

“Can I have ten more minutes? I’m not ready for tonight to be over just yet.” He asks of you, his dark eyes shining in the low light, and you’re helpless.

“Of course,” you tell him, and he smiles, pulling his phone out of his pocket and fiddling with it for a moment before setting it on the counter. Some Ella Fitzgerald song is playing. You don’t recognize it, but it doesn’t really matter, because he has one hand wrapped around your waist and the other is holding yours and resting over his heart, and you’re placing your head on his chest as he gently sways you around the kitchen and you realize that everything is perfect. He’s holding you, and you’re safe in his arms, and it’s perfect. Your feet are killing you, and you can barely keep your eyes open, and it’s perfect. You’re picturing a life with him and it’s perfect.

All too soon, the music fades away, and you’re swaying in his arms in the silence, refusing to accept that your evening may truly be over. Aaron kisses your temple and moves to whisper in your ear.

“Good night, sweetheart. Get some rest.”

You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to meet his lips, one of your hands wrapping around the back of his head while his hand on your back pulled you impossibly closer.

“Good night, Aaron.” You told him.

“I thought you didn’t kiss on the first date?” He teases you, smiling.

You shrugged. “I’m easily influenced.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #hotchner x y/n #hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x you

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

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since I can’t find my original post about songs to make leverage edits to, here’s another one

[note: some of these are ot3 centered songs, others can be applied to the team as a whole!]

Seven Nation Army (The White Stripes)

leverage? you mean a series of competence porn? of the entire crew being badass?

I’m pretty sure I’ve seen an eliot edit to this song floating around on youtube, but I still think it could be fun to have more vids focusing on the whole team to this song. idk, I just think it’d slap

Freak Show (Ingrid Michaelson)

we all know ingrid from the parachute ot3 fanvid, admit it. it has 108k views. we’ve all seen it, don’t lie.

but let’s talk about freak show and how the lyrics perfectly encapsulate the special and unique love parker, hardison and eliot share:

When you wake up and you're all alone || And the bed's too big for one || Well, you're not the only weird one || Here, let me show you where I'm from

y’all can’t convince me that the romance that these three weird criminals wouldn’t vibe with this song. they’re weird. they’re freaks. but they’re who they are, together

Must Have Done Something Right (Relient K)

We should get jerseys cause we make a good team || But yours would look better than mine, cause you're outta my league || And I know that it's so cliche to tell you that everyday || I spend with you is the new best day of my life || Everyone watching us just turns away with disgust || It's jealously, they can see that we've got it going on

If anyone can make me a better person you could || All I gotta say is I must've done something good || I came along one day and you rearranged my life || All I gotta say is I must've done something right || I must've done something right

“We agreed we'd all change. Better or worse. We'd change together.” THEY SAID THAT BITCHES

they make the world a better place, and through that, they find each other and create a love that is truly unparalleled by any other

Whatever It Takes (Imagine Dragons)

Whatever it takes || 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins || I do whatever it takes || 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains || Whatever it takes || Yeah, take me to the top, I'm ready for || Whatever it takes || 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins || I do what it takes

I could literally put the whole song down but we get it. the vibe for this one is kinda self explanatory. we all know the song, it played on the radio forever. I just think it gives leverage crew vibes doing whatever it takes to make the world a better place

Flaws (Bastille)

All of your flaws and all of my flaws || They lie there hand in hand || Ones we've inherited, ones that we learned || They pass from man to man

There's a hole in my soul || I can't fill it, I can't fill it || There's a hole in my soul || Can you fill it? Can you fill it?

You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve || And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground || Dig them up; let's finish what we've started || Dig them up, so nothing's left untouched

All of your flaws and all of my flaws, || When they have been exhumed || We'll see that we need them to be who we are || Without them we'd be doomed

leverage is all about flawed people coming together to do the right thing. their flaws make them who they are and make them excellent at what they do

I think of this as the ot3 completing each other but this could be seen as gen leverage team too!

Alone Together (Fall Out Boy)

I don't know where you're going, || But do you got room for one more troubled soul || I don't know where I'm going, || But I don't think I'm coming home || And I said, I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead || This is the road to ruin and we're starting at the end

another ot3 song, surprise surprise. but come on, it hits. I can see a good fanvid to this song

Rather Be (Clean Bandit ft. Jess Glynne)

now, I have sense8 to blame for this. if any of you have seen the show to the end, you know that the finale special ended with a thank you letter to the fans with this song backed by bts footage of the cast as they filmed all over the world. someone could make an edit for leverage of bts and gag reel footage as a leverage tribute to the cast OR the fans, but either way, it’s cute and heartfelt

(I totally didn’t cry watching the fans tribute for sense8. I’m also not totally a lying liar who lies.) (I totally cry every time I watch it.)

I’d Love To Change The World (Jetta, Matstubs remix)

Everywhere is freaks and hairies || Dykes and fairies, tell me where is sanity || Tax the rich, feed the poor || Till there are no rich no more?

I'd love to change the world || But I don't know what to do || So I'll leave it up to you

another sense8 song? from me? who would have guessed?

nothing much else to say except these funky queers change the world

edit: if anyone wants to make a fanvid using any of these, PLEASE TAG ME. I live for content

#me just listening to the ot3 playlist I made and vibing while making this? more likely than you think #I tried to give y’all lyric vids exclusively so you could get the better experience listening if you’ve never heard the songs before #but alas sometimes the song is too little known for good lyric vids #I’m looking at you ingrid 👀#my dad had heart surgery and it went well 👍#also my date might be this Wednesday if my work schedule allows it #also #HOW DO YALL MAKE VIDEO EDITS ITS SO STRESSFUL #maybe it’s just the fact that I’m rewatching each episode from the 1.01 and pausing and cutting is tedious and takes away from the fun of #watching and experiencing the episode itself #I want to make a their story video so bad but I get so BORED #and then read geraskier and geraskefer and leverage ot3 and jatp fics instead #pls send help its so hard #leverage ot3 #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #parker x hardison x eliot #leverage #playlist #songs #song suggestions #playlists #song ideas #music #mine

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anakin-danvers · 4 years

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night in 79′s

Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader

gif credit to owner!

Request: “Congrats on 100 again!!! Look at you 🤧🤧 im so proud, a queen getting the recognition she deserves :') I was wondering, could I get #59 from prompt list #1 w/ Anakin por favor? 🥺❤” as requested by @anakinswhore

Description: After accepting an invitation to unwind at 79’s from his men, Anakin meets the person who will show him love like no other.

Word count: ~1.8k

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, some mention of physical illness, sprinkle of spicyness 🌶, unapologetic fluff attack

A/N: this is a prequel to sun, but it can be read on its own! I love sun so much, especially because it was one of my first fics, so I wanted to show how reader and Anakin met for that fic! Since the other fic was somewhat sad, I wanted to give the two some fluff 💞 Also, Julia, I know you liked sun a lot as well, so I thought it’d be fitting to make this the prequel 🥰 If y’all want to listen to the song I had on repeat when writing both sun and this, go ahead and listen to My Father’s Favorite by Patrick Doyle from the Sense and Sensibility soundtrack. It’s from writing sun with that song that it now reminds me so much of Anakin (it’s my theme for him tbh).

P.S. Y/L/N indicates “your last name” :)

Tags: @acnini @roseofalderaan @ohhellokenobi @goldenkenobi @snips-n-skyguy0501 @cherieboba @sacred-things @nobie @obirain

join my taglist!

——

Anakin is confident. Or at least, he likes to think he is. He easily takes command on the battlefield, sure of himself when giving orders to his men. So why is it that he’s hesitating now?

It might be because he’s in a new setting, one that he never expected to be in after a battle-filled week: 79’s. Yes, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and general of the 501st battalion is in the clone bar surrounded by his men.

It’d been Fives’s idea, in a way. He’d been talking to a few of the other clone troopers about how much he was looking forward to unwinding in 79's after ‘this Maker-forsaken week’, when Anakin walked in on the conversation. Surprised by his entrance, Fives blurted out an invitation to the general, not expecting him to accept. Only, he did. And now Anakin is starting to wish he hadn’t.

He’s sitting in a booth, handling a Bloody Rancor, as recommended by Jesse. Sitting next to him is Rex, Anakin’s right hand man both on and off the field. Rex can sense his general’s uneasiness, indicated by his lack of talking and wandering gaze.

“General Skywalker, are you feeling okay?”

Anakin turns to look at Rex, nodding. “Yes, Rex, I’m fine. I’m just getting used to being in a cantina again. The last time I was in one was on a mission with Obi-Wan in my Padawan days.”

Rex chuckles lightly at the response, turning back to resume his conversation with his brothers on the table.

Anakin, on the other hand, keeps looking around. What for, he’s not sure. But his eyes keep traveling, mindlessly. He’s taking a sip of the Bloody Rancor when his eyes stop. He nearly spits out his drink.

He’s looking at you. You’re sitting with some friends, a similar drink to his nestled between your hands. You’re laughing, your face radiant under the cantina lights, and Anakin can’t help but stare.

Fives is the first to notice Anakin’s staring. He nudges Echo, motioning over to Anakin. Rex catches the two’s conversation, and his eyes follow their own, seeing the look of curiosity on Anakin’s face.

“You should ask her for a dance,” Fives says.

Echo looks at Fives in disbelief, shocked that he’d suggest that. “Fives, Jedi can’t—“

“I know, I know,” Fives interrupts his mumbling brother. “That doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy a dance, does it?”

At Fives’s suggestion, Anakin is hesitant again. He wants to go talk to you, he really does, but he’s not sure if he should. But then you turn, the feeling of his eyes on you prompting you to look at him. The smile on your face widens, and now Anakin is convinced he has to go talk to you.

He takes a large gulp of the Bloody Rancor, prompting a small cheer from the clones on the table (except Rex, who doesn’t want to pressure Anakin). He stands, smoothing his Jedi robes before making his way over to the table you and your friends are sitting at.

When he reaches your table, he clears his throat. Your eyes lock with his own again, and the way your eyes themselves are smiling at him make Anakin feel like a youngling again.

As if on queue, a new song starts, a slower song that has couples flocking to dance.

“Hello, I don’t mean to interrupt. I was wondering if you wanted to dance?” He’s extending his hand to you, and though he looks sure of himself, inside his heart is beating like a drum.

“I’d love to,” you say, and Maker the sound of your voice alone has him weak at the knees.

“Y/N, are you sure?” The woman sitting next to you tries to ask you discreetly, but Anakin picks up what she says. Looking over at her, he sees similarities between you and her, and he’s sure you’re related.

“I’m fine, Lani, it’s a slower song.” The woman, Lani, nods, though she doesn’t look fully convinced.

You take a hold of Anakin’s hand, skin coming to contact with his own. He leads you to where other couples are dancing, and places his gloved hand on the small of your back, making sure not to go too low. Your free hand takes a hold of his shoulder, and, following his lead, you begin to sway to the music.

At first, neither of you speak. You just move with the music, a small, content smile on your face. Then Anakin breaks the silence.

“Your name is Y/N.” It’s more of a statement than a question, having heard what Lani called you.

“Yes, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And who do I have the pleasure of dancing with tonight?” You’re uncommonly bold tonight, unbeknownst to Anakin.

“Anakin Skywalker,” he says.

“Anakin.” You say his name. You enjoy the way it feels to say it, and Anakin knows he could hear you saying his name over and over again.

“Lani, is she your...”

“My sister. She’s my older sister.”

Anakin nods, the similarities in looks making sense. “She didn’t seem to want you to come dance.”

“It’s nothing against you, trust me. She’s just worried because I’m sick.”

Anakin’s eyebrows raise lightly. “Sick?”

You nod, a bashful look crossing your face and causing you to look down. “I can be prone to getting sick often, more often than most, and my body isn’t the strongest to fight it off. Lani can be protective because of that. I don’t usually tell people right away, but I guess I should give you a chance to run before anything.”

Anakin frowns lightly. Run? Who said anything about running? He takes his hand away from your back to slightly lift your chin, prompting you to look at him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Your face instantly lights up with a smile, one that Anakin knows he wants to always keep on your face.

The two of you are seemingly stuck to each other the rest of the night, dancing and talking non stop. When it’s time to go home, Anakin walks you to your place, already making plans for when to see you again. Your meetings multiply over the days, the months, and soon, you’re seeing each other every chance you get.

It’s right before an assignment he’s sent on that he realizes he loves you. He’s known for some time now, arguably he’s known since the moment he laid eyes on you that night in 79’s. But there’s something about today, about the thought of not seeing you for Maker knows how many rotations, that pushes the thought to the front of his mind.

He loves you, and he needs to let you know.

Anakin is standing outside the door of your home, waiting for you to answer the door. He should be back at the Jedi temple, ready to depart with Rex, but he’s not.

You open the door, a surprised look on your face at the sight of him. Meanwhile, Anakin is smiling, the usual smile his face adapts every time he sees you.

“Ani, I thought you were off to Naboo today.”

“I am, but I wanted to see you first.”

Your mouth curls up to a smile, and you open the door wider to let him in. Once inside, you hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I love that you came, but aren’t you going to be late? You said Rex and you were set to leave at,” you look over at the clock on your wall. “Now!”

Anakin laughs lightly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into him. You’re not sure how he’s so calm about being late for his assignment; in all your time knowing him, he’s never been late.

“It’s alright, my love. I told Rex to expect delays.”

At his nonchalant manner, you can’t help but join in and laugh. You take a hold of his face, bringing it down so that you can kiss him. When your lips meet, they mold perfectly, as always. Anakin moves to deepen the kiss, his brows furrowed in concentration. His eagerness reminds you of your first kiss together.

You’d been sick, and Anakin had stopped to check up on you. After helping feed you some soup, much to your protest, you were wiping your mouth. His eyes focused on your lips, and in a bash of boldness, he’d leaned in to take your lips with his. The two of you were left breathless, much like now.

Your need for air causes you to pull back, to Anakin’s dismay. He could kiss you forever, the taste of your lips doing more at keeping him alive than oxygen itself.

Without hesitating, Anakin speaks. “I love you.”

You pull his face down to yours again, literal electricity sparking when your lips meet. You’ve kissed him just seconds ago, but this kiss, it’s different.

Anakin’s arms around you tighten, mouth exploring your own, as if it holds hidden treasures. Your hands entangle in his locks, tugging lightly and earning a groan from him. You take a small nip at his lip before pulling back, taking in the look of a closed eyed, drunken-like Anakin.

“Wow.”

His response elicits a giggle from you, the sound making Anakin open his eyes.

“I love you, sun of my life. I always will,” you say.

He leans in to kiss you for a third time, this time trading your lips for the top of your head. It’s soft and tender, one that evokes a content sigh from you.

“Come to Naboo with me.” His lips are still on top of your head, his invitation mumbled.

You pull back to look up at him. You’ve never been anywhere but Coruscant, Anakin knows that. He’d always promised you that he’d take you to experience the different worlds within the galaxy. You’d always assumed he’d meant after the war. Anakin, on the other hand, saw no better time than now.

“I’m sure guests aren’t allowed on assignments related to Jedi business,” you say, cocking a brow.

Anakin gives you a lopsided grin, moving a strand of hair from your face.

“Nobody has to know.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to laugh. “I could sneak you on the transport. It’ll just be Rex, a few of my men, and I. It shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Ani, I don’t want to get you into any trouble.”

“You won’t, don’t you worry about that. Plus, the Festival of Light will be tomorrow. I’d love for you to see it.”

Anakin sees and senses your hesitation. When you let out a sigh, he knows he’s won.

You finally agree, and Anakin envelopes you in a hug. It’s the first of many assignments and low risk missions he sneaks you into. He makes it his mission to show you the galaxy, to show you the beauties that, for him, will never compare to you.

Every time you land on a new planet, a smile of pure fascination paints your face. And every time Anakin sees it, he knows there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you smiling.

#i love how this turned out!#chasity reaches 100!🥳#userkarina #usernobie #userlilylils #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars reader insert #star wars imagine #fem reader #anakin-danvers work

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neeterloveschenford · 3 years

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RNM 3x01

Howdy partners! It's finally happened. Roswell New Mexico has come back from the war! Last night was super exciting. I agree with everyone that said it was like a brand new pilot episode. I have slowly but surely gotten more excited over the last year, ever since she who should not be named got the boot. And it looks like things can only go up from here.

If you're new to my blog, I try to do a review of each episode just giving my opinions and speculating on what's to come. It's a long read because I really dived into almost every aspect this time, so I'll put the rest under the cut.

So without further ado, let's dive right in!!!

Mopey Max is mopey.

I know he was reverting back to his old way of doing things in not telling Michael and Isobel about dying, but I have to believe that he did it to have good memories for himself as well as for his siblings. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being generous, but I’m willing to give him a little grace this season. It’s a new beginning, so maybe we’ll get some growth from him this season.

Not gonna lie, Heath is a hottie. I can see what Liz sees in him. He’s kinda like if Max and Kyle had a baby. I hate her boss though.

Love the pod squad hanging out together. They were very funny and very much like real siblings when they were in the mindscape. And Isobel digging on Michael about Alex was so good! Also, how has no one noticed that Max is shooting up acetone like heroine.?

I’m gonna surprise some folks, but I ain’t mad about Delmanes. I think Greg has chemistry with everyone and they established that Maria and Alex are still in contact (I’ll get to that in a minute.) So I don’t think he’s going to have a problem with them. Frankly, I think they are going to sweep the thing we all hate under the rug and never bring it up again. And I am a-okay with that! Y’all, I want to love Maria so badly! She was my absolute favorite character from the OG and if they have to forget about questionable things that we all know were a product of CAM self inserting, then I am ok with it. Besides, she’s cute and he’s cute and they can just be cute together. I also don’t think she was dragging Michael when they were talking. She made a comment about Michael’s bad boy demeanor. Something that he has been cultivating for over a decade now. And her saying that some things aren’t meant to be…… I mean are we going to argue that point or something? I could have told her that last season.

Also, I want to try some of Bert’s mead.

Kyliz!!! I love their friendship so much! Few people challenge Liz the way Kyle does. He treats her with so much respect, but doesn’t hesitate to call her out when she’s being stubborn. Go Team Liz!!!!!

Michael Guerin stopping to fix his hair before he welcomes Alex Manes back just about broke me y’all.😭😭😭😭😭😭 My sweet son! I love him so much!! And I am so proud of him. I think the old Michael would have walked right up and made some sarcastic comment. But this Michael is respecting Alex’s choices and being a real friend. I am truly sad we didn’t get any one-on-one Malex content, but I know that this is just setting us up for an amazing journey for our boys.

It was also gut-wrenching to see Alex stepping off that bus and being confronted with Jesse’s statue. But it was nice to see him smile when Forrest came to meet him. I am nowhere near a Forlex shipper, but it was good to see Alex happy for once. And Michael’s face when he saw them.😭😭😭😭😭😭My baby boy. I just want to hug him so badly!!

Kyle trying to help everyone was so wonderful to see. He’s the best person on that show. If only folks would listen to him!!! But I am intrigued by this vision.

Damn Tyler Blackburn is ripped! Good lord son. You are killing me!

So here’s where we come back to Maria. It’s kind of a throwaway line, but Alex checks his phone and says it’s his brother and Maria making sure he got in ok. (Followed by that super cringy did you get in ok line from Forrest.) (No wonder they weren’t exclusive after a year!) This shows me that Alex still considers Maria to be his best friend. There’s no flinch. No negative reaction. He just starts returning texts before Forrest starts revealing that he’s in Deep Sky.

Wyatt Long is such a douche.

HAHAHAHA!!!! Forrest is nothing more than a low-level henchman! I love it! And I can’t blame him for falling for Alex. Who could? But let me tell ya bud, keeping secrets like that is no way to ingratiate yourself to one Alex Manes. You could see the wheels turning in Alex’s head. How much does Deep Sky know? Is Michael in danger? What lengths will he have to go to to protect him? I’m finding Deep Sky to be quite fascinating.

Max’s brain manifesting Liz when her song comes on the radio was so sad. He loves her so much, but is just so bad at being a good partner. You know he just wants to see her one last time before he dies. And once again, bravo to everyone’s hero Dr. Kyle. He’s tired of Max keeping this a secret. I just love them together. They hate, yet respect each other. It makes for a very interesting dynamic.

I’m like Liz and Heath. They had fun shenanigans! I enjoy shenanigans. And of course she would leak their patent to keep it from becoming a wrinkle cream. Like a boss!

“It’s a cactus! There’s a flower on that testicle!” Wyatt, you are an idiot. But why would anyone think that tacking Linda on the end of Rosa would be all that they need to do to integrate Rosa back into society. She looks the same! At least give her a new hairdo. And Wyatt was right on the money when he pointed out she writes on her shoes just like she did before. They really shouldn’t have given up on the makeover from last year. She definitely needs a new style.

Michael’s speech about being happy the last year was so good. He was so happy to have his family back. So was Isobel. They are totally right to be angry with Max. He always makes the decisions and never asks them. Their heartbreak hearing that Max’s body was rejecting the heart just made me want to cry.

I also didn’t hate Michael’s interaction with Maria. It’s rough having to be friendly with an ex. But they did care very much for each other. It makes perfect sense that he would want to let her know about Max to keep her from trying to force more visions. And she would of course want to comfort him when he tells her. He’s losing his brother. I would react the same way if that were happening to any of my exes. Because that’s how normal people react. And there was nothing even remotely romantic about that scene. Her teasing him about Alex didn’t bother me because it was just an awkward attempt to get back to their previous banter-filled friendship. Will they ever get there? Who knows. (Well, I’m sure Chris does.)

KYBEL!!!!!!! I had forgotten how much I shipped them in s1. I am all for them getting together. I have had a big suspension that smelling rain was an indication of a cosmic connection. It’s been confirmed so far with Liz and Alex. And Kyle did say that Max smelled like rain last season. He just needs to get some alone time with Isobel when she doesn’t have on the undoubtedly expensive perfume that she wears. I just know he’s the one for her.

Max listening to Liz’s tape was so sad and beautiful.

Kylex! (Has anyone else noticed that all of the really great scenes featured Kyle?) He’s so great at being the voice of reason. And I love that they are friends. If anyone other than Michael can convince Alex to not join Deep Sky, it’s Kyle.

So here’s my theory on Wyatt. Of course he’s going to forget that he’s a racist piece of crap after being injected with Byterical(?). I think Rosa’s going to try to help him be a better person and maybe come to terms with Kate’s death. But I don’t think it’ll end well. They’ve already talked about how the mayor’s racist son is going to factor into things this season. I think he’s going to end up trying to re-corrupt Wyatt. Either he will succeed or Wyatt will end up sacrificing himself to save Rosa. It’s not ideal, but as long as there isn’t any kind of romance there, I can endure. (Also, that was Maria’s necklace not Rosa’s, dumbass Wyatt.)

I don’t trust Max’s one night stand. I know in the sneek peaks she’s shown to be a reporter, but I think she’s more than just that. Maybe it’s because I remember how horrible a character she played on Teen Wolf, but I just don’t trust her. She’s after something besides a story.

Sorry, Forrest. You messed up and let’s be honest. You never could compare to Michael. Alex’s reaction was so bittersweet. He trusted him. But he knows what he has to do now to protect the people he truly loves. And that’s exactly what he’s going to do. So buh-bye Forrest. It’s been real.

I think that the alien mask guys that attack Maria are going to be part of some kind of racist gang.

I’m veering away from thinking it’s Michael that’s going to die. Alex was pissed, not distraught.

Why does Jones look like he’s a bad yogi? The shirt and the rings? Aren’t you supposed to be naed in the pod? Did Michael and Isobel put those clothes on him? Howdy partner indeed!

So that’s my take this time around. It’s been a hell of a wait for this episode. But all in all I think it delivered!. I’m looking forward to the rest of the season. I think we’re going to have a blast this year! Till next time1 my lovelies!!!!

#rosewell new mexico #s3ep1 #it's only my opinion

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bamiiib · 4 years

Text

Ethereal | Jung Jaehyun

Masterlist

Sorrow and uncertainty become your only source of reassurance, everything is different, and yet he continues to move forward, only to a direction that you fear for. What has now become of your once beautiful romance?

Words: 5.8K

Category: Modern!AU, Angst, Fluff

Song Rec: A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant to Be — Jess Benko

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of alcohol & addiction, Mentions of slight depression, toxic relationships

A/N: OMG! Is it true? YES, I’M ALIVE! I’m not sure if y’all are interested in what has been going on, but I want to bring this back, and finish it! Stay tuned for updates, I’ll try my best to keep them as consistent as I can, and I promise I’ll be posting sneak peeks of future chapters as well. Thanks for continuing to support me for those who have been reading this since the beginning. Anyways, happy reading! —Bambi

You woke up to the rays of sun beating down your eyes. With a groan, you rubbed your eyes until they fluttered open. You stretched, a tiny whimper escaping your lips as you stared at the ceiling. Your arms flopped to your side, you thought back to everything that happened last night. How Taeyong had almost kissed you—how you almost let him. You shut your eyes in regret and guilt. You could only see the chubby boy that he used to be when you thought back to high school.

The boy who was new to your class, and how no one wanted to talk to him, and how you looked at him with a smile when he dropped his books one day and introduced yourself. Since then, to you, Taeyong had only become another familiar face in the hallways who you’d say hi to once in a while. You never thought he’d be interested in you, let alone be his highschool crush that he never got over. You sighed, wondering if things would truly be different if you weren’t so afraid of love back then. But then you remember back to the flood of memories that rushed through you in that moment when Taeyong stood inches away from your lips.

Jaehyun.

No matter what happened, no matter what you did or thought about in the past, he always came to mind. He became a part of you, and you hadn’t realized until now. He helped you with your fears, made you see that love wasn’t going to hurt you. Jaehyun made you believe that love was a beautiful thing, and that despite everything that’s been happening, you were convinced that somewhere in the person he’s becoming now, the same man you know and love is still there.

You opened your eyes when your apartment was filled in silence. You couldn’t hear his soft snores, or his gentle breathing. You turned around, sleepiness still entrapped in your eyes, it made your vision blurry for only a second when you saw the empty spot next to you, where the sheets felt cold between your fingertips. Your heart instantly ached, wondering where he could’ve gone. Jaehyun had always stayed in bed until you woke up. He’d always be there to give you a kiss and whisper a gentle, “Good morning.”

But to your surprise, there was nothing. A sigh. You got up, out of bed to change into simple jeans and a graphic tee. You made your bed and walked towards the kitchen, still hoping in the back of your mind that you’ll find Jaehyun.

He’ll be in the kitchen, making surprise pancakes like he did once for your birthday with a bouquet of flowers resting on the table. He always was someone who likes surprises. You could feel your heartbeat rise to your throat, anticipation and desperate hope filled you. Your heart dropped when you saw nothing more but the furniture, and your paintings peeping through from the window that led to the balcony. Another sigh. Maybe he went somewhere. He probably just went to the grocery shop to buy more food to fill the fridge.

Or buy more liquor so he can lose himself like he does every night.

Maybe he went to go buy you more paint.

Or went with his band that replaced you with ease.

He wouldn’t leave without telling you. He never did. No matter where he went, Jaehyun had always let you know where he’d go, and give you a kiss or text you a heartwarming message if he had already left. Maybe he did, and you were probably too focused on other things instead. You rush towards your bedroom where your phone lies on your nightstand, you turn it on, praying desperately for there to be a text, to see his contact glowing on your phone screen.

Nothing.

Your chest felt heavy. You couldn’t breathe without panting. Your lips curled in a tight line. You gulped down the knot in your throat, you looked around, unsure of what exactly you were even looking for. You raked your hands through your hair, and with a deep, relaxing breath, you pulled your hair up to a ponytail and walked towards the balcony where you already set up a blank canvas from the last time you finished your last painting.

You sat down, trying to ease your troubled mind, you reached for your acrylic paints, spreading them on the piece of cardboard that rested on your lap. Without thinking twice, you dipped your freshly clean brush in a color you’d pay attention to later. And so you painted, not caring whatever color you got on your canvas, not caring whether it looked appealing or not.

You painted, not because you wanted it to catch a seller’s eye, or because you were bored, you painted because you don’t know what else to do. You painted what you felt. You felt unsure, you felt doubt, rage, sorrow, desperation. You felt like you were drowning, no matter how much you screamed, no matter how violent each brush stroke became the more you added more and more paint, you wanted to be heard. You wanted clarity.

You wanted the ones you loved, back.

You wanted your freedom, because you knew that even if you move houses, or put your head out of the car to taste the fresh air, or kiss the lips that promised you that freedom, you would never get it. You just wanted to taste it all again, but now your lips tasted like nothing more but of bitter venom and alcohol.

You continued to paint, trying to get a taste of that freedom again, but only liquor filled your thoughts. How the scent followed you everywhere, how that green glass bottle would never leave you alone. How it followed you no matter where you went; never with you, but the ones you love.

You were too focused on the violent brush strokes against the canvas to realize the amounts of green you poured onto the cardboard. The amounts of black that splotched every corner and empty space of that canvas, how it decorated your skin, much like the darkness that intertwined in you.

It would never leave.

This grief, sorrow, and pain.

You wanted it to go away.

You tried to run away from it all, you took Jaehyun’s hand, expecting to find adventure and beauty and love, hoping to find everything that he promised, but found an empty bed, and paint on your skin. You didn’t feel the tears that trickled down your cheek, crashing onto your piece of cardboard and into the paint, making your artwork look more like the mess you were feeling. You couldn’t hear the door open when your sobs whispered through your lips, the brushstrokes now stabbing into the canvas, you wanted to scream, you wanted to disappear. You just wanted to forget. You wanted all of your pain, gone.

Taeyong had put you in a tight embrace. Your paintbrush dropped for your fingertips, crashing into the solid concrete of the floor, rolling towards who-knows-where. Your chest tightened, and the tears you became tired of couldn’t stop falling.

“It’s okay! You’re okay! Please, breathe…” Taeyong’s breath was shaky, his hold he had on you trembling. You could feel his heartbeat pressing against your back. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, his eyes shut tight. Everything stood still, and when you felt his breath whisper against your skin that ran cold, you realized you had been holding your breath up until now. The air had never felt so refreshing in his embrace. You brought a hand to hold his, your grip tighter than what you anticipated, you noticed that you began to tremble as well.

“Taeyong… What are you doing here?” You mumbled within sobs. Your head hung low, ashamed to look at him. He shook his head, refusing to talk until your cries subsided. It fell silent, you took a deep breath and wiped away your tears.

“Johnny texted me to tell you that he couldn’t come over, but he wanted me to tell you something about your art.” He sighed, pulling away to look at your face, grabbing your wrists to pull them away as you had your face buried in your hands.

“He wanted me to tell you that he found someone who owns an art gallery, and that they really want your artwork to be displayed there, along with buying some of your pieces for a good price. Your dream is coming true..” His voice was gentle and patient. A smile tugged the corner of his lips, Taeyong let out a breathy laugh. You didn’t want to believe your ears, your heart raced, and suddenly everything you were thinking of in the past had immediately come to a blank. You were processing everything that had just happened in the span of a couple of seconds, and once it had finally hit, once those words echoed in your ears, your tears came back again.

“Someone actually wants my artwork in an art gallery? Holy shit… holy shit!” You couldn’t believe it, it all felt like a surreal dream. One moment you were crying, stained in green and black paint, staring at the bristles now destroyed with your violent strokes onto the canvas that had a couple of scratches here and there. You didn’t hesitate another second as you pulled Taeyong into a tight embrace, laughter echoing in the balcony, you heard him grunt a little in surprise before his laughter mixed with yours, hugging you just as tight.

“W-Wait so when is it?” You pulled away to ask, a wide, dorkish smile etched onto your lips. Taeyong looked into the distance in thought, his brows furrowing.

“This Saturday. I’ll text you their contact information so you can confirm and plan everything out!”

“W-Will you come?” You asked, mostly out of pure excitement, but you saw the adoration that burned in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said as he grabbed a strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear. You dismissed the action, and pulled him into another hug, tears now filled with joy that wouldn’t stop falling.

“Thank you so much… thank you, thank you.” You repeated, and the weight that pushed down on your chest had seemed to have gone away.

But only for that very short moment.

“Hey, um… we need to talk—” Jaehyun’s voice resonated throughout the apartment walls, his hand that scratched the back of his neck fell to his side, his gaze locked on you and Taeyong.

You knew what pain looked like. It was in your paintings, in the liquor that stained the breath of your father, and when you turned to Jaehyun, you found pain in his eyes.

“What the hell…” He whispered. His jaw tightened, everything had been moving too fast. Taeyong got up from where he knelt down in front of you, his hands up in defense, Jaehyun was walking towards the two of you in silence. You stood up from your seat, you found yourself between the two; Jaehyun gripped tight onto the collar of Taeyong’s shirt, pulling him inside the apartment and slammed him into the wall right next to the balcony door.

“You have five seconds to explain why the fuck you were holding her like that before I beat the absolute shit out of you.” His voice was low, something dark and sinister laced his sentence. Your heart dropped. Rushing towards the two, you shook your head, opening your mouth to talk—but nothing. Instead, you placed a hand on Jaehyun’s arm that held Taeyong, shaking him to bring him back into reality.

“Jaehyun, stop…” You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to yell, but your voice had come out so tiny when you spoke. You’ve never felt so small until now, when he looked at you and you remembered back to the first night he had gotten drunk. That empty, dullness that filled his once beautiful eyes. Your breathing turned heavy, your eyes still glossed in tears. His face softened when he noticed the puffiness in your eyes. Though it returned once more when he glared over at Taeyong.

“You made her cry? What the fuck is your problem!” His voice roared through the apartment. You turned to look at Taeyong, whose face remained neutral until he said those very words. The same anger, the same deadly spark flashed through his eyes. His brows wrinkled in frustration, a dry laugh seeping through his lips, you watched his Adam's apple bop, holding onto Jaehyun’s wrist.

“I made her cry? No, none of this is my fault. She’s crying because of you! I was here to comfort her, when you clearly failed to do so because you’re that much of a piece of absolute shi—!” Taeyong’s shouting was cut off by the loud crack that resonated through your ears. You watched him fall to the ground with a grunt, a hand cupping his mouth, he slowly moved to see the blood that littered his palm.

“Fuck you…” Jaehyun whispered. You shook your head, the tears threatening to come back again when he lunged at Taeyong. The two didn’t stop. They punched, slapped, and kicked each other. Cursing at each other; it tore your heart into pieces. Your feet felt rooted to the floor, your stomach twisting in knots, your mouth that ran dry. Your tears felt never ending, and time felt still. Each blow they took, each punch they threw, you could feel your heart pounding violently against your ribs.

“Stop it…” You whispered, shutting your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see anymore. You shut them tight until you saw stars. Their shouts still filled the room.

“Stop it.” You whimpered, your jaw clenched, your hands balled into tight fists until you could feel your nails digging deep into your skin, the warmth of your blood being your only reminder of the reality of everything that was happening.

They didn’t stop. Jaehyun’s screams had overpowered Taeyong’s. His cursing turned to incoherent screaming. Pure anger roared, his throat raw; when you opened your eyes, you watched him tremble as he threw Taeyong down, punching him over, over, and over. It was when you saw Taeyong’s doe eyes become dull, and the blood seeping through his nose and lips, when you looked down at your bleeding palms, you had enough.

“STOP IT!” You threw yourself over to Jaehyun, grabbing his arm that he lifted, his knuckles already blooming bruises, you shouted over and over until saliva dripped from the corner of your lips. He didn’t stop. He wasn’t going to. You turned to meet his eyes, and saw that the man you loved, wasn’t even there. Instead, you saw nothing more, but a monster.

A loud thud, and then silence. Your palms slammed against the tile floor, bracing yourself when Jaehyun flung you down. You barely managed to dodge the impact, your head touching the cool floor. Your breath shaky and deep, you stared at the blurred reflection of yourself, then turned to look at your hands, moving around the tile to see the red that smeared against it.

“I-I…” Jaehyun started, removing himself from Taeyong. Both of them had their eyes glued to you, as if everything that just happened had meant nothing when it had come to seeing you injured.

“Are you okay?” Taeyong asked, sitting up with a pain-filled groan, he reached towards you until Jaehyun pushed his chest.

“You don’t have a right to ask if she’s okay, look what you fucking did.”

“I’m not the one who pushed her, you asshole! Sorry I actually care for her!”

“You talk like you’re so madly in love with her!”

“So what if I am?”

“You just don’t know when to fucking quit you—”

“Enough!” It took your shouts to finally shut them up. They turned to look at you, your name whispering from their lips like a gentle song. The pity that filled their eyes. The guilt that filled Jaehyun’s. You pushed yourself off the floor, standing up with your chin held high, desperately holding onto the crumbling dignity you had left. They followed after you. Taeyong’s nose was bloody, and Jaehyun’s lip was split. The bruises were already forming on the two of them, you looked the other way so you wouldn’t have to deal with the sight before you.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” You started, voice laced in darkness, sorrow, and pity. You wiped away the tears with a shaky hand, your blood smudging against your cheek. “You two used to be best friends… and now look at you! You’re fighting! And all for what? Me?” Your voice crescendoed into a shout. They averted their eyes away from you like two children who were being scolded. But you knew it was much deeper than that.

“I don’t have to explain anything to the two of you. I want you out… Get out of here.” You curled your lips in a line, you couldn’t stop shaking. You shut your eyes, wondering when the hell were your tears that you were so sick of would stop. Jaehyun whispered your name, as did Taeyong. Jaehyun had reached a hand towards you, and you flinched when he did. He frowned, reverting his hand away, you watched guilt gloss over his eyes you once found beautiful and sincere.

Taeyong had called your name once more, and just hearing it alone set your heart to ache, unprepared for what he had the strength to say. “Please, you’re making a mistake… just pick me. I-I was a coward to let go of you then, but I won’t let go of you now.” He was desperate. You knew, as you could hear it with each syllable that rolled off his tongue. Jaehyun watched, and the anger that rose all over again.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me…” He whispered your name, reaching towards you again, he managed to get a hold of your hand. The gentleness he held with his hold, it was like the old Jaehyun was looking at you again. You were ashamed to admit that if it weren’t for the bruises that bloomed on his knuckles and face, and Taeyong standing right next to him, you knew you’d pick him in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, no matter how much you wish that could happen, you faced the truth that appeared to you now.

“I’m sorry…” That was all that Jaehyun could say. You knew that even he didn’t know what he was apologizing for. Maybe he was only sorry for when something affected you physically, and you remember back to the painting, to the splotches of black and green of the paint that dried on your skin; Jaehyun had not noticed, not even once, that you were hurting deeper inside. You couldn’t believe it. They were making you choose.

“No. No, I can’t believe you guys. You can’t expect me to choose… because if you do, then I choose neither.” Silence again, they looked at you with pleading eyes, and that was enough for you to say with a trembling voice, “I don’t want to talk to either of you. I want you out. Go! Get out!” Your voice cracked as you shouted. They flinched at your sudden change of tone, the pain that mixed in the sorrow of your sentence. Taeyong was the first to leave.

Your breathing hitched, your vision blurred with tears. Jaehyun looked at you, his brows furrowed in sorrow, he opened his mouth, whispering your name with a broken heart. You held up your hand between the two of you to stop him from going on further.

“Don’t,” Your voice lulled back into a whisper, “just go.” You crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself tight when you heard him sigh in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered. You couldn’t stand the sight of seeing him walk away, so you faced the other way, listening to his footsteps, you cupped your hand against your mouth to muffle your sobs when he passed by your shoulder, and the door shut.

That night, you couldn’t fall asleep. You decided to stay at Johnny’s, sending a text to Jaehyun that he can have the apartment until you were ready to face him again. Johnny showed you your room, and stayed with you that night, listening to you when you poured your heart out. You told him about the darkness that followed you, about Jaehyun’s drinking, and Taeyong’s confession; how you almost kissed him, the fight, and the depression that never left you since you were a child. It felt like you had fallen into a dark pit. Something you couldn’t get out of, no matter how hard you tried, or how desperate you were to find light in the end of the tunnel. Johnny could only listen with a heavy heart, he frowned.

“So what are you going to do?” He asked, pulling you into a side hug. You sighed, shaking your head, your lip quivered. You just wanted it all to stop.

“I don’t know. I can’t even look at Jaehyun, and Taeyong—I don’t know.” It was all you could say, and all you could do. Each time you thought of either one, your mind was drawn to a blank. You were too ashamed and guilty to look at Taeyong, and too enraged to look at Jaehyun. You didn’t have the courage to confront either one of them. You looked down to your palms, studying the tiny crescent shapes that dug into your skin from your nails.

“What about the art gallery? Have you sent a message to the owner?” You had almost forgotten about that. Your back straightened, you wiped away your tear stained cheeks, and with a deep exhale, you looked over at Johnny and nodded.

“I’m still doing it.” You said with a strong nod. You couldn’t back down from an opportunity like this. Finally, your art was going to be shown, your voice would be heard, and despite the art you held dearest now being your only fondest memories of a man you onced loved, you couldn’t wait to show the world the story that had once been of you and Jaehyun. Johnny smiled, he pulled you for a full embrace, rubbing your back reassuringly.

“That’s my girl.” He muttered, and your brows raised. A smile. You held tight onto his shirt, burying your face in his chest, you could finally breathe. You finally felt at peace.

“Johnny, I can’t thank you enough… for everything. I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess, but you’ve always been there for me. You’re an amazing friend… I love you.” You whispered, sniffling.

“I love you too booger. There isn’t a single thing in the world that I wouldn’t do for you.” He let out a breathless laugh, holding you tight. Johnny had never left your side. Despite your unloving mother, your father who gave up everything for liquor, to the love of your life now succumbing to the same fate. Johnny has never left, and he’s never changed. Maybe there was some light, and maybe there was an exit to this void.

Ten knocked on the door, leaning against the doorway, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You guys are too mushy for me. C’mon, I made some popcorn for the movie night.” Johnny turned, smiling instantly as he let go of you to run towards his husband’s side. He pressed a kiss against his cheek, where Ten chuckled, pushing him away.

“That doesn’t mean for you to get mushy with me you freak, let’s go.” He snickered, rolling his eyes and looked towards you. Your lips curled to a smile, and his expression reflected yours.

“We’ll be downstairs. Take your time, okay?” Ten nodded his head towards you, as if to tell you, ‘Everything is going to be okay.’ Surely at this moment, you appreciated the reassurance, even though you knew that things weren’t okay. You’d like to believe that they would be. After having a moment of silence to yourself, you took a deep breath, recollecting yourself, and with your chin held up high, you mustered up enough courage and strength in you as you got up, and walked down the stairs. That night was the most you had ever been at peace in what felt like forever.

The week dragged on. Each day felt endless, each minute had felt like an hour. You were counting down the days of your gallery walk. You contacted the owner who was also the buyer, and he managed to explain everything down for you. It was to be a formal event, so you had to dress your best, and only one person could accompany you to the party that was to happen after.

Well, it was more of a small social gathering than a party. Either way, Johnny had convinced you to go since he believed it’d be another great opportunity to get your name out there.

Originally, when Taeyong had first told you about the show, you were excited to take him; it wasn’t until the fight where you didn’t want anything to do with him after. It felt like weeks since it happened, though it was only five days ago.

You never wanted your Friday night to be spent in Johnny and Ten’s house, lying down on the guest bed late at night where you couldn’t fall asleep. They offered to keep you company, but you kindly refused. Nonetheless, with Johnny being the stubborn best friend you knew and loved, he said he’d stay up in the living room watching movies with your favorite snacks in case you ever changed your mind.

You laid in bed, bags decorating underneath your eyes, you listened to the silence that echoed in your room. The silence that never went away. The silence that accompanied you, and never left unlike everyone else in your life. Much like the darkness that followed after the silence, it clung onto you with a heavy weight. Each breath felt short, your chest tight, it was hard to breathe. You gripped tight onto the silk sheets before you, rubbing your cheek against the softness of your pillow, memories of Jaehyun flashed through your mind.

The night in the car. The day he sang to you. The moment he opened his heart and told you of his dreams. The decision he made when he chose the liquor, over you.

You didn’t realize the tears that crashed beneath the sheets, a puddle forming below. You shuddered in sorrow. When was this going to stop? When would the tears come to an end? You didn’t know anything anymore. You didn’t know about your future. You didn’t know where life was going to take you next, be it if there were ever to be light found in this deep, endless tunnel, or if an empty void followed after.

You brought your knees up to your chest as you laid there, hugging yourself tightly, you never realized how much you had missed Jaehyun’s warmth until now.

A part of you wanted to reach for your phone and text him, talk it out, and try to reach an understanding—but each time you were reaching towards it, you could only see Taeyong’s blood and Jaehyun’s bruised knuckles.

That’s what made everything worse.

You still loved him, nothing was going to change that fact. You loved Jaehyun, but it was because of his actions, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye. You were angry at him, but more so, you were ashamed of yourself.

You knew what was happening, you knew what you were doing, yet you didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

From the moment Taeyong had almost kissed you, confessed everything to you, things weren’t the same. And you hated that.

“Hey.” Johnny had called your name gently, knocking on the door with delicate strength, enough so that you barely heard it. You wiped away your tears so he wouldn’t see you and question if you were alright for the umpteenth time.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as if you were asleep, though you knew you’d fail at trying to fool Johnny. You were expecting him to bombard you with questions, to walk up to you and ask if you were feeling. Instead, he sighed and curled his lips to a line before nudging his head towards the hallway.

“Someone wants to talk to you.” He said. Your heart dropped, and the only person you could think of at that moment was Jaehyun.

“I don’t want to see him.” You shut your eyes; your head hung low as you fumbled with your fingers until you looked back up to see Johnny shake his head.

“It’s not Jaehyun. C’mon, he’s waiting for you in the front yard.” Johnny smiled shortly, looking out towards the hallway where Ten walked, pulling Johnny to a side hug, he looked at you and nodded.

“Maybe it’ll be some reassurance.” Ten said, and Johnny nodded his head in agreement. You eyed them both carefully, confused as you got up on your feet and walked past them with furrowed brows. You gulped, adjusting the silk robe that Ten had lent you, deciding it best not to let whoever was at the door see you in your tank top.

Johnny called out your name. You hummed, turning around as he looked at you with a dark glare in his eye. “We’ll be in the living room. If he says something that you don’t like, just call me and I’ll kick him out in a heartbeat.” You knew what he was saying was serious. The sinister, intimidating glint that glimmered in his eyes, you still laughed and nodded.

“Don’t worry John. I’m still a tough nut.” You reassured, bringing your arm up to flex. He laughed and nodded.

“I know you are.” He grinned. You smiled, giving him a quick thumbs up, you took a long, deep exhale as you opened the door to the front yard, and much to your surprise, you weren’t expecting to see Doyoung.

“Hey… how did you know I was here?” You asked when he turned around, his arms crossed over his chest. He raised his brows, his mouth agape before letting out a breathless laugh, scratching the back of his neck in thought.

“Well, Jaehyun kind of filled me in on what happened between you guys, so I figured to come over and clear some things up.” He shrugged his shoulders, hands falling to his sides as he patted his palms against his pants. You watched, only feeling more confused at this point. You nodded your head, but remained silent. You stepped closer towards him, as he decided best to stay a couple of feet away from the house.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I didn’t exactly like you in the beginning. I didn’t know much about you, and to be frank, you seemed fairly comfortable with Taeyong, more than you were with Jaehyun.” He explained, his face hard to read, but you saw something foreign burn in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” You sniggered, at a loss for words. Doyoung’s sweet smile that he flashed at you when you first saw him was long gone. He took a large step towards you with a menacing glare.

“You wanna know why Jaehyun doesn’t bother going home after the gigs? Because he finally sees this as a good opportunity, and wants to get along with the band and meet some fans. And clearly, you’ve been having a problem with that.” He spat the sentence out as if the words itself were filled with venom. You blinked, once, twice. You didn’t know what to say.

“He told me what happened with you and Taeyong. The kiss, the fight—everything, and it’s clear that he doesn’t need someone as horrible and two-faced as you.”

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to control the raging anger that bubbled in the pit of your stomach. Your hands curled into tight fists, your nails finding solace in the familiar crescent shapes that marked your palms.

“Is that all you came here for? To tell me how much of a horrible person I am?” Your lip quivered, jaw clenching, you held in every urge in you not to yell at him, to tell him everything that you’ve been feeling, and suddenly you’re the one being called selfish.

“I came here as his friend, and I’m doing this for his own good. You’re no good for Jaehyun, and it’s best that you stay away and never show your face to him anymore. You’ll be doing everyone a favor.” He walked away towards his car, opening the back door, he held a cardboard box in his hands before dropping it in front of your feet.

“I also came to drop this off. It’s clear enough that he’s too heartbroken to see you in his apartment anymore—and if this doesn’t make it official, then I don’t know what will.”

You looked down to the box, kneeling as you took out the acrylic paints, the tiny piece of cardboard that was covered in greens and blacks. Your fingers lingered on each item, until you saw a canvas turned the other way. With a trembling hand, you reached towards it, turning it around, you saw it was the painting of Jaehyun’s face. Your first painting that made you realize that this was your true passion.

“Have a nice life, because Jaehyun will now—without you.” Your head snapped up to look over at Doyoung. You reached out a hand towards him, but his back was already facing you as he walked into his car with a grimace, and drove off into the streets.

You sighed, sitting down on the gravel, your fingers traced the shapes on the canvas. Caressing the painted skin of Jaehyun’s face, you curled your lips to a line. Your vision had become blurred with tears, you shut your eyes before they could even crash, and held the painting close to your chest, sitting there that night, you whimpered to think that maybe things were over with the two of you. And nothing pained you more than that fatal truth.

Johnny watched you with a pained, sorrowful glance. He sighed as he looked down at your phone in which he held onto, pressing it against his ear as he listened to the voicemail.

“Baby… please. I’m so sorry. I fucked up, I was selfish—please just give me another chance. I’ll quit the band, I’ll stop drinking. Whatever gives me you, I’ll do it. Please… please just call me back.”

Johnny frowned as you looked through each trinket in the box outside. A sigh breathed through his lips, he turned to look at Ten who was standing in the hallway, patiently waiting for his husband to return to bed with him.

He smiled, turning back over to the phone; his smile faltered, Johnny had deleted the voicemail.

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happytroopers · 5 years

Text

I Can’t Drink You Away // Fives x Reader

TW: drinking, Fives is dead, hallucinations

____

You smiled and laughed at the soldier beside you. He was definitely a shiny- fresh-faced, clean-shaven, classic cropped hair cut, and his armor barely had anything other than his battalions calling colors on it. A little young for your taste, but he was funny and sweet, and in combination with the best wine 79′s had to offer (which was still only 4 credits a bottle), was pushing all your buttons.

Placing a hand on your thigh, he threw another tragically cheesy line at you- you only giggled, lightly slapping his armored shoulder. He’d told you his name earlier in the conversation, but you hadn’t heard him over the pounding bass of the techno song they were playing at the time. It didn’t matter, you probably wouldn’t see him again.

Lifting the plastic wine glass up to your lips, you closed your eyes as you took another sip while he told an over-exaggerated story of his first battle- this was maybe his second shore leave. Sip, Swallow, Set the glass down.

Open eyes. You blinked softly, the combination of the heavy false eyelashes and strobing, multicolor lights creating a unique effect (or maybe it was the wine), things seemed to be moving slower, the music more languid but still base heavy- you felt heavy.

“Hey, you ok?” The soldier across from you asked, hand on your thigh squeezing a bit to bring you back to him. Your heavy eyes flitted to his, and your breath caught in your throat. Sitting across from you, grinning bigger than ever- Fives. You gaped for a moment, wide eyes as he looked at you, laughing at your shocked expression. Fives’ hand moved from your thigh to you upper arms, thumb fiddling with a stray lock of hair. Heat rose to your cheeks, this can’t be real, hiding a shaky hand by raking it through your hair, nodding fiercely..

You blinked again. The music sped back up, the cottony feeling left you ears, and you noticed the people moving in the background again, oh, the shiny is back as well.

“You sure you’re alright?” The young soldier asked, smile dropping a bit, “I can get you some water?”

Shaking your head, you ignored the familiar heartbreak in your chest and, instead, forced a smile. Tapping the base of your plastic wine glass, you faked a laugh, “I’m fine, it’s just...”

You paused, watching his reflection off the cheap wine glass, like this, you could almost imagine it was in fact, Fives- even though you hadn’t seen him in a year (and never would again).

Soft smile. Breath hitched. Hide the frown. Eyes sting. Force another smile.

Faking another laugh, you snatched the glass into your hands- no more reflection- ringed fingers tapping the rim of the glass as you lied through your teeth, “Just stronger than I thought.”

Hell, it wasn’t strong enough.

The trooper- Gild, maybe?- didn’t look convinced, but continued trying to lure you in with a cheesy smirk, eyebrows waggling, “Oh, well, in that case, let me get you another glass.”

For a moment, you were about to nod and smile, but the experience had already dredged up memories that you had rather stay down, instead your smile turned apologetic, “Actually- I’m sorry- I can’t do this.”

The poor soldier’s shoulders deflated, and you did feel bad for him, so in an attempt to console him, you pointed over his shoulder, “But, you should really talk to that pretty twi-lek woman, the one in the black dress? She’s been staring at you all night.”

Offering a soft smile, he nodded while tipping the rim of his glass at you before wandering off. Watching him go and the wide smile on that beautiful woman’s face, you sighed and downed the rest of the glass before flagging that bartender down for another.

Now, with a full glass of wine and painfully happy memories of your late boyfriend, you cross the crowded clone bar. Most of the 501st was there, a painful reminder that you couldn’t name all the faces that waved at you. It’d been a long time since you’d known the younger boys, hell, the younger ones only knew you as the civilian pilot that was always hanging around their Commanding Officers.

Next, you passed Jesse, who was leaned against a pillar telling a longwinded joke. He was flocked by a horde of girls of all species, mostly Twi-lek, human, and Togrutan, but you spotted a pair of Pantorans as well. They were all laughing, taking any opportunity to lay a hand on the newly promoted arc trooper.

Another sip of wine. Blink.

Suddenly, you were seeing a newly promoted Fives, surrounded by a similar horde, but his eyes were only on you as the two of you laughed.

Blink again. Keep Walking.

The Arc trooper caught sight of you, toasting his fruity umbrella drink to you- too buzzed to even notice you’d walked away without smiling back to him.

Next, you passed Kix, sporting his new hair cut and sporting an absolutely gorgeous Mirialian girl. He noticed you right as she tucked her face into his chest, one of his hands was holding a drink and the other was on the woman’s lower back as they swayed, but Kix- ever the multitasker- was much more observant than Jesse. He sent a worried look to you over her head, but you just shot back an unconvincing thumbs up as you continued walking. The medic offered a sympathetic smile before the green-skinned woman called his attention back to her.

Another sip. Deep breath.

Finally, you found Rex. In a back booth, sipping Corellian Whiskey on the rocks as he watched the club crowd in front of him. You slipped into the booth beside him, giving him a slight nod as you joined the people watching, no longer even bothering with a fake smile.

“Happen again?”

Was all the Captain asked, low ball swirling in his hand. You sighed, throwing him a sideways glance- he was the only one you’d told about this issue- these flashbacks, memories, hallucinations, whatever you wanted to call them. The silence was the only answer he needed.

“Sorry, (Y/N)- I miss ‘em too.”

You both took another sip of your respective drinks. You flagged down the server droid to order a stronger drink for yourself and another drink for the Captain, who awkwardly patted your knee.

“Can I tell you something Rex?” You asked, finishing the wine before the droid returned with the next cocktail. The captain nodded, turning towards you to listen. He barely heard you over the pounding music, but the singular tear was illuminated in the pink, blue, and gold flashing lights.

“If these flashbacks aren’t going to stop, I wish they’d at least last longer.” You sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “It hurts, but... it’s nice to see him.”

____

First draft, unedited, this probs sucks, blah blah blah, y’all know the drill

#fives x reader

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clareguilty · 5 years

Text

Valentines Gift Fic 4

Jesse X Reader Here it is! Happy Valentines day to the wonderful @pegasusdrawnchariots <3 you are wonderful and amazing and you deserve the world! This is kind of an AU for Steel Horses (an AU for an AU u kno how it be)

The desert slid by slowly outside the train window. If you hadn't grown up among the rocks and sand, you would have found the landscape monotonous and boring. Instead, this was home for you. There was beauty in the desolation. You watched the foothills fade into the distance. You couldn't imagine what the high mountains would be like. Looming and perilous? Bitter and cold?

Leaving home was hard. You would miss the sun and the stone and the songs of the cattle men.

A band of riders kicked up dust on the horizon, far enough that the horses were just specks. Wildness. Freedom. You envied them. Just the thunder of hoofbeats under the wide open sky.

The riders drew closer, you could make out the wide brims of hats. The flutter of their coats.

The glint of sun off the barrel of a rifle.

Bandits.

You froze in your seat. Should you alert the other passengers? The conductor? Could the train outrun their horses?

You stood, hands shaking. You had to do something.

Not even two steps down the aisle, a heavy hand clapped on your shoulder. A low voice drawled in your ear.

"I see you noticed my friends out there," the man said. The muzzle of a revolver pressed into the small of your back. "Why don't we sit back down?" He tugged you back to your seat.

The bandit roughly pushed you back to your spot by the window, sitting next to you and blocking any chance of escape. The revolver peeked from beneath his serape. He could shoot you before you even moved.

"You're going to rob the train," you said quietly, looking straight ahead to the front of the car.

"That we are." You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye.

"Are people going to get hurt?" You hated how your voice shook.

"I would certainly hate to have to hurt anyone. But sometimes, it happens."

"I don't have very much money." Your lip trembled. "I'll have nothing." You had spent most of your savings on your ticket to Denver. The rest of your money was supposed to pay for lodgings when you got to the city.

"You see that woman over there?" The outlaw jerked his elbow toward a few rows up.

You nodded, throat tight.

"She's got a fine gold watch. She's ordered three glasses of brandy. There's a sapphire on her finger."

She was a beautiful woman. A fine woman. Head held high and hair pinned in place with jewels and gold.

"The man across from her pays for her drinks. The clip on his billfold is platinum. He has a jeweled pin on his lapel."

You watched the man smooth his moustache with white gloved fingers. The pin glinted in the afternoon light.

"There's a man in the next car. His hands are rough but his clothes are fine. He bragged about how much money he's made and tried to convince other men to gamble with him."

You turned to look at the bandit for this first time. His eyes were a warm hazel that gleamed like fire in the sun. Brown hair framed his face. He was… handsome. You stared at him, unable to understand how a man so beautiful could be so dangerous.

“You see, sweetpea?” The outlaw grinned, cocksure and crooked. “When my buddies stop this train, I already know exactly what I’m going to steal and who I’m going to steal from. There ain’t much glory in stealing from those who ain’t got nothing to begin with.”

You nodded along, pretending like his convoluted explanation made sense. Despite the fear that gripped your heart, you found yourself lost in the eyes of this mysterious outlaw.

“Now,” he patted your shoulder, “you just sit right here and let me and my friends finish our job. If you’re a good girl, I may just give you a treat.” His smile was easy, but you could see the threat behind his eyes.

The train began to slow. You could hear commotion from the other cars. The sound of a gunshot made you jump.

“Easy, darling,” the outlaw brushed your hair behind your ear. “You ain’t got nothing to be scared of.

The wheels screamed as the ground to a halt against the tracks. The outlaw stood, brandishing his revolver out in the open.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he bellowed, “if you’ll pardon the interruption, this is a robbery. No one has to get hurt. I just need for you to hand over your valuables.” He shook out a burlap sack.

The other passengers on the train clamored and cowered. You watched the outlaw stride up and down the aisle, demanding the passengers cough up their money and jewelry. You noticed how he passed people by: the mother with her child, the old man with a cane, the young man with tatter clothes and sunken cheeks. He stole from the man with the platinum billfold, the woman with the sapphire ring.

“Thank you kindly,” he tipped his hat as he began to make his way to the next car. “I hope y’all arrive safely at your destination.”

And then he was gone. You could hear him in the next car, warning the passengers not to cause trouble. You were frozen in your seat, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

Agonizing minutes of waiting. Listening for the sound of a gunshot or a cry of pain. None came. The train began a steady crawl forward, slowly picking up speed. You peered out the window, looking for a band of horses retreating on the horizon. Instead, you saw the outlaw.

A strong, dark horse was keeping pace with the train, chestnut brown with a white star. The outlaw smiled widely and waved his hand, gesturing for you to open the window.

You shoved the glass up. The wind caught your hair as you leaned out, shielding the sun from your eyes.

“Hey, sweetpea,” the bandit called. “I told you I would give you a treat, didn’t I?” He waved a parcel in his hands.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. This was ridiculous. You were hanging out of the side of a train, accepting gifts from an outlaw. “Does this make me an accomplice?” you called.

“Most certainly,” the outlaw grinned. He had perfect control of the horse as he pulled up alongside the train, reaching out to offer you the parcel. You leaned farther out of the window to grab it, heart racing. The train was picking up speed, faster and faster with each passing second.

Your fingers closed around the package. You pulled it into your chest.

The outlaw tipped his hat one last time before rearing his horse in and turning to ride back the way he came. You watched him disappear in the distance before you pushed back into your seat. Your cheeks were burning from the wind and from the flood of emotions racing through you. You tore open the package, heart racing as you unwrapped the paper.

It was a handful of bills, a string of pearls, and a blue sapphire ring.

#valentines fic #valentines gift fic #jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #jesse mccree/reader #steel horses #steel horses and copper hearts #overwatch fanfic

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kyouryokusenshi · 5 years

Text

A Light In The Darkness

Post-IWTB AU. Tied up in a snowstorm during Christmas Eve, Mulder and Scully end up receiving their Christmas Miracle.

Written for Dee @speechteacher for the belated Easter @xfilesfanficexchange organized by @gaycrouton. Dee expressed interest in a story about M&S depending on each other to survive in a bad weather scenario or family fluff including dad!Mulder. This is my attempt to capture both of these elements. A HUGE thanks to Jess @GirlieX29 and Monika @monikafilefan for their pregnancy/birth expertise and beta work and to Cate @rationalcashew for her expert grammar help and beta while dealing with strep. Y’all rock!!

The wind howls outside as the Unremarkable House is bathed in snow. The light emitted from their living room is the only one that permeates the darkness aside from the single strand of Christmas lights delicately wrapped around a small ornate Douglas-Fir Mulder managed to chop down nearby a few weeks back. “Mulder, we’re having a Christmas baby. We need something simple and low maintenance,” she had said. And so, for the first time in years, they got a Christmas tree.

Mulder and Scully nestle beside each other on the couch as they watch Caddyshack. Unphased by the tumultuous weather taking place outside, Scully's hand curls around the crest of her abdomen, her fingers gently soothing the kicking coming from the tiny miracle therein.

Mulder, however, looks ill at ease. He steals several glances outside at the sleet covered windows into the white blanket outside. Scully's due date was yesterday and should the baby decide to make her grand debut today, he doubts they would never make it out of here.

Sensing his unease, Scully clutches his hand with her free one. “It's okay, Mulder,” she offers reassuringly. “It's supposed to start clearing up by Friday. We just need to make it through the next few days.”

Mulder nodded, forcing himself to relax for Scully's sake. He was a free man again. He and Scully had been blessed with another miracle; A second chance; A fresh start.

“Scully, you're about to pop any second. How in the world can you be so calm about all this?”

Scully smirks. “Well, considering I gave birth in the middle of nowhere, without any electricity or plumbing, and with a questionable audience last time, this is a princess cruise. Besides, I'm a doctor, Mulder. If in the slightest chance this baby decides to make her grand debut, I can coach you just like I did Monica.”

“Well, you'll be disappointed to know I don't keep up with the latest whale song trends.”

Scully rolled her eyes and allowed herself to imagine it, just for a moment, before she laughed.

They sat there a moment, listening to the sound of the TV droning on in the background as winter continued its song and dance. Mulder reached out and placed his palm on the curve of her abdomen, desperate to feel the movement from within.

They had months to get accustomed to the idea of a second baby, but Mulder was in constant awe of his daughter, and of Scully and the changes in her body.

Scully places her hand over his and gently moves it until he feels the discernible movement coming from within.

Mulder's features light up in childlike wonder, the movements of the second miracle within never ceasing to amaze him. He pulls close to Scully as he gently rests his cheek against her belly.

“Just a few more days, little one…”

-----

The following day, both Scully and Mulder start to become restless. The snowfall has yet to let up and Mulder can’t even start on shoveling the snow. Mulder itches to get out to do his morning run, but aside from the issue of snowfall, the temperatures are absolutely frigid, so he resorts to the treadmill he managed to squeeze into his office. He isn’t one for going to the gym or utilizing it’s equipment, he was a nature boy at heart, but the machine came in handy when he was holed up and fearing the government.

Scully isn’t doing much better. She starts to complain of lower back pain as she wades her way through the living room as Mulder tens to the flames in their fireplace. He hands press into her lower back as she arches backward, causing her abdomen to simultaneously push forward and that’s when Mulder noticed it.

“The baby dropped more,” he deadpans, resulting in a raised eyebrow from Scully. He closes the distance between them, in awe of the miracle between them. Yet, underneath that awe laid anxiety and fear. As he places his hands on her belly, Scully looks down and that’s when she notices the added distance between her breasts and her abdomen that she hadn’t felt before.

“Don’t tell me Oprah taught you that,” Scully scoffs.

Mulder shakes his head. “More contemporary reading…' What To Expect …' cover to cover. You may as well title it, What To Expect...for Dummies “Whose Wives Are Doctors ,” he smirks.

Scully looks up at Mulder from their joined hands on her belly, the meaning not lost on her, but she says nothing. She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I suppose you’re right. Actually, I’ve been so focused on my back pain that I hadn’t really noticed; but, now that you mention it, I am starting to feel the pressure building.”

Before Mulder could respond, Scully sucks in a pained breath and as she reaches out for him, he quickly steadies her. “Scully...Scully?! What’s wrong is...is it the baby?”

If there was one thing his reading hadn’t taught him, it was that he was never going to be fully prepared for this. Scully had nearly bled to death when William was born. If something went wrong…

“Mulder,” Scully’s voice permeates his lucid thoughts. “It’s okay, it’s just Braxton Hicks. I’ve been having them for a while.”

Mulder doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure...I’m not doubting you, but that one just seemed so...strong.”

Scully takes a deep breath as she stands. “I’ll know when it gets close. I’m a doctor, Mulder,” she finds herself spitting out before she could take the words back. Mulder stiffens, visibly hurt before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Sorry...I’m just tired, uncomfortable...hungry...did you get that $12 out of season watermelon I asked for the other day?”

Mulder forces a smile. “Of course I did, much to the cashier’s amusement. But when I told him my wife was pregnant, it all seemed to make sense.”

“ You’re a good man, she’s lucky to have you, ” the elderly gentleman mused. If only he knew.

“Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll cut that sucker right up?”

-----

Scully grows restless as the storm outside howls on, the blizzard causing their screen door to bang against the doorframe of the doorway with a thump thump as the overarching tree branches beat against their rooftop in unison.

Mulder is nearly fast asleep beside her when Scully lets out another pained gasp. He jolts into an upright position as Scully takes several breaths, her arm supporting the weight of her abdomen as she gingerly rubs her hand back and forth underneath in a soothing motion.

“Scully,” he starts, but the words die on his mouth as the lights flicker and the TV starts cutting out before bathing them in complete darkness, despite it only being three in the afternoon.

He tries to bite back the panic that manages to settle in the pit of his stomach as he continues.“Are they getting stronger, more frequent...should I call Doctor Lee?”

Scully shakes her head as she swings her legs over the side of the bed, clutching her abdomen. “No...not yet, Mulder. I mean, there’s no getting in or out of here right now. I mean, worse comes to worst, I can coach you. It’s been a few hours since the last one.”

Mulder, although unconvinced, nods hesitantly. “I’ll get some candles going.”

-------

Twenty minutes later, as another contraction grips her, Scully is finally convinced she's in the early stages of labor. As the ice pounds their mid-century unremarkable home, she realizes no one would be going or coming here anytime soon. Determined not to alarm Mulder, she reaches with one hand for the railing as she descends the stairs and holds her belly in the other.

In the distance, she can hear Mulder tending to the fireplace before she's seized by another contraction and she can't help but let out an audible gasp as warm fluid rushes between her legs, causing her to slip slightly. “Dammit!” Before she can react, Mulder has caught sight of her and rushes up to catch her before she can fall.

Scully squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth before she feels Mulder's hand on her back. “Breathe, Scully,” he soothes.

With one arm looped around him for support, she forces herself to take a deep breath as she feels him tuck a strand of her long strawberry hair behind her ear that managed to come loose from the lazy bun.

“That was definitely a contraction, wasn't it?” He says, more of an observation than a question.

Scully takes a slow breath. “Yeah, the early stages, but we’ve still got time, Mulder. I'm just glad I'm not giving birth in the middle of nowhere with no electricity and a strange audience of onlookers.”

Mulder smiles as he gently helps Scully to her feet. “Hate to break it to you, but we do live in the middle of nowhere in case you haven't noticed and our power is out.”

“You know what I mean,” Scully grumbles.

“I do,” Mulder says sympathetically. “Now let me get this cleaned up before one of us seriously hurts ourselves.”

Scully can't help but smile as she retreats back up the stairs to get into some more comfortable, loose clothing. He sounds like a father already.

-------

Scully returns to the stairs wearing an oversized New York Knicks shirt. The only light came from a mixture of fire burning and electric candles. She could hear Mulder on the phone with the doctor. Mulder's anxiousness was palpable. She'd done this before and she was a doctor, she knew what to expect and the process. She wanted Mulder to feel as involved as he could in the birth process since he wasn't around much for the first one.

“Mulder?” she calls out.

“Scully,” he says as he makes his way to the base of the stairs.

“Shouldn't you be...resting?”

Scully shakes her head as she eases her way down the stairs. “I need to walk,” she insisted.

“It'll help her head ease into the pelvic opening and be in the best position for the birth.” Mulder gave her a blank stare before she continued. “It'll help the birth progress.”

Mulder nods but is clearly uneasy. “Well, right now there's no way in or out. The backroads are closed off due to the storm. Most likely the roads won’t be plowed until tomorrow when it clears up.”

“No shit, Mulder,” she winces, grunting through another contraction.

“Have you been timing them?”

Scully nods. “About fifteen minutes now. We still have plenty of time, but we should get everything ready just in case. I have some medical supplies in the spare bedroom. We’ll need to get some towels and cold water when we’re close. But for now, we’ll need to get the pull out ready as well as some old sheets and blankets.”

Mulder concedes. He has faith in Scully and her belief that they can do this, but he can’t help but worry in case something might go wrong.

-----

Once they have the bed set up in the living room, they ready the medical supplies, towels, and swaddling. Scully stops momentarily to breathe through a contraction and Mulder is immediately at her side.

He hates seeing her in pain even though he knew it was only temporary until their second miracle made her way into the world.

Scully breathes slow, shallow breaths as sweat starts beading her forehead. One hand curls under the expanse of her belly as the other braces her weight on the arm of the sofa. Mulder took a moment to come up from behind her, placing his hand under her belly over her own in an attempt to help ease the weight from her hips.

Scully’s labored breathing softens as she leans into him, closing her eyes as she sighs, and allowing him to nuzzle the crook of her neck.

Mulder moves his free hand up along her belly as he gently rocks them back and forth in a languid motion. Scully gasps as his hand settles along her breast, his fingers gently teasing the buds that were undoubtedly peeking through the cotton t-shirt.

“Mmm, Mulder, you’re a tease. Especially now that my water has broken, you KNOW we can’t go that far.”

Mulder pulls back with a resigned sigh. “I know, I was just hoping to be a distraction.”

Scully rewards him with a small smile. “Well, we have time. I’m going to take a...shower before the water gets cold. It might be my last one until the baby comes.”

“Want company?”

“Always.”

------

Scully pulls her long strands of wet hair to the side as Mulder uses the loofah to lather up her back, watching as the stream rinsed away the suds, deep in thought. The only light illuminating the bathroom coming from the flickering candles outside the shower. The water was slowly, but surely growing cool due to the lack of power.

He is going to be a father...again. This is what they wanted. From the moment Scully told him she was pregnant, he couldn’t help but be excited by the changes in Scully’s body and savor every moment of this pregnancy with her.

As he moves the sponge around to the front of her abdomen, he feels the taut skin contract against his touch as Scully lets out another pained moan, using both hands to grab onto the railing of the shower. Mulder drops the sponge, now forgotten as he moves to support Scully’s weight.

“Mmmm,” Scully moans against him before taking several breaths. “Ten minutes,” she mumbles. As the seconds pass by and the contraction passes, Scully straightens as she turns into Mulder, startling slightly as her tummy brushes into his erection. Just the sight of her always causes him to stand at attention. Scully can’t help but feel for Mulder. Starting now, they would be on at least a six-week break from regular intercourse.

As the water continues to pour over them both, Scully looks up to meet Mulder’s gaze as she takes him into her hands, starting slow before picking up the pace in an effort to bring him to a much-needed release.

“Oh, Scully…” he murmured. “Is this...a...a good idea?”

Keeping his grip on Scully’s hips, he closes his eyes and throws his head back.

Scully slowly eases herself down onto her knees, relishing the feel of the weight shifting from her lower back.

In one fluid motion, Scully brings the tip of Mulder’s cock in contact with her lips and she takes a moment to tease the head with her teeth before her tongue works it’s magic, savoring the taste of him.

“Oooohhh,” Mulder moans.

Mulder stiffens. It doesn’t take long before he can feel his release building. Scully picks up the pace, quickly moving back and forth.

“Oh, God…Scully, where did you...ohhh!” He screams as he spills his seed inside Scully’s mouth.

She pulls back as she swallows, enjoying the milky taste of him.

It only takes a moment of euphoria before Mulder is grounded, realizing Scully is struggling to stand and he quickly moves to help her up. Her strawberry hair is fanned over her chest, slick against her wet skin. That’s when he notices a creamy sustenance pooling at her nipples as a result of her own excitement. He read that secretion of colostrum was normal during arousal late in pregnancy and after birth before the breast milk came in during the months of breastfeeding.

Scully watches him for a moment before following his gaze before emitting a small gasp as he moves his lips over her nipple. She closes her eyes and releases a moan of contentment. The moment is short lived as she feels another contraction building in her lower back before rippling across her abdomen.

“Oooh, God,” she winces, squeezing her eyes closed.

Mulder catches her before she’s able to slip and he realizes the contractions are getting closer together, fast. “I don’t think she’s going to wait much longer, let's get out of here before one of us slips and falls.”

Once Scully catches her breath, she mutters, “Relax, Mulder, she’s not going to drop into the shower.”

-----

They spend the next few hours walking around inside as much as the width of four walls would allow. The baby hasn’t even been born yet and Scully already feels cooped up inside their unremarkable home. Scully sits on the edge of the day bed in the living room, wearing nothing but an over-sized shirt. The fire and multitude of candles in the room being the only light illuminating the darkness. The snowfall has since ceased and the sun set hours ago.

Scully braces herself against the mattress, using her palms to support her weight against it as she takes several shallow breaths. She hears Mulder in the kitchen as she breathes through another contraction, suddenly fighting the urge to push.

“Oooooohhhh,” she cries out.

Mulder is there in an instant, placing a bucket of cold water at her side before he reaches out to her with a damp towel and gently presses it against her forehead.

“Four minutes,” she gasps. “I don’t think it will be long now, Mulder.”

He nods as he examines her worried features, helpless as he watches her in pain. Scully opens her eyes and seems to take notice. Taking the towel from him, she offers, “it’s all perfectly normal, Mulder...it’s just...I’d hoped we’d be in a hospital this time. I wanted doctors, nurses, electricity and dammit, the epidural,” she whimpers.

“Since when has anything gone as planned in our lives, Scully?” He offers a small smile.

Scully takes another breath as Mulder moves to situate himself behind her. He rubs her back as she sways just slightly.

“This isn’t exactly what I imagined when I said I wanted to get away from the darkness, Mulder,” she mutters.

Mulder chuckles slightly, doing his best not to let Scully be privy to how anxious he felt.

“And I remember telling you the darkness always finds you and I,” he says as he moves back to sit in front of her.

As her face contorts, he can tell another contraction is building, each one slowly bringing them closer and closer to their daughter.

“Oh, God...”

“Breathe,” he whispers. Scully does her best to fight the urge to push and, in a lame attempt to distract her, he places his hand on her abdomen.

“She’s our light in the darkness, Scully,” he whispers. “A guiding beacon. Tangible proof that we always seem to find our way back to each other.”

Scully looks back at Mulder, tears welling in her eyes unrelated to the pain. Their unspoken language telling him she believed the same thing.

The pressure in her cervix has her in doctor mode almost immediately. “Mulder, I’m feeling so much pressure.I feel like I need to push...I need you to check and see if she's close,” she says methodically. “Once I'm fully dilated, I can push,” she explains.

Mulder looks at her, his eyes wide.

“Mulder, I need you to see how far dilated I am,” she instructs as Mulder gives her a confused glance. He’s white as a sheet, in full panic mode.

He must have been like that for some time as Scully’s frustrated voice slices right through his thoughts. “Mulder!”

“Okay,” he says apprehensively.

“When I am fully dilated, it should be the width of about four fingers,” she explains.

Mulder nods as he moves to inspect her lower half. As he does so, Scully lets out another low, primal moan. The contractions are growing closer and closer together at an alarming rate and are growing much longer in duration.

He does his best to hide his panicked expression. Layers of sweat have already formed at his brow.

“You’re at about 3 fingers, Scully.”

Scully curls forward as she pants and between pained breaths, she moans. “Ooooooh!”

“This is happening fast, I thought we had time,” Mulder says frantically before he recalls something he read in one of the books. This was Scully's second pregnancy and it was common for labor to progress quicker with each delivery.

“She’s your baby, Mulder,” she pants out. “Determined. Persistent. Despite the cruel world that awaits.”

Mulder manages to smile. “Ah, but you taught me the world wasn’t such a bad place,” he mused.

Scully shakes her head as she continues to pant. “My mom,” she says suddenly. “Call my mom. I told her I’d let her know when the baby comes,” she breathes.

“But she’s in San Diego for the holiday, right? It’s late--.”

“She won’t mind,” Scully insists before her face scrunches up in preparation for another contraction. “Do it, now !”

“Okay, okay,” Mulder rushes to the landline, his cell phone battery having just enough juice left to pull up his contact list and dial Maggie’s cell phone number. As he looks outside, he hopes and prays that the roads would be paved soon so they could get their electrical back. He curses himself for not thinking to charge his cell ahead of time. But Scully did have hers…

“Hello?” the familiar voice of Margaret Scully sounds through the line, startling Mulder from his thoughts.

“Mrs. Scully,” Mulder blurts out.

“Fox? What’s going on, it’s the middle of the night...did...Dana had the baby, didn’t she?” the older Scully gushes.

“No...not yet,” he fumbles before he continues. “But it’s coming soon,” he explains.

He hears a pause on the other end of the line before Maggie continues. “You’re not calling me on your cell...Fox,” Mulder hears her worrying. “You’re at home. Have you called the ambulance?”

Mulder closes his eyes as he hears Scully cry out. “Yes...we’re, we’re okay. Since Sc...Dana has been through this before, she’s confident we can do this ourselves. The roads are closed due to the snow and the power is out. But, I just wanted to let you know.”

He hears an audible gasp on the other line and Mulder knows Scully’s mother could hear her. He can’t begin to imagine the worry that must be plaguing her features. He is terrified. She must sense this because she continues in a cool, resolved tone of voice.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned about my daughter in these past few years, it’s to trust her judgment,” Maggie says with firm resolve.

“Of course, always,” Mulder replies, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels at the moment. “It’s saved me a thousand times over.”

“Good. Now, go help deliver my grandchild, Fox. I’ll try and get a flight out tomorrow -- permitted there are no delays.”

“ Mulder !!” Mulder startles at the urgency in Scully’s voice.

“OK, safe travels,” Mulder hangs up the phone and rushes back into the living area. Scully has since removed her over-sized shirt and is covered by a single bed sheet from the chest down.

Scully looks up as Mulder is beside her instantly and before she could even say it, he knew.

“It’s time.”

He nods quickly as he places several pillows behind her for additional support. “Tell me, tell me what I need to do, Scully.”

Scully shakes her head violently as she breathes. “We have the towels and swaddling. We don't need that right away. I just need you to catch her. Once she’s out, I need you to clean out her mouth and nose so she can breathe, and put her on my chest so I can keep her warm and regulate her body temperature.”

Mulder nods. He remembers learning some swaddling techniques in Lamaze, though he never got to put the skills to use the first time. There would be a lot of “firsts”, he realizes.

“Catch...yes, of course, I can do that,” he fumbles over his words.

Scully’s face starts to contort as she sits up and spreads her legs wide. “Ooooh, I need to push.”

Mulder rushes to the end of the bed and pulls the sheets back. He gasps at the sight he was robbed of the first time. “Scully...I...I can see her head,” he gushes.

“Ahhhhhhhrgh,” Scully cries out through a contraction while moving to press her hands against her perineum, feeling the warm head of their baby bulging against her palm.

They continue this technique several times along with Mulder’s encouragement. As Mulder does his best to soothe and coach his wife through each push, through each contraction, he takes several calming breaths. The air in the room is thick, accompanied by the roaring flames from the fireplace and he was visibly sweating. Whether from panic or the heat of the room, he wasn’t sure which.

“Come on, Scully. You can do this, we can do this,” he says assuringly, partially to himself as well. “Her head is almost out, we’re almost there.”

After another push, Scully falls back into the pillows stacked behind her, releasing another labored breath. She closes her eyes for a moment to gather herself, but Dr. Scully is all business once again. “I need you to…” she breathes out in a huff. “...Make sure the cord isn’t around her neck,” the words come out in a strained whisper.

Mulder looks down at the head of hair being pushed into the world from the cocoon of her mother’s body. “Okay, I got this, Scully...push!”

As Scully bears down, the head slips out causing Mulder to gasp in complete awe. “Oh my God, Scully, her head is out. She’s almost here,” his voice cracks as he cradles it between his palms.

Scully leans back and takes several steadying breaths against the pillows. The long strands of strawberry hair pulled back into a ponytail have managed to break free, coming glued to her clammy skin.

“Breathe, Scully….you can do this. Each push is bringing you closer to meeting our daughter.”

Scully is crying at the weight of it all, the pain, the fear, the stress and of course the prospect of finally meeting the tiny person she’d carried these past nine months. Once she gathers enough courage, their daughter slips out after a few final pushes.

“We have a daughter,” Mulder gushes as the tiny baby slips into his hands. He glances at his watch. 6:31AM. A Christmas miracle.

Scully panics for a moment at the sound of silence, but it is short lived as a piercing cry breaks through the darkness of the living room. Their unremarkable house becomes remarkable with the miracle of new life.

Mulder’s throat is tight with emotion as he brings the tiny pink being up into his arms for Scully to see. Their eyes meet and suddenly, all three of them are crying as Mulder delivers their tiny miracle onto Scully’s chest. The baby reaches, almost instinctively towards Scully, tiny arms managing to cleave to her neck.

“Oh. My. God. Hi, you’re really here,” Scully’s says, her voice breaking. “Welcome to the world, my sweet girl.”

Scully holds her close as Mulder, ever so gently, towels the squalling being down. He tosses the soiled towels into a bucket and gathers another fresh one, gently placing it over the baby in attempt to help keep her warm. The tiny pink face contorts as she adjusts to the newness of everything around her.

Keeping his hand on the baby, Mulder moves beside Scully, resting his head against her as they observe this second miracle together and he is thankful for every moment. Scully sniffles as she places a gentle kiss to the baby’s head as she settles against her skin.

“She’s perfect, Scully,” Mulder whispers gently against his ear, moving a hand to gently stroke the soft tufts of dark hair on her tiny head. Scully bites her lip as more tears threaten to spill over.

“What are we gonna name her?” he asks, eliciting a sudden deja vu from Scully. She’s filled with a mix of emotions as she replays the memory in her head. They had had this before and not long after, Mulder had to run for his life. ‘ Please God, let us be able to keep her safe .’

“Scully,” Mulder’s voice pulls her back to the present.

She looks from Mulder down to the tiny baby on her chest. “Umm, well. I know we haven’t really be able to settle on anything and we agreed not to name her after anyone this time, but I was thinking about the name Holly. Holly Joy.”

Mulder’s eyes fill with tears as he looks down at their tiny daughter. “Holly. How about that, baby?”

Holly opens her mouth wide in response.

“I think she likes it,” Mulder says as he gently places a kiss to Scully’s temple. A sudden light fills the room, the sun making its descent into the sky. “Perfect for a Christmas baby.”

“Mulder,” she says, once again breaking through his reverie. “I need to deliver the placenta.” Once again, Mulder is white as a sheet and Scully can’t help but smile. “It’s okay, Mulder. Think of it as her life support system. We don’t need to cut the cord just yet, the longer we wait it’s actually better for her, but if I don’t deliver the placenta, I could hemorrhage.”

Mulder nods hurriedly as he awkwardly manages to get to work, his gaze alternating between Scully with the baby to the job at hand. Gently, he begins to palpitate her abdomen and it’s then he begins the feel the tremors from beneath.

He looks up at Scully who is whispering gently to the bundle on her chest and is reminded of the so brief a time when William was still with them when Scully had become a mother. Time seemed to cease in these moments, reminding him of the fragility of life and everything important in it.

“Scully,” he felt himself whisper in a daze.

Scully slowly pulls her attention away from the small being who is now dozing at her chest.

“Ugh...these contractions,” he starts

“Completely normal, Mulder as the placenta expels itself.”

A few minutes later, with the placenta delivered and wrapped off to the side, Mulder moves beside Scully who know has the baby situated at her breast, the tiny mouth instinctively opens as she ever so gently helps her toward the nipple. She latches on and begins to suckle.

Mulder stares in awe and he catches Scully's gaze as she smiles back at him. A smile so wide, something he hasn't seen in years -- seven years, to be exact -- bringing him back to a similar moment in time.

With a tentative hand, Mulder touches the tint head and strokes the downy head.

Scully's face falls for just a moment, undoubtedly recalling the same memory.

“What is it, Scully?”

She stares down at their daughter, sucking contentedly.

“I just hope that wherever William is right now, that he's safe and loved.”

Mulder nods as he remembers his words. “I think our son left us both with an emptiness that can't be filled,” he explains. “But we have to be able to move forward, for her,” he nods towards the bundle in Scully's arms.“And, someday, when the time is right, hold onto the hope that we'll see him again.”

Scully nods as tears spill over her cheeks, her heart thudding in her chest as she experiences every possible emotion at once.

As the sun ascends into the sky, illuminating their living room, the once crackling fire simultaneously turned into crackling embers. The sound of tires against gravel is heard in the distance as Mulder heaves a heavy sigh of relief.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder,” Scully says.

Mulder turns towards her, contentment flooding through his chest at the sight of them both and leans forward as Scully presses her lips against his.

Their second miracle unlatches from Scully's breast and lets out a mewl between them.

Startled, they both pull away at the sound.

Mulder chuckles as Scully smiles and lifts the baby towards him. Taking the small bundle into his arms he starts to rock her gently, knowing the time they had just the three of them was coming closer and closer to an end.

“Hey there,” he croons. “I can’t wait to tell you about Sasquatch and Mothmen. I will drive you just as insane with my theories of genius.”

Scully snorts in response as she watches them both, her heart heavy in her chest.

The tiny baby wrinkles her face, closing her baby blues as she lets out a cry.

“See, she’s ready to attack my bulletproof theories of genius already.”

And although their son left both their hearts with an emptiness, those wounds were finally beginning to heal at the prospect of having again what was once taken from them. They were filled with a new purpose and hope at the chance for happiness and faith that their first child would one day find his way back to them.

END

#xfilesiwtb #mulderandscully #babyscullymulder #christmas

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hmorris0712 · 6 years

Text

truth or dare~ tyler joseph x reader

truth or dare~ tyler x reader

a/n: ahhh another one for y’all! sorry if it’s cringey, crappy, etc shdhdjsk🤧🤧 but without further adieu, let’s begin 🤪

your p.o.v.

i don’t exactly know how i got here. oh, where is here, you ask? college party at jake’s house. who is jake? i don’t know, my friend jess was the one who convinced me to come here. it’s not that i’m not a party person, i’m game for pretty much anything. i just don’t know many of the people here, at this specific party. but i’m pretty sure i can get to know them within the hours i’m here.

i do know one guy, however. he dropped out a couple months ago, but we all still love him. he’s one of my best friends. he was the star player of the basketball team, he’s super poetic, he has such an angelic voice, he’s a self taught pianist, and he’s just one of the sweetest guys out there. sure, he has his immature boy moments, but he’s an all-around funny and extremely nice guy. his name is tyler, and i may or may not like him as more than a best friend.

so far we’ve played poker, bs, and spin the bottle, which i did not participate in, and neither did tyler. he sat on one of the couches and caught up with one of his friends, brendon i believe is his name.

everyone who’s playing is currently finishing up the last round of spin the bottle. after the last kiss is shared, jake gets up and announces that we’ll be playing truth or dare next. people get up and gather around in a circle on the ground.

“hey (y/n)! you gonna play?” jess asks, patting the open carpet next to her, an invitation for me to sit with her. “you bet i am!” i reply back, happily taking my spot. once everyone is seated, jake starts the game. “alright, here are the rules. when you are asked truth or dare and you answer truth, you have two options: you can either admit the truth of whatever you are asked, or, if you don’t want to spill any tea, drink a shot.” he says right as his brother, will, comes up behind him with a bottle and some shotglasses. everyone laughs and the excitement is already building up for this game.

“if you are dared to do something, you cannot back out of it. no matter how hard you don’t want to do it. it was your risk, so it’s your reward.” he says with a slightly evil smirk. jess leans over and whispers in my ear “i’m so not doing dare.” i let out a small laugh. “bet.” i reply. she laughs along with me. i look straight ahead of me and across the circle is tyler. he sees me and gives a half smirk and raises one eyebrow. “you ready?” he asks. “pff. i was born ready. truth or dare is my game.” i say, flipping my hair off my shoulder to show my confidence. he shrugs. “we’ll see.” he says smugly as he looks back to jake, who’s looking for a person to call on. since he’s essentially the host of the party, he gets to start off each game we play.

his eyes scan the circle. “hmm.....jess!” jess’ eye’s widen. “aw no, i wasn’t ready!” she whisper yells to me, though everyone can hear her, resulting in laughter all around. jake rolls his eyes. “truth or dare?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow. she pauses and thinks for a moment. “truth.” she says mostly confidently. “ooh she wanna spill some dramaaaa.” will says, wiggling his eyebrows. jess rolls her eyes.

“how about...have you ever had any traumatic experiences in your lifetime?” jess pauses to think. “hm...well, i did fall off a ladder and broke my hubris when i was 9.” she replies. tyler’s face contorts in discomfort at the description. jake stares blankly at jess. “what’s a hubris?” jess shakes her head and sighs in disappointment. she points to a part of her forearm. “ohhhh.” jake nods as his eyebrows raise slightly.

a few more people get called on for truth or dare. jordan was just dared to take off his shirt and pants and run down the street in just his underwear screaming the lyrics to that absolutely horrid song by jake paul, its everyday bro.

jordan comes back inside and immediately grabs his shirt and pants and flips brendon off, who was the one who dared him to do it, no surprise.

jordan sits back down and immediately calls on someone for truth or dare, like he had a specific person in mind. “truth or dare (y/n)?” wha-me? alright then.

“i’ll do truth.” i reply with no sign of fear in my voice, my nerves aren’t even on edge. this game puts me at rest and brings me to life at the same time and i have no idea how.

“who’s your crush?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows once again. i scoff and reach for the shotglass as soon as he finishes that sentence. “oh no, you won’t be hearing that one out of me, sorry folks.” i say as i down the shot in one second.

“awh but that’s boring (y/n).” tyler complaines. i swallow the liquid and place the shotglass on the table behind me, never breaking eye contact with him. “alright then. truth or dare, tyler?” i ask, still looking at him confidently. “dare.” he replies not a second after the words leave my mouth. i raise my eyebrows, as do jess and jake, at his sudden burst of competitiveness. alright, alright. i see you.

“okay. i dare you to kiss the most attractive person in this room.” i say with a smirk. collective oooooh’s can be heard all around me. tyler’s eyes widen briefly at my words, which make my smirk grow. i mentally high five myself. “got him.” i whisper in jess’ ear.

however, my smirk fades as i see him get closer. to me. and it’s not like he’s slowly inching towards me, no, he’s moving quickly. but for me it’s all happening in slow motion, as cliche and cheesy as that sounds.

before i know it his hands are on my cheeks and his lips crash onto mine, and i only just now realize how long i’ve wanted this. multiple people gasp at the sudden turn of events. to my dismay however, the kiss only lasts for a brief few seconds. he breaks the kiss and looks at me directly in the eyes, hands still on my face. “joke’s on you.” he mumbles before letting go and retreating back to his spot. some of our friends just sit there, eyes wide open, while others laugh their heads off, and the rest are ooohing and/or awwing. tyler winks at me once he’s sitting down again. i can feel my cheeks burning up, no need to tell me. and he must have noticed, because his smirk grows increasingly, and he chuckles along with his friends.

okay first of all, what the heck.

second of all, what the heck.

jess looks at me with her jaw dropped and elbows me in the arm. “dude. you just got kissed by your crush. do you realize how extremely RARE of an occasion that is?.” “shh he’s right there!” i whisper yell back at her. i look over at them to see brendon giving tyler a fist bump. the guys offer tyler the bottle, but he politely refuses and pushes it away. brendon shrugs and takes a swig for himself before passing the bottle back to jake.

the party continues for hours more and everyone’s still having a great time. it’s pretty late, around 11 o’clock to be specific, so i briefly excuse myself from the party to take a walk outside around the neighborhood. i walk for a while trying to sort through my thoughts. does tyler like...like me like me? or was that just for the dare? i mean, he’s my best friend. he probably doesn’t like me like that. like, there are definitely a lot of girls who are much prettier than i am for him to take. ugh, i’m overthinking this aren’t i?

after what i assume has been about fifteen minutes, i decide to head back. when i reach jake’s front yard, i see a figure exiting the front door and walking towards me. although i can only see his silhouette, i’ve seen him enough to know it’s tyler. a small smile adorns his face when he sees me. we both stop under one of the trees in the yard.

“they told me you’d be out here.” he says, looking around at all the houses hiding under the cloak of the night. “i just needed some fresh air, y’know?” i explain. he nods. we lean against the tree in a slightly awkward, yet slightly comfortable silence. eventually tyler pulls the bottle we used earlier for truth or dare from behind his back with a smirk. “wanna play?” he asks, eyes sparkling. wait, how are they sparkling? it’s like...really dark out here, there’s no light to reflect off of his eyes.

oh well.

i return the gesture and give a half smirk. “you know it.” i say, taking the bottle from him. “alright, i’ll go first. truth or dare?” i ask. “truth.” he says, his calm and kind eyes never leaving mine. i think for a few seconds. “what’s your least favorite time of day?” “anytime i’m not eating.” he says with a small laugh. i laugh as well. “you’re such a boy.” “well what do you expect? i’m still technically a teenager, plus food is amazing!” he defends.

i raise one eyebrow at him. “okay one, yes food is amazing, i can’t disagree with that. two, you’re a young adult, that’s different from a teen. just because ‘eighteen’ ends in ‘teen’ doesn’t mean you’re still a teen.” i argue. he rolls his eyes. “whatever (y/n), i think it’s my turn. truth or dare?” “dare.” i reply boldly, folding my arms over my chest. “wow i can just feel the confidence radiating off of you right now.” i slap his arm. “just give me a dare already ty.” he laughs a bit more before speaking. “i dare you to make eye contact with me for five minutes straight.”

i furrow my eyebrows. “wait like, i look into your eyes and you look into mine? for five minutes? like no breaks?” i ask. he pulls out his phone. “yep. i’ll set a timer.” “wait can i blink?” i ask quickly. he holds in a laugh. “yes, you can blink. i don’t think it’s actually possible for someone to not blink for five minutes. if there is, please prove me wrong and bring me the guinness book of world records.” he says as his thumbs tap away at his phone, setting a five minute timer. when he finishes he looks up at me. “ready?” “i mean no, i’m horrible when it comes to eye contact but whatever it’s a dare let’s go.” i ramble. he smiles.

“alright three, two, one, aaand start.” he says as he presses start on the timer and puts his phone back in his pocket, eyes immediately falling on mine and staying there.

it’s not every day you get the chance to stare at your crush’s eyes for five consecutive minutes. and even though it’s dark, as the seconds fly by i’m able to see more and more detail in his eyes. i realize for the first time that they aren’t just a brown, they’re more of an oakwood mixed with evergreen leaves and little tiny flecks of gold scattered throughout, giving his eyes their honey-like glow. and his eyelashes are ridiculously long, like it’s unfair how beautiful they are.

“your have really pretty eyes.” i blurt out without realizing, mentally kicking myself for saying that out loud. a smile slowly forms on his face as he shakes his head. “your eyes are the most gorgeous things i’ve ever seen.” he says sincerely. i feel my cheeks heat up slightly, but at least it’s dark so he can’t see. why do i keep getting these weird feelings in my stomach? it’s like a freaking tornado in there.

“they’re really not though. i mean, have you even seen your eyelashes?” i counter. “oh i have, trust me. they’re really nothing special. just kinda long that’s all.” “exactly my point! it’s not fair.” i pout slightly. “i’ll tell you what’s not fair. what’s not fair is for someone to be allowed to be as beautiful as you are.” he points at me.

my heart rate speeds up. “really?” i squeak out in a hopeful tone. he smiles and nods a little. “really. you’re extremely cute as well.” “okay now you’re just flattering me, stop it.” i say, trying to cover up the fact that i’m freaking out over a few words. he smiles. god i love that smile. i study his eyes once more. has he gotten closer to me?

my own question is answered as i watch him, slowly seeing him inch his face closer to mine, eyes still never leaving mine, our gazes locked on each other. why is it suddenly getting harder to breathe? man, i need to go catch my breath real quick, brb.

“h-have i ever told you i that like you?” he says, voice barely above a whisper, trying hard not to look away from me. my breath hitches in my throat and the heat rushes to my face. one cause being i can feel his breath on my face, and the other being oh my god. he likes me. he *likes* me. like he *likes me* likes me. i-i’m sorry, but you’ll have to come back later, i’ll be in my coffin. peace out.

“uh n-no, you haven’t.” “well, i do.” he says it as if it’s completely normal. i swear my heart actually stops for a second. with his eyes still on mine, he blindly reaches for my hand and finds it perfectly on the first try. he laces our fingers together. “i like you too tyler.” i reply, making his smile grow a billion times bigger. i can tell he wants to look down at our hands, but...he kinda did this to himself.

“is it weird that i wanna kiss you right now?” he says, leaning in so his nose is touching mine. god, why does he have to freaking do this to me? i inhale, trying to keep my breathing steady. “well no. but, you can’t because our five minutes aren’t up yet.” i say smirking. he narrows his eyes. “touché.”

a few seconds later his alarm finally goes off. he reaches into his pocket with his free hand and presses stop on the alarm. “see that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” i laugh and look down at the ground. when i raise my head up again i’m met with a soft pair of eyes looking at me longingly, making my heart melt on the spot. i realize that once again, tyler’s managed to get his face closer to mine.

and it just keeps getting closer and closer until he finally closes the gap between us completely. i smile against his lips, feeling...happy. safe. loved. happy knowing that my feelings weren’t unrequited. safe knowing that it’s tyler. loved knowing that no matter what happens, he’ll always love and protect me with his whole being, because that’s just the kind of person he is. and i wouldn’t change it for the world.

~end~

#tyler joseph #tyler joseph x reader #tyler joseph imagine #twenty one pilots #twenty one pilots imagine #brendon urie

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sabraeal · 6 years

Text

Merry & Bright: Chapter 7

He should be over this.

(Doc makes him pull off the highway somewhere near Florence, South Carolina; she’s got an actual travel itinerary that Yuzuri helped her program into some app that includes mandatory stretch breaks because she’s concerned about good circulatory health, and – god, that really shouldn’t be doing anything for him, but it does, it does, and he’s a real idiot thinking that this is a good idea –

“It’s an overlook,” she tells him proudly as they park, smile stretching far too wide for the amount of time they’ve been in a cramped car with a week’s worth of stuff and a Christmas’s worth of gifts. “A stretch and a view!”

He swallows down a protest that it hasn’t even been two hours since they grabbed lunch – some little place that served fish in Switzerland, the only one where the whole menu wasn’t deep fried – and heaves himself out of the car, only to find that it’s – it’s not as easy as it should be.

“Yowch,” he mutters, rubbing at his back. He’s been a total knot of stress since they started north, he’s aware, but –

But god, his back is reminding him of every hit he ever took, and when he throws his arms up, bending back, he has a real moment of worry that it’s going to take an uncomfortable drive and an emergency room bill to get him upright. He’s only twenty-five, he shouldn’t be worrying about this shit.

“Obi?” she chirps, skipping over to him with a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?”

A choir of angels sing Hosanna when his back relents, letting him snap upright. “Yeah, just fine. Had to, uh, get a kink out. You know how it is.”

Doc gives him a skeptical look, and – listen, he knows she won’t do anything but tut at him and fish out some all-organic Icy/Hot or whatever she’s got hiding in their pharmacy bag, but she’ll also tell Yuzuri, and he knows, he knows that will mean he’ll get a half dozen :3 :3 :3 texts followed by something like, gotta keep that back healthy if ur gonna rob that cradle already, and he doesn’t need that. Not this trip.

“Okay,” she says finally, mouth in a thoughtful pout. “But let me know if you need anything.”

He just manages to close his lips around, for us to turn south already. “Sure thing, Doc. I’ll be the first in line for your tender ministrations the second I have an excuse.”)

It would’ve been a hit to his pride to have turned around before he ever got here, before he even attempted to walk through the door, but Obi would have taken it if it meant dread wouldn’t be his constant companion.

That’s what he’d thought being in this house would be; just constant dread, like realizing he’s in the wrong bathroom, or watching his favorite movie as a kid again as an adult, wondering if it would still hold up. Just a week of waiting for the other shoe to drop, and wondering if it would right in front of Doc.

He’d survived it though, cookie in his mouth and arm slung around Doc’s shoulders, with nothing worse than a flash of hesitation before walking straight back into his childhood.

But now, with Todd and Kelly Ann trailing behind him and the stern set of Gayle’s mouth looming in front of him --

It’s different. Like being right back in high school, black cocert T-shirt for a band that broke up before he was born and jeans ripped at the knees, just waiting to find out how he’s been a disappointment today. The past is a ghost he can’t shake, something that clings to him even when he tries to step out from under it’s shadow.

Doesn’t help that there’s so many people waiting to see him fail to do it, either.

“Obi!” Doc springs up from the floor, all coltish limbs, practically tripping over herself. God, this is really what he’s into now; messy hair and thick tights, barely able to keep her balance with her shoes off, someone who watched vegan cheese not melt and still could say something nice about it.

She tucks herself against his side, head fitting against the girdle of his shoulder like it was meant to be there and –

And he doesn’t even regret it. Who the fuck cares about girls with Barbie heels and legs for days; Doc can barely keep her hair in a barrette and he just – wants it. Wants the way he hooks her hair back around her ear to be real.

She stares up at him, all eyes. “You’re --?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, letting his fingers linger on the hollow behind her ear just a second too long before adjusting his hold on her, his arm draping over the line of her shoulders like it belongs there. “Everything’s as sorted as it’s gonna get.”

The worry won’t shake from her, not like he wants it to. There’s no way he’s going to be able to relax in this house, not with memory waiting to ambush him around every corner, but he just – doesn’t want her to worry about it either, about whether everyone here likes him enough, or is recognizing his accomplishments, or – whatever it is she’s looking for. He doesn’t know how to tell her that it’s fine, that he’s done enough to know that forgiveness doesn’t grow on trees, and there may not be enough for what he’s done.

He drags his gaze away, trying to escape the worry, the guilt – only to find the same on Gayle’s face, that tight-lipped concern that makes him want to squirm right out from the microscope he’s under.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to survive it for long.

“Laila!” Kelly Ann rounds the couch, hands on her hips. “You’ve been letting Shirayuki play too, haven’t you? You can’t be all the animals.”

“I let her be the baby,” the girl says, unconcerned, making giraffes escape their pen to play with penguins.

“Laila --”

“It’s fine!” Doc is quick to assure her. “The baby had fun watching all the animals play.”

The distraction may have gotten Doc’s look off him, but Gayle isn’t deterred, not the slightest bit.

“Well, I was just about to start in on dinner,” she says, gaze shifting behind him. “Todd, Obi, do you boys think you could see your way to helping out an old woman?”

Todd’s not standing anywhere near close to him, but Obi knows he tenses like he does, knows that they both looks like cats with their backs up –

“Oh, Gayle!” Doc lurches under his arm, like she’s torn between staying right where she is and shoving herself forward. “Please, let me help! Todd just got here.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Gayle huffs, waving her off. “You’re a guest, and Todd’s used to being put to work. Besides you should save up your strength – I’ll have you in the kitchen tomorrow, anyway.”

“Some guest,” Todd laughs. “Can’t work tonight but you’ll be putting her through her paces in the morning?”

“You know how it is around here,” Gayle tells him airily. “Two days and then you’re family.”

God, his chest shouldn’t ache like this. “It’s fine, Doc,” he says, rubbing her arm before he steps away. “What could go wrong in a room full of knives?”

She looks anything but convinced. “But --”

“Oh, leave them to it,” Kelly Ann says with a roll of her eyes. “Take advantage of the reprieve now – you’ll wish you had it in three days, once Gayle’s got you.”

“I don’t --”

“Come on, you can help me,” she says, catching Doc by the shoulders. “I have so much Doc McStuffins to watch.”

Laila shrieks, hands slamming on the floor as she turns to look at her mom. “I love Doc McStuffins.”

“Fancy that,” Kelly Ann deadpans, mouth twitching at the corners.

“Go ahead,” Obi murmurs to Doc when she hesitates. “I’ll live.”

She gives him a long look, then nods. “Sounds great.”

Obi’s not quite sure what possesses Gayle to put knives in their hands, but here they are, Todd on one side of the island and Obi on the other, butcher block cutting boards abutting each other as they dice vegetables. She’s even gone and turned her back on them, humming along with the Christmas songs on the radio, water steaming up from the sink as she hand-cleans her kitchen aid attachments, made back when Eisenhower was probably president.

“Truck still treating you right, Todd?” Gayle asks, lifting her voice over the stream.

“Yeah, yeah,” he calls back, shooting an uncertain glance at Obi. “Haven’t had any trouble with it since the last time.”

“Well, Bob’s already talked to Jesse,” she presses, like always. “He says he’ll look at it when he comes.”

“Aw, Gayle,” Todd sighs, suffering. “He shouldn’t have said anything. It’s fine. All Jesse’ll do is tell me I don’t take care of it right --”

“He would know,” Gayle reminds him.

“—And he’ll give me, you know, a talk.” Todd huffs. “Probably try to say something about women being engines on top of that.”

“Jesse still works at the garage?” Obi asks, know the moment he says it that it’s – dumb. It’s been six years, no one’s who he remembers except in the worst ways.

“Didn’t we tell you?” Gayle cocks her head at him. “Jesse owns his own now. Went into business with that friend of his. You remember – Scott?”

“Shane,” Todd and Obi supply at the same time. Todd glares.

“Right, Shane.” Gayle smiles. “They’ve been doing well.”

“You’d know that if you stuck around,” Todd mutters, just loud enough for Obi to hear him, and for Gayle to not.

“You done with those onions, Obi?” she asks, bright.

“Yeah, got them all chopped up here.” He points at a bowl that’s seen more of his tears than the past six years all together. “You need them somewhere.”

She drops a metal bowl between them and shoves a few handful of onions in. “Why don’t you boys mix that up and start putting the meatballs on the tray to bake. I’ll get the rest of this in the sauce.”

They give each other a wary look, but they drop their knives, mixing meat and veg and breadcrumbs up until it’s even –

“And now that you boys can’t get away,” Gayle says, hands coming down hard on the island. “Let me tell you how things are going to be.”

“What?” Todd says, the same time Obi manages an, “Erk?”

“I know you both have never seen eye-to-eye –“ Todd opens his mouth to protests, and Gayle holds up a hand – “don’t care whose fault y’all think it is, or why. That’s between you boys, ‘less you make it involve me.”

They both nod.

“That being said, you’re gonna get along this Christmas,” she tells them, firm. “You’re men, not boys, and I won’t have you ruining the whole thing for everyone just because you think you have bad blood between you.”

“But --”

“And Lord help me, if I catch either of you sniping at each other in my hearing, I will put you both into the dog house.”

Obi coughs, nervous. “Well, the Baron’s got some nice digs --”

“Not the Baron’s,” she clarifies with frightening calm. “Millie’s.”

Obi grimaces, remembering the dilapidated old thing for a dog he’d been too late to see.

“We took that down, three years back,” Todd protests, “you can’t --”

“Then I will make you put a tent in its place and share it until you both can act like civilized people.” Her hands fist on her hips. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” they both chorus.

“Good,” she says, firm. She turns back to the sink, like the last three minutes of threats have all just been a figment of their imagination. “Now remember, those meatballs are supposed to be tablespoon-sized, boys.”

It’s a blessing that kids’ shows don’t have any sort of continuity at Laila’s age; Shirayuki doubts that she’d be able to say a single thing about what’s been happening on the screen for the last hour, let alone tracking some sort of – of plot. It’s been hard enough to not to find some excuse to put herself in the kitchen, to make sure that Obi isn’t just suffering his slights silently, trying not to make a circus out of it for Gayle –

A hand presses firmly against her knee.

“You’re shaking the couch,” Kelly Ann tells her, voice pitched low. “Worrying about it won’t make it go any better for him.”

She knows that, she does, but not thinking about it won’t help either, and she feels like she owes him a little bit of suffering, if she’s making him face it alone –

“Besides.” Kelly Ann settles back, her arm sprawling over the back of the couch. “Gayle’s raised Todd half his life. Don’t think she doesn’t know what his sniping looks like.”

That…is a good point.

“Don’t want to interrupt your girl time.”

Shirayuki startles, twisting up on her knees to see Obi leaning in the doorway, mouth rucked up in a smirk.

“You’re not interrupting,” she assures him, a little too breathless. “Just -- watching some stuff?”

“Doc McStuffins,” Laila corrects huffily. “Not stuff.”

“Right, well.” Obi shrugs his shoulder. “When you’re done with that, Gayle says it’s time for dinner.”

Laila’s head whips around, eyes narrowed. “What’s for dinner?”

“Worms,” he says easily. “She said it was your favorite --”

“Ewwwww.” She looks at Kelly Ann. “Mommy, I don’t want to --”

“It’s meatballs and pasta,” Kelly Ann sighs. “Not worms.”

Laila glares at Obi. “But why would he say --?”

“He’s teasing, Laila-girl.” Kelly Ann glances back at him as well. “That’s what he likes to do best.”

“Well, I do like pasta and meatballs,” Laila tells him magnanimously, getting to her feet. “We can have dinner now.”

Obi gets that look in his eye, but Shirayuki is much, much to far away to whisper don’t and have him hear. “Thank you for your permission, your majesty.”

Without a single hint of irony, Laila lifts her chin, imperious as any royal. “You’re welcome.”

For once, Obi seems speechless, just watching the tiny girl sweep past. Kelly Ann barely muffles a snort.

“You should know better,” she tells him, patting his cheek as she walks by. “You don’t need to encourage little girls to be princesses.”

Shirayuki means to grab him in the hall, before dinner, but with Laila and Kelly Ann just ahead of them, there’s no privacy, no good way to pull him aside and ask – ask –

If he’s okay. If this is all getting to be a little too much for him, now that there seems to be an endless stream of disapproving siblings added to this already full emotional powder keg. If –

If it’s all right that she knows about Shannon. If this is a thing she’s supposed to talk about, or – or if she should forget she ever heard anything. Families have secrets, she knows that; every one has things they all know but pretend they don’t, just to keep the peace, but --

But she’s not used to being a part of that, not when it was always just her and Oma and Opa, and –

And it’s not until she sees it – dining room table with the leaves in, covered in a tablecloth and festive runner, dishes steaming where they sit on the table – that she realizes how long it’s been since she’s done this. Since she’s had a family dinner.

Obi’s elbow jostles her in the doorway. “Can’t eat with your eyes, Doc. C’mon, let’s go sit.”

She stumbles in, feet numb, sliding into a chair next to him. There’s been dinners out, of course, times she and Obi have cooked for Yuzuri and Suzu and Ryuu, times she’s been at Shidan’s house at dinner time and been fed a little of what everyone’s having, the team dinners that involve either pizza or barbeque being shipped in from across town, but –

That’s not this. That’s not – that’s not family stuff.

It’s like she has two left hands, both of them too dumb and clumsy to do anything but clutch at the napkin in her lap. She doesn’t trust herself to touch anything, not when she can feel them shaking in her lap, when the thorny prickle of tears sits in her throat.

“Hey.” Obi’s familiar warmth bumps into her side. “Would you like some pasta, Doc?”

It’s a relief to look at him, to see the warm smile on his face and concern in his eyes, and just nod.

He doesn’t say anything else, just grabs the serving bowl full of penne and starts rolling a few onto her plate.

“That fine, D--?” He hesitates, knuckles whitening on the serving spoon. With a quick glance up, he angles a little more toward her and corrects, “--Babe?”

He...really does not need to drop his voice like that, if he’s going to -- to call her that here. There’s a child, for goodness sake.

She glances quickly across the table, and there’s Todd, watching them with an expression far too smug for her liking.

“Um, yeah,” she manages, hoping everyone thinks her blush is from how warm the room is, and not -- not anything untoward. “Thanks, um...” She can feel Todd’s eyes on her, interested, and -- and what would Obi’s girlfriend call him --?

She panics. “...Sexy?”

The sauce ladle clanks noisily against her plate, but Obi catches the handle before it can topple over into her pasta.

“Good,” he coughs, setting it safely away from him. It’s always hard to tell with Obi, but she could swear there’s pink dusting over his cheekbones. “Glad to be of service.”

Shirayuki ducks her head, trying to focus on the food in front of her. If she’s cutting her meatballs into precise quarters, she can’t be -- be blushing over Obi, and as long as there’s food in her mouth she doesn’t have to talk or look at anyone --

Laila clears her throat, pointed. “Aren’t we gonna do grace?”

Shirayuki jolts, dropping her fork to her plate, and – and there’s not a single adult at the table who isn’t wearing an identical grimace of guilt. There’s forkfuls of pasta already en route to mouths, drinks raised to lips, hands tearing off bits of steaming garlic bread. Even Bob is trying to subtly swallow a mouthful of meatball, which at least makes the penne hanging out of Obi’s mouth less of a transgression.

All eyes shift, looking towards the authority at the table, and Gayle sighs.

“Now, honey,” she says, smoothing her napkin over her lap. “You know that when we have guests, we don’t make anyone say it.”

“But I wanna do it,” Laila whines, shrinking in her seat.

Kelly Ann sighs. “Laila --”

“I don’t mind,” Shirayuki offers, setting her fork aside, trying not to drip sauce onto the tablecloth. “Please don’t feel like you can’t on my account.”

“Me either.” Obi grins down at Laila, giving her a wink. “Take it away, kid.”

Their only warning is the cock-eyed grin she gives, before she launches into, “Good food, good meat, good God let’s eat!”

“Laila --”

“AMEN,” she tacks on, shoving a meatball straight into her mouth and grinning at her mother.

Kelly Ann is fit to be tied, hands on her hips, cheeks blown out with all the scolding she’s fit between them –

Bob breaks first.

His shoulder shake, his eyes screw shut, and for a good second Shirayuki’s afraid he’ll fly apart like a motor under too much strain, until –

Until his laugh bursts out of him, so hard he’s hitting his hand against the table, like he needs to tap out.

“Dad,” Kelly Ann gasps, scandalized, but it’s too late, now that Bob’s broken the seal, none of them can keep it in.

Shirayuki has to bury her face behind a napkin, trying to cover up the tears running out of her eyes, trying to avoid the glares Kelly Ann is trying to send all of them.

“That’s a good one,” Obi tells Laila, and then shoves in his own mouthful.

Kelly Ann glares. “Don’t encourage her.”

Obi shrugs, shooting her a bolder grin than Shirayuki would dare.

“So,” Todd interjects, stabbing his pasta with a bit more force than necessary. “How’d you two meet? I haven’t heard the story.”

Obi has never looked happier to have his mouth full. Shirayuki sighs. “We met sophomore year. I transferred in a month into the first semester. Obi and I shared a coffee shop.”

Because he was following me, is the part of the story she leaves out.

“Transferring a month in?” Todd takes a drink. “Sounds like a story.”

Her fingers ache where the edge of the fork digs into them. “I --”

She doesn’t know how to do this, how to make black fingernails and Rohypnol and weeks of fruitless litigation into dinner-talk, into a nice little package that somehow leads to – to this. To a long term boyfriend and romantic moments and family dinners.

Especially since it didn’t.

It’s easy to leave out the worst parts of things between her and Obi, to leave out what remains of Zen in those first few years, but she doesn’t know how to invent something wholesale that isn’t just…a complete lie.

Because that’s important, somehow. That she doesn’t lie. That even with all the pretending, Obi’s family knows her.

And they can’t do that, not if she makes up some story about -- about switching majors, or moving closer to home, or whatever reason someone could have that isn’t potential sexual assault.

But she doesn’t have to.

“It is,” Obi says, with the sort of finality that says the topic is done.

She’d expect Todd to pick, to pry, but his gaze shift to her, assessing, and instead says, “So y’all live in Florida?”

“For now,” Obi says, letting her pick at her meal. “We’re doing our PhD down there, but I think the eventual plan is Boston.”

-- It’s just disappointing. Zen sighs, and she knows she deserves it, deserves his frustration. It just feels like you aren’t even planning on coming back, sometimes --

She nearly bites her tongue. “I mean, maybe. That’s – a good place to start looking.”

Obi’s head snaps toward her, a question in his eyes, but she looks down, finding her side salad engrossing.

“You live close by to each other?” Todd asks, so innocent.

“Oh, we – we share an apartment,” she says, not even thinking. Todd’s eyes take on a triumphant gleam, and she knows she’s given him exactly what he wanted.

His gaze darts to Gayle. “Oh, so you live together?”

Obi’s mouth pulls flat, but with a look at Laila, he keeps it shut.

“Did you hear that?” Todd presses, when Gayle doesn’t even blink. “Obi and Shirayuki live together.”

“Todd,” she says, turning the most unimpressed, motherly look on him. “Of course they do! You know expensive rent is.” She turns a bright smile to the both of them, radiating approval. “And I must say, they keep the place looking lovely. Don’t they, Bob?”

“Well, we didn’t get the grand tour,” Bob allows, reaching for the garlic bread, “but they got quite a cozy nest for themselves, from what I’ve seen.”

“Doc’s got a gift,” Obi tells them, sending her a wink. “If it was me, the whole place would be in black.”

Gayle rolls her eyes heavenward. “Don’t we know it.”

That sends a laugh around the table -- all except Todd, who throws himself against the back of his chair, arms folded, and lets out an annoyed huff.

“What about you, Toddy?” Obi’s grin takes on a sharp slant. “Bringing home anyone special, lately?”

Shirayuki’s half-afraid dinner is about to come to blows -- by his look, Todd does not have a special someone, and Obi clearly knew better than to ask -- but she’s saved by a timely buzz against her stomach.

“My phone!” she gasps, pulling it out from the pocket of her hoodie. “I’m so sorry! I forgot to turn it off.”

Gayle smiles. “Happens to everyone, baby girl.”

It’s not fair that -- that Obi’s family knows how to do this to her, how to make her feel warm, melty, like she’s really one of them --

She looks down, if only to blink away the sting in her eyes, and she sees big blue one staring up at her.

“Oh!” She smiles, flashing the screen at Obi. “It’s Ryuu. He just was asking if we were going to call tonight. Kirito is driving him crazy, I think.”

Obi coughs out a laugh. “Poor kid. We did warn him.”

“Ryuu?” Gayle prompts.

“He’s someone else in our program,” she says, at the same time Obi offers proudly, “He’s a kid prodigy.”

Shirayuki glances up at him. She’d been playing it safe, not giving any information Obi doesn’t offer, if she doesn’t have to, but --

But one look at him, at the pride radiating from his face, and she knows -- Ryuu isn’t someone he has to hide. That he wants to hide.

“He’s sixteen now, and starting his PhD with us,” she explains. “He was our TA, my first year at Clarines.”

“He’s not great with people,” Obi offers, “but we’re getting there with the whole…being a regular kid thing. Our boss has a nephew his age, and that’s sort of…made him normal out, a bit. You know, get used to other kids/”

“He’s a really sweet boy,” Shirayuki tells them, aware she might be -- be gushing, just a bit. “He likes to snapchat flowers to me when he’s doing fieldwork. Here, I saved a couple.”

She hands her phone down the table, and Obi pulls out his own.

“Hold up, I think I got a few of his videos too.” He flicks through his phone, engrossed. “Kirito -- his friend -- has been teaching him how to skateboard, and they’ve been recording some of it -- ah, here it is.”

He sets his phone in front of her too, eager and -- and Gayle just looks at them, eyes shining.

“Well,” she says, soft. “Doesn’t that sound nice.”

Bob reaches over, squeezing her hand. She springs to life at that, patting at her pockets.

“Let me just find my glasses,” she tells them, smile so wide it nearly splits her face. “And I’ll get a look at your boy.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #Merry & Bright #merry and bright #The Wide Florida Bay #my fic #ans #MERRY CHRISTMAS FRIENDS #welcome to Obi and Shirayuki thinking that they have to SELL this relationship #when it would honestly be harder to convince everyone they WEREN'T dating #like lbr #if they came clean to Gayle #she would be like #children....are you SURE #like...really sure?#have you TALKED about this?#because let me tell you what my eyes have seen honey children

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arcanasass · 5 years

Text

Answer 21, Tag 21

‘tagged by @apprenticeofcups (i’m gonna cry i’m so happy to have been tagged)

strap in y’all

1. Nicknames: jules mostly. tommy to a couple of coworkers bc of the name on my lab jacket.

2. Zodiac Sign: Pisces

3. Height: 5′2″

4. Hogwarts 🏠: Slytherin til I die bby

5. Last Thing I Googled: “broadway merchandise” (i’m seeing a show on Sunday and wanted to know if I should save money for merch!)

6. Favourite Musicians: mostly broadway, Ben Platt, The Regrettes, Wallows, Marina, Alexander Jean

7. Song Stuck in My Head: the soundbite of the ponyo song that’s becoming a meme on tiktok

8. Following Now: 94

9. Followers: 18 and I’m still in awe

10. Do I Get Asks?: nope, but anyone’s welcome so long as they aren’t rude!

11. Amount of 💤?: i got about 5 hours last night, but i usually get 7-8 on good nights

12. Lucky Number: 23

13. What I’m Wearing: red pj pants with llamas, gray knit sweater, and hair down because i keep it up all day at work

14. Dream Job: costume designer for broadway, writer and poet, or artist living in the south of france.

15. Dream Trip: everywhere, whenever i want. a trip to iceland in the dead of winter to see the lights and snow and the pure delight and terror of the bitter snow. egypt in the winter, when it’s comfortably warm and not a lot of families around so i can go to all of the sights and live like a (very meager) adventurer. strolling through paris and nice, getting ready for a dinner at the tour d’eiffel

16. Favourite Food: mac and cheese, chai tea latte, seven layer dip.

17. Instruments: i unfortunately play none, but as a child i learned the flute, guitar, and violin.

18. Languages: English, French, and I’ve been wanting to pick up a third language and haven’t decided on it.

19. Favourite Song: oh god so many. “Scrawny” by Wallows. “Come Through” by The Regrettes are at the top for me rn in terms of normal music. I’ve been listening to a lot of Dogfight and Daddy Long Legs in terms of musicals.

20. Random Fact: I won a superlative my senior year of high school and almost won prom queen even though I was convinced no one knew who I was.

21. Aesthetic: i don’t have the skills or time to put together a photo collage, but it’s somewhere between “Chilled out Blair Waldorf in 2019″, “artsy mom friend” and “buys a princess gown to run around giant gardens like a vision”

Tag 21 People (I’m so sorry if you’ve already been tagged or don’t want to participate! Please ignore!)

@sketching-jess @swagfirellama @indelwen-of-mirkwood @astravas @spongieq-arcana @julians-chest-hair

#tags #tag trend #not arcana

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siderealscribblings · 6 years

Note

How about some McSombra, if youre man enough

Jesse stretched his hand out to stop the glass from sliding across the bar, eyebrow raising as the sloshing purple liquid washed some of the salt off the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t order this,” Jesse said.

“Lady in the corner sent it over,” the bartender said, head jerking over towards the booth tucked away in the smoky corner. Jesse lifted his head up, squinting through the haze as a figure in a deep purple sundress waved at him from over the rim of a similarly eggplant colored cocktail.

“Send it back,” Jesse said, sliding the drink back towards the bartender. In the mirror behind the rows of liquor bottles, he could see the bartender walking back towards the booth, loosening the clasp that held his revolver in place in case things took a turn for the ugly. There wasn’t any sign of Lacroix or Reyes; just a small handful of oil-rig workers watching the hockey game at the end of the bar.

The clinking of glasses drew Jesse’s attention back to the bartender who was struggling to place a tray of twelve identical purple prickly-pear margaritas in front of him.

“The, uh...lady in the corner insisted I give these to you,” the bartender said a little sheepishly, recoiling a little as Jesse stood up with a crack of his neck, draining the last of his Buffalo Trace and sauntering over to the booth in the corner.

“Take it the next round is on me?” Jesse said, sliding into the worn leather booth as the woman looked over a pair of dark, purple rimmed shades. “Saw you when I walked in, by the way; that getup isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“If I wanted to be inconspicuous, you wouldn’t have seen me,” Sombra said, sipping her margarita through a thin cocktail straw as the eyed the platter of drinks on the counter. “Are you not even going to drink those? Those were fifteen dollars a piece!”

“I’m sure Talon can afford it,” Jesse shrugged, draping one arm over the back of his booth while resting the other on the butt of his pistol under the table. “Y’all ain’t exactly hurting for change these days, are you?”

“You of all people know how anal Reyes gets over expense reports,” Sombra said, glancing at her phone for a moment. “You know we have to account for every individual bullet?”

“Why d’you think I started using a six-shooter? Math’s a helluva lot easier.”

“Lot cheaper than wearing a bandolier of shotguns as well,” Sombra muttered, taking a long sip of her drink. “Maybe you can convince him to give reloading a chance.”

“Answer’s still no,” Jesse said, steel slipping into his voice.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask,” Sombra protested.

“Probably not, but I can make a good guess,” Jesse said with a wry smile. “Y’all can’t be that hard up for new recruits that you gotta be barking after an old bull like me.”

“It’s the old bull that gets all the cows, does he not?” Sombra said, chewing on the end of her sunglasses as she regarded him. “Reyes does have a thing for nostalgia.”

“Don’t tell me Reaper is getting dewy-eyed remembering the good old days,” Jesse snorted. “Weren’t no good old days in Blackwatch.”

“Good old days are in short supply everywhere,” Sombra said, leaning in on her palms. “Still, you two were quite the team, weren’t you? Gunslingers like yourself are in short supply.”

“And I should use my gun for Talon, hm?” Jesse said. “Why? Generous benefits package?”

“We actually do have a pretty robust health insurance policy,” Sombra said.

“Any health insurance policy that Dr. O'Deorain signed off on is not one I want to be covered by,” Jesse chuckled. “You know your people are out of their fucking gourds, right?”

“And Overwatch has such shining beacons of mental health?” Sombra said, glancing at her phone. “I’ve got your friends’ psych-evals and it would be faster to tell you who doesn’t have extreme cases of PTSD, survivor’s guilt, and trauma induced fetishes.”

“Pardon?”

“Let’s just I can hack through any security system from my phone and that Dr. Ling-Zhou’s interest in ice goes beyond the purely professional,” Sombra said, smirk spreading across her lips.

“Huh...not entirely sure what to do with that information.”

“I could suggest a few things,” Sombra said, toe of her sandaled foot brushing the front of Jesse’s shin, startling him into nearly firing his pistol.

“I’m sure you could,” Jesse said, trying not to look like the sensation of the top of her sandaled foot had any effect on him at all. “But ice kinks and battle scars are still a sight prettier than most of the people y’all got on payroll.”

Sombra’s eyebrow raised. “Does that mean you think there are a few that are a sight prettier than your current comrades?”

“Cut the shit; I’m not throwing my hat in with a bunch of fucking terrorists,” Jesse snapped.

“According to Vishkar, your froggy little friend is a terrorist,” Sombra shrugged. “Terrorism is a point of view, Jesse.”

“One I don’t agree with,” Jesse replied. “And you know as well as I do that the shit Lucio did isn’t even on the same level as the stunts Talon’s pulled. You know he only did what he had to do to survive.”

“As do we all,” Sombra said, eyes dilating for the briefest second as though she realized she had let out more than she wanted to.

“S’that supposed to mean?” Jesse asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to work for terrorists?” Sombra asked, folding her arms across the smooth fabric of her dress. “Tough mierda; we all work for terrorists. Every gang, army, or corporation is a terrorist to somebody. It’s all the same; people using other people to get rich or get powerful. Overwatch is just Talon with a good PR department.”

The sudden outburst of emotion was a stark contrast to her blithe, flirty personality and nearly bowled Jesse out of his seat.

“Some part of you has to know that,” Sombra said, shaking her head.

“So, what, Talon is for the little guy now?” Jesse asked, shaking his head. “You expect me to believe you’re some kind of freedom fighters trying to save the world?”

Sombra’s smile took on a toothy quality. “When did I ever say that I was here on Talon’s behalf?”

Jesse frowned, opening his mouth as he mentally scanned their conversation.

“Ogundimu has his plans; I have mine,” Sombra said, downing the rest of her drink in one gulp that left purple lipstick smeared on the rim. “I’m not asking you to leave Overwatch and I’m sure as hell not asking you to join Talon.”

Her hand slid across the table, palm up as she stared at him.

“I’m asking for you to join me,” Sombra said.

“And I want to do that because…” Jesse watched Sombra stand up, finger tensing on the finger of Peacemaker’s trigger as she saddled up beside him in the booth. Before he could ask what she thought she was doing, she planted herself in his lap, cupped her hand around his ear, and started to whisper.

Jesse’s eyes widened with each word, stunned by both the feel of her warm tequila scented breath on his cheek and the bombshell she had just dropped on him. He didn’t have time to process either before she stood up, walked back around the table, as the bartender brought the tray of drinks over.

“Look man, are you gonna drink these or-” Jesse immediately grabbed one margarita and downed it in one, fluid gulp, piling the rest of the drinks on the table between them.

“...what the fuck?!” Jesse breathed as soon as the bartender stepped away. “You’re seriously telling me that-”

Jesse trailed off as Sombra pressed her fingers against his lips.

“Not here,” Sombra said. “I can’t explain anything more right now, but this goes deeper than Reyes and Morrison’s pissing contest.”

“Yeah, I’ll fucking say,” Jesse mumbled, reaching for another drink. “Jesus…how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I have proof...but not here,” Sombra said, slipping a piece of paper across the table. “Room 1224. I need to take care of some loose ends but I can meet you there in an hour.”

“I swear to god, if this is some half-assed scheme to invite me back to your hotel room…”

“If I wanted to sleep with you, I would have asked,” Sombra said, lips twitching a little. “I might still.”

“Why?” Jesse asked, shaking his head. “Why me?”

“Because I’ve tapped into the security camera in your room and wouldn’t mind finding out if you’re as noisy with a partner as you are solo?”

“No...okay, we’ll circle back around to that but,” Jesse ran his hand through his hair. “Of all the people...why me? Why not Hana or Lucio or, fuck, if you need muscle why not Zarya?”

Sombra cocked her head to one side, regarding him thoughtfully.

“You’re a bad soldier,” she said finally. “Song, Morrison, even Ziggler; they’re all good soldiers. Good soldiers make for bad revolutionaries. And our little revolution is in need of bad, bad soldiers.”

Sombra reached out a hand again. “Interested?”

Breathing out through his nose, Jesse plucked a watery margarita off the tray, downed it in one gulp, and pressed his hand into hers.

“Fuck it,” Jesse spat. “Overwatch was getting too crazy for my blood anyway. You know we got a hamster now?”

“I know; I tried to flip him before we met,” Sombra said with a wry smile.

“Wait...I was second in line after the fucking hamster?!”

#mcsombra #my writing #renegade mcsombra #this was fun to write #bitchcitrus

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pinknerdpanda · 7 years

Text

The Wedding Singer - Track 3

“Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?”

Characters: Jo, Reader, Lisa (mentioned), Dean, Sam, Jess, Ellen (mentioned), Chuck

Word Count: 1,875

Series Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Mentions of Infidelity, Alcohol

A/N: This is the third chapter of an AU SPN Series co-written by myself and @hannahindie entitled The Wedding Singer and is inspired by the movie. We have been working on this for the last few months and are very excited to share it with you. The series tag list is open. If you would like to be added, please send one of us an ask. Hannah made our beautiful aesthetic and the series was Masterbeta’d by @wheresthekillswitch.

Track List

Track 3: “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?”

Y/n stood back to admire their handiwork. She’d lost count of how many dozens of strings of Christmas lights zigzagged overhead and the number of napkin swans she’d folded in the last hour, but it was finally finished and the scene was beautiful.

Twenty-five round tables were arranged neatly around the room; each one draped in white gauzy fabric that nearly touched the floor. The center of every table was adorned with an array of flickering tea lights, sparkly crystals, and tall, fragrant hydrangea bouquets all arranged neatly around beautifully framed 8 x 10 photos of the happy couple.

Three rectangular tables lined the front of the room with more white gauzy fabric and shorter versions of the hydrangea bouquets covering their surface. Fat, white, twine-wrapped candles cast a soft glow on the soft white petals of the flowers.

A small part of her heart ached as she surveyed the community center. Y/n felt as though she’d stepped right into a bridal magazine, but this wasn’t her fairytale, and lately she was beginning to wonder if she would ever get the chance to see her happily ever after.

“Great work, y/n!” Jo smiled warmly at her cousin before glancing down at her clipboard and reviewing every detail to make sure nothing had been missed. “I think we should have about 10 minutes before guests begin to arrive, and...oh no!” Jo’s voice rose in panic, making y/n jump.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lisa will kill me if I don’t put up the banners she added last minute!” Jo practically ran toward her office with y/n following close behind. Jo pulled a small, gold key from her pocket and unlocked the bottom drawer of her desk. She reached in and removed what appeared to be several banners made from burlap and canvas and thrust them into y/n’s waiting arms.

“Can you please hang these for me? The one that says ‘FOREVER’ needs to be stretched across the front of the bride and groom’s table. There are two that say ‘Lisa + Dean’ that you can just find spots for. Thank you y/n, you’re a lifesaver! I’m so glad to have you here!”

“Of course. I’m happy to help!”

Y/n smiled and hurried back to the reception hall. Just as she was hanging the last banner above the guestbook, Jo walked in, her face white as ash and her eyes glittered with tears.

“Jo, what happened? Is everything ok?”

“Sam just called me. Lisa never showed. Dean is absolutely devastated.” Jo shook her head and sniffed. “I’m just shocked. I want to wring that bitch’s neck.”

“That’s awful. Poor Dean. He seemed so happy, but I never met her.” Y/n chewed on her bottom lip as she glanced around. Her eyes grew wide. “What about all the decorations? And the food?”

“Sam said that Dean told everyone to come eat so the food doesn’t go to waste.”

“You don’t think people will actually still show up, do you?” Y/n screwed up her face.

“I know they will. So we still…” Jo’s words were cut off as the doors to the community center flung open and people began pouring in. Jo looked at her cousin and raised her eyebrows before plastering a smile on her face and turning to greet the guests.

The tables began to fill up and y/n set to work, pouring glasses of iced tea and water and pointing guests in the direction of the cash bar, where her Aunt Ellen was just beginning to set up and take drink orders.

Y/n looked up to see a very tall man in a sharp tuxedo striding toward Jo. He bent low, offering her a hug, before straightening up and pushing his long hair from his face. A strikingly beautiful woman with wavy blonde hair approached the two, also hugging Jo before winding her arm around the tall man’s waist. Y/n continued her way around the table, absently splashing water in the lap of a particularly snide woman as she eyed them and not feeling too badly about it. After a few more pointed nods, the handsome couple disappeared and y/n continued making her rounds until every glass was full.

The rumors of what had happened varied greatly from table to table, but y/n did her best to ignore them. She was surprised to find herself becoming more and more irritated every time she heard the whisper of Dean’s name over the light din of conversation at dinner.

Just as people were finishing up the last of their meals and y/n began clearing their plates, Chuck’s voice boomed through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention. She breathed a sigh of relief as the room grew quiet.

“Good evening everyone. Dean asked us to go ahead and come out tonight to play for you. Please remember that he’s a vital part of our community and he’s going through a difficult time. We need to support him and love him and one way we can all help is to not spread rumors about what happened today. Just keep that in mind as you all enjoy your evening.”

People glanced around the room guiltily at each other as y/n nodded enthusiastically. Dean was lucky to have such wonderful people around him. The awkward silence melted away as the band started playing.

Y/n noted that, while the band sounded great, Dean’s absence was definitely palpable. Few people in the crowd seemed to notice, however, as they made their way to the dance floor. As the tables were cleared and the crowd began to thin, y/n found herself making a conscious effort to keep her smile in place. The thought of Dean sitting alone, devastated and brokenhearted while these people enjoyed a party celebrating the life he and Lisa would now likely never have - it was enough to make her feel sick.

She caught Jo’s eye from across the room and motioned toward the back door. Jo nodded just as the upbeat music faded into a slow, dreamy ballad and y/n slipped out into the night air. The cool breeze felt like heaven against her flushed skin. As she took a few deep breaths, she chided herself for being so agitated. She hardly knew Dean, but her heart hurt for him.

After several minutes of enjoying the stillness and quiet, she decided it was about time to head back inside. Several couples swayed from side to side as the band played another sweet love song. Y/n busied herself collecting the used napkins and placing them into the laundry bin.

She hardly noticed the gentle murmur of voices, but as the music stopped suddenly and a loud buzz of feedback echoed throughout the room, she turned toward the sound. She was surprised to see Dean, microphone in one hand, flask in the other, wobbling unsteadily at the front of the stage. It was hard to make out many details from this distance, but she felt her heart rise to her throat as he stared silently into the shocked crowd.

“Well hello, fine citizens of Chapel Hill. How are y’all doin’ tonight? Better than I am, I s’ppose.” Dean’s words slurred together as his rich, deep voice boomed from the speakers. “Oh come on. Lighten up. Haven’t you ever seen a man get left at the altar before? No? First time?” The silence grew uncomfortable. “Well, I don’t want to keep y’ll from enjoying your lovely ev’nin’. But I’d like to propose a toast. To Lisa, that traitorous, lying, selfish bitch. May she rot in the depths of hell. Cheers.”

Dean raised his flask in the air, swaying slightly before bringing it to his lips. The alcohol ran down his chin, his adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. When he’d drained it, he spiked it on the floor like a football and thrust the microphone towards Chuck. The band quickly began playing, an obvious effort to shift the attention from the stumbling man weaving through the sea of people.

Before she had time to think about what she was doing, y/n ran toward Dean, reaching out a hand to steady him as he tripped over nothing. When he was standing upright again, he looked at her hand on his arm before rolling his gaze up to hers. Up close, y/n could see that his eyes were bloodshot, the skin underneath puffy and raw from crying.

Just as she opened her mouth, though unsure what to say, the tall man she’d seen earlier appeared, placing his hands on each of Dean’s shoulders and ducking his head to meet his gaze.

“Whoa, there, big guy. How about we get you home,” he said, his eyebrows creased with obvious worry for the shorter man. He glanced back toward the dance floor and y/n followed his eyeline. The pretty blonde woman she’d seen him with earlier watched awkwardly as she dodged the shimmies and shakes of the oblivious people around her.

“I don’t mind to drive him,” y/n blurted out, not sure why. It wasn’t like she was working or had responsibilities or anything.

The tall man glanced back at the woman and smiled gratefully back at y/n. “That would be great. Thank you. I’m Dean’s brother, Sam, by the way.” He grabbed a napkin off a nearby table and scribbled down his address and thanked her again before heading back toward the woman.

Y/n turned back to Dean. “Hey Dean. Remember me?”

He nodded and then scrunched his eyes shut as though the action made his head hurt.

“Good. Good. Listen, how did you get here?”

Dean shoved a hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels once before pulling out his keys and jingling them at her.

“What’da you say I give you a ride home, hm?” She tried smiling at him, but wasn’t sure she was convincing anyone. Before he could say no, she plucked the keys from his hand. His eyebrows furrowed and he gaped at her.

She waved at Jo again, who nodded and smiled gratefully at y/n, and then led Dean out to his sharp, black, muscle car. Y/n wasn’t much into cars, but she could tell this was a special one and she was excited to slide into the front seat.

Dean fumbled hopelessly at the doorknob, before y/n reached across and pulled the latch to open the door. Dean smiled humorlessly at her as he slowly lowered himself into the car. She backed slowly and carefully from the parking spot and glanced at him, slumped against the door. After putting the car in drive, she reached out and patted his hand in an attempt at reassurance. She was surprised when his hand opened and engulfed hers, as though he was a drowning man. The gesture made her heart ache for him and she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

Dean was asleep almost as soon as she hit the main drag and steered in the direction of the address Sam had given her.

She removed her hand from his and mumbled. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Winchester.”

Track 4 “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” by @hannahindie

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here and the lovely @hannahindie‘s can be found here. Thanks for reading! :)

Wedding Singer Tags: @nanie5 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tiffanycaruso @faegal04 @bethbabybaby @aesthsuggestion @escabell @lavieenlex @letmusicguideu @charliebradbury1104 @ericaprice2008 @kathaswings @feelmyroarrrr @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @journeyrose @kudosia @spnfangirl1965 @pickupthatamulet @faithfullpanicmoon

My Forever Tags (Stay Weird - I love ya’ll!): @wheresthekillswitch @pretty-fortune @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @deansdirtyduchess @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67 @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @almusanzug @feelmyroarrrr @captainradicalpassion @bethbabybaby @thinkwritexpress-official @akshi8278 @hexparker @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m @easelweasel @masksandtruths @ellen-reincarnated1967 @growningupgeek @there-must-be-a-lock @sylverminx @mrswhozeewhatsis @amanda-teaches @cassieraider @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

#the wedding singer series #dean winchester au #supernatural au #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #SPN fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #HanPan Strikes Again

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supergirlimaginesfic-blog · 7 years

Text

Dating Lena Luthor (a crush on you would include)

Request: Can you please do a lena luthor having a crush on you would include

a/n: I mean listen I’m fully aware having a crush on you implies not dating just yet, but I have a very inconsequential title system I feel compelled to stick with now sooo, just disregard that little oopsie LOL

these are always super fun to do!! tbh I’m in a little bit of a funk right now so these types of posts help me get my imagination going again. Thank you so much for reading y’all! And thanks for your patience if you’ve been waiting for a request to be filled... I am definitely a person who loses track of time lol. I’m so happy I have a hobby I can kinda speak for now though, and that’s all thanks to you folks! Have an awesome day everybody!! :D

- - - - -

much to your surprise (or perhaps not at all, if you were really to think about it properly), Lena is a very tenacious person and as such, there are some things that get her attention and she just has to chase it

you’ve come to realize that so it’s turned out, you are in fact one of those things that have piqued her attention, and you’ve been a happy mixture of flattered, confused, and bashful

Lena, in her not so subtle interest in you, still refuses to say anything specific regarding her feelings, and instead you find your answers in the things she does and in the roundabout way of sneaky compliments she gives you and her well-timed flirting

it didn’t take much for you to figure out she liked you, but it also took quite a lot to convince you that you weren’t just projecting your wishes into some unfounded fantasy - most of the Superfriends (even Winn, especially Winn) could see through both of your behaviours, and they’re all both parts exasperated and absolutely amused by your song and dance of total avoidance

but really, who could blame you that you didn’t quite believe your luck that Lena Luthor, the absolutely brilliant, wonderful, incredible woman you have the honour of knowing would possibly reciprocate your feelings? It was a marvel, indeed - you won’t question a miracle when you recognize one

Lena having a crush on you involves a lot of games, and the biggest one particularly is waiting to see which one of you breaks and admits your feelings first - it’s more fun than it is exhausting, and you suppose Lena thinks the same way, if the way she smiles at you meaningfully sometimes like she has a secret is any indication

there are a multitude of changes both major and trivial that you’ve started to take notice of the more time you spent around Lena. For one, you’ve become a more familiar face in the office and Jess, her secretary, smiles at you more often in your slightly embarrassing frequency of dropping by unannounced

you realize it’s just slightly unnerving that Jess is friendly enough to you that you now have a casual rapport with her enough to have playful small talk

you know that when you see Jess smirk whenever she hears the tell-tale opening of the elevator indicating your arrival that she’s in a particularly talkative mood, and you have to brace yourself for whatever trouble she’ll cause this time

“you know you don’t have to check in every single time you get here. Ms. Luthor’s given you total clearance, but I’m flattered you think to grace me with that remarkable face of yours” “well, it’d be a bit rude of me to just walk past wouldn’t it? Besides, who else is going to feed your caffeine addiction, neither of you know how to take care of yourselves” “look at you, charming and well-mannered - Ms. Luthor definitely knows how to pick them”

you know almost for a certain fact that you blush more whenever Jess makes remarks like that than when Lena outright flirts with you, but you suspect it must be because you’re just that transparent and you should probably really tone down your puppy-like eagerness when it comes to seeing Lena

you also have the ever increasing suspicion that Jess and Lena are on some mission to make you blush as much as possible - in all honesty, there is more proof of the affirmative than not and you’re positive they have schemed to embarrass you in good nature to some capacity

Lena’s become more comfortable with her terms of endearment, and you’ve nearly forgotten your own name and have begun to think your name is “darling”, or “sweetheart”, or some variation of it

you will never admit that you respond to it with unfailing attention

Alex nearly passed out from laughing so much when Kara and Maggie were discussing home remedies during one game night and you answered in distraction when one of them mentioned “honey”

you drowned yourself in whatever drink of choice was closest to you and Lena eyed you with that dangerous look of hers that was all parts mischief, teasing, and some deeply attractive want that you didn’t want to name just yet

you spend a good portion of your time dragging Lena out of her office and also bringing the food to her - you’ve been vocally adamant about not leaving her office until you watch her consume something, and Lena, you realize, has become more susceptible to taking her sweet time just for you to stick around longer... and you entertain that

for all of her talk about distractions and not being able to afford any missteps or mistakes, the soft smile she gives you whenever she sees you, outside of work or not, is more than enough to make your heart flutter with happiness

hanging out with Lena, surprisingly, is a lot of spontaneous, unplanned excursions that you both are more than happy to indulge

you’re pleased that you both share an equal appreciation of the godly gift that is coffee, and as such, you often find yourselves in some hole-in-the-wall cafe and bookshop, sitting side by side pressed against each other on the floor of the astronomy section or in the humour section

a lot of your time together consists of stupid jokes and also riveting discussions of the human condition and of life

you have far too much fun exasperating Lena, but you know secretly it’s because of the fond smile she gives you despite rolling her eyes and groaning at your lame jokes

“hey Lena, where do dogs go when their tails fall off?” “I don’t know, (Y/N), where do they go?” “the retail store”

“Lena, how is imitation very much like a plateau?” “I’ve no clue, but I suppose you’re going to tell me aren’t you-” “they’re both the highest form of flattery”

Lena Luthor inspires a childlike wonder in you, something you’d thought you lost as you got older - you spend a lot of time convincing her to do vaguely reckless things like climbing fire escapes or sneaking onto roofs

somehow, you’ve managed to get her to spontaneously break out into song and dance with you in public, and you wonder just how it is you’ve coerced Lena into making a total fool of herself with you

she entertains your inclinations; perhaps it’s because you’re an enabler, perhaps it’s because she enjoys it, perhaps it’s because you let her do things she’s mostly tentative to do, or maybe it’s in solidarity and to not abandon you in your silliness - regardless of what it is, Lena always joins you in your antics

you don’t say it, neither of you have, but there’s a mutual understanding of comfort and vulnerability you know is shared and you know you can be safe in

Lena is playful with you, often stealing your hats when you’re out and she puts them on herself, or taking your sweaters when you’re just at home and she wants something comfy to wear - you never deny her the little things... she looks much better in your clothes anyway

as good as she looks in your band shirts and oversized hoodies, she looks just as magnificent in her dresses and gowns that she wears whenever she takes you to one of her events

quite long ago, you’ve stopped calling it dragging you to these galas and instead just took it for what it was: more time to be around Lena

for as much as you think she looks great in literally anything and for how irresistible she finds you and has explicitly mentioned of your usual, casual street look, she is adorably speechless whenever you show up to accompany her in your formal attire - you’re as equally blown away every time you see her, and you think she looks like magic

at some point you’ve stopped wondering about the platonic-or-not nature of her holding onto your arm and introducing you to everyone she encounters at these events, and instead have opted to consider how natural it feels when she’s pressed up against you like this

most of these nights involve a lot of socialization and champagne, and you know that Lena is never intoxicated to the point of forgetfulness at these events, but still, when the evening is done and you spend the night at either of your places, there’s always a softer vulnerability and a palpable disregard of inhibition that neither of you call out but know very well is a tension that pulls you together

you’ve lost track of specifically when, but you find yourself entangled in her when you fall asleep, sometimes on her couch, sometimes in her bed and you wake up and try to respect boundaries, but she just brings you closer anyway whenever you try and who are you to deny her sleepy, mumbling wishes?

for your own sake, you try to ignore the happy sigh she makes whenever she rouses from sleep and nuzzles closer to you, but it’s more effort to deny the inevitably of falling for her when she just makes it so easy to feel relaxed and unreserved

you’ve always figured that Lena Luthor was trouble, and you never realized the extent of that truth until you started writing again and she made a damn poet out of you

the woman makes you soft; she always has, and you’ve stopped fighting that reality and instead opted to perpetuate it

she half-heartedly chastises you whenever you sneak a picture of her on your phone or on one of your cameras, but she always smiles bashfully whenever you show her and you can both see, clear as day, the evidence definitive and candid, how happy she is

there’s far too many close-calls in the form of emotional freefall - that is, if you’d kept a tally of who was close to kissing the other first, you’d be at a loss of knowing who was more culpable (you’re becoming impatient, and this once, you think to concede this particular battle)

it’s a fair fight; Lena’s had to catch herself more than once whenever you leave her office and she, distractedly, almost kisses you. You almost kiss her one night in the middle of your dancing in the kitchen foolishness and you forget for a moment she’s not actually yours to kiss - you think you saw in her eyes something that wordlessly said the contrary, and you almost believe it was worth finally crossing the line for

your friends are tired of your shit, frankly, and they’ve convinced you perhaps that Lena is too. Alex never fails to lament that it’s absolutely rich if you don’t think you’re already dating, to which Lucy also helpfully supplies, don’t make any moves just yet I’ve got stakes in a bet that says Lena will make the first move, and even Kara’s got a piece to say, which is of course worlds more comforting than Alex, Lucy, and Maggie’s bickering when she tells you that Lena is happier with you, and I think she’s more than fine with whatever pace you’re willing to take

you are never one to keep a woman waiting, however, and you think it’s time to steel up and get your shit together

you’ve planned an exceedingly romantic evening, the works for someone who deserves that and so much more - dinner in a quiet restaurant, candlelight and flowers, all thanks to some connections your friends have pulled together

Lena shows up then and you’re floored by how radiant she looks always. She’s become the person in your life who has to remind you to breathe, and simultaneously gives you reason to live and to experience, and you’re finally set in your belief that she deserves to hear your truth

you finally admit to her and say out loud everything you’ve kept quiet and hidden all this time, and though you’re relieved, you’re also wide-eyed and admittedly petrified when Lena says nothing and is equally as wide-eyed as you are

“please don’t get me wrong when I say I’m shocked, this is just a little bit of a turn for me and I’m frankly a bit embarrassed-” “no, Lena, don’t apologize- I don’t ever want to pressure you into something you’re not willing to partake in and I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable-” “(Y/N), it’s not that... not at all. It’s just- I’d kind of already presumed we were dating...” “what? But- how long? Really?” “I suppose I’m partially to blame for not explicitly addressing our circumstance either-” “are you saying I could have kissed you all this time?” “well, I am most certainly not opposed to the suggestion, I merely thought you just weren’t ready-”

if you were asked to retell the story, you wouldn’t mention how close you were to knocking into the table in your haste to finally kiss Lena, and frankly though you feel a little bit robbed by your own hesitations, you finally feel a long-desired sensation of profound relief, a weight of uncertainty lifted from your chest

even still, it hadn’t felt official - at least, not until you and Lena walked into L-Corp one morning holding hands and Jess, hardly looking away from her computer screen, merely muttered something that sounded suspiciously like oh my god, finally, and you nearly tripped on your own foot at her off-handed observation

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