#I miss watching the episodes live I can’t wait to hopefully this week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

Man if you ever feel like writing it I'd love to read about a Rhett and Brawler bar fight and poor Bob getting more grey hair because fuck one's bad but the two of them together?? He's gonna need back up 🤣

But absolutely no pressure I just love Brawler!

Everyone and their mother is on the Nosebleed Section kick. Well. I am here for it.

Oh it would so happen back in Wyoming. You’d convinced Bob to go home with you for a few weeks with Jake in tow—wanting to introduce him to the family.

The Amelia county fair would be in full swing and Rhett would be third on the leaderboard before his second ride. Jakes in such awe as he watches you and Rhett talk about the sport he knows nothing about.

“If it makes you feel any better it sounds like a whole nother language to me—“ Bobs chuckling beside Jake, handing him a beer he got from the kiosk before taking a sip of the lemon lime and bitters he got himself. “She misses it, I know she does.”

“What ever happened?” Jake sees it as a good a time as any to ask, but Bobs pressing his lips together like it ain’t his place to tell Jake about your traumas.

“She doesn’t talk about it, none of us do.” If Bob was being honest with himself? The entire family just pretended like it never happened, like you didn’t nearly die and that it wasn’t partly Rhett’s fault. “But she’ll tell you, one day.” He ends it with that, leaving it up to you to hopefully one day let Jake Seresin In enough to trust him with your deepest fears, your deepest secrets.

“You’re not tucking your knees in enough.” Jake here’s you in earshot and decides to take a leap and join the conversation happening as you and Rhett lean on the fence, watching as amateur riders get their shit rocked. “It’s what’s costing you, Rhett—tuck your knees in more and don’t let go for nothing.”

“You should get back on the Bronc Brawler, I can see the eager look in your eye.” Rhett doesn’t even turn his head. “Camp Draft was always your throne.”

“Traded my spurs for G forces a long time ago Rhett, you know I can’t ride again.” There’s a lingering sadness in your voice as Jake slings his arm over your shoulder casually, not interrupting the conversation as he kisses your cheek. “Besides, you know if I was still riding, I’d be on the top of that leaderboard.” Rhett knows you harbor a sadness with you as you say it. He can still hear your screams from the near 400 pound bull that crushed your teenage self. He’d been riffing on you all afternoon, egging you on until he took it too far, told you that if you were as good as you thought you were you’d ride without armor.

Being the stubborn bastard that you are and wanting to show your big brother that you were just as good as him, maybe even better—you did just that. You damn near nearly died. Rhett looked at you for a moment as you held his smirk, chucking as he flicked your Stetson off the top of your head.

“I know you would be Brawler, I know you would be.”

There’s a thill that the rodeo just brings you that Jake hoped to one day understand. He fell in love with you a little more every minute he got to experience you in all your glory, cheering on Rhett and screaming your heart out. Jake even saw a side to Robert Floyd he never thought he’d see. The side that wore a Stetson and daggy flannel. It felt like he was in an episode of the twilight zone.

“Little Y/n Abbott, as I live and breathe.” Fuck you knew that voice anywhere. “Haven’t seen you around for a few years darlin what brings you back?” Trevor Tillerson, there wasn't a bone in your body that didn’t hope one day he’d end up dead. You just prayed that you wouldn’t be behind the fatal punch.

“Jake, this is Trevor Tillerson, his dad Wayne owns the neighboring ranch.” You explained as you sat on Jake's lap, shifting slightly as you cleared your throat. “Trevor, this is Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

“Ah, Army? Air Force?.” Trevor smirked wildly as he looked over his shoulder to where Bob stood with Perry. Both waiting for Rhett to come out of the shoot after his last ride.

“Naval Aviation—“ Jake says it with pride. “Bobs a mate from work.”

“And Brawlers?” Trevor questions the ins and outs of your relationship like he’s reading the gossip column of a dolly magazine. “Let me guess, Y/n, you’ve changed up riding techniques, riding aviators instead of riding bulls.”

“You say it like I don’t visit you in your wet dreams Tillerson.” You hissed, standing from the comfort of Jake's embrace to hold your own with Trevor. You’d never gotten along, not since that one time he’d shoved your face in the mud in third grade. “Rack off, I’m tryin to enjoy my day, I don’t need you fucking my view up.” Like clockwork, like he’d done a million times before and would do a million times more, Jake Seresin sighed as he stood up next to you—reading the terrain, examining the situation playing out before he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder. Keeping you level headed.

“I don’t think he’s really worth the bloody knuckles.” Jake was quick to mumble in your ear as he kept a spiteful gaze locked on Trevor. You’d never mentioned him, but when again—you didn’t do an awful lot of talking about your life outside North Island. “Come on, why don’t we go get a hotdog and fuck around at the games?”

“Beats the alternative.” Again, your gaze stayed locked on Trevor as he bit back a wicked smirk. Unbeknownst to you, Trevor had bet Billy fifty bucks he could still get a rise out of you even after all these years. It was no secret to the people of Wabang that you were a hot head hitter. The town was first name basis in the bank, the post office, the bar, the grocery store, the park. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t know Y/n ‘Brawler’ Abbott was just a fucking easy to light as a stick of dynamite. “Good to see you again, Tillerson, keen for the reunion in another five.” You scoff. Pushing past Trevor as your shoulder connected with his. “Maybe by then you’ve shaken the rocks from your head.”

“I may have rocks in my head but at least I’m not being held together by pins, rods and metal plates.” Trevor hissed, he hadn’t even turned to face you and he already knew he had you right where he wanted you. “The idea is to stay on the Bull, Abbott—not get fucking trampled by it.”

Y/n—“ Jake feels you stiffen beside him, he sees you stop in your tracks in his peripheral vision. “He’s not worth it.”

“Shut up Jake.” You hiss, not meaning it as he tries to reach for your wrist, trying to hold you back but he knows better than to get in the way of you when you’ve got that tunnel vision. “He knows what he’s doing.” You’re making strides towards Trevor, he knew it was like a right of passage to fuck around with you. Talk shit get hit is what the kids used to taunt. But you were both grown now—and yet here you were, brawling at the county fair like teenagers.

“You fucking cunt—“ It’s the last thing Trevor truly remembers before your gripping at his shoulder and swinging a vile right hook into his cheek. The crack is loud and echoes through the stand as he stumbles back slightly. Spitting blood over his shoulder before he’s tackling you into the dirt, pinning your hands above your head so he could slam his forehead down on yours.

“Fuck—“ Rhett sees the commotion as he’s stepping out of the shoot. “Bob! Fucking go get her will ya?” Rhett's climbing down the stairs as fast as he can as Bob and Perry turn to see the fight that's broken out. Bob's eyes go wide at the sight of you underneath Trevor Tillerson, his blood boils.

“Is that Trevor?”

“Kids had a wicked crush on that girl since pre-k.” Pretty snickers to himself. “C’mon Flyboy, let's go.” Perry and Bob are jogging over just in time to see you get the wind knocked out of you when Trevor delivers a blow to your stomach.

“Hey! Get off of her!” Jake is shouted at the top of his lungs. He’s seen you in far too many fights at this point and he knows when you have the upper hand and if you’re winning and if you’re alright. You were in fact, not alright. Treveor was fighting dirty and he wasn't holding back. “Get the fuck off her!” Jake is horrified at the sight unfolding before him, Trevor Tillerson in on top if you, his hand wrapped around your throat as you’re crawling at his hand.

“Easiest fucking fifty bucks I’ve ever made.” Trevor snickers as Jake is trying to pull him off you, he can't get a good enough grip but he's wrapping his arm around the guy's throat with enough force to drag him off you for a moment so you can scramble out from underneath him. Coughing and splattering. “Need your fucking boy toy to fight your battles now huh Brawler?” Trevor hisses as he pushes Jake away. “C’mon darlin, you're not going soft on us are ya? Flygirl?”

“Jake, back the hell off!” You're mumbling, raising your fist as you fix your stance. “M’fine.” You were clearly not fine and Trevor was clearly using mind games to fuck with you, to get a rise out of you. “I'm good.”

“Y/n.” Jake is pleading with you at this point. “He aint worth it baby, come on, lets just go.” His eyes are screaming at you to stand down, to let it go, but you can't, he doesn't know why this is so important to you, he doesn't understand what it's like.

“You backing down Abbott, that aint like you, not one bit.”

“Fuck off Trevor–” You start again, throwing the first punch that lands against Trevors chin. He's quick to follow through with another gut punch. You two go at him as Jake catches Perry and Bob racing over.

“I can't get her to stop!” Jakes never seen you so tunnel visioned before, except the time you beat the shit out of that girl for messing with him. “Bob–”

“What the hell’s going on here!” Perry is shouting just as Trevor backs up and takes a swing at you that lands far too heavy and far too quickly against your temple. It sends you down, outcold. Rhett sees it as he's hobbling over, still taking off his riding gloves when he sees you go down like a sack of shit. You fight all the time, know your way around a ring and bar fights seem to be your specialty, but this seemed different. This had been a targeted attack. Trevor had gone too far and Rhett, well– he wasn't the one who could lose his job if he took things too far.

“Oh my god–” Bob’s wide eyed and in shock as Trevor stumbles back in disbelief, Jake is at your side tapping your cheek softly to try and gain your attention, trying to draw you out of your unconscious state.

“Brawler?” Jake coos. “Baby girl you gotta open your eyes for me, come on pretty girl, where are you?” Rhett is tackling Trevor in seconds, belting into him the moment he hits the ground in a fit of rage with a red raw need for revenge.

“YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG.” It's damn near animalistic the way Rhett is going at it with Trevor. “ANY EXCUSE TO HIT A WOMAN HUH?”

“IT'S��BRAWLER!” Trevor is whaling, but it doesn't matter. You’re still a woman, a highly distinguished aviator and you don't deserve to be treated like anything less. Trevor Tillerson must have been dumb to think Rhett wouldn't have come to your defence.

“I can't deal with this, they’re both as bad as each other.” Bobs sighing, rubbing at his temples as Perry just laughs it off. Watching as you came to in Jake's arms. Bloodied and bruised and still smiling because Jake had really pretty worried eyes.

“Did I win?” You mumble, there's blood in your teeth and spilling out the side of your mouth but Jake doesn't care, he’s kissing your forehead regardless, shaking his head against you.

“Not this time honey, but I'm sure you’ll get 'em next time.” Jake is blatantly unaware that the next time it will be him, and he's unaware in those few terrifying moments that he’ll come to the conclusion that he's going to ask you to marry him. But for now he just sits with you in the dirt of the county fair, holding you close because you'd just found out that sometimes you win some and sometimes you lose some. “He baited you though, so this one doesn't count.”

“Woah, you have really pretty eyes, Hangman.” Jake knew you maybe had a slight concussion if anything as you stared up at him, he chuckled slightly as he held your head in his lap. “So pretty, all for me.”

“That's right baby, all for you.” When Jake looks up, he sees Perry dagging Rhett of a now unconscious Trevor Tillerson, serves him fucking right. Bob looks like he's about to fall apart at the seams, so frazzled and beyond irate at the pair of you. Like Brother like Brawler Bob would say. He loved the pair of you like crazy but you and Rhett couldn't not be in the same vicinity as each other.

“Oi Y/n, when the fuck?” Rhett's hissing, coming down to sit beside Jake. “What the hell happened?”

“I had it covered.” You mumbled. Trying to sit up as you saw stares and heard colours. Rhett just laughs, looking at Jake who's just as stunned as Bob. “What took you so long huh?”

“I was busy, had a competition to win.”

“I can feel Bob's glare burning into me.”

“Me too, if you look closely the vein on his forehead is about to explode.” Rhett joked as Bob just sighed, he hated coming home. “But you so could have had him Brawler, you win some you lose some though.”

“When he's up I'm ready for round two.” You hissed as Jake helped you sit up.

“Nope, no way, we’re going home before you beat up half to town baby.” Jakes shaking his head while Rhett just laughs. “I'm serious, you need to see a doctor for the concussion I reckon you've got.” You just looked at Jake, so much love for him and all his worry. Leaning into him to place a gentle kiss against his scruff covered cheek.

“Not concussed enough to not know how much I love you.”

#nosebleed section // jake seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Precious Life

Pairing: JJ x reader

REQUEST (From anon): could you write a jj maybank imagine where he and the reader are together, but she pushes him away due to her mental health. she has insecurity issues after her last boyfriend and her bestfriend passed a few months ago leaving her horribly depressed. finally, she opens up to him and its just super fluffy and he showers her in love and support.

Note: Thank you so much for the request and I’m so sorry it took me a while to write, but hopefully you like it. I kinda suck at fluff, so I’m sorry if it’s not enough fluff. Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of death of a friend, mental trauma from a past relationship, depression

You don’t know when it happened - whether it was overnight or throughout the past few weeks. Unlike everyone else who was excited about the summer finally beginning after what felt like the longest school year of your life, your days felt darker as you dreaded the upcoming season. You use to love summer - hell, you thrived during the hottest months of the year. You loved outdoor dining, surfing, beach parties, going out on the boat in the marsh with your friends. But now the thought of doing those activities made you want to vomit.

After your best friend passed away only a few months ago, you lost interest in all those activities. Because they all reminded you of her. She was the one who brought you out of you shell and pulled you out of your dark place when the world felt too unbearable to live in anymore. And now she was gone. Just like that. Life is so precious, you remember people telling you that at her funeral. They weren’t wrong. But you never thought your life could compare to the one of your beautifully made best friend.

Her birthday is next month in the early weeks of July. Her mother wants to hold a small party as if she was still there to celebrate. Of course she wants you there, but you don’t know if you’d be able to handle it. A birthday party for a dead girl? What an obvious reminder that she’s not there. It’s going to be the first birthday you spend without her. The tradition of getting smoothie bowls and going to the local zoo and finishing the night off with a bonfire and beer cans you stole out of your parents fridge is completely destroyed. Gone just like she is.

The only person making your miserable life a little more bearable is your wonderful boyfriend, JJ Maybank. Despite only being together for about two months, he became your closest friend. Your best friend would have loved him and would even be impressed that you went for such a bad boy. Your type usually consisted of stuck up boys with egos bigger than their daddy’s bank account. Sometimes you picture a life where your best friend and JJ knew each other. They’d probably be best of friends. Your friend would be weary of him at first, but JJ would work his usual charm and win her over in seconds. It’s what he did with you.

You met him after getting really close with Kiara when her dad hired you as another waitress at the Wreck. You remembered the day he first walked into the restaurant with his friends. You felt his eyes on you the entire time. Feeling bold, you walked over to his table and asked to borrow his phone. You opened his snap chat app and took a selfie with the two of you and said, “Here’s a picture if you want it to last longer.” And that was how the love story of JJ Maybank and Y/N Y/L/N started. JJ still has the picture saved as his Lock Screen. It makes you smile every time you see it.

Your life with JJ was nearly perfect. What started as a flirty banter became something serious. Kie knew JJ was in deep because he never complained about how slow you wanted to take the relationship. Aka sex. Usually JJ is the kind of guy who will go get what he wants. And if that’s a quick lay, that’s what he’ll go searching for. Someone that won’t make him work too hard for it. But with you? It was different. Sure he wanted to explore that part of the relationship with you, but only when you were ready. It was hard for him some days, especially when you wore his hoodies or kissed him so deeply that he swore his skin was on fire.

Although JJ has been nothing but a respectful KING about your decision to wait, you can’t help but feel guilty about keeping him waiting. It’s not that you didn’t want to - because god did you want to. But it was hard for you to give someone all of you like that. Part of you blames that on your own insecurities and the other part knows it’s trauma due to your past relationship. You never told anyone the kind of vile and disgusting things your ex boyfriend would say to your face. Well, you confessed to your best friend on the night he broke up with you. You physically had to hold her back by her hair to keep her from setting his house on fire. She tried to make you see that everything he said about you was wrong. Dumb, fat, whore, useless, poor, ugly. You wanted to believe her, but it was like your ex had physically tattooed the words onto your skin and it was hard to see anything else. When things were getting heated between you and JJ and you felt his hand dip under the thin material of your t shirt, you would pull away, afraid that he would feel the rolls on your stomach. You never let him see you without makeup on. And even wore baggy clothing so you wouldn’t have to worry about showing too much skin. You didn’t want him getting the wrong impression.

JJ tried asking Kie about it. JJ is smarter than people give him credit for. He had a feeling that your choosing to not have sex ran deeper than just not being ready. Which is totally fine but he wanted to be there for you if you needed help. Of course Kie had no idea. But just like JJ, she noticed you pulling away from the group slowly. She thought maybe it was the stress of finals as the end of the school year wrapped up, but then summer came around and the less you did.

“She’s been off, right?” JJ asks Kie. His legs bounces up and down anxiously and he chews on the nub of his thumb nail. “Do you notice it too?”

Kie doesn’t know how to answer. Of course she wants to be honest with her best friend, but she also doesn’t want to hurt him. “I mean, she’s been kind of distant with us. Maybe she’s been busy. I mean she’s gotten a few of her shifts covered in the last two weeks.”

JJ shakes his head. “I don’t know. I can’t shake off this feeling that it’s something more than that. Something I’m missing. I mean...” he sighs and takes his fingers through his hair. “Do you think it’s me? Did I do something? Maybe she feels pressured by this whole sex thing-“

“No. Of course not.” Kie says. She knows JJ would never make you do anything you don’t want to do, and he would never make you feel guilty about it. “You should talk to her about it next time you see her. I mean, I could bring it up too but I think it would be best coming from you.”

JJ nods and accepts this answer from Kie. It doesn’t make him feel any less anxious about the state of your relationship but at least he’s not crazy for thinking you’re pulling away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He doesn’t see you for another week. You claimed that you’ve been busy with work and college prep. JJ didn’t buy it but he also didn’t push it. He saw you when you showed up at his window at the Chateau.

You’d come after having one of your episodes - one where you can’t sleep or eat or even focus on one thought. You don’t know why you came to the Chateau. You knew JJ would be here but you didn’t think he’d be able to help you. No one ever can.

“Hey,” JJ flicks on the lamp from the bedside table as he watches your figure squeeze through the window. “What are you doing here?”

You shrug. “I - uh. I don’t know, exactly. Just wanted to see you, I guess.”

JJ tilts his head and narrows his eyes at you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” You lie.

JJ nods, but he doesn’t believe you. “Then come here.” He opens up his arms for you to fall into. When you do, he pulls you in close with your head laying on his bare chest. You focus on his steady heartbeat and his warm arms around your body. You miss this. Being with JJ whole heartedly - mind and body. Recently it’s only been your body - your mind off somewhere else.

“Did I wake you?” You ask softy.

JJ kisses the top of your head. “No.”

When you close your eyes, you picture your friend again. Her smile and laugh. Things that should have made you happy. But they don’t. Not anymore.

You don’t remember when or how it happened - how you ended up being below a hovering JJ as his lips peppered your skin. You remember starting the heavy make out session, hoping to distract yourself from the depressing thoughts of your dead best friend.

However, the deeper you got into it, the deeper you got in your own thoughts. First about your friend and then about your ex. What he would say if he were the one above you - “I thought you were going to the gym?” “You didn’t shave?” “You could use some sun.” - His voice rang in your head like a screeching record and you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Stop,” you mumble softly enough that JJ doesn’t hear it until you physically push him off of you and say more loudly. “J, stop!”

As his back hits the mattress again, he holds his hands up in surrender. He didn’t realize he was doing anything wrong and his heart races with the thought that maybe he hurt you or had gone too far.

You quickly pick up your tossed shirt and bag while avoiding all kinds of eye contact with him. You felt embarrassed. It’s not his fault that you can physically feel every skin roll on your body or think you can smell every bad odor radiating off your skin. JJ has never been anything but a prince to you since you started dating. You felt bad that you couldn’t give him what he wanted. Sex should be a normal part of your relationship yet you couldn’t seem to give him your all just yet.

“I’m sorry. Did I-“ JJ starts to apologize but you cut him off.

“No. I’m sorry. I should go. I should have never come -“

“Hey,” JJ sits up and tries to reach for you, but you yank your hand closer to your body when his fingers graze your skin. JJ frowns. “You don’t have to go. We can just go to sleep. Or I can sleep on the couch.”

You pause at the bedroom door with your back to him. You squeeze your eyes tight to stop the tears from cascading down your cheeks. You hate this. Feeling like another burden to someone else. Not being able to give the one you love everything they want. It’s not fair. It feels like everyday your days just keeping getting darker and darker as if the sun never rises. And you don’t know how long you’ll be able to take it.

“Y/N...” JJ softly calls out for you. He can see the tension in your shoulders and your knuckles turning white as you clench around the door knob. He knows something isn’t right. That there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to what you’re going through. He’d never force you to tell him anything. But he wants you to feel comfortable enough that you know you have the option to talk if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry, J...” your voice cracks which makes JJ’s heart break a little more. Still with your back to him, you shake your head. “I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“Y/N -“

You finally turn to look at him. “You deserve someone who will give you everything you want. Someone who makes you happy - someone who is happy.” You sniffle back the tears. “I’m sorry. That’s just not me.”

Tears prick at JJ’s eyes. He wishes he can say he is surprised, but he honestly saw this coming. You’ve been distant and hard to read. He thought you were falling out of love with him for weeks. But that doesn’t make this any less hard to hear.

“Don’t do this,” JJ shakes his head. “We can work this out -“

“I can’t do it anymore,” you shake your head as one lone tear falls down your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You rip the door open and stumble through John B’s house before JJ could say anything else. You throat feels on fire as you bite back a heart wrenching scream from what you’ve just done. You probably ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to you. No surprise there, you think. Nothing in your life seems to ever go as planned.

You run home until your legs feel like they’re literally on fire. By the time your back hits the mattress of your own bed, your muscles feel like jello, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to walk again.

You cry into your pillow until the world around you fades to darkness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Its been about two weeks since you last saw JJ and the Pogues. You didn’t think it was possible, but without them, your life somehow felt even emptier. Days feel like years. Your body feels so heavy, it’s hard to get out of bed most days. You can’t remember the last time you showered. Your skin on your face feels dry from all tears that have been shed. Some days you want to pick up the phone and call JJ or Kie, just to hear their voice. But you don’t. Because you don’t want to feel like a burden to either one of them. You broke up with JJ. You’re not their problem anymore.

With your head tucked deep into your pillow, you feel the corner of your bed dip as if someone had just sat down. You figured it was just your mom checking in on you again for the hundredth time. She doesn’t say anything and you don’t acknowledge her either.

Your phone beeps with another text message from JJ. You peek your eye open at your phone and slowly reach for it. You hesitate opening the message, afraid that whatever he has to say will only break your heart and make you feel like an even worse human being.

“You’re seriously not going to answer that?” The person sitting on your bed says, making you snap around to face the girl who is for sure not your mother, but your best friend. The same best friend who’s buried in a cemetery fifteen minutes away from your house.

She looks exactly how you remember her. Long beautiful hair that frames her perfect jawline. Tan almost glistening skin that radiates off the sunlight that shines through your window. Eyes sparkling with life and mischief.

You look at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. You were truly at a loss for words. Confused was an understatement. It didn’t make sense.

She laughs at your reaction and shakes her head. “Do you need a minute?”

“I don’t - how - am I - am I dreaming?” You stutter.

“No I’m just the prettiest zombie you’ve ever seen,” She says sarcastically and holds her grin. You blink at her. “Yes, you’re dreaming. Well, kinda.” She stands up and faces you. “You’re definitely dreaming but I’m in control of visiting you in your sleep. Kinda cool, right? It’s a ghost trick I recently learned.”

“I’m officially going crazy,” You say.

“You’re right. You are going crazy,” Your friend rounds to the other side of the bed to come face to face with you as you sit up and rub your eyes. “But not because you’re seeing me. Because you’re not seeing JJ.”

You drop your hands at your side and glare at her. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know of him,” She says. “He’s a Pogue. A hot one too. And he’s head over heels in love with you. What else do I need to know?”

You shake your head. “It’s complicated.”

“Why? He loves you and you love him.”

You flip your comforter off you body and walk past the girl who loves sticking her nose in other people’s business. You always told her it would get her in trouble one day. But you secretly loved that she was so nosy. Because she cared and always gave the best advice.

You walk towards your dresser and stare at yourself in the mirror above it. The bags under your eyes are dark and your skin pale. Your hair is greasy from your lack of washing it and you’re starting to realize you’re beginning to smell.

Your friend sighs and sits back on your bed. “He’s in your head,” She says glumly.

You scoff, “I think if anyone’s in my head, it’s you.”

She glares back at you. “You know what I mean. Y/Ex’s/N. He’s still tormenting you after almost a year of not seeing him.”

You shake your head. “No I’m -”

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t lie to me. You’re still hiding your laugh behind your hand because he called it obnoxious. You hide yourself under baggy clothing and you won’t have sex with JJ because Y/Ex’s/N said you were bad at it -”

“Stop.”

“Clearly you weren’t bad at it since he got to come every single time. If anyone was bad at it, it was him.”

“Y/BFF’s/N.”

“What? It’s true,” She shrugs. That’s what you always loved about her. She was unapologetic. She meant what she said every time no matter what. You wished you had her confidence. She sighs and moves over on the bed so she’s closer to you. “Y/N, you deserve to be happy,” she says more softly. “And JJ makes you happy. Why are you pushing him away? Why can’t you let yourself be happy?”

“Because you’re not here!” You finally kick down the wall that’s been building in your head since your friend’s death. You never talked about her with anyone. Not even with her own family. She was your person - the girl who was going to stand by your side at your wedding, be the god mother to your children, your shoulder to cry on, and your therapist when you needed to rant. And now she’s not here and it feels wrong living the life you were supposed to live together. “How can I be happy when you’re not here?”

“Y/N...”

“No,” You cry. “It’s not fair. You’re supposed to be here. I can’t pretend like everything’s normal when it’s not. This was supposed to be the best summer of our lives and then you just left.” You snap your fingers. “Just like that. Out of nowhere. And if that can happen to you then it can happen to -”

You cut yourself off, afraid to say what you really were thinking. You didn’t want to put that kind of energy into the atmosphere because the thought haunted you every night when you were alone with your thoughts. You never thought you could lose someone like you lost your best friend. You didn’t think that would ever happen to you. But it did. And it put life in perspective for you. You don’t think you’d be able to live through another loss like that so falling for JJ was scary to you. Because if something ever happened to him, you wouldn’t know what to do.

“Hey,” She stands up to embrace you in a hug. You sob into her shoulder and squeeze her tightly against you. You don’t want to let her go. She feels so real. You’re actually touching her. “Look at me.” She eventually pulls away to look at you. She offers a sad grin and pushes your hair out of your eyes. “I’m sorry I died. But you get to live! You know how jealous I am that you have the ability to eat smoothie bowls every day and go surfing and date cute boys and go on road trips with your friends and family? You don’t even know how good you have it. And on top of that, you have the hottest guy on the island fawning over you and you’re too sad about me to even realize it. I don’t want you to live this way -” she motions to your messy room. “I want you to take advantage of the life you have. If I can’t live it, then you have to live it for me.”

“I don’t want to do it without you,” You cry.

She shakes her head. “You’ll never be without me, chick. I’m always going to be with you. Besides, I like JJ. You’d be stupid to let him go.”

You bite your bottom lip and feel a rush of heat climb up your neck to your cheeks. “He is really good to me.” You knew your friend was right. She was always right. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” She says. You both turn when you hear someone knock on your door. She looks back at you and smirks. “That’s my cue.”

“Wait -”

“Don’t worry, chick. Remember what I said. I’m not far away.”

You gasp awake wrapped in your sheets with dried drool stuck to your chin. You sit up and look around frantically for any sign of your best friend. But she’s gone. So is any sign that she might have been here. You rub the dried saliva off your chin with your fingers and sigh up at the ceiling. It felt so real.

Your mom lets herself into your room and smiles at you. “Oh, good. You’re awake.”

“Yeah...” You say slowly. You think back to everything your best friend said to you in your dream. How lucky you are to live a life that she can’t. For the first time ever, she was jealous of you. For a life you’re taking for granted. Although it was hard to be happy without her by your side, you knew she didn’t want you sulking around for her. Some days are going to be hard. That’s just the inevitable. But you have the ability to make it easier. It all starts with you. “I think I’m going to take a shower.”

“Really?” Your mom says, surprised by the effort you’re making so early in the morning.

“Yeah,” You grin and walk past her to get to your bathroom. Today is going to be a new day, you say to yourself as you let the warm water rain over you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days later was your best friend’s birthday. A day you’ve been dreading for weeks. Your heart felt heavy and your mind clouded as you moved around your room getting ready for the day. As much as you wanted to stay in bed, you knew it wouldn’t be what she wanted. You haven’t spoken to her since that night, but you knew she was quietly watching over you.

You throw on a pair of sports shorts and a long sleeve t shirt. The day is cold and foggy so you knew the cemetery would be cold. Your parents offer you a small smile as you walk out the door with a bouquet of flowers and a blanket.

You slowly come to a stop as you’re walking to your car parked on the street in front of your house when you recognize a familiar truck parked behind it. JJ steps out of the driver’s seat and approaches you with his hands tucked in his short pockets. He smiles sheepishly at you and glances down at the flowers.

“Hey,” He says.

“Hey,” You shuffle awkwardly on your feet. Why did he have to look so good? He’s dressed in a Coors Light tank and cargo shorts. His golden hair is perfectly quaffed and his skin perfectly sun kissed. “How are you?”

“Good, good,” He nods. He hates that your relationship has resulted to this. Awkward small talk. “I’m sorry. Am I catching you at a bad time?” He motions to the flowers.

“Um,” You glance between the flowers and him and shrug. “No. I was actually just going to see a friend. Would you like to come?” You remember all the things your friend had to say about JJ. How he loves you, you love him, and he makes you happy. You messed up by breaking up with him, but maybe you can make it right by explaining everything to him.

“Oh,” JJ looks surprised that you’re offering time to hang out. He was afraid you were going to push him away and shut your front door in his face. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He just wanted to see you. “Yeah. Definitely.”

You smile. “Great. But we have to stop for smoothie bowls on the way.”

JJ laughs. “No problem.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward being alone with JJ after all this time. The two of you spent the car ride talking about the other Pogues and what they’ve been up to in the past couple of weeks. It was bittersweet talking about them because of how much you missed them, but you hoped that they would accept you back into their friend group after you explained to JJ why you’ve been so distant.

“Uh, Y/N.” JJ says when he parks the car.

“Yeah?”

“This is a cemetery.”

You can’t help but giggle at his apprehension. “I know. Come on.”

JJ carries the flowers and you carry the brown paper bag that holds your three smoothie bowls and a blanket. You lead him through the wet grass, past dozens of tomb stones until you find where your best friend peacefully lays.

JJ stays silent as he looks between you and the tombstone. The years etched onto the tombstone indicate that someone your age is buried here. He quickly puts the puzzle pieces together and tries to read your facial expression. Your sadly grinning at the tomb stone when you feel JJ’s eyes on the side of your face.

You lay the blanket down and offer half of it for him to sit next to you. He does but stays quiet, waiting for you to explain whenever you’re ready.

“This is Y/BFF’s/N,” You introduce her. “She was my best friend.” JJ nods and lets you continue as you stare at the tombstone. “She died a few weeks before we met.” You pull out the smoothie bowls and pass one to JJ and place the other one in front of the flowers placed by the grave. “Today’s her birthday and we had this tradition that we would get smoothie bowls every morning of our birthday.” You pop open the lid of your bowl and push around the berries laying on top with your spoon. “I know I owe you an explanation.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to...”

“Trust me,” You smile at him, “I do. She would kill me if I didn’t.”

You told JJ about the mental toll her death had on your life. Even with JJ by your side, you felt her missing presence heavily all day every day. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy in your relationship with JJ, it was just that something was missing and it was something you couldn’t bring back to your life. Because of her loss, you fell back into a depression you once experienced towards the end of your last relationship. You told JJ about the mental anguish your ex left you with and why you don’t feel comfortable opening yourself up to him, both physically and mentally. You promised it wasn’t because of JJ but because of your ex and the things he said to you. With your friend’s birthday coming up, everything was weighing you down mentally and you didn’t want to hinder JJ’s life any longer. You told him you thought breaking up with him was best for him so he didn’t have to deal with your problems and he can find a girl that makes him happy. You regret ever walking away from him that night. Your friend was your person, but now so is JJ. You want him to know everything about you. Good and bad. He deserves to know the truth.

“She would’ve liked you,” You brush your fallen tears away with the back of your hand. “You guys are alike in a lot of ways.”

“Yeah?” JJ smiles at you. “How?”

“She made me laugh and always pushed me past my comfort zone. She challenged me to do more with my life. And she never gave up on me,” You grin up at him. “I’m sorry for pushing you away.”

“You don’t have to be,” JJ says. “I get it. No one deserve to lose a friend like this. I don’t know what I would do if this happened to John B or Pope or even Kie.”

“I still love you, J. And I want to give you every part of me. I just...need some help opening up.”

JJ sets down his smoothie bowl and turns to face you. His hand caresses the side of your face and pushes your hair back behind your ear. “Hey....we can take it as slow as you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

You smile at him. “So, you wanna try this again?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

JJ leans in to kiss you on your lips. Butterflies erupt from your stomach and fireworks shoot across every nerve in your body. When you eventually pull away, you’re smiling because even when your best friend isn’t here to physically push you, she has her own way of getting into your head and making sure you don’t take the life you have in front of you for granted. And you couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Unbeknownst to you, your friend watches from a far with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. Slightly shaking her head, she says to you, “You’re gonna be just fine, chick.”

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ahsokasleftbicep · 3 years

Text

Name and Soul: Chapter 1

Alright everyone here is the first chapter of the series. Apologies for the delay, I had a lot of editing to do. I hope you enjoy it!

@mqgriett

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 3440

Warnings: Amnesia like stuff. Language. Bad Batch SPOILERS: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE TV SERIES!

It’s odd how quickly things change on the battlefield. This kind of change you never expected. You and the Bad Batch met about a year after the war started and with your sharpshooting and other combat skills, Hunter offered that you join their team. You got along with most of the group very quickly, with the exception of Crosshair. Over time, after a lot of sneers and eye rolling, the two of you grew closer. After a particularly grueling mission, both of you admitted how you felt and now the two of you barely went anywhere without the other. You were the perfect duo, with both of your skills combined, missions went without a hitch almost every time.

The group had been called to the planet Kaller to assist Master Billaba. Her padawan, Caleb, you believed his name was, led you and the boys to his master. That’s when it happened… that change, the shift in the air. The troops turned on the Jedi and fired on her. Order 66. Caleb bolted, running off into the woods, sliding down hills with a certain hatred in his eyes that you had never seen in someone so young, so… innocent. You, Hunter, and Crosshair ran after him. The woods were so peaceful compared to the chaos everywhere else.

It was quiet and Caleb seemed to disappear. You looked around and saw him in the trees. “Hunter, Crosshair, I found him.” While Hunter tries to convince the kid to come down, Crosshair aims at the kid. “Crosshair no!” You tackle him down into the snow.

Caleb runs off, Hunter yells out, “Crosshair, what are you doing?”

“Following orders. Get off me Y/n.” Crosshair shoves you off him before getting up.

You follow him, an angry look on your face. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“I’m following my orders. We need to find that Jedi.” The man walks off, you tailing behind him.

“Crosshair, we don’t even know what the order is.” You grab his hand, “Just wait until we know what’s happening.”

He turns his head towards you before scoffing, “Fine.”

Good soldiers follow orders. Crosshair mumbled that before Hunter sent you back with the others. When all of you got back to the ship, Tech explained that all the clones had been ordered to execute the Jedi. Saying that they committed treason and tried to kill the Chancellor. The war was just somehow over. None of it made any sense. According to the sergeant, Caleb died in a fall. You all got ordered back to Kamino, offloading and heading to your barracks.

“Hunter let that Jedi kid escape, or do you want to keep lying?” Crosshair sneered.

Hunter gets up, “I don’t like to think of executing our commanders as an objective.”

“An order is an order, Hunter.”

“Since when Cross? You’ve never been one to follow orders, why are you starting now.” You raise your voice to the two men. Everyone goes quiet.

“Don’t act noble y/n, you’re as much to blame as Hunter is for letting that Jedi escape. I could have gotten him if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“He was a child!” You walk up to him, glaring into his eyes.

“He was a traitor!” Crosshair pushes you back before continuing to clean his weapon.

You speak up after a while. “This doesn’t make any sense. General Billaba and her battalion have been in numerous battles, serving alongside each other for years.”

Echo speaks up this time, “How could they turn on her like that?”

“Because of the regs programming. It’s been documented that the Kaminoans inhibited the functions of clones to engineer them to follow orders without any question” Tech explains. “They manipulated everything, Crosshair’s sharpshooting and Hunter’s enhanced sense. And of course my exceptional mind. I assume that we are immune,” Tech glances at Crosshair. “at least, most of us.”

All personnel report to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic.

You felt so out of place in the staging area, surrounded by clones that felt off to you. Their mannerisms were different, more robotic. You were drawn back at attention when Chancellor- no Emperor Palpatine began speaking.

....And the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed. But I assure you. My resolve has never been stronger! In order to ensure the security and continuing stability…

… the Republic will be reorganized… into the first Galactic Empire!

“Galactic Empire?” You look over to your team in confusion. Sudden cheers ripple across the room, the other clones celebrating like it's the greatest thing in the world.

Tech and Wrecker were arguing at the table. You kept looking at Crosshair, he was acting odd, well more that usual. He’s still acting like a prick, so that’s a good sign. He let you sit next to him, so that was good too. But he kept rubbing his head, like he had a migraine of some kind… so odd. You nudged his thigh.

“Are you feeling well, Cross? You look sick.”

“Thanks for the compliment, y/n.”

“You know what I mean... tell me what’s going on.”

“Just a migraine, don’t worry about it.”

“An Imperial’s been sent to evaluate the clones.” Hunter speaks as he sits down.

“What kind of evaluation?”

“Hopefully not mental. Clearly we’d never pass that… well, maybe y/n could.” Tech nods his head to you.

“Oh I doubt it, with all the stuff we’ve been through together, I’d probably fail.” You take a sip of your water before something catches your eye.

Omega shifts awkwardly, “Hello again. Omega. From earlier?.... in the corridor.”

“Yeah, kid. We remember.” Hunter raised his eyebrow at the child.

Hunter was about to ask about the kids parents before a couple regs interrupted. “Check it out. The defect squad’s got themselves a recruit.” Before you can react, Omega throws her food at the clone. Hunter tries to diffuse the situation, but you didn’t get your throw in so you grab your tray.

“Y/n, don’t.” Crosshair attempts to grab your wrist but just misses you.

“Don’t worry, Cross. I won’t miss.” You wink at him.

“Hey Wrecker, let's show the kid how it’s done, yeah?” You aim before to throw the tray at the clone. “Oops, my hand must’ve… slipped.”

All hell breaks loose and punches are thrown. Echo got knocked out, when the boys got up to go get him, you walked by Crosshair. Here goes nothing.

“Crosshair?”

“Hm? What is it?”

You grab his hand and pull him into a hall. “What happened on Kaller? Tell me what happened.”

“I told you, it’s just-”

“Why are you lying to me?” You pull his hand, drawing him closer.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, it’s you all. You’re the ones who refused to carry out the order.”

“An order to kill a child, Crosshair.”

“That child was a traitor to the Empire.”

“But a child nonetheless.” You retort.

“You don’t understand, none of you do. Just drop it.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Crosshair, you’re worrying me.”

The man looks down at you, he looks so lost. “There is nothing wrong. I promised I would never lie to you when I proposed.” He tugs at the delicate chain around your neck, fiddling with the ring that he gave you just weeks before.

You look at him, skeptical, “And you’ll tell me if something is wrong? Cross your heart?”

His lips tilt up, “Cross my heart.”

Echo told you all about Tarkin. When you all started heading towards the training facility, the shock troopers stopped you.

“Y/n L/n? Admiral Tarkin has asked you to sit out of this battle simulation.”

You furrow your brows, “He’s asking me to not train with my team?” You look at Hunter and shrug, “I’ll be watching, I guess… Be careful, something doesn’t feel right.”

Wrecker speaks up, “Oh don’t worry Y/n, we’ll be fine!”

When you arrive at the observation deck, you are greeted by Lama Su and who you assume is Admiral Tarkin.

“Ms. L/n.” The prime minister greets you in a monotone voice.

“Prime Minister, may I-” you were interrupted by Tarkin.

“We can dismiss formalities, begin the simulation. Ms. L/n, you will be answering some questions for me.”

“....Of course, Admiral” You stand next to the man, watching the boys go through the course.

“What is your opinion of this team, L/n?”

“My opinion, sir? Well they are the best group I have worked with. Their skills are the most impressive I’ve seen.” You speak as you watch Crosshair take out the tower cannons. Wrecker is having the time of his life by the looks of things. So far so good.

“Switch to live fire.” Your blood runs cold, live fire? What is going on here? You watch the new droids take their place down below, Wrecker got hit and you tensed, unaware that Tarkin noticed your worry.

“And what of your relationship with these clones?”

“My relationship sir?” Your eyes catch onto Crosshair in the tower, moving to run out the door when he almost falls from the tower. Tarkin didn’t miss that either. He turned his head to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Surely you’re aware that relationships within the military are forbidden, especially with these… clones.” The bile in his tone made you sick, you wanted to punch him.

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting Admiral, but I can assure you that my relationship with my team is strictly as comrades.”

“I’m sure of it then. I will be sending Clone Force 99 on a mission. I ask that you stay in Kamino during that time. And one more thing.” Tarkin turns to you. “Did your team carry out Order 66?”

You grit your teeth, “Yes sir, the death of the general and her padawan were confirmed, was that not clear to you?”

“Only the death of General Billaba was confirmed, a counter report was filed by one of your own says otherwise.” Tarkin turns and walks out. “That will be all Ms. L/n, you are dismissed.”

Once Tarkin was out of sight, you ran back to the barracks. You rush in, seeing the boys, frustrated looks on their face. “Who’s that Imperial bastard think he is?!”

Echo turns, “Y/n! Are you alright? What happened?”

“He questioned me about you guys. Asked of my opinion… and of my relationship with you all…”

“That bastard,” Echo clenches his fist, “He knows everything about everyone. He’s got it out for us.”

You look at Crosshair, “Tarkin said that one of us filed a counter-”

The door slides open and the devil himself walks through, “That was quite an impressive display, Nala Se claims that you are all more capable than an army.”

Hunter steps forward, “You have a mission for us, sir?”

“Yes, a group of insurgents in the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with. Unfortunately, Ms. L/n will not be able to join you. She will be staying here on Kamino while you complete this task.”

You help Tech load the last bit of supplies on the ship. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll stay in the barracks until you come back.”

“It shouldn’t take us long. If everything goes according to plan that is.” Tech says.

You smile and walk down the ramp.

“Y/n.” Crosshair calls you over.

“Yes Cross?”

He takes your hand and runs his fingers over your wrist, avoiding your eyes. “There’s something-”

“Crosshair! Let’s go!”

He looks back at you, apologizing. You squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Crosshair, we can talk about it when you come back.” You lean up and kiss his cheek. “ Be careful, okay.”

“Okay, y/n.” He pressed his lips to your temple before climbing up the ramp. They take off and you turn around, finding Omega behind you.

“Hey, uh, Omega right?”

“Yeah! And you’re y/n.” You can’t help but notice the worry in her features.

“Is something wrong?” You lean closer when the child just nods

“Kamino isn’t safe anymore, we need to get out of here. Something is going to happen, I just don’t know what. But the boys aren’t safe here.”

You kneel to her height, “Okay, I believe you. Something has been off ever since the order was declared. Keep quiet for now, okay. When the boys come back, we’ll figure something out.” Omega nods and runs off to Nala Se.

“Y/n!” Omega rushes into the barracks.

“Omega! What are you doing here?” You walk up and close the door. “Oh hey AZI.”

-“Ms. L/n. Omega, Nala Se instructed us to stay in the medical wing.”

“You guys can stay, think of it as a research assignment.” You smile at the girl.

Omega and AZI are looking around the barracks when troopers come to the door.

“You are not authorized to be here.”

You speak up, “Omega is fine, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

The trooper turns to his partner, “Pack up their gear and take it to the hangar. You two, you’re coming with me.”

“We’ve done nothing wrong, and you are not touching our stuff. Back off!”

The troopers grab you and Omega.

“Let go of her!” You struggle against his grip, then everything goes black.

You groan and open your eyes.

“Y/n! Are you okay? They hit you a-and then threw us here!”

You grab Omega’s hand. “Slow down, I don’t know what’s happening, but you need to stay calm okay?”

The door slid open, revealing the batch, they were missing their armor. “Guys!”

“Y/n, what happened?” Hunter helps you off the ground. Crosshair just rubbed his head and walked to a corner.

“I don’t know, they just threw us in here.” You rub your head. “What are you guys doing here, what happened to the insurgents?”

Hunter pauses, “They weren’t droids, they were people. There were children and elderly. We didn’t hurt them.”

From the corner, Crosshair interjects, “Because Hunter went soft, he had us disobey orders.”

“What? Crosshair, they were living people.” You look at him, confused.

“We’re locked in here because of him. First the padawan, then Gerrera. You’re becoming a liability, Sergeant.”

“Enough.” Everyone looks at you, “None of this is helping us get the hell out of here.”

After Omega spoke to your fiance, you quietly sit next to him. “Crosshair, I know you’re the one who filed the report.”

“How smart you are, y/n.”

“You don’t have to do this. You would never do this.” You're interrupted by the man that threw you in here.

“CT-9904, you’re coming with us.”

Hunter jumps up, “Oh, no, no, no. We stay together”

“Stand down!”

“Crosshair!”

“I said stand down!” The trooper shoves you back into the cell.

As Crosshair puts on his armor, he notices a chain with a ring around his neck. He doesn’t remember who or what it’s for. Help me, please. Don’t hurt them. Don’t hurt y/n.

Tarkin approaches him, “CT-9904, the prisoners have escaped from the brig. Make sure they don’t leave this planet.”

Crosshair tucks his helmet under his arm. “Yes, sir.” Good soldiers follow orders.

You tighten your hand in Omega’s as you run through the halls to get to the hangar.

“All right, this way. Let’s make this quick.”

Tech runs to power up the ship, and the hangar door opens.

You tighten the grip on your rifle, “Omega, get down. Do not get up until Hunter says so, okay?” You look up and see him.

“Crosshair, it’s me. I-”

“Crosshair?”

“Best stand down, Sergeant.” His eyes flit over to you. “You as well.”

“Lower your weapon.”

“Y/n” Hunter looks at you. You nod and raise your rifle.

“I can’t do that Crosshair. I’m sorry. I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

One of the troopers fire, blaster shots flying everywhere.

“Omega, go!” You yell out. You glance back and see Crosshair take aim at Hunter. A shot fires, knocking the rifle out of his hands. Omega. You take aim at his rifle when he tries to grab it again and fire. Crosshair shoots up as you run to the ramp, grabbing Omega and throwing her inside. Crosshair kept firing with his pistol, you returned fire, but did not hit him. You couldn't hurt him.

After the Marauder got into hyperspace, you sat down in Crosshair's room, your shared room. You fiddle with the necklace when the door opens, revealing Omega.

“Hey, are you okay?” The mattress bends a little.

“Yes… no, I’m sad and confused.” You feel tears welling in your eyes but blink them away. Omega looks at your necklace and points at it.

“What’s that?”

You smile softly at her. “It’s an engagement ring.” You chuckle at the confused look on her face. “It’s something that a person gives to someone that they love so much, that they want to spend the rest of their life with them. Crosshair gave this to me.”

“So he loves you and you love him?” The girl scoots closer out of curiosity.

“I love him very very much. I miss him very much too.”

“How did you two meet?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You really want to know?” The girl nods enthusiastically. “Well, it’s actually a pretty funny story. Before I joined the batch, I lived off the grid. When the war started I joined a local militia on Batuu, I was a sniper like Crosshair. Kept innocents safe, took out droids. One day there was a larger group of Seperatist droids causing trouble, I got sent out to look around and take them out.” You look over at Omega and she nods. “Things didn’t go exactly as planned, and a couple of civilians got caught in the middle. A droid was about to take a shot and my rifle had jammed. So I just ran towards it and tackled it. At the same time, someone shot me in the leg. When I looked back, I saw Crosshair standing on a building, all tense. Well, he was grumpy that I blocked his shot and he carried me back to the ship. After I healed up, Hunter offered me a spot on the team. And I’ve been with them ever since.”

The girls eyes widen. “So you’re a sniper too? Can you teach me?”

“Teach you? What, to shoot?” You look at the girl in surprise.

“Yes! I want to help however I can. Can you teach me? Please?” Omega got on her knees and bounced on the bed.

“I’m not the best-” You sigh, “Okay, okay. We can ask Hunter tomorrow.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you!” Omega hugged you, smiling.

“Of course, why don’t you get some rest. You’ve had a long day.” You pat her head. “You can sleep in here until we set something up for you.”

“I’m not tired though.” She could barely hold her eyes open and she kept yawning.

“Sure you aren’t. Come on, bed time.” You pick the girl up and lay her in the bed across from you. You tucked the blanket around her and got up to leave, but she tugged on your hand. “Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“We’ll get Crosshair back, I know it.” She lets go and closes her eyes.

You crouch down and smile softly, “I know we will too, Omega.”

Crosshair sits on his bunk, staring at the necklace in his hands. He looks again at the engraving on the ring. O'r gai bal runi.

“What the hell does that mean?” He grumbles and turns the ring in his hand. I don’t remember why I have this. That women… y/n… she had the same ring around her neck. Who is she? Crosshair puts the necklace on the side table.

He rubs his head, furrowing his brows. Fight back! Fight back dammit! Get out of here!

“Shut up already…” Crosshair climbs into the bunk and stares at the ceiling before closing his eyes.

Everything hurts. NO! NO! Don’t let me hurt them again… I can’t hurt my brothers. I can’t hurt her. Y/n, y/n, please don’t leave me. HELP ME!

“Crosshair!” You shoot up from your bed, gasping for air. You look around wildly in the darkness. I heard him. I swear I heard him.

A small voice calls out, “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“I- Yeah, I’m alright, just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep Omega.”

You lie back down in your bed and grab your necklace, moving it around in your hand. We’ll find you Crosshair, we’ll bring you home.

#name and soul #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb spoilers #star wars

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thewayofthemandalorian · 3 years

Text

all that you are to me - oneshot

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Rating: M Word count: 3,224 Summary: After the Razor Crest crash lands on a frozen planet, you and Din must work together to try and fix the ship and stay warm. When the temperature drops, causing you to be near-hypothermic, Din must find a way to keep you warm. Notes: Like pretty to think, this one was inspired by this week’s episode of The Mandalorian, 2.02, “Chapter 10: The Passenger.” This one isn’t directly inspired by the episode, but rather is more lightly influenced by it. Even so, if you haven’t seen the episode, I’d advise waiting until watching to read this, even if it’s only ever so slightly inspired by a main plot point in the episode - just to be on the safe side. As always it will be under the cut. Warnings: Potential season 2 spoilers. Hypothermia, sharing body heat, mutual pining, implied/referenced sex.

Taglist: @dindjarindiaries @goldafterglow @frannyzooey @absurdthirst @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @hopelikethesun @forever-rogue @f0rever15elf @thewaythisis @marvel-and-mischief @seasonschange-butpeopledont @sin-djarin @ezrasarm @din-damn-djarin @opheliaelysia @pajamasecrets @mandohatesdroids @poenariuniverse @fioccodineveautunnale @fleetwoodmactshirts @auty-ren @profkenobi @storiesofthefandomlovers @ithinkwehitametaphor @yespolkadotkitty @cinewhore @wille-zarr @tangledlove27 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @cryptkeepersoul @hayley-the-comet @clydesducktape @jaime1110 @computeringturtle @lovinglokiforever @justanotherblonde23 @sesamepancakes @phoenixhalliwell @giselatropicana @buckysalefty @fromthedeskoftheraven @paintballkid711 @ghostwiththemostbitch @revolution-starter @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @lilkermit14 @luvzoria @none-of-your-bullshit @sithkrispies @xserenax-13 @princess-and-pedro @dee-rosemary @kid-from-new-zealand @chibi-liz05 @dearspacepirates @mandolover86

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The ship was losing fuel - and fast. As you fluttered out of sleep, you heard Mando cursing to himself as the console blared.

You had been in the Mandalorian’s employ for the past year or so, and in that time, you had taken on many roles as he had needed you to - navigator, co-pilot, carer for the Child, an extra bounty hunter.

As you stirred, you noticed a pair of TIE fighters on either side of the Razor Crest.

“No, no, no, no,” muttered Mando, his voice panicked and frustrated through the modulator.

Clearing your throat to make yourself known, you said, “What’s going on? Where are we?”

Mando just grunted as he pushed an arbitrary button on the console. “We have to land on this planet, mesh’la. Get the drop on these Imps.” He was always calling you something in his language: Mesh’la, cyar’ika, cyare. You didn’t really know what they meant. Probably girl or something along those lines.

“What are they doing?” You shucked your blanket off, already missing its warmth as you stood to join Mando at the console. “Are they after the kid?” You glanced at the baby, who was still asleep in his pram, blissfully unaware of what was happening.

Mando grunted as the Crest shuddered mid-flight. “Kriff,” he swore. “I think so. They got the jump on me about half an hour ago. I damaged one of the TIE fighters enough so that now there’s only two instead of three.”

You nodded. “What can I do?”

There was a jolt and the Razor Crest fell from the sky. A planet came into view.

“Hold on!” Mando says as a TIE fighter shoots a nearly fatal blast on the Crest.

There was a lurching jolt, giving no chance for you to get back to your seat. You lost your footing, landing in Mando’s lap. Instinctively - it must have been instinctively, right? - one of his gloved hands reached out to anchor around your hip, holding you steady as he attempted to fire back at the Imps from where the Razor Crest had landed with a crash.

Ignoring the thrill of sitting in Mando’s lap, you held your breath as the Crest gunned down the two TIE fighters. Now that Mando had the right vantage point - able to shoot them from where they were in the sky - it was easy work for the bounty hunter. A few minutes later, you heard the two fighters crash a few miles away.

From behind you, the child woke up, thoroughly displeased at the whole situation, about being rudely awakened. You forced yourself from Mando’s lap - though you desperately wished to stay seated there - to check on the baby.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it sweetheart?” you cooed gently to the baby. He gurgled in response, looking up at you reproachfully. “Your dad and I are trying to figure it out.”

The child’s father had started pressing buttons on the console again. The ship made a sputtering sound and then powered down. A frustrated sigh escaped the modulator. “Kriff,” Mando said again.

“That didn’t sound good,” you said, taking in the planet. It was an ice planet, though which one, you couldn’t be sure. “Where are we?” you asked as Mando pressed at buttons on the console with futility. The Crest wasn’t going anywhere without repairs.

“Nowhere good,” rasped Mando. “And if I can’t get the Crest up and running, we’ll surely freeze here.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. Freezing to death was not what you signed up for. “Chances we can get it working?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral, even.

Mando grunted. He wasn’t sure. “Come outside, cyare, help me take a look.”

Bundling the child in your blanket - he may have had special powers, but you weren’t taking any risks at getting him cold - you followed the Mandalorian outside into the cold.

* * *

You had been interested in the stoic, soft-spoken Mandalorian bounty hunter for some time, now. You weren’t sure if you could call it love - not yet anyway - but it was very much like. It was hard to tell if Mando reciprocated your feelings given that you were unable to read his face, hiddden away behind the helmet.

There were many nights where you dreamt of what his face might look like. You had seen what his skin looked like once or twice before when he had asked you to help him cauterize wounds or stitch him up, so you knew that he had tan skin.

You imagined that he had brown hair, dark eyes. Perhaps not as dark as the baby’s, but no less expressive. Did he have a beard, or was he clean-shaven? That part you were unclear of.

How funny it was to you that you had fallen for a man whose face you had never seen.

You knew he at least liked you. Well enough to keep you in his employ. And he trusted you well enough to take care of the baby, the one person who mattered to him more than anyone else. Mando seemed to value your opinion, and at the very least, enjoyed conversation with you. That is, when he was in the mood for conversation.

The one thing that threw you off the most about Mando after his helmet, with its blank expression, was the words he called you in the Mandalorian language. Before meeting him on Nevarro, you had never heard it spoken. While you could tell based on the cadence in his voice when Mando was swearing, you didn’t know what he meant when he called you mesh’la or cyar’ika.

He hadn’t always called you those things. At first he usually didn’t use any word to address you, sometimes he would call you by your name, but about three or four months ago, he had started calling you those words. You liked them, even though you didn’t know what they meant.

At some point, he would either figure out that you had feelings for him, or you would tell him. For right now, you needed to focus on getting off this planet with your lives.

* * *

“Can you pass me that wrench, sweet girl?” asked Mando as you stood by, baby securely in the carrier bag that was slung across your shoulder.

Sweet girl. That was new. Schooling your expression, you handed him the tool. “What exactly are you doing, Mando?” you asked, trying to ignore the electricity flowing through your veins at being called sweet girl by him.

Mando grunted as he reached into the bowels of his ship. “Improvising,” he grated out. You shivered. “Cold, cyare?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Fighting the shiver from your voice, you said, “A little bit.”

“I can practically see the cold radiating off you.” A shudder ran through you. With the sun setting quickly, it wouldn’t be too long before the temperature plunged even further down. Mando pulled his hand out from the inside of the ship. “Hopefully that does it. I don’t think we should be out here for much longer. You’re practically frozen solid, and the kid looks like he’s about to freeze, too.” The baby cooed at Mando.

Your voice shuddered as you spoke. “Y-you’re one t-t-to t-talk. Your he-helmet’s got f-fr-frost on it.”

Mando sighed, noticing the sun sinking further and further below the horizon; it wouldn’t be long before it was completely set. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll shut ourselves in the cockpit, get cozy and try again when the sun comes up.”

You nodded, fighting off another shiver. The temperature was already much colder than it had been when you set outside forty-five minutes ago.

“Come on, cyar’ika, let’s go inside. With any luck, that did the trick.” Mando didn’t sound optimistic.

Setting the child in his pram - he had fallen asleep instantly - you stood beside Mando’s seat as he flipped some switches on the console. The Crest sputtered, coughed, and died down again within fifteen seconds. Mando sighed. “Okay. So, it looks like we’re stuck here for tonight. There’s one thing that might work that we haven’t tried, but I don’t wanna risk going back outside tonight. It’s too cold. Find as many blankets as you can, tonight we’re huddling together.”

So many thoughts crossed your mind as you heard what Mando said. “O-okay,” you said, your tongue thick in your mouth. You knew he meant sharing blankets and staying close together.

* * *

You were freezing. Even though you had four blankets and not a single inch of skin beneath your chin was exposed to the cold air, you couldn’t stop shivering. You were almost warm from the cold air.

Mando, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be bothered at all. He had stripped his beskar off, leaving only his helmet in place. His tunic looked warm and cozy. He looked cozy, you corrected yourself. If he was cold, he didn’t complain. As you lay on the bedrolls that you and Mando had set up, your lips chattered together.

All of a sudden, the warmth returned. “Oh, this is nice,” you said as your body warmed up.

“Mesh’la?” Mando’s voice sounded from somewhere beside you. He sounded very far away. You hummed. “Your body temperature is dropping.” You could feel another piece of material being wrapped around you. Mando’s cape.

“No ‘m fine, Mando. Very warm. Might go to sleep,” you sighed.

Mando was suddenly above you. “No, cyare,” he said, his voice urgent. “We need to warm your core temperature up. Otherwise you might die.”

Maker knew he didn’t want you to die, not without you knowing how he truly felt.

“Silly Mando,” you said, drifting closer to sleep’s warm embrace.

“We need to huddle together,” said Mando. “Sharing body heat will warm you up.”

Before you could protest, he had taken his tunic off.

Mando had a tattoo on his chest. He had a few, the more you looked. They looked good.

“Thank you,” his modulated voice said, amusement trickling through. Huh? Oh, you had said that last bit out loud, you realized.

Shutting your eyes as Mando eased you up to take your own tunic off, you felt the heat radiating off of him. You always knew he would be a human furnace.

When the two of you were stripped down to nothing, Mando slipped into the bedroll beside you. “Keep your eyes closed?” he asked.

Nodding, you said, “Mmm-hmmm.” A few seconds later the room was shrouded in darkness; a hissing sound filled the cockpit.

“It’s dark enough, cyare, you don’t need to keep your eyes shut anymore,” he said. His voice sounded different.

Had he…? “Is your helmet off?” you asked. It was a stupid question, you could feel his stubble pressed against your skin.

It wasn’t long before you started to warm up, for real this time. Mando’s heat combined with your own made you feel much warmer, for a few reasons.

“Mando,” you whispered, your eyes still shut. “What if we die?”

Mando shushed you. “Put the question from your mind, sweet girl. We’re not going to die. I won’t let it happen.” His voice was so warm, so tender. You wished you could see his face.

You shifted in his strong embrace so that you were facing him. Reaching out blindly, you touched his face. He was smiling slightly, you realized as your fingers brushed his lips. He pressed his lips to your fingers, grazing them slightly with his kiss. “Sweet girl,” he whispered. “How good you are. The way you take care of me and the kid. How mesh’la - beautiful you are. Your kindness.”

“Mando,” you replied, your own voice quiet.

Before you could say anything else, Mando interrupted you. “It’s Din.” You frowned, not sure what that meant. Mando continued. “My name. It’s Din Djarin.”

It suited him, you thought.

“It suits you,” you said. You were still in disbelief that this was happening. You shivered again, but not from the cold air.

Feeling brave, you pressed your lips against his. You missed slightly, catching the corner of his mouth instead of full-on. Din righted you, slotting his lips against yours more properly.

Although Din didn’t have much experience kissing, you assumed, he was still very thorough. His arms tightened against you, pulling you closer to him. How that was possible when you were literally skin to skin already, you weren’t sure.

He pulled away from your lips, catching his breath. “Sweet girl. You don’t know what you do to me,” he said, his voice ragged with emotion.

You kissed him again, quickly. “I think I do. Because you do the same to me.”

Din stroked your back as he kissed you again, moaning at the feeling of your fingers coming up to knot in his hair. It was so soft, his hair. It curled a little at the nape of his neck.

“Warm me, Din Djarin,” you whispered as he pulled you on top of him.

Nipping the skin just beneath your ear, Din whispered, “Don’t worry, dear thing, I’ll keep you warm.”

* * *

You were definitely not cold anymore. As you lay sprawled across Din’s chest, you could hear his steady heartbeat, just beneath one of his tattoos.

“What are you thinking, cyare?” he asked, his chest rumbling against your ear with the vibration of his voice.

You smiled. “Just how nice this is.”

Mando hummed in agreement. “It is. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while how I felt, but seeing you almost freeze to death put my plans into hyperdrive.” He stroked your back as he spoke.

“Me, too. I’m glad you noticed that I was nearly hypothermic. For a number of reasons,” you said, pressing a kiss to his chest in gratitude.

“I wouldn’t have let my girl die on me,” Mando said softly. Your heart fluttered at the implications of his words.

After a moment’s silence, filled only by the soft snores that filtered through the child’s closed pram (thank the Maker it was soundproof on the inside).

“You are, right?” Mando’s voice was quiet, hesitant, giving you pause. “You are my girl, right?”

You propped yourself up on an elbow, looked in what you assumed was the direction of his eyes, wondering vaguely if he could see you. “For as long as you’ll have me, Din.” You kissed him clumsily, still unable to see him.

As you settled back against him, you yawned. “We should sleep, Din. We had a long day today, and I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring.”

Before you could go to sleep, Din spoke. “Join me and the kid in the sleep compartment. You don’t have to sleep in that awful makeshift cot anymore.”

Nodding sleepily against his chest, you said, “That sounds nice.”

“You rest, cyare. I’ll keep you warm.”

* * *

The following morning, you woke up to the press of Din’s lips to your temple. It was still dark in the cockpit. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but it was early.

“Morning,” you said groggily, reaching out to touch Din’s cheek, making sure that last night was real, that it had really happened the way you remembered it. The ache between your legs was confirmation enough, but it was nice to touch Din’s face.

“Are you warm enough?” asked Din, running a hand over your hairline, his touch feather light.

You leaned up to kiss him. “Mmm. I could always stand to be warmer.”

Sparing a glance to check that the kid was still asleep, Din was upon you in seconds, doing everything he could to make sure you were warm enough and also knew that he was with you in every sense of the word.

You could get used to this.

One day, perhaps, you would see his face, finally be able to know the colour of his eyes, his soft hair.

“Better?” he asked, just as the baby started to stir. Din reached blindly for his helmet.

One day, you thought, he might let you see his face. And when he was ready to, so would you.

Bundling back up, you and Din worked in tandem, just fixing the Razor Crest enough so that it would take off and get you to Corellia where it could be properly fixed by someone who knew what they were doing.

It was still frigid, but in the sun, it was just bearable compared to the end of the day yesterday. Just as you were starting to fully feel the chill of this planet’s atmosphere, Din was able to power up the ship.

“Let’s go, cyare,” called Din from the cockpit. "I want to get out of here before this ship dies on us."

You didn’t need to be told twice. You bounded up the ramp, shutting it behind you.

Setting the baby in his pram, you gave him an extra blanket again to warm up before sitting in the passenger’s seat.

“After the ship is repaired, let’s go somewhere warm,” you teased as the Crest took off.

Din turned to look at you, his helmet expressionless, his voice full of promise. “Oh, don’t you worry about being warm, cyar’ika, I never break a promise.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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acabecca · 3 years

Text

Jas + Steve // Three Little Words - a companion piece to Start Of An Age

no one requested this i just saw some prompts i liked and basically gave them to myself 😌 thank u to @sgtbuckyybarnes for the lovely edits, and to @ohhitherekatie for helping me when i was stuck and ready to quit writing the whole thing! (lyrics in the edit are from accidentally on purpose by the shires)

Flicking through her mail, her keys dangling from the tip of her middle finger, Jas shouldered the front door of her apartment open and walked inside, her stomach dropping the second she kicked the door shut.

Another night alone, again.

She dumped her mail - bills and fliers, nothing interesting from no one she wanted to hear from - on the table in the hallway and dropped her keys into the key dish that Steve had bought for her.

“Here, you’re always losing your keys, so I got you something,” he handed her a small, neatly gift wrapped box and Jas squealed, snatching it out of his hands as he laughed. “Don’t get too excited! It’s nothing special!”

“I love presents! And if it’s off you, I’ll love it even more,” she cooed, leaning forwards and pinching his cheek as his face flushed and he swatted her away.

He was right; it wasn’t anything special - just a small, turquoise bowl, just the right size for her keyring.

But she was right, too; she loved it because it was a gift from him.

Jas sniffed, wiping underneath her eyes. Christ, she was about to start crying over a bowl.

“Get a grip, James,” she muttered to herself, slipping her jacket off and hanging it up on the hooks by the door - something else Steve had bought and installed himself, so she would have somewhere other than the kitchen worktop or the back of the couch to throw her jacket when she got home from work.

“You’re so untidy.”

“If you don’t love me at my worst then you don’t deserve me at my best, Rogers,” Jas told him from where she was lying draped across the couch, slurping on an ice pop as she scrolled through Netflix.

Steve laughed, dropped his screwdriver on to the table as he walked over and crouched in front of her.

“I love every single version of you,” he whispered, leaning forward and pushing her hand that was holding the ice pop out of her face so he could kiss her gently.

“Good save,” Jas raised an eyebrow, smirking once he’d pulled away. “Now get back to it, Stevie! I love seeing you being all masculine and fixing things around my place. Such a turn on.”

“I’m not a piece of meat; I have feelings,” Steve quipped over his shoulder, but he did as she said anyway.

She blinked furiously, keeping her tears at bay by sheer force of will. Everything in her apartment reminded her of him, he was everywhere she looked. She could even see the outline of him sat in the armchair by the window, his body cast in shadows from the street lights shining outside.

Shaking her head, she switched the lamp next to the TV on and froze - she could still see Steve sat in the armchair, his eyes fixed on her and his hair mussed up from where he’d obviously been running his fingers through it, his eyes dark and tired as he rose from his seat.

Jas blinked.

Once.

Twice.

She reached up to rub at her eyes, and then she heard him chuckle.

“You aren’t seeing things, honey,” he told her, his voice deeper than she remembered.

That was all it took before she was clambering over the coffee table and practically throwing herself into his arms, Steve catching her with a soft “oomf!”

“Are you really here?” Jas’ voice cracked.

“Yeah, I’m really here,” Steve whispered back to her, holding her against him as she buried her face in his chest, his arms wrapped around her as he dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted, her voice muffled by his shirt. “So much, Stevie. Thought I was gonna have to sell my damn apartment because I saw you everywhere I looked; my key bowl, the coat hooks, that stupid shower curtain-”

“Still don’t understand why you didn’t already have a shower curtain,” he scoffed. “The bathroom damn near flooded every morning.”

Jas pinched his stomach. “Shut up.”

Steve laughed quietly, taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers, Jas grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt to hold him as close to her as possible, as though she was afraid he would disappear if she let go of him.

“Love you,” he murmured against her lips.

“Love you too,” she murmured back, her arms around his shoulder as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again. “How long are you here for? Is it safe? Have you heard from Nat? What’s gonna happen with Sam and Wanda and Clint and the little insect guy? How’s Bucky doing-?”

“Okay, slow down, sweetheart,” Steve pulled back slightly, placing his hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her with a small, uncertain smile. He sighed, his hands travelling down her arms until he took her hands in his and pulled her to sit on the couch with him. “Let’s just… Let’s sit for a while, and we can talk. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Jas followed him wordlessly, allowing him to guide her into the seat beside him, his hands still holding on to hers. She was tempted to pinch herself - she had imagined Steve showing up so many times in the last weeks that she couldn’t be certain she hadn’t gone mad and was merely hallucinating him being sat on her couch, his warm hands encasing hers and his eyes searching her face.

Tony would lose his mind if he knew that-

“Oh shit,” Jas’ eyes widened. “Steve. There might be people watching my building - Tony told me that if you called I had to keep the conversation short, in case anyone was trying to track you using my phone, he’s-”

“Tony’s giving you tips on how to see me?” Steve interrupted with a frown. “I’m not sure I buy that. Maybe he’s the one tracking your phone.”

“You underestimate how miserable I’ve been these past few weeks, and how utterly annoying I get when I’m bored because literally all of my friends are on the run,” she scoffed. “I think Tony is about ready to just willingly hand me over to you, in person, and help you escape if it means he never has to listen to me talk about another episode of Desperate Housewives for as long as he lives.”

“You can’t tell him I was here.”

“I’m not going to,” Jas shook her head. “I won’t tell anyone anything. Whatever happens here is between you and me; no one else. Tell me what’s going on, Steve.”

Pausing, Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed, before nodding slowly. “T’Challa’s sister, Shuri. She’s going to help Bucky be… Bucky again. She’s going to get rid of everything Hydra put into his head.”

“That’s good, right?” Jas asked hopefully. “How is he?”

“Frozen.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Cryogenic sleep,” Steve began. “While Shuri works on getting everything out of his head. It’s the only way to be sure he doesn’t go full Winter Soldier again - it was his call, Jas. He had to make the choice for himself; no one forced it on him. I didn’t- I would never make him do anything like that.”

“No, hey,” Jas reached out, her hand on his cheek. “I know you wouldn’t, Steve. I know you only want what’s best for him and I’m sure he knows that, too.”

“I hope so,” Steve muttered, resisting the urge to nuzzle into her palm.

“What about the others? Nat and everyone?”

“Nat’s okay,” Steve nodded his head. “She’s… There’s a whole story. She’s been through it, Jas. I’ll let her tell you whenever you see her next.”

“Uh-huh…” she paused, her eyes narrowed suspiciously as her hand dropped back to her lap. “And the others? Sam, Clint, Wanda? What aren’t you telling me, Steve?”

He sighed heavily, pulling his gaze away from hers. He should have known she would pick up on his reluctance to mention the other’s who had helped him - Team Cap, Sam had christened them. Jas had a particular soft spot for Clint, and Steve knew she would have asked about him. He should have been better prepared, had a lie ready to fall past his lips, but instead all he could do was avoid looking her in her eyes and grip her hand a little bit tighter than before.

“…It’s best if you don’t know,” he admitted softly. “If you don’t know anything, you can’t get blamed for it.”

“Steve-”

“Please don’t ask me to tell you, Jas,” he shook his head. “I won’t. I can’t. I have to do what I can to keep you out of this, to protect you from the fallout of my actions”.

“Look at me,” Jas placed a hand on his cheek again, turning his head and forcing him to face her. “They’re my friends, too, so you need to tell me - what can I do to help?” she asked. “I’ll do whatever you need. I can’t sit around and wait, Steve. I’m no good at it. You should know that better than anyone.”

Steve chuckled. “I do know, but I can’t risk anything happening to you,” he told her, his chest tightening at the mere thought of Jas being hurt because of something he’d done.

No. He had to keep her safe, above all else. She was the one thing he had left worth fighting for, and he would protect her at all costs, even if that meant leaving her behind.

He swallowed at the thought, his breathing faltering slightly.

“Hey,” Jas tapped his thigh with her index finger gently to get his focus back on her. “I can see you getting lost in your head, Rogers. I know you’re worried, but nothing bad is going to happen to me or anyone else, Steve. I’ll always be here, you’ll always have me, whether you like it or not. Please let me help you help them.”

Steve reached for her, easily picking her up and sliding her into his lap. “Just tell me everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered hoarsely, his forehead resting on her shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Jas whispered back, running her fingers through his hair and kissing the top of his head. “Wanna know how I know that?”

“Because I’m Captain America.”

“No,” Jas snorted, tugging on the ends of Steve’s hair to force his head up. She placed a hand on his chest, just over his heart. “It’s because you’re Steve Rogers, and he’s the best person I’ve ever known. He’s the guy who will never stop fighting for what’s right. Never has done.”

“I- I love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie,” she hummed, kissing his forehead. “How long do we have?”

“Not long. Nat is coming back for me in a few hours.”

“Hmmm,” she pulled his head back to her shoulder and sighed. “And then? When will I see you again?”

Steve pulled back, looking up at her apologetically. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “I think we’re gonna have to keep moving for a while.”

“I could come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me,” Jas shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m offering. I can’t just not do anything and watch you walk away, Steve. I can’t watch you leave me.”

Steve’s arms tightened around her waist and he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m not leaving you. Not ever. I would never leave you, Jas. I mean it when I say that I love you. I might not be around for a while but… I’ll always be here for you, too,” he repeated her earlier promise with a small, soft smile. “You’ll always have me, for as long as you want me.”

“Forever?”

Steve chuckled. “If that’s what you want, one day.”

“Sure is, Stevie,” she slipped her arms around his neck and shuffled as close to his chest as she could get. “How about you just stay the night with me for now, hmm? Call Nat and tell her to get you a little later. You can go before sunrise; no one will see you. You still have your trusty cap and sunglasses here.”

“My favourite disguise,” he smirked. “I’ll stay the night. I’ll do anything you ask me to, sweetheart.”

“Anything, huh?” Jas grinned back at him, the tips of fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “That’s a big promise, Rogers. Don’t make it if you can’t keep it.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, his hands snaking up underneath her t-shirt, his palms warm against her back. “There’s a lot we can do in one night.”

“Not enough if it means I wake up and you’re not here.”

“I’ll wake you before I leave,” he murmured against her lips, pressing his mouth to her. “Promise I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Better hadn’t, or I will use every form of technology at my disposal to hunt your ass down; I have so many vacation days saved up, it will be easy to follow you across the world just to yell at you.”

He laughed again. “I don’t doubt it for a second, sweetheart,” he cooed, Jas shifting on his lap to get more comfortable as Steve gripped her waist tightly. “There, uh… There is something you could do for me. You said you wanted to help.”

Jas nodded once. “Anything, Steve.”

“Use some of those vacation days to go to Wakanda.”

Jas blinked. “What?”

“I need you to look after Bucky,” Steve explained. “He doesn’t… He has no one else, and I can’t be there for him. I want him to get to know you, for you to get to know each other. He’s my best friend and I want him to know how amazing my girlfriend is. Want him to meet you, officially.”

“When he isn’t trying to kill me, you mean?”

Steve sighed. “Yeah.”

“Hey, I’m kidding,” Jas pinched the skin of his neck gently. “I told you I’d do anything I could to help and I meant it, so sure. I’ll go keep Bucky company in Wakanda. He can tell me embarrassing stories about you and we can bond! It will be fun. I’ll become Bucky’s best friend. Hope you’re prepared for all the selfies I’ll send you of the pair of us.”

“You,” Steve nuzzled his nose into her neck. “Are incredible. How’d I manage to have someone like you in my life, huh?”

Jas beamed down at him. “Guess you’re just lucky, Rogers.”

taglist: @sgtbuckyybarnes @mer-writes @jewelswrites-ish @foxesandmagic @hiddenqveendom @lukespatterson @starcrossedjedis @if-you-onlyknew

Jas taglist: @ohhitherekatie @suethor @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

let me know if you want to me added/removed!

#ocappreciation #steve rogers x oc #marvel oc #steve rogers fanfiction #listen i just have a lot of feelings for steve rogers right now so i'm writing him and jas bc she is my favourite oc of mine #sorry bucky u can chill for a bit xo #fic: three little words #fic: start of an age #fic: band of thieves #SO MANY FIC TAGS BYEEE #series: long live #jas x steve

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taeyongtime · 4 years

Text

by chance we meet

genre: blind date!au | fluff

featuring: NCT’s Doyoung

word count: 3,713 words

a/n: inspired by the aggretsuko episode where retsuko meets her first boyfriend at a singles mixer. also happy late birthday to @chipsandwaffles <3

“A mixer?”

Your friend nods eagerly. “Yeah, we’re missing one more for our table of eight, wanna join?”

“Who’s going to this thing?” you frown, not wanting to attend if you weren’t going to know any of the other guests.

“Oh, just some of my boyfriend’s coworkers. Guys and girls alike if you prefer one over the other.”

“I don’t know…” The thought of going out on a Friday night to have dinner with complete strangers didn’t quite sit well despite not needing to wake up early for work the next day.

“I’m not really in the mood to meet new people right now…”

“Come on, don’t be such a party pooper! See you at seven!”

Without even the chance to object, you watch her go with a heavy sigh. As if the work week hadn’t been tiring enough, now you were metaphorically bound to attend a dinner you didn’t even want to go to. It’ll be easy to play hooky, but recalling the eagerness on your friend’s face when she brought up even the mere mention of a mixer…

Soft. You’d gotten too soft with her and it was time to put your foot down on being roped into any more of her schemes, really.

—

“You’re here!”

Waving a hand, you make your way over to the entrance of the restaurant she’d texted you earlier. A quaint little place not too far from your office, the wooden sign overhead boasts of soju and all-you-can-eat meats amid the chilly wind and darkened sky outside the establishment.

“Actually, I…”

“This way, they’re already inside!”

Again losing the chance to wiggle out of socializing, you finally relinquish yourself to the arm offered and pull open the door to let yourselves inside. The host quickly leads you to the reserved table and you see that there were already two girls and three other guys seated around an already-heated up grill. Recognizing no one, you sit at the seat saved for you and make small talk with the girl next to you, exchanging names and inquiring on where she worked before reaching a halt at any new topics to further the conversation.

“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

Getting up from your chair, you hurriedly look for the restroom and eventually find the little door at the very back, only to twist the doorknob without much luck in prying it open. Not hearing any sounds either, you knock twice and nearly fall when the door abruptly swings open and narrowly avoids hitting you in the face. Steadying yourself in the nick of time, you cast a glare at the guy who had just exited, mouth dropping in disbelief when he barely even acknowledges you and walks straight down the hallway.

Unbelievable. The audacity.

Mood now sour, you shuffle back to the table and find the guests in different seats. The girl you’d spoken with before is now talking to a guy so tall he can easily pass off as a tree had not he spotted you staring and offered a taciturn wave. All around, faces blur before your eyes and threads of conversation weave in and out your ears, tangling into a ball that threatens to trip up your feet if you weren’t careful. Spotting an empty seat, you quickly take it and pour yourself a shot of soju to avoid talking to more people. Not alone in the endeavor to deflect from social interaction, the guy two seats down looks awfully familiar as he does the same. Squinting to get a better look, you suddenly remember the incident at the bathroom and storm over, taking him completely by surprise.

“Can I… help you?”

You place your empty shot glass down and cross your arms in distaste.

“I believe you owe me an apology.”

He arches an eyebrow in question. “Excuse me?”

“You bumped into me outside the bathroom and just walked off like it was nothing!”

Realization is slow to sink in, and he rubs his neck awkwardly after it comes to mind.

“Ah, that… I didn’t see you then, my bad.”

“Hmm, you’re fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to hold grudges in the midst of enjoying a free meal. “At least you remembered, unlike some people.”

A low chuckle leaves his lips before he pours another shot of soju into his empty glass and then refills yours.

“That happened before? You being bumped into by the bathroom?”

“Sure.” You nod in thanks and drain the glass in one go. “One time it wasn’t even an accident.”

“Do tell. If you’re willing to share, of course.”

The first smile to grace your face since stepping into the restaurant brightens up your mood immediately and you take the bottle of soju, refilling the two empty shot glasses and holding yours up to toast.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

He does the same and gently taps your glass, clinking in cheers to a new friend at what had been a very unexpected turnout at the singles mixer.

“Doyoung. Likewise.”

—

You’d somehow spent the entire evening eating, drinking, and chatting with Doyoung, the guy surprisingly easy to talk to despite the sour first impression. He had also been dragged along to the mixer, but rather than to find a date, his reasons in attending were free food and drinks. Clearly the benefits had outweighed the costs of interacting with strangers in the process.

Perhaps you both had completely missed the point of the event, but enjoying delicious food was always a pleasure, even more so with a kindred spirit who was equally as understanding about the pointlessness in singles mixers.

“Met anyone cute last night?”

“I had a lot of soju and meat,” you answer without looking up from the files you needed to analyze. “Thanks for paying; the food was delicious.”

“That wasn’t the point!” your friend shrieks, hands grabbing the collar of your black blazer and shaking vigorously while speaking. “The point was for you to meet someone so you’re off the market!”

“Love is not all there is in the world,” you retort, prying her hands off. “Some of us are lucky in that department while others like me just naturally fall short.”

“That’s why I’m helping you meet more people!”

Five manicured fingers slam onto your desk. “Saturday, 6pm, my boyfriend’s place.”

“I’d rather die than third-wheel you and your Taeyongie.”

“He invited two of his most eligible coworkers after I told him I want to set something up for you. So you definitely won’t be third-wheeling.”

The intensity in her eyes is startling, so much so that you offer to get her a cup of water to calm down after making such a heated proposal to obtain your attendance at her little gathering.

“No, I’m fine. But Saturday, make sure to clear your schedule for dinner.”

“This is the last blind date you’re setting up for me,” you warn, promising to save Saturday evening for her event. “I appreciate the gesture, really I do, but you can’t force these things.”

“Fine,” she sighs, nodding in understanding. “I won’t set you up for more blind dates or drag you to any mixers if you want to let these things happen naturally.”

“That’s not exactly what I said, but thank you.”

“You’re my friend, silly. Friends look out for each other.”

◇

Saturday arrived sooner than you expect and here you are, standing before #3622 of the apartment unit your friend cohabited with her boyfriend. Checking that your outfit wasn’t out of place and makeup not smeared during the rush to arrive on time, you take a deep breath and press the bell. The chime travels within and brings the sound of shuffling footsteps and creak of the door frame soon after the initial ring.

“Finally!”

The excited screech from inside audible from the front door, you exchange with the boyfriend who had opened said door and he shrugs.

“She’s like that,” he smiles, waving you in. “Please, come in.”

Hanging up your coat on the rack adjacent to the shoe cabinet that housed a mix of sneakers, high heels, and other styles telling of a cohabiting couple, you place your shoes on the side and cringe a little at the dark blue bunny socks snug around your feet. Fingers crossed, hopefully no one would notice.

“Cute socks,” Taeyong adds before making his way to the kitchen. “They look just like the pair my girlfriend has.”

A wave of embarrassment washes over your face immediately, already caught when you had harbored the hope that your socks would go undetected.

“Thanks,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a grunt at the whirlwind that crashes into you and hugs you so close that you find it hard to breathe.

“I can’t breathe.”

“You’re here!” your friend squeals, a sound that threatens to dull your eardrums to oblivion at the close proximity. “Thanks for showing up; I genuinely thought you’d bail on me!”

“We’re friends,” you remind her, spotting an opening to wiggle out of the hug. “Plus, I promised.”

“Come, come, I’ll introduce you while Taeyongie makes dinner.”

She leads you to the living room, the black leather couch with enough occupancy for three already occupied by one other.

“This is Doyoung. Doyoung, Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung.”

“You again?” comes the simultaneous chime at seeing each other’s faces.

“You’ve met before?”

“At the mixer,” you explain, not expecting the unexpected twist of Doyoung being Taeyong’s coworker. “We met there.”

“Well, make yourselves at home and I’ll let you know when food’s ready.

“Small world,” she murmurs, letting you talk with Doyoung while she skips to join her boyfriend in the kitchen.

You turn to Doyoung awkwardly and he’s just as flustered, not knowing what to say as you take a seat next to him.

“So,” you begin, “You work with Taeyong.”

“Yeah,” he nods tersely. “Finance.”

“I’m an accountant,” you reply in kind. “Basically the same department.”

“Sure.”

The tension ever growing with each passing second of silence, your eyes wander around and lock in on an opened box of chocolates on the coffee table. On cue, a low growl emits from your empty stomach and your ears pick up a low snort from Doyoung’s end.

“I didn’t eat beforehand,” you mumble in your defense, grabbing the box and uncovering the lid. Six pieces of decadent chocolates wink up at you, waiting to be eaten.

“You think they’ll mind if I take one?”

“No,” he replies, “I’ll have one too so you’re not the only one responsible.”

Liking his answer, you share the box with him and end up eating four of the six pieces before finding the willpower to talk to him again.

“Here for free food like last time?”

“Partly,” he divulges, leaning back onto the couch. “Taeyong’s a pretty good cook.”

“The other reason?”

“I have nothing else to do.”

The burst of giggles that escape your mouth shifts the topic away from Doyoung and he is quick to send the question back.

“And you? You can’t be here just to steal your friend’s chocolates.”

“This was supposed to be a setup for me to meet some prospective blind dates,” you reveal, still in the midst of catching your breath. “I… I promised my friend I’d show up.”

“Blind date,” he echoes, “That would make sense as to why there were so many people at the restaurant.”

“It was a singles mixer,” you exclaim, dumbfounded at his slow realization. “Why else did you think there were strangers all gathered together at a table?”

“I thought they were just other friends of Taeyong’s. He’s super popular at work; I can only imagine how it must be outside of work.”

“Heard my name.” A head pops in from around the corner. “Need anything?”

“We’re good,” Doyoung speaks up. “Are you good?”

Taeyong reaches his hands behind his back and unties the string of the blue apron over his white tee.

“Johnny couldn’t make it, so it’s just you two eating with us.”

“A double date?” you whisper under your breath. “What a scam.”

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“Nothing,” you blurt quickly, bumping Doyoung’s elbow. “We’ve been eating your chocolates while waiting; hope you don’t mind.”

“They’re quite good,” Doyoung joins in, picking up on your signal for help. “Where’d you buy them?”

“Homemade,” Taeyong replies, “Hopefully you two didn’t eat all of it when I’m already done with dinner.”

The last two pieces of chocolate are quickly shifted to the front of the case to give the illusion that there were still plenty, and Doyoung strategically places the lid at an angle so only said pieces are seen upon first glance.

“Go,” he whispers, ushering you out. “I’ll be right behind you.”

—

Can it be fate’s call that Doyoung is the one?

You’d already met him on two blind dates, both instances completely by chance that he would be the one you chose to engage with. Great minds that think alike, the vibes between the two of you went along the same wavelength, as if you’d known him forever—even though that wasn’t the case at all. Was he really the one to take you off the market when you’d been available for so long?

After Saturday’s dinner, he had offered to take you home even though his apartment was in the opposite direction and nearly stayed the night if he didn’t bring up the fact that he would miss the last train should the discussion on the joys of eating all of your friend’s chocolates continue further. Letting him go and texting to meet up again the next day, he was prompt to accept the invitation, even returning the gesture for dinner next Friday at another barbecue restaurant for drinks and all-you-can-eat meats. The back-and-forth invitations persisted for a good month, yet neither you nor he ever asked the question about making the relationship as one of more than friends.

Did he not like you back? Or was it all just a misinterpretation of what was clearly becoming a close-knit friendship?

—

“So… anything happen between you and Doyoung?”

“We’re friends now, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

The disgruntled noise above your head elicits an eyeroll and you tune out the incoming rant about wasting a good friend’s efforts in helping you find the love of your life.

“Are you even listening to me?” she whines, waving her newly manicured hands over your computer screen.

“You painted your nails pink this time.”

“Mean!” She leaves you alone and you can practically see the pout and protruding tongue on her face as you watch her go. Returning your attention to the stack of reports waiting to be reviewed, an hour or so easily flies by. Before you know it, the entire office is empty and dark save the little desk light shining next to your canister of pens. So absorbed you were that you hadn’t even noticed everyone else had already gone home while you were still looking through financial reports.

“Maybe I’m working too hard…”

Grabbing your jacket and briefcase, you remember to lock the doors before taking the elevator down to the main lobby. The security guard on night duty gives a slight nod before holding open the door, and you step out into the chilly cold of the night. No wind, but the relatively thin pants and white blouse on top do little to offer much warmth.

“You have a jacket, you know.”

Turning around, you nearly drop your briefcase at the sight of the figure standing not too far from the curb. In Doyoung’s hand is a cup of coffee, which he promptly offers after you put on your jacket.

“You’re finally clocked out,” he begins, gesturing at the dark office building. “I was thinking you had overtime after everyone left and I didn’t see you.”

“How do you know where I work?” you ask, enclosing both hands around the coffee cup to obtain as much heat emanating from the hot liquid.

“I followed Taeyong when he said he was going to pick up his girlfriend from work today.”

“Ah…”

You take another sip of coffee and he asks if you’d be willing to have dinner with him, the offer too tantalizing to reject when he promised to be the one paying. Giving him the choice of location, you’re even more surprised when he brings you to take the train, getting off at a stop not too far from what looked to be a food fair. Tents propped up along every inch of the path boast of local street foods and drinks while people enjoying the park or who have already bought food sit on blankets by the grassy meadows overlooking the large riverbank.

Not what you had expected when he said he’d treat you to a meal.

“There’s a food fair tonight,” he explains, naturally pulling you closer as hordes of people push past to reach their favorite stalls. “Anything you want, you pick and I’ll pay.”

You lick your lips in anticipation, prepared to empty his entire wallet.

“Anything I want?”

“Anything,” he laughs, “My wallet has enough to fill you up until you explode.”

“Even lobster?”

Doyoung follows your line of sight to the stall selling grilled cheese lobster, already knowing it would be the first thing you wanted since it was the most expensive item at the fair.

“Get me one too.”

Never one to enjoy crowded areas, tonight is an exception that you find yourself enjoying immensely as you hop from stall to stall with Doyoung right behind. Lobster, spicy rice cakes, meat skewers, fried dumplings, the choices are endless at every corner you turn. Not to be outdone, Doyoung is always one step ahead of you with wanting to try something else when you hadn’t even finished what you currently had on hand, and you eventually call it quits after buying a carton of banana milk from the convenience store to quench your throat from all the hot food.

“I’m full,” you groan when he returns with two soft serves. “You’re going to have to eat those yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, sitting down on the grass. “The lady was kind enough to make these taller for me when I told her it was for my date.”

The word ‘date’ catches you off guard and you quickly look away, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll give it away if you’re sure you don’t want it.”

Extending a hand, you take the cone before he changes his mind and ignore the snicker from his end. The cold dessert is quick to melt despite the chilly air, or perhaps you were just too slow in eating it when you were still full from all the food you ate earlier.

“It’s dripping all over your fingers,” Doyoung nags, dabbing at your hands with a napkin. “Wait, I have another.”

As he wipes your hands clean with a stash of napkins from his jacket pocket, you study his angular face, not quite sure what about him was so captivating that you continued to stare even after he had finished cleaning off the melted soft serve.

“Something on my face?”

“No.”

“Oh. You kept staring at me, that’s why.”

“You… You’re quite handsome, Doyoung.”

“Are you drunk?” he laughs, pressing a hand against your forehead. “No, you’re fine.”

“Why… why did you call this a date?”

“I asked you out and you agreed. Does that not make this a date?”

“I mean…” You shift a little, legs growing numb from being seated in a prolonged position. “You never told me you liked me or anything.”

Now it is his turn to remain silent, and he takes his hand away before placing both palms on the grass and leaning back to look up at the night sky. Following his gaze, the smallest twinkle of a star sparks against the dark backdrop, and you point out another not too far from the first.

“Would it be too late if I told you now?”

“No,” you shake your head, voice growing small. “It’s never too late for that.”

He scoots closer and your hands touch, the sensation shooting up sparks of electricity that warm your face in the cold of the night. Turning towards him, you take a deep breath and press a chaste kiss against his cheek, equally as flustered at your boldness as he.

“So does this mean you’re fine with being my date?” he begins tentatively. “Not a blind date but as a forever kind of date?”

You smile, not at all surprised by his lingering doubt.

“What do you think, Doyoung? We’ve already had two blind dates and I’ve always showed up. Would I take precious time out of my busy schedule to meet with someone I don’t like?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’re the spiteful type that shows up just to reject me.”

Loud laughter echoes across the park, turning heads to the pair of new lovers who were starting to bicker amid the grassy knolls. Those who didn’t know only see the smiles and warmth in their eyes despite the breeze that blows past, the little bubble encapsulated around the two keeping them oblivious to the rest of the world.

—

“Another mixer?”

“Yeah! Go with me; there’s going to be free drinks!”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” you bring up, shutting down your computer and grabbing your jacket from the chair. “Why are you going when you already have your Taeyongie?”

Your friend pouts, blowing a raspberry at his name. “Don’t talk to me about him.”

“You two didn’t break up, did you?”

“No. He’s just working overtime again. For the third consecutive night.”

You let out a noise of understanding, then shake your head at the offer.

“I do enjoy free drinks, but tonight I’m going to pass.”

“Pass?” She follows you out of the office, heels clicking against the tiled floor. “You have plans tonight?”

“Yup.” Into the elevator you two go, and once the doors open down at the lobby, you step out and spot Doyoung immediately. He raises an arm to wave, holding up what looked to be a cup of coffee in his other hand.

“I can’t join you when my boyfriend’s here to pick me up from work.”

#neowritingsnet #nct scenarios #doyoung scenarios #nct imagines #doyoung imagines #nct #doyoung #nct fanfic #doyoung fanfic #nct fluff #doyoung fluff #it's been too long i forgot how to tag lmao

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letsperaltiago · 3 years

Text

supercut, i’ll be your favorite scene

Here it is: THE KITCHEN COUNTER FIC™️

Hope you guys like this pile of filth and feel free to share your 😌thoughts😌 in the tags or in my indbox/ask! I’d really love to hear them!! For context: takes place during Season 6, Episode 6: The Crime Scene!

Also do I need to make a disclaimer saying that I know Jake would never intentionally neglect Amy yada yada...? You know the drill.

Enjoy!

READ ON AO3 HERE (RATING E)

It had been going on for weeks now and by then it was safe to say that Amy was getting fed up with the situation. Ever since this mysterious, seemingly unsolvable case had started consuming Jake’s every thought, move and decision, Amy had felt somewhat neglected. Her husband was of course still, as always, sweet and caring but lately the case had completely overtaken his life and Jake spent more hours twisting and turning every clue than he spent being paying attention to Amy – or anything that wasn’t case files or clues, for that matter. It’s not that Amy needed attention, like some child screaming for affection, but she was worried for her husband’s health and, even if it felt silly to say, their intimate life.

Sure, they’d kiss good morning, goodbye and hello but especially the past few weeks Jake had more often than not fallen asleep atop of the case files at the dining table rather than in bed with her. Naturally Amy felt many things: impressed by her husband’s dedication and hard work but also worried and frustrated… in more than one way.

One night, another one of those spent alone in bed with Jake sitting at the dimly lit dining table, Amy was done being cool and reasonable; fact was that she missed her husband and she was shamelessly horny. It didn’t take long for her to make a decision: tonight, four drink-Amy, minus the drinks, was going to make an appearance.

“Hey, babe,” she spoke softly with a sweet, curious air, keeping her ulterior motives hidden, as she wandered into the living/dining-room in her pajamas and pink nightrobe. Her steps brought her up behind him and when he finally came within her reach, she made sure to slide her hands onto his shoulders with extra grace and tenderness, softly squeezing them to hopefully give him a taste of the tender touch he surely had a craving for though he currently was too stressed to act on “What are you doing?”

A beat of silence.

“Just working the case,” he mumbled tiredly sounding unaffected by her presence.

It was going to take more work than what she’d originally intended to put into it, but Amy was more than willing to put in the extra work; she did love a good challenge.

“I see that,” she added bending over to wrap her arms around his torso and rest her head on his shoulder as to get a closer look at his work… amongst other things. He was only wearing his flannel and boxers, perfect, she couldn’t help but think.

“You’re working so hard, babe,” she stated sweetly making sure it went straight into his ear. “Don’t you want to relax a bit?”

Her hands stroked his chest smoothly sliding over to play with the top buttons of his flannel, the same flannel he’d worn yesterday, she couldn’t help but notice. Alas this wasn’t the right moment to mention this.

“I can’t,” he flipped over a page to scribble down whatever information crossed his mind. “Not right now.”

“But that’s what you’ve been saying every day for the past few weeks now. Working yourself too hard won’t do you any good, you know… It can affect your way of thinking.”

A peck to his neck was basically Amy begging for his attention, for some kind of reaction to both her words and actions, but it never came.

“I’m fine, Amy. I just need to get this done.”

Scribbling and flipping of pages continued even so, as if she was air, and Amy, more than ever, was now growing awfully frustrated about the situation. Never before, at least while they’d been together, had Jake been blunt and cold towards her like this. Of course, she knew it wasn’t personal, and that it was all tied to the case and the promise he’d made to the victim’s mother, but still she couldn’t help but feel rejected. Rather than letting it get her down, it did the exact opposite and fueled her inner flame.

This problem was only not solved because it was demanding new, more bold, methods.

“But…” she swiftly as ever popped open a few buttons of his flannel “… don’t you think you would be able to think clearer…” she slid a hand down his now revealed chest before continuing to lure him in with sultry words and notes “…if you just let me help you feel good for a bit.”

Gosh, his skin felt so soft and so good, even after all these years, and oh how she just wanted to bite into it, scratch it red and raw with her fingers till both their hearts exploded.

“Amy, please. I love you but I need to keep working on this.”

Ouch. Her hand froze just above his belly button before removing itself. At least he said something kinda nice, she thought referring to the I love you, but this wasn’t enough. I love you wouldn’t have her writhing and screaming till climax.

First attempt was a lost cause but luckily, in a twisted way, Amy was furious and desperate. Vanishing back to their bedroom without another word, boiling with both lust and frustration, the woman proceeded to plan B; and plan she hadn’t really planned but quickly came up with. Said plan was hiding in a paper bag in the back of her closet and she’d actually planned on revealing it to him on Valentine’s day but enough was enough: now would have to be the right time.

Said plan started ten minutes later when she waltzed down the hall and back into the dining/living room wearing the same night robe as before. Only this time she was wearing something else underneath: something fiery red and shamelessly lacey.

“If you’re going to stay up all night drilling this…” Smooth, Amy. She planted a few candles on the table before him before lighting them, making sure to bend over just enough for the dip in her robe to reveal what was hiding underneath, “…then lets at least make it nice and cozy for you.”

“Thanks, babe, but no need to. Just go back to bed and I’ll join you there later.”

He didn’t look up, not as much as a quick glance and Amy could feel her blood beginning to simmer in her veins from wanting her husband’s attention and touch so badly. He couldn’t be serious? He couldn’t not notice how she was basically begging for him, could he?

With a firm grip, in one smooth motion, she pulled out the chair besides him and sat down before slowly untying the knot of her robe as her eyes watched him, attentive, hoping see his reaction when he saw the surprise she was presenting him.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she peeled apart the robe and let it slide off of her like ice cream melting on a sunny day. The fabric fell to the floor without a sound and there she sat, half-naked and more inviting than ever before in her life.

Not that she’d tried to be discreet before, but she was now so very obvious about her intention that he couldn’t possibly let it slide. And if she wasn’t obvious enough then the way the red silky fabric enhanced her skin’s warm undertones while the black, soft lace complimented the curves of her breasts and thighs certainly were. All things she’d considered upon picking out the set. The gleam from the candles danced in the reflection of the silky fabric and Amy Santiago was more than impossible to overlook.

“Why don’t you join me in bed… now?” She bit her lip smiling while her fingers played with a lock of her dark hair.

“Babe, I’m really trying to work here. Please.”

He almost sounded annoyed with her as he scrolled through his phone, looking for whatever could be more interesting than her.

Anti-climatic was not the word; this was way worse, Amy was sure of it.

How could he do this to her? There she sat, exposing herself, metaphorically and literally, and all he could think of was work! Maybe she should try to be reasonable, consider how he felt in his situation with this specific case, but enough was enough! She pushed herself out of the chair and stomped off to the kitchen. At first she didn’t know exactly why she headed to the kitchen… Perhaps she just wanted to get away from him but then again, she could’ve just gone to the bedroom. The doubt faded the minute she saw some unpacked groceries, more specific carrots, on the counter. Standing there in the kitchen in her very lingerie at 1 AM feeling like a sad, rejected porn star, she found her Plan C and felt that there was no other way. Amy Santiago did what she had to do: grabbed a bunch of carrots, picked out the tiniest, crummiest knife she could find, a cutting board and started chopping.

Noisily. Over and over again. Repetitive and loud.

“Ames, what are you doing?”

A reaction – good. She looked up, just barely, through her eyelashes only to be met by the sight of her husband still not caring enough to look at her properly.

“Felt like getting a snack, that’s all…”

She kept chopping, faster, harder and most importantly: louder. Carrot after carrot, way too many, but she figured they’d just eat it some other time. For now it was all about pestering him, getting on his nerves as he on hers. Ten seconds went by… Twenty… Thirty…

Chop. Chop. Chop.

“Amy-“

Another loud cut interrupted him. Amy didn’t even bother to cut into proper shapes or sizes. It was all about the sound.

Forty… Fifty…

“Amy, could you please stop!”

Finally.

She smiled to herself at the sound of his snarl, hearing the specific shade of Jake Peralta she’d waited for all night long. Her eyes were still glued to the carrots on the cutting board before her and, she knew, if she looked up, she’d see her husband stare right at her. God, she loved their open kitchen-dining room.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” She challenged hoping to make it the tipping point.

Then she looked up and as predicted, her husband was staring at her with a newly arrived squint and dark look in his eyes. It seemed as if his frustration had finally opened his eyes to what was really going on: his wife was in their kitchen almost completely naked, wearing only the skimpiest lingerie, and he’d been stupid enough to look past it. Their eyes met: his angry and storm full, hers playful and hungry, begging.

Right then and there a pin could’ve dropped to the ground and it would’ve made the ground shake and sound like an explosion. The tension was thicker than quicksand and it was only a matter of seconds, an unbearable staring contest, before the sound of Jake pushing back his chair cut through it like a knife.

He slowly walked, as if he was planning his every step, around the counter dividing the dining area and kitchen area, and Amy could feel herself beam with excitement at the muffled sound of his steps.

“What did you just say?” Jake’s voice was low, a few tones deeper than usual, something he only did when he was angry or during sexy timez. “Think twice before answering me.”

His hands slowly slid onto her almost naked hips feeling the arousing sensation of the lace beneath his fingers. She was trapped between him and the counter before her, on purpose, she could tell and God, she loved him like this. After years of being together it was no secret to either of them that Amy, as much as she enjoyed being dominant and in charge, loved playing the play of the submissive one, the one getting told what to do. Something, if put in the right mindset, her husband handled very well. Key word: handled. Tonight, she needed to be handled. By him… With care? No, they were way beyond stage. Amy was buzzing with impatience. This needed to be properly balanced with the nature of the moment; a tempered Jake who would not put up with being told what to do. Not tonight.

“I didn’t say-“ her breath hitched interrupting herself when she felt him lean his body against her from behind, leaving no room behind him and her, and her and the counter, before letting his right hand slide along the top hem of her panties. “I didn’t say anything. I was just c-cutting-“

His index finger tugged on the elastic hem.

“Cutting carrots,” she breathed out nervousl and he picked up on it.

“Is this cool? Safe word?” he quickly added.

“It’s perfect and ‘Manhattan’ as usual.”

“Okay good,” he pecked the shell of her ear as a sign of approval before picking up where they left off.

“Hmm,” he hummed removing his finger knowing it’d disappoint her. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

“Oh,” she whimpered in reaction to his words being breathed against her sensitive neck. While being distracted by his breathy taunts Amy had completely failed to notice the hand sliding down the right leg of her panty. Here, when down low enough, his index finger had crooked itself around the center section of the garment to pull it to the side and reveal her forlorn womanhood.

Tonight wasn’t going to be a long night of slow fucking, they both knew, but Amy was still surprised when she almost right away felt two fingers part her folds, automatically coaxing her into submission.

“I have barely touched you…” he spoke with a voice so soft and in no way is a match to the sinful activity happening further down her body, “…and you’re already this wet.”

No words, only sounds of strain and pleasure, were to come from Amy. Jake was in charge now and he would make the calls tonight. All she could do was wait and obey.

“You’ve been such an annoying little pest all night and I thought it was just because you were bored, when in reality- “

“Jake,” escaped her in the form of a breathy declaration, in a moment of weakness in reaction to his finger’s Godsent work, interrupting him and this usually wasn’t well received, not in a scene like the one they found themselves caught up in, but Jake was too pleased with the display of his effectiveness to reprimand her. Instead, he just smiled to himself and made sure to stroke the exact same spot over and over again feeling her get weak in her knees.

“When in reality you just, so desperately, need to be fucked.”

To prove his point, he leaned a bit more of his weight onto her forcing her midriff up against the counter. His fingers still had room to work thus moving with more and more ferocity.

“Am I right, Amy?”

Eyes closed, mouth agape and head bent back to rest against his shoulder, it was safe to say that Amy was in another world. Yes, she heard the loud rumbling that was the sound of his voice, but his fingers were louder than anything else happening at that moment. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had her trapped she would’ve been grinding for more, used her body to get a better feel of his touch. Alas she’d have to earn it some other way.

“Amy,” he scolded bringing her attention back to his demands. “Tell me. Am I right?”

His hand not stroking her heat slowly started playing with the upper edges of her panties, pushing them down her curves in the process.

“Y-yes,” came out in a voice so breathy that the word was barely audible, and Jake could only just hear it because he stood as close to her as he did.

“Thought so,” he bluntly approved her answer and removed his fingers from her heat to allow himself to push the panties down entirely, letting them to fall off of her and onto the cold kitchen floor. Amy could feel the bulge in his boxers pressed against her now bare ass and it killed her to not be able to grind against it, to feel it properly.

“So…” he used his now wet fingers, glistening with her juices, making sure to trail them across her skin, to slowly push her hair to the side and leave him room to kiss the back of her neck. “Now that you’ve so selfishly interrupted me and the important work I was doing, just because you just can’t behave and wait to get fucked…”

Amy’s voice hitched, loudly even, in reaction to his words. Dirty talk had definitely moved up a few spots on her favorites list when her and Jake got together; he was so good at it and it made her want to play along.

“… there are two ways things can go now: either you pull yourself together like a good girl, let me get back to work and wait in bed…”

Amy did not like the sound of that. Nonetheless she bit her tongue and instead of fighting him she focused on the soft feeling of her husband’s breath dancing against her sensitive skin as his hands stroked her stomach, slowly inching themselves upwards towards her breasts.

“… or I give you what you need. Right here, right now.”

There was a moment of silence where Amy considered whether she should actually answer or let him make a choice for her. Did he want her to speak up or was it a trap?

“Tell me, Amy,” he scowled at the exact same moment as his hands reached her chest and latched themselves onto her still lace-clad breasts. “Tell me what you need. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“N-now, p-please” her stutters were weak, but they were there and she could only hope it was enough. They held so much desperation and honesty.

Meanwhile Jake feverously caressed her breasts, pinching her nipples through the thin, lacy material. Then, quickly running out of patience, he basically ripped the straps and cups down as to finally gain full access to this part of her he loved so much.

“Okay,” he pecked the back of her neck. “Can’t believe you’re so desperate that I get to fuck you right here on the counter.”

Jake definitely sounded smug, pleased with the situation, and Amy would’ve been be lying if she’d said she didn’t feel the same way… even though she couldn’t say it. They’d had sexcapades in the kitchen before but never like this and Amy was filled to the brim with excitement.

“God, I wanna see you on your knees with your lips stretched around me so bad but you’re just so ready for me, Ames… It’s too good to put off for much longer. Can you feel how ready I am for you?”

In case she hadn’t already noticed his hard on pressed against her bare ass Jake grinded into her and Amy very quicky came to hate his boxers even more, wishing she could just rip them off of him, and definitely let out a whimper at the needed touch. The full control he had over her was both everything she wanted and everything she dreaded; all she could do was hope that he’d fulfill her wishes for her.

Finally, as if a shooting had crossed the sky and heard her wishes, she felt one of his hands move away from her breast and relocate to push down the cursed material that kept her from being able to feel him properly. An outline trapped behind fabric was always promising but nothing could ever beat the feeling of Jake’s freed length.

“So ready…” he mumbled under his breath as he, impressively so, used one hand to fiddle open the clasp of her bra while the other was busy stroking his length. Given their current position there were things he had to take care of himself – many things, apparently. With both of his hands being busy paying attention to something that wasn’t her, Amy honestly wasn’t too pleased with the situation even though she knew it would pay off; she could already imagine, almost feel, the cool surface of their marbled countertop pressed against her torso causing goosebumps to rise across her entire body.

Thud. Finally, the strain around her chest disappeared as her bra joined the rest of their (limited) garments on the kitchen floor, soon to be forgotten by both Jake and Amy. Jake did still have his flannel on, barely hanging on by one closed button, but the parts of them that mattered were free and ready for tonight’s purpose.

She felt him take a tiny step back, away from her, and she was just about to let out a whine when suddenly her entire body quaked in response to his right hand giving her ass a firm squeeze before allowing it to run all the way up her spine, slowly and with great intentions in mind.

“Bend over.”

If only Amy could tell herself from ten years ago that she would end up marrying a man whose words could make her body and world tremble… The perfect two words, said so bluntly, demanding, had her convinced the second they fell from his lips.

She obeyed, with his hand on her back guiding her forwards, and soon she found herself looking out at their living/dining room from her new position: bent over their kitchen counter.

Jake’s hand continued its journey up her back, all the way up to her shoulder where he gave it a tiny affectionate squeeze before leaning down and pecking the back of her neck.

“Okay, babe?”

“Y-yes, perfect,” she whimpered, impatient, struggling to retain her recklessness.

“You look so good.”

The unequivocal sound of his palm patting her full ass cheek echoed in the kitchen. Even when trying to convey the need to ask for more into grabbing onto the counter, to a point where her knuckles turned white, holding back a whimper was out of her hands.

“Soon, babe. I just can’t get over how fucking good you look bent over like this...”

Another pat, a strike more appropriately so, to her other ass cheek let Amy know that he was definitely testing her patience and willingness to stay silent. He loved the frustration he knew she was battling with inside; mainly because he knew she’d never break because Amy Santiago’s desire to please and obey was stronger than the feeling of despair and need.

“… Bent over and desperate for me to touch you.”

Jake’s low, rumbling voice, the way an almost animalistic side of him shone through his words, was enough to keep Amy going. Although she did quickly take a preference upon feeling a sudden overwhelming burst of warmth and stimulus shoot through her when his fingers switched their attention from her ass to her folds, slowly running two fingers back and forth through them as to assemble as much moisture as possible.

Pleased with himself at the sound of a high-pitched and dragged out Oh there was no stopping him. Slowly torturing them both, mostly her, he kept working her open with his fingers as small moans and squeals dropped from her lips. His other hand kept a firm hold of her hip. Amy was off in another world, trembling at the feeling of his fingers finally doing to her what she’d been craving for for so long now. Her hands slowly turned sore from holding on so tightly to the counter under her, but she didn’t care. Everything felt so good and she’d die if it were to stop if she disobeyed or accidentally disregarded Jake’s wishes and plans.

All of the sudden, ready to whine at the loss of his fingers but quickly interrupted, Amy felt a strong hold of her hips from both of his hands and then, even better, herself being stretched around her husband’s cock. To hell with the consequences, Amy let out the loudest “quiet” moan she dared. The sensation washing over her was too much, too good, to keep quiet about however it helped that she expressed herself cheek pressed down into the cool kitchen counter.

“Yes,” Jake hissed pushing himself all the way in. “Fuck, you’re the best thing, babe.”

She felt a hand, once again, run up the length of her back as he shuffled on the spot to adjust himself inside of her. The stretch ceased for a brief second but immediately came back, this time for good, repeating itself in a steady pattern that had the entire front of Amy’s body, from her knees hitting the lower kitchen cupboards to the face rubbing up against the cool marble, following the given rhythm. The sound of their bodies slapping together, Amy’s skin drumming against their counter to the beat of his repetitive thrusting as well, came together like an obscene symphony. Only one thing was missing, and he knew why: she was waiting for permission like the good girl she was.

Bending over her so far that his chest ran parallel with her back, almost skin against skin, Jake made a makeshift ponytail with his wife’s soft, dark hair and, keeping in mind to stay careful, forced Amy’s head off the counter and back. Amy hissed, the pain and pleasure coming together, and she was finally in the perfect position for him to whisper into her ear.

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”

The observation, rather the implicit demand, went straight to her already extensive drive and with her head held up by his hand in her hair, Amy allowed her sounds of pleasure to fall freely from her lips and accompany the repetitive sound their body’s coming together, over and over, skin to skin, skin to wood, skin to stone.

“Oh- oh- ohmygod yes,” came tumbling out of her like the world was collapsing inside of her and having straightened back up, still with a hold of Amy’s hair, Jake could only admire the scene before him as he felt the stressful case and immense pressure melting away. After this he would definitely have to apologize for being so absent lately but for now, they probably needed this more than anything else.

“Y-yes, baby. Feel so good around me.”

Every word, every sound, every move was punctuated by a thrust, one after the othert, speed and force slowly increasing as a momentum built and both parties fell into and drowned in an endless pool of longing and passion.

“Was this what you wanted when you decided you were going to act like a fucking brat?”

A tug on the makeshift ponytail demanded that Amy listen even though she knew he might not necessarily want an answer from her - at least not a vocal one.

“Was is worth it? Tell me.”

Another tug on her hair, definitely demanding an answer, and his fingers digging into her fleshy hips earned him a small cry of submission that almost had him coming right there on the spot. Alas he stayed focused and steady. He wasn’t ready to let go yet, and neither was she. Just the way he wanted it and the way she loved it.

“Y-yes,” she just barely managed to stutter between thrusts, too far gone to make out a longer sentence, even though she was dying to tell him just how good he made her feel and how she’d missed him inside of her.

“Can’t believe all it takes to shut you up is a good fuck,” he accused her, but she could tell he was not so secretly loving it, simply saying it, making it sound filthy, because he had needed it just as badly as her. “So desperate you’ll take it anywhere…”

He trailed off, out of breath from snapping his hips back and forth into her with hefty momentum that had both his and her legs shaking. Although, he knew, he wasn’t quite done with her yet. There might’ve been beads of sweat running down her arched back, red marks on her arms from the rubbing of the counter and beginning knots where he held onto her hair, but it couldn’t be over yet.

Using the last surge of energy, he had left in him, Jake decided to let go of his wife’s hair and used the now freed hand to give her ass one last spank, one whose loud snap and following whine bounced off the kitchen walls. Besides that, nothing was said and Jake was pleased.

“No complaining, huh? You just know that you always look so much better when I mark you up.”

It was hard to tell since her entire body jerked every time he reentered her however Jake was sure: she nodded. He stroked the fresh redness of her ass before hunching over her still very much bent over figure. The new curve of his body to ran along hers, his chest to his back, and gave him the opportunity to take a hold of her hands where they were still clinging onto the kitchen counter’s edge for dear life. Now he could help his thrusts by pulling into her.

“I’m so close, Ames. So fucking close.”

He readjusted as to be able to whisper directly into her ear.

“You look so good bent over like this… All for me…”

“O-only for you,” she managed to stutter.

“But I want to be able to see your face when you cum.. So hard like never before,” he marked his point by gathering some extra force to thrust just a bit deeper and the small scream it derived was worth it. Although he had already (kind of) warned her Amy felt like dying the second he so brutally pulled out of her completely. It was all soon forgotten though; the second he pulled her back up straight, spun her around and lifted her, almost entirely by himself, up to sit on the counter. Before Amy could fully comprehend what was happening, he had her face cupped in his hand and their eyes locked.

Amy could’ve sworn what he did and said next was the sexiest thing he’d ever done to her: without letting go of her face, neither her eyes, he used his free hand to push her thighs apart and around him.

“Now don’t you dare look away.”

Without further explanation he grabbed his cock and guided it back into her, once more appeasing her with the feeling of being filled to the brim by him. It was far from as easy or smooth as their previous position, but they fell back into a enjoyable pattern of movements. Before they knew it Amy was back to whimpering at every thrust, her magic spot struck over and over again. She was shrieking her pleas as he kept their eyes locked and there was no escaping it. The hand holding her face snuck a thumb across her dry lips, furthermore, causing them to part and welcome his finger past the edge and into the mouth he was dying to kiss.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look like this?” he praised enjoying the wet sensation around his thumb and the muffled effect on her whimpers it had before removing his hand, to her disappointment, only to then please when he put it to better use down between her legs. “And you’re going to look even hotter when you fall apart around me, understood?”

“Y-yes,” she croaked with eyes slowly beginning to flutter closed. “I- I’m so close, baby.”

“Me too,” he breathed heavily as he saw her eyes shut as his fingers played with her clit, wishing and yearning to take her where they both wanted to be. “Now look at me,” he demanded using his free hand to once again grab her jaw and reposition her face as to be sure she was looking directly into his eyes as he felt himself come closer to his climax.

He picked up the pace, the slaps of their skin becoming louder, and Amy immediately reacted by grinding harder onto both his cock and fingers meanwhile her mouth let every deep, sinful emotion pour out of her as a messy ode to her own climax.

“R-right there, ugh- yes! Faster, harder-“

“I’m gonna cum, babe. Right now,” he exclaimed.

“Y- yes, inside of me. Keep going,” she begged afraid that his climax would interrupt God’s work he was doing on her.

“Ye-“ he was cut off by his own climax which caused his head to shoot back and a groan from the deep of his gut. Although Amy had nothing to fear: even through his climax Jake kept up his pace, mostly with his fingers, and not too long after he had Amy writhing and gasping for on the counter.

“Come for me, babe. All over me.”

He was slowly coming down from his own climax and passionately coaxed his unravelling wife through their shared euphoria, listening and staring into her eyes as she crumbled around him.

After a few moments of aftershock in the shape of shuttering, gasping and whimpering, the room fell silent and time seemed to stand still. By then Amy had slumped forward, completely drained, leaning her head onto his shoulder meanwhile the cool night temperature of the room started to get to her. Small goosebumps danced all over her body.

For a bit they just let it be, let the moment stand on its own, giving Jake the time to run his hands all over his wife’s shaky, beautiful body that he loved oh so much.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so absent lately. I hope you know that it has nothing to do with you.”

Although it was a statement and a fact rather than a question, Jake definitely wanted and needed to know if she knew that it was so.

“I know.”

He could feel and hear her smile because that’s how stupid well he knew her.

“Good. Still want to say I’m sorry though,” he smiled into the top of her head before pecking it and getting a small taste of the sweat they’d both built up. “…And I promise that I won’t let work control me like this again.”

Silence. A beat.

“I really appreciate you saying that. Thank you…”

She turned her head so that she could kiss his lips and, just an hour ago, Amy might’ve thought he was the most annoying, stubborn human on earth and maybe he was… But now she was also once again sure of the fact that no one could or ever would love her like her husband does.

#I CANT BELIEVE I WROTE THIS #who am i even...#anyways here we finally gooo #jake x amy #jake and amy #peraltiago #brooklyn nine-nine #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #smut #jake peralta #amy santiago #fic #fanfiction #fanfic #peraltiago smut #peralta #Santiago

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

Cosmonauts

Summary: You always call Tim space related nicknames. No one knows why.

A/n: This is technically a follow up to Art Gallery Smile but it can be read on its own. This was posted on mobile so Idk how bad it got formatted. Will edit when I get to my laptop.

Warnings: mentions of panic attack and anxiety. No graphic detail but just in case. (Yes, I gave Tim anxiety. Fight me.)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“IT WAS ZOMBIE ADJACENT,” Roz protests, shoving another one of Tim’s fries into her gaping maw in a vain attempt to stop the petulant pout retching its way to her lips. You roll your eyes hard enough that your entire head follows along with their movement, taking a nibble of your own fries. Roz scowls, mouth twitching the way yours does (4 times to the left and 4 and a half times to the right) it was honestly the only way to tell that you two were related in any shape or form.

“It wasn’t even close, you deep-fried stick of margarine,”

“It shambled, didn’t it?”

“So does Space Case over here when you don’t funnel enough caffeine into his system, what’s your point?” You bite out leaning back, slinging your arm over the back of the bench and over Tim’s shoulder making his breath hitch. Tim can feel his skin heat up. For once, he’s thankful for just how much Roz hordes your attention. He’s starting to run out of excuses for the color of his cheeks. Not that you ever fell for any of it from the way you hummed every time he stammered out his excuse.

Based on the way your hand flexes and not so subtly moves away, you noticed his flush but made no comment. Instead, you grin- all sharp teeth and cocksure and smug bastard- leveling your older cousin a look which roughly translated to ‘Checkmate, motherfucker’. Despite his apprehension, Tim can’t help the smile that twitched on to his lips. Your eyes flickered to him. It might just be his imagination but Tim was pretty sure he saw fondness chip away at your smug grin. Tim kind of wants to lean into your arm but instead, he leans forward pretending to pay attention hiding his smile in his hands. His face is gonna get tired from smiling too much around you.

"It wasn't even close,"

"It was freaky looking,"

"Damn woman, you're being real judgy there,"

“Back me up here Duckie!” Roz screeches, shoulders hiking up making her look like a frazzled cat about to hiss pulling Tim away from his reverie. You roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head while Steph just snorts. Tim sighs. None of you have stopped calling him ‘Duckie’ or ‘Ducktective’ after that stint of being ‘Drake’. Admittedly, it wasn’t his best idea but you didn’t have to laugh that hard and slap your knee. When you were done laughing, you vehemently protested the name change by wearing your precious, well-kept, one of a kind Red Robin hoodie for the duration of the ‘Drake’ thing. You had said it was to bring him back to his senses (sense of fashion). Maybe you just wanted to fluster him. He certainly couldn’t put it past you. It worked. Oh, it definitely worked. Now, all he could think about was how nice you looked in his colors which inevitably lead him to think about how nice you would look in his shirts, in his clothes- Damn it. He’s doing it again.

Roz clears her throat. It is loud and rough and it makes all of you wince despite the already loud atmosphere of the cafeteria. Really what does Roz expect him to say? One, Tim wasn’t fully paying attention. How could he when you two are smooshed together on a cramped cafeteria bench with you still wearing your Red Robin hoodie? Tim’s surprised he isn’t keeling over. Two-

“See! Even our darling-” Tim’s brain short circuits. “Space Cadet can’t even defend your bullshit,” you laugh reaching over to Roz’s drink leaning a little too close to Tim’s face. He can almost feel the heat radiating off your skin.

If I lean in just a little more, I could probably…

“It isn’t bullshit!”

“You’re right! Bullshit has more substance-”

“Sooooo, what’s with all the space nicknames for Tim? When do I get one?” Steph asks casually, popping another of Tim’s fries into her mouth.

Has he even eaten any of his fries? It’s almost gone and he’s eaten at most one.

You choke making a pained noise, likely due to said carbonated drink going into your nostrils (and possibly your lungs), as you turn away. Your neck visibly red from where Tim is sitting. Based on the sparkle in Steph’s eyes, she can see it too. A manic grin spreads on Roz’s face wide enough that Tim legitimately worries that it’ll split her face wide open. A shrill sort of giggle escapes her which has you whipping your head to her direction to scowl at her. It does absolutely nothing to deter the sheer glee on her face as she sneers back to you. Some secret conversation passes between the two of you. Tim and Steph watch in slow motion as mortification creeps on to your face.

Suddenly (not really), Tim’s thankful that his only sister is practically a saint. At least compared to the horror that is Roz.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, you have a plethora of space-themed nicknames for him when you aren’t busy calling him whatever endearingly aggravating name Steph came up with that week.

Cosmo

Space Case

Space Nuts

Rocket Man

Martian Manhunter

Marvin (the Martian)

And your favorite, Cosmonaut.

At first, he figures it was because of his obsession love for Star Wars and Star Trek but no, that couldn’t be it since you had started calling him that long before you two ended up marathoning the entirety of Star Trek instead of working on your project. He can still remember just how engrossed you looked while watching as you hugged your knees to your chest leaning forward as you waited for the next episode to start up with bated breath. Your features highlighted by the glow of the laptop screen making it very easy for Tim to memorize the contours and angles of your expression. Yet another moment Tim really wanted to capture with a photo. You even did your mouth twitch thing without noticing.

He really wanted to just keep an entire album of all the different expressions you made. Wait. That sounds weird. Does it sound weird? It probably does.

Then again, maybe you called him those because of just how much of a weirdo he was. He couldn’t blame you if you did. But he found that highly unlikely. Sure, you can be mean at times (a lot of times) but you were too oblique for that. Years in customer service made sure of that. Your jabs were usually of the subtler, more needling variety. The type that makes you pause for too long. Plus, you said every nickname with a fondness that made his heart skip a beat. It was like when you called Roz or Steph ‘Fucker’. Maybe a little warmer. Or he could just be imagining that. Probably. Hopefully not. It was hard to get the honey-sweet way you said them out of his head.

Maybe they were just jabs. Lighthearted one. They could have just had easily been comments on just how much he spaced out. Tim has a tendency to live in his own head and it shows especially when he’s stressed or tired or both. Sometimes he would completely shut down as a result of excess anxiety. He can still remember the number of times he had let his anxieties run rampant letting them drag him away from the moment. His breaths were too quick to back then. He felt like he was gonna faint but then you just smiled at him like you were there for him which as it turned out you were. You gently squeezed each segment of his fingers until his breaths slowed. Even when he did fully calm down, you didn’t relinquish his hand. You held them firmly in your own even as you looked entirely unsure of what to do and what to say. You didn’t whisper the usual ‘you’re ok’ or the classic ‘you’ll be fine’. No, you just sat there with him quietly. Letting his feelings ebb and flow as he needed them to.

Tim really isn’t sure what he did to deserve even knowing someone like you but he would do it again and again if it meant being able to stick close to you.

Roz, ever the agent of chaos, throws a conspiratorial smile around the table like a flail. You look like you’ve been hit by one.

“Sorry, Steph. You won’t get one,” she says glancing at you. Steph pouts before she and Tim follow Roz’s gaze expecting you to glower or snarl or get up to deck her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. You just kind of sit there frozen and mortified with a face that simply says ‘Oh. God. This is happening.’. All you can really do is mouth a ‘fuck you’. This obviously pleases Roz. Say what you will about Roz, but there is abso-fucking-lutely no denying that she is petty as hell when it comes to revenge. Nothing is sacred to this woman. Nothing.

“Why’s that?” Steph asks innocently, smiling around her bendy straw also enjoying this rare chance to torment you.

“I’m so glad you asked!” Roz answers her voice twisting into a horrifying facsimile of a daytime talk show host. You peel your arm away from the backrest and place your arms over your head and neck as you do in an earthquake drill bracing for impact. By the way, you were shaking, you’d think there was an actual earthquake. Your reasoning can’t be that stupid.

“My dear Stephanie-” Steph scrunches her nose at the overly sweet tone Roz lathers on her name but makes no move to interrupt. “(y/n) only uses space-related nicknames for people they think are- and I quote- ‘waaaaaay outta their league’,” You let out a pained groan and Steph’s face unfurls as she lets out the loudest snort, loud enough to draw the attention of several tables around them.

Tim’s mind is still reeling, still trying to process what Roz just said.

Him?

Out of your league?

Excuse him, isn’t it the other way around?

What the hell?

“Tim, for the love of Alfred, please unhear that,” you plead wetly, parking your head out just enough for Tim to see just how red your face has gotten. “God, please unhear it or I might just die,” Tim kind of didn’t doubt that you would. Steph somehow laughs even louder at this. Roz, not one to miss pouring salt in the wound, laughs along with her. You look like you wanted to implode out of existence. You could certainly try but Tim seriously doubts the universe is kind enough to let you escape.

Yeah, Tim’s brain has officially left the building. He’ll be back at 9 o’clock sharp tomorrow. Promise.

“You mean to tell me that-” Steph chokes, unable to control her laughing fit. “-You’re telling me that you’ve been watching them pine for each other for over a year now and you just let them?!” Steph wheezes still holding her stomach.

Roz looks offended and makes a whiny little noise. “Weeeell, technically I offered to wingman-”

“YOU WERE GONNA CHARGE ME FIFTY BUCKS,”

“Hey, matchmaking is hard,”

“It isn’t worth fifty bucks!”

“You’re right! It is worth so much more,”

“God, I hate you,” you groan into the table.

“God can’t help you now, kid,”

Tim frowns, mind backtracking to dissect the information. Apparently, his brain decided to clock back in.

They knew. Even Roz ‘I don’t give a shit what you do as long as it doesn’t affect me’ Andrada, noticed. Was he that obvious?

A year? Wait. No. Over a year. They knew about this for over a year.

Lastly, what do you mean each other?! As in mutual? Mutual pining?

As if reading his thoughts, you ask “Wait… what do you mean each other?”

Roz blinks at you not entirely sure if you’re being funny. When you give her a look, she slumps back in her chair. “I’m related to a dumbass,”

“That you are. Speaking of dumbasses-” Steph whips her attention to Tim giving him a shit-eating grin.”-You said you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask (y/n) out, right?” Steph waves her hands doing jazz hands as she points at your still dumbstruck figure. She’s smiling as if she was the world’s best wingman at the moment.

Tim suppresses a groan. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it,”

Roz reaches into her pocket and produces a lighter. Grabbing the last of Tim’s fries and lighting it. “There. Mood lighting. Do the thing.”

“Ah yes, because surely the scent of burning potatoes is gonna sweep (y/n ) off their feet,” Tim said flatly crossing his arms. He knows he’s definitely focusing on the wrong thing but as with all things it was easier to procrastinate. This is especially true when you’re afraid of the outcome.

Roz huffs, waving the fry to extinguish it and muttering something about beggars and choosers. “Trust me kid that isn’t hard to do. Besides, did you not hear the part where I quoted (y/n) about you being ‘outta their league’,” You open your mouth to protest but slam it shut when Roz gives you a lopsided grin looking like she had a mountain of dirt on you which she likely did. He was definitely thankful that she has never met his family. He’s pretty sure Gotham wouldn’t survive.

“How could I possibly be out of (y/n)’s league. I- I don’t- I mean- I’m not-”

Your body twists his way fast enough that he’s sure you either have whiplash or a twisted spine. Your eyes are set on him glowering as if he’d said something wrong. He’s pretty sure he didn’t although he did have a talent for putting his foot in his mouth. Your jaw is set tight, your teeth almost grind. He could see the tight hitch in your shoulders. He is 100% sure you’re going to deck him.

“Do you want it listed alphabetically or what?”

“What?”

“Structure it like an argumentative essay. Speak nerd.” Roz instructs, earning her the full force of your glare. Your face pinches even more. Maybe this was the part where you implode.

You suck in a calming breath before turning back to Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are a fucking moron, and here’s why:” Taking another breath, you turn to face him fully your cheeks reddening but you press on either from pure unadulterated spite or determination.

“You quite literally co-run a multibillion-dollar corporation. You’ve been doing that since you were seventeen apparently. You know several languages and you are not only fluent but proficient. You’re well versed in an insane amount of fighting styles. You are the smartest dumbass I know-”

“Preach!” Steph jokes.

“-You can basically operate any machinery I put in front of you. I have no doubt you can Macgyver one up if you fucking wanted. You could hack into any system you want just as a joke. You could probably throw the entire global economy into the toilet just for shits and giggles. Need I go on?”

Tim looks at you wide-eyed and speechless. You shrink a little as he continues to gape at you but you keep looking him in the eyes daring him to refute your claims. Really what was there to say? As much as he wants to come up with something witty to snap back at you, his chest is too crowded with warmth from the absolute sincerity of your voice. He knows you didn’t set out to make him fall deeper in love with you but he feels like he’s in free fall with your gravity pulling him downwards. Tim can feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears.

You shrink again, your mouth twitching. “I-” Another calming breath. “I said too much. But my point stands!” The infinitesimal gap he felt between the two of you practically vanished. Still, he could do nothing but stare. Words fail him in the most inopportune moments even when you look so desperate for any kind of response. You swallow thickly looking like you think you’ve ruined everything when the fact was you haven’t. Quite the opposite really. Tim feels like he could take on the entirety of Gotham’s rogue gallery right now. Still, his brain was drawing a blank.

“Mood,” His brain has short-circuited and is now beyond repair. His palm is in his face before he even sees your reaction. You give him an entire speech about how great he is and all he can say is ‘mood’. Looking over at Steph and seeing her phone on her hands, he can tell she’s already transcribing the events to the group chat. Well, It can’t get any worse.

You giggle snort eyes slamming shut from the force of your laughter. Joy suffuses throughout your tense body, loosening your tense muscles. “Thank you for proving my point,” you say between gasps.

Tim falls victim to the infectious smile spreading on your face. He feels the warmth crowding his chest grow fuzzy.

Now’s your chance.

Tim takes a steadying breath. He rolls his shoulder back to straighten his posture. He waits for you to calm yourself a bit. When you do, he asks as confidently as he can “Are you free this Saturday?”

“No,”

Oh crap. He knew he screwed up. He feels cold seep into his feet.

You shake your head at his panic. “I work Saturday, ET,”

“Oh, I-”

“I have all of Sunday off though,” A hum of excitement spreads through his limbs. “Name your time,”

“9 AM?”

You give him a look roughly translating to ‘You aren’t going to lose sleep over a date, so help me’.

“11:30?” He corrects. You smile and hum seemingly making the oxygen in the atmosphere disappear. He finds that he doesn’t mind, not when he feels like he’s floating on zero gravity.

-------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

Steph: Tim’s a dumbass😌🙃

Damian: Thank you for stating the obvious, Brown.

Step: 🙄 Do you wanna hear about it or not?

Dick: 👀We’re listening…

Steph: (Y/n) made this whole speech about Tim and all Tim could say was 'mood' cycgu9c8ychic8td 5d8fcouv9ygpuv

Jason: F

Duke: F

Cass: F

Babs: F

Dick: F

---------------

Thanks for reading!!!!!

Taglist:

@idkmanicantenglish, @batarella, @batarella-mini, @birdy-bat-writes, @anothertimdrakestan, @founduebitches , @lucy-roo

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #tim drake #batboys #step brother #wingmanning is hard #batfam #red robin #dc fanfiction #dc x reader

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

Text

11x03: The Talking Dead

Okay, so I’m really late with this post. I didn’t get a chance to watch TTD until yesterday. There really wasn’t any TD smoking guns in it, so this will be short, but I thought it was worth pointing out a few things that they emphasized.

When Chris was first introducing the episode, I noticed that he said there was a “shocking twist” of Carol slaughtering the horse for meat. I thought that was an odd choice of words. Why was that shocking? Carol flat out said she wanted to bring the horses back to use them as meat. Maybe people just didn’t think they’d actually show it in the episode, but it’s not like we haven’t seen animals be torn apart by walkers before.

I thought maybe it was just another way to emphasize the death of the horse. And as you know, I think symbolically horses = Beth.

Then later, they did a pre-taped interview with Ross Marquand, and he said he thought it was interesting that they were so willing to “sacrifice” the horse to keep the rest of the community was alive. He thought it was sweet. (Not the horse’s death but how they take care of their people.)

But it made me think of Father Gabriel’s words in 5x16 about how they “sacrificed one of their own.” We don’t know exactly what he’s referring to there, but we’ve always thought he is referencing something to do with Beth and the missing 17 days from S5.

So, this is all just to say that the horse being sacrificed for the good of the living is yet another way that horse = Beth. And they emphasized this in TTD, as though they wanted us to remember it.

There was a lot of emphasis on Buttons the horse, even aside from what I’ve already said. They mentioned him a bunch of times, which is kind of weird for a horse that only lived for one episode 6 seasons ago. So again, it felt like they really wanted us to take notice.

In talking about the mushrooms Rosita found, Chris asked the guests who they would want to see take the mushrooms. Both Ryan and Callan came up with Eugene. That was suspicious to me. What are the chances they both come up with the exact same character, especially as neither of their characters ever had much interaction with Eugene? It felt like a hint of some kind. Like maybe to suggest Eugene and hallucinations? And we already know that his “Stephanie” is a decoy, so….

They kept emphasizing that they hope Alden can make it out of the situation he’s in. The thing is, based on what we saw in this episode, we really have no reason to think he won’t. Yes, I know the cuts looked bad, and he could still get an infection or something, but when Maggie left him, he was looking pretty okay. So, I don’t know if this is meant to be a hint at his death or, because they keep saying things about him making it out or being okay, a hint that he’ll be just fine.

Callan also said that people thought the shot of Agatha getting bitten in the trailer was him, so everyone assumed he was dying in this episode. That’s definitely true. I had a ton of people ask me, just for confirmation, if he was dying. And it was clear that they pretty much thought he was, but were just checking. Over and over I had to assure them that he doesn’t die. At least, not yet. Hopefully not at all. (I like Alden; he needs to sing more. ;D)

They asked if Alden has ever found peace after losing Enid. Callan essential said Alden has probably tried, but no. There’s just too much turmoil in the world.

That felt like a heavy parallel to Daryl losing Beth.

In the quiz, one of the questions they asked was about Duncan’s, “We were lucky” line. So, an emphasis on the Luck Theory, and a line that Beth directly said to Edwards at Grady. 🍀👀

The sneak peek was that same scene we saw in the trailer where Dog is hurt and whimpered. I find it interesting that they chose that one. Sure, it’s because people want to know if Dog is leaving the show or not. But symbolically, in terms of Dog’s current arc and template, I’m pretty sure that represents Beth getting shot at Grady. I know that’s totally not what most of the fandom are taking from it, but me being ME, I just can’t help but side-eye.

And THEN, right after that, Chris says, “You know, I feel like Dog will be okay.”

LOL. Seriously? If Chris is as in-the-dark as he claims to be, how on earth would he know that? Don’t every try to convince me that Chris isn’t in on what’s going to happen, lol.

In the end, the asked Callan to tease something about Alden, but he didn’t say much.

Remember that Alden is a heavy Beth parallel just now. I don’t expect it to happen in the next episode or even 2 or 3, but eventually, once this arc plays out, Maggie will probably return to the church and find him gone/missing. So I really do think Alden will be okay.

It’s very possible that they might do something like they did with Morales where they bring him back only briefly before killing him. (Let’s hope not, but this is The Walking Dead after all.) But I think we’ll see him alive at least one more time. I’d be very surprised if we didn’t. We’ll probably have to wait at least several weeks (let’s hope not several seasons) before we find out, though.

That’s about it for TTD. Like I said, nothing too groundbreaking. Anyone notice anything I missed?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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drariellevalentine · 3 years

Note

Can you write a one-shot about mc dealing with ptsd of the attack and Ethan struggles watching her. There are fics on this topic and I want it hear from your words too💗💗

Awwwwww! Thank you, that’s really sweet!

Ookay... I turned this into a headcanon so let’s see how this goes!

Dealing with the Aftermath

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

After Arielle is cleared to go home, Ethan takes Arielle to his apartment.

Arielle doesn’t say anything the whole ride, keeping to herself. Ethan doesn’t engage in conversation either, only makes small gestures to make sure she’s comfortable and takes extra measures to make sure she isn’t triggered.

After they arrive home, Ethan breaks the silence by asking Arielle if she wants to go to the memorial.

“I want to go, Ethan. But I don’t have the proper attire and the last thing I want to do is dishonour them. But you should go.”

Ethan nods and makes her a bath and after helping her settle in, he checks his phone. There’s still a few hours until the memorial. He sends Sienna a few texts, explaining her situation. The two had become quite close during the incident.

Sienna says that she’ll stop by and bring her a dress.

He then checks on Arielle to find her having a panic attack. Ethan quickly wraps her up in a towel and manages to calm her down. Arielle’s wall crumble as she falls into his arms, all the pent up emotions inside of her finally escape.

“Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is their faces. Maybe if I had waited one second, and not have rushed inside they still might have been here, Ethan. And for that, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.”

Ethan assures her as much as possible, at the same time reassuring himself that she’s in his arms and not anywhere else. Arielle finally managed to calm down and decides to watch a movie to distract herself.

Ethan is about to join her when his phone rings. He releases it’s Naveen. He answers the phone, telling him about his daughter’s current state. But what Naveen says surprises him.

“Ethan, I called you to check on you. I know Sunshine will get through this as she’s a strong woman and surrounded my many people who cherish her.”

“What about me? I’m fine.”

“Ethan, I may be old but I’m certainly not blind, nor a fool. I can see how much you care about her and how much it affected you to see her like that.”

“I-

“Sunshine is someone who is very important in all of our lives but don’t tell me she’s only a friend or a mentee.”

“...you’re right.”

Naveen is very happy his mentee finally has come to a realisation about his feelings and happily cuts the call.

Ethan knows that he’ll have to confront his feelings about her someday, but right now she needs him and that’s the most important thing for him.

Ethan and Arielle watch a movie until it’s time for Ethan to leave for the memorial.

Ethan gets ready while Arielle goes back to bed for a nap, not knowing what Ethan did. The doorbell rings, revealing Sienna with a bag. Ethan gives the two women some privacy and tells them he’s be waiting downstairs.

The two women finally meet Ethan downstairs after almost an hour. Despite their elegant black dresses and nearly done hair and makeup, he can see their tear-stained faces. The trio ride in silence to the memorial, Arielle sitting in the front with her head on Ethan’s shoulder.

The memorial goes by so slow, yet so quickly. The gang as soon as they spot each other all start crying, holding each other as they reminisce about past memories. The service was bittersweet, everyone sharing their most precious stories in hope to lighten the grief.

The reception is more jovial as everyone recollects the happy moments with the two beloved heroes.

After Arielle and Ethan’s night in his car, they go back to his apartment. Arielle has similar episodes, but has Ethan there to help her through her grief.

A few days later, Arielle goes back to her apartment as Sienna is alone. The two work through their grief with Hallmark movies, pints of icecream, yoga and morning workouts.

Ethan takes the liberty of scheduling a therapist for a few weeks for both of them.Every Monday and Friday, Ethan takes her and drops her back at her apartment, sometimes spending the night. Soon Sienna is cleared to go back to the hospital leaving Arielle all alone.

Arielle wakes up the next morning expecting to stay home all day. Then Farley arrives with a bouquet of flowers, and a surprising rash of his forearm. Deciding that she can’t stay idle anymore, Arielle decides she’s going to the hospital no matter what, even when a part of her isn’t ready to face her fears.

Author’s Note:- Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed this mess of a headcanon, it’s my first one so I apologise if it doesn’t measure up to my usual writing! Hopefully, my next one will be much better! It’s fluff so...

@aylaramseycarrera

@choicesmonthlychallenge for the prompt Healing. @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Xoxo,

@drariellevalentine

#open heart #playchoices #ethanjonahramsey #ohsy #ethan x mc #open heart fanfic #from the bottom of my heart #thank you for never getting tired of them #diyaa writes #headcanon

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reality-exodus · 3 years

Text

Episode 7 1/2 pt.2

"For Duskwood?" The driver asked through the speakers and I shot up looking around "Yes... wait a moment please." I spoke up as the loud sound of the speaker woke me up from the abstracted oblivion I had sank into during the route of the bus. The bus stopped, it didn't go to Duskwood it left me in the outskirts. I took a deep breath and disembarked the vehicle. It was high time I met my, for so long, pen friends. It had been a week since Richy's early passing, I haven't been able to talk to anyone but Jake, who was filling in the group for my progress via Lilly. I didn't talk again about this subject to anyone.

I got out of the bus and my gaze fell on the magnificent forest of Duskwood. It indeed looked scary... and dark. I hadn't realized that I was staring at it insistingly until I heard a horn and shot my head to that direction to notice two familiar faces with beard. I smiled at the vision of them expecting me on the road and started walking towards where the car was. Dan got out of the car and he raised his arms up as I was approaching with my suitcase.

"M/C" He sighed and pulled me in a hug, I let out a soft chuckle and hugged him back rubbing his back. He was taller than me, nothing compared to how he was as when we first talked to each other.

"Hello Dan" I let out a sigh of relief as we both tightened the hug for some moments. "How are you?" I asked him as we broke the hug and looked at each other. Things were sort of awkward, it was normal and it didn't bother me.

"We are doing the best we can... Hopefully you will upbeat Jessy a bit. But we will have time for that" Dan sighed and picked up my suitcase and I got in the backseat.

"Hello" I greeted Thomas as he turned and looked at me from the rearview mirror.

"Hey there..." I sighed and smiled awkwardly as Dan shut the door of the car, getting in.

"So how was your trip?" Dan asked me as I put on the utility belt. You never know what happens.

"Tiring... dull." I exhaled once again taking out my phone as I felt it vibrate and blushed a bit as I saw Jake's contact popping up on my screen. "It's Jake ..." I sighed and looked at them.

The boys looked at each other and sighed. "I really do want to talk to him..." Dan huffed looking at me with the corner of his eye. In the past he told me times galore to not trust the hacker... But well who knew I fell in love with him.

I took a deep breath and slid my finger upon the screen. "Hey..." I smiled blushed looking at the camera. "Hello M/C. Are you alright?" Jake was heard, he still had the voice altering application.

"Yeah... I am with Dan and Thomas actually. They just picked me up from the bus... They are here actually." I spoke to him and there was some silence.

"Hey Hacker!" Dan exclaimed loudly to be heard.

"Daniel, Thomas" Jake was heard.

"How are you doin?" Dan asked at the same tone.

"I am good. Still working on Hannah with M/C..." Jake spoke up.

"Good... Now if you'll excuse us we are busy." Dan said rudely.

"Dan!" I exclaimed annoyed frowning at him.

"Do not worry M/C. Text me when you are available..." Jake said and finished the call before I could even say goodbye.

"Good one Dan" Thomas huffed as his expressionless face was fixed on the road.

"Yea Dan, way to go" I deadpanned as I took out my headphones in order to listen to some music.

"Don't let his ass drag you down. Here connect your phone to the car." Thomas offered trying to repair the atmosphere Dan ruined.

"Oh Thanks... I appreciate" I smiled a bit to Thomas' intention and connected my phone to his car radio and put on my music. "You are probably the rap sort of guys or Metal or Rock. Billie Eillish and Bishop Briggs won't be your type of music..." I commented.

"Well You are not worse than Jessy... she listens to Justin Bieber." Dan laughed as 'Good girls go to hell' started being heard.

The way was long and Thomas said we were going on Phil's place where both me and Jessy would stay. I had fallen asleep on the backseat. I was extremely tired from my trip and the boys closed the music to keep me sleeping as Dan said I was even snoring.

"M/C" Thomas extended his hand and shook me as I ended up laying across the seat. "Wake up, we are here." He said smoothly and I blinked my eyes open sitting up. I fixed my dress and got out of the car as we moved in the block of flats with Thomas who was helping me with my bags. Dan did not do well with Phil so Thomas would show and help me upstairs.

I knocked the door as Thomas was leaving, he waved at me as Jessy opened the door. I took a deep breath at the footsteps I heard and the door opened soon and I faced a redhead girl, she was pale, and her hazel eyes were red and swollen from the grieve and the tears. I knew it was Jessy, I could recognize her despite the blues that worn upon her petite figure. She was shorter than me but with elegant curves. She was more beautiful in real.

"Excuse you my brother is not here." Jessy spoke with a huff, her shaking voice sounded angry.

"Thank god then..."I replied "I wouldn't be that fond of his arrogance right now." I added with a sigh.

"Oh my gosh M/C" she exclaimed and hugged and I responded rubbing her back. I expected the hug and I really liked it too."Its so good to finally meet you Jess" I sighed as I placed my chin on her shoulder as she is shorter than me.

"Me too." She sniffed. "You must be tired come on in" Jessy dragged in my suitcase and closed the door behind us.

"Indeed I am, I even fell asleep at the car on our way here..." I sighed. "I am going to make something for you to eat, you change and pick a movie and I'll get the pizza, no mushrooms extra tomato sauce." Jessy said and I smiled brightly at her as I moved to the bathroom and put on my pajamas and crushed back at the couch we were sitting before. "I am ready with a film." I spoke as I set up the TV with my laptop. "What movie?" Jess was heard. "V for Vendetta" I said with a smile as I texted good night to Jake. "You can't be serious?" Jessy let out a small laugh as she poked her head to look at me. "No really that's the movie we are watching." I nodded gazing at her innocently. "Is this some sort of type you have?" she asked as she sat next to me placing the pizza and the wine on the coffee table and covered both of us with the blanket. "Is this a Jake reference?" I asked and blushed as I took the glass of red wine. "You are really smart aren't you?" she giggled and I sighed in relief as she seemed to be forgetting reality, with Richy.

I've been thinking about all day long. What he said, he heard a scream calling his name specifically, and then he recognized Hannah's voice. And then the his wide eyes staring right at me as his last breath was abandoning him. I haven't told anyone, not even Jake. The only thing I want is to find Hannah in one piece. I don't have anyone to worry or miss me... Atleast not someone who knows me. And things with Jake are really blurry but he simply denies to say anything or give me a hope...

I fell asleep on Jessy's lap during the film and I felt her stroking my hair, cover me better with the blanket and then leaving. I didn't pay much attention I was too tired for it so I let sleep take the best of me.

I shot my eyes open at the sound of cricking that came from the main entrance. I didn't move an inch from my position in fear... The man without a face? The governmental pursuers of Jake? I sincerely do not know which is worse. I surveyed the dark living room at Phil's place, seeking for something, an object, that I could defend myself with. I caught a glimpse of the wine bottle me and Jessy drank earlier. I extended my hand and grasped it as I fell off the couch and crawled to the hall standing by as a figure with a long coat stepped in and looked around.

I lost no time and brought with force the bottle to his head as he let out a gasp and turned around. It was too dark for me to see any features upon his face I made a move to punch him in my effort to prevent him from doing what ever he was to do to me and Jess. He grabbed my wrist and turn me around stretching my hand to my back and pinning me to the wall as he leaned his face to my face and

"My sister usually has less violent friends M/C" I heard him whisper as he breathed down my neck and stroked my waist.

"Phil Hawkins" I breath out in relief and let loose.

"In flesh" He chuckled and let go of me still holding my hand. "And you are M/C..." He spoke in realization and switched the light on and looked at me.

"Are you alright?" I asked feeling embarrassed as I was trying to calm down.

"I am but you will have to pay me back for the hospitality and my destroyed hair." Phil had a smirk upon his lips as his eyes were upon me.

"Oh of course" I nodded recovering from the embarrassment from before. "What can I do for you?" I asked politely.

"Oh many things. But how about I take you out for a drink. You can see me on duty too." Phil smiled softly.

"Sure I could ask the rest to come too." I smiled politely making an effort to avoid him.

"I was hoping for something more private but whatever makes you feel better." Phil spoke and stroked my waist discreetly and I pulled myself to drink some water.

"Um I should go and sleep, Jessy will wake me up in a few hours for... for the funeral." I stuttered and sat down "Good night Phil." I spoke and covered myself with Jessy's pink blanket.

"I would be better with you cutie but Good night" Phil waved and winked at me vanishing in the corridor.

I laid back down and closing my eyes praying that sleep will come after this scare. But it didn't so I reach for my phone

'Jake? Are you awake?'

'M/C everything alright?'

'Yes, I mean, I was sleeping Phil walked in his house and I got scared and attacked him... I am still edgy'

'I assure you are safe. Are you alright now?'

'Yea I shooed Phil to sleep and laid back down. Can you imagine I slipped away only with a cocktail date at aurora's with everyone 😊'

'Well I knew you were smart. Did he tried anything cute?'

I choked on my water as I saw the screen, I liked that he didn't bother being elegant and discreet with the question 'No I put him back in his place.' I said as the smile wouldn't leave my lips any time soon.

'You should sleep, the funeral is in three hours' He texted

'You are right, Sweet dreams Jake' I texted and placed my phone to the coffee table and heard it buzz with his reply, I didn't see it now. I wanted to see it in the morning.

#duskwood #duskwood thomas #duskwood hannah #duskwood jessy #duskwood richy #duskwood dan #duskwood lilly #duskwood phil #duskwood jake #duskwood cleo #duskwood everbyte #everbyte studios #duskwood mc #duskwood mc x jake #jake x mc #jessy x mc #phil x mc

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life-rewritten · 3 years

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DISMAYS VS RELIEFS AKA REVIEW/RANTS OF BL IN SEPTEMBER NOVEMBER

It's been an interesting experience this past few months. BL came back in full force, took mostly all days in the week and you know what? It surprised the hell out of me. Mostly because I was moving back and forth from the decision of whether to stop watching or to wait and trust something extraordinary would happen like last year. And then October/November happened before I knew it I was falling again for some storylines, I was excited again to analyse and talk about these shows, and also I was incredibly grateful for some of the messages I received from these shows, they educated me, humbled me and even pushed me to my own version of self-acceptance, learning and love. So there are some disappointments with some of the shows mentioned here, but overall I'm grateful we got to see these shows and wait for them every week to air. This is the first part of this list because in another two weeks I have more shows ending. December is shaking!

Ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these shows?

DISMAYS

1. MY GEAR AND MY GOWN

Genre/Themes: Romance, Melodrama, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Unrequited Love, Family

Country: Thailand

Verdict:

Um, this show. I've been through a lot with this show, I've been angry, frustrated, tired, annoyed but weirdly I love this show, by the end of the finale, this show left me with warmth and this energy of bliss and joy. I realised that the reason why I was so harsh to this show was because of the potential I saw when I first saw the first episode. I fell in love because I could tell it was symbolic, it was deep, and it also had interesting devices used to tell the plot. Who knew that the pacing and directing of this show would nearly leave me mad and furious because it could have been better. This is all on the director, and sometimes the actors, they weren't expressive enough, they weren't emotional enough, and they didn't entirely sell me on what they were meant to be feeling. Sometimes it felt awkward and stiff and unbelievable, and at those times, I felt disappointed and bored. But the characters of this show and especially some actors (FIAT and JJ) really stole my heart without me wanting them to. I fell in love with the couples, I loved analysing them and feeling their angst and understanding their character dynamics. I lived for their friendship and enjoyed watching how it all came together. Even some of the romantic scenes made me swoon and excited, and I was just so happy to watch these couples choose each other.

I also think the relationship dynamics, whilst sometimes annoying, was actually sweet and wholesome. Itt and Pai's love is so cute and memorable, and I understood why they wanted each other, they both helped each other so much, and I thought it was beautiful. Pure and Folk; everything, no words, they were incredible despite rushed and late, I enjoyed watching their love on my screen, and it left me so disappointed that we could have had more if the pacing was done right. Either way, despite the rants and criticisms this show was a gem to me, one of my favourites just because of the couple dynamics. I will miss it, and I will miss analysing it. But please NEW sort your self out, and stop with the slow pace directing; you're killing your shows, (just my opinion) but you're making me dread the shows I've been so excited for in 2021, and I really pray you won't ruin them. Nough said.

Ratings:3.8/5 I can't rate it higher, but I do think it deserves credit, this show is very underrated as much as it annoyed me it's actually a decent show, it's very educational sometimes. It also has character development and growth. The romances are sweet and definitely should be paid attention to.

2. A CHANCE TO LOVE/ LOVE BY CHANCE SEASON 2

Genre/Themes: Comedy, Romance, Drama, Friendship, Rich, poor dynamic,

Country: Thailand

Verdict:

MGAYG was not the only show that New produced/ directed. There was this atrocity. No offence to everyone who loved this show, I love TinCan, I like most of the couples of the show, I didn't even complain when the show was rebooted, I didn't complain when there was not enough plot for the side couples for the first 8 episodes. But what annoys the hell out of me with this show is the lazy writing. I am so disappointed with this show, I realised that by the finale I was just tired and I was only watching it for some actors not even characters ( I was watching it to see a glimpse of Meen and Est), and it really made me sad. Because I started off with this show a bundle of joy, to see Tin and Can fall in love with each other again, I ignored when the haters said it was boring, awkward or stiff. I even accepted the massive amounts of product placement that was placed lazily and annoyingly. I was ready to forgive everything with this show. But I ended up feeling slighted, not me the actors should feel slighted, Cooheart, Mark Siwat, Gun, Title, Meen, Est should feel slighted by this show because this show wasted their potentials and only showed them for minutes in the whole 12 hours that this show aired for. I am so angry at the writer because she was lazy. She had clocked out when it came to this script (Though I don't blame her when everyone kept on sending her threats to how she told the previous story, she silenced her own creative ideas and muted everything, hence why Kengla and Techno's story was destroyed and became lazy and not needed and confusing, and Tum and Tar and Keen made no sense). Mame had given up on this show long before it aired.

But as much as I am disappointed at her for doing so, I also have to take this back to New, he's the person again who ruined this show with his pacing and directing. I love New, but this year it wasn't it, he is the main flaw in both his shows, he doesn't know when to pace things properly, he rushes plots at the end, and he doesn't give enough time to side couples for them to make sense. He did well in season 1 I think, but this season was atrocious. I am heavily disappointed, and I want to forget this show exists. I do have to give credit to Mean because I think he carried the show, I think Plan was cute but he was uncomfortable, and he ruined a lot of moments for me despite how much I love his chemistry with Mean. So yeh LBC was a disappointment, but it still holds a special place in my heart because I did care about the cast (maybe not as much anymore because of their homophobia) but LBC was one of my first loved BLs to see such a disappointing follow up is just heartbreaking.

Ratings:2.9/5 I couldn't bring my self to rate it even a three because I genuinely don't want to rewatch or think about this show again that's a pity because I genuinely love TinCan and MeenEst. But hey ho, c'est la vie.

RELIEFS

Gaya Sa Pelikula

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, LGBTQ+ Education, Contract relationship, Haters to lovers

Country: Philippines

Verdict: We finally reached the end. And the way I didn't want this show to end, is just too much. I completed this show on the floor sobbing, clenching my heart and just reflecting and thinking about everything. One I was in shock, wasn't expecting something like this when I first watched this show. I had a lot of doubts despite the sneaky light in my heart from the comedy and energy and charisma from the show. I fell. Hard. For everything. Before I knew it, Fridays meant everything to me, if I could get to keep watching this show, it made laugh, smile, cry, weep, and it made me think and learn. It's weird how a show can mean so much to people, this show wasn't for me, it was a love letter to the LGBTQ+ community, a beautiful one, and with everybody's reaction, I think I can say for all of us, that this show was a masterpiece. It had everything, a plot that was so deep, interesting and unique, characters that felt real, understandable and relatable, lessons that made everyone think and question how they acted, how they viewed things, what we say, how we consider our selves, what is our story that we want to tell to the world?

It's just incredible, not only that this show had terrific production, directing, acting and music that will stick with me for a long time. The music was perfectly used, perfectly mixed in, and it touched everyone's heart. This show left me feeling healed, it was weird, I don't know how to relate to the struggles of Internalised homophobia, but I get anxiety, I get feeling like you're not the main character in your story, I get feeling like your life was already planned out and your dreams don't matter, I get hiding and running away from the world and finding a place to stay in your head and find peace and I get feeling overlooked and misunderstood. Overall I get the fight for self healing, acceptance and love. And Vlad and Karl went through that, and it was so beautiful to see them grow and become what they wanted to be, even if they couldn't be together because of that. Everything including the side characters in this show meant something, each had their own story, flaws and importance for why they were there, and I loved it. Words can't explain how good this show is, and the fact that no one came into it, knowing anything is just such inspirational and hopeful thing, out there, there are content and stories to consume that can teach and affect you and make you want to do something with your own. And Gaya Sa pelikula was one of those for me. I don't wanna say Goodbye, and hopefully, we get to see them again soon.

Ratings: 5/5 I would give this more than 5 if I could. That's how much this show means to me.

4. I TOLD SUNSET ABOUT YOU/ TRANSLATE MY LOVE WITH YOUR HEART

Genre/Themes: Romance, Melodrama, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Wow. All I can say is wow. I find my self not able to talk about this show, because like what else can I say that everyone hasn't said. It's outstanding. No words. I think this show was just out of nowhere, I mean probably not; because it was a Nadao production but still, for a BL? Out of nowhere. The effort, the acting, the music, the production, the themes and the way it was all so perfectly told? It was a journey, I ended up at times also on the floor sobbing, shouting and just like feeling so single. Haha. But really this show is ridiculously good, it's like something that can't be fully explained, it's still a shock to me (and I really need to start believing in potentials of BLs more), it is, I'm just thankful I guess, for the 5 hours spent with this show, the number of essays derived from this show, the way Teh and Oh snuck in my heart and refused to leave. I think we all want a love like Teh and Oh, someone who completely takes your breath away, is selfless for you and is your number one supporter and fan. Someone who the room spins around for and your world only focuses on, someone who makes you brave.

And I think Teh and Oh found that with each other, and it was beautiful to witness, it was heartbreaking as well to see them struggle with it, it was also peaceful to reach the end and see them safe and secure with each other. ITSAY was everything, it also means a lot to me because the writing and directing are effortless, it's inspiring and beautiful to see how it came about, its so fulfilling to see how much effort went into this production. And I can't wait to see how Part 2 unfolds next year. I will say that with all the angst and longing, the ending did feel unsatisfactory because I just felt that all the tension and emotion invested just became really tame at the end, all the angst just fell apart so rapidly, and it felt weird that it ended in a hug? But with all the theories about sad endings and the other directions the writer could have gone with I'm happy it was a happy ending, and I'm delighted our boys reunited and became each other's most immense success/happiness.

Ratings: 4.5/5 Yeh I want to give it a 5/5 but the ending like I said felt a little bit empty for me, I didn't feel satisfied or like complete but that's because there's a part 2 coming. Still is the best Thai BL ever created. And it deserves all the praise.

November was a ride, I think I've cried so much during these past weeks, but honestly, I'm so glad BLs are just improving and putting more effort in, BLs are no longer just for fujoshis to consume. Still, now they represent and educate about LGBTQ+ experiences, they feel relatable and understandable. They're not as toxic as before. We're getting healthier relationships, we're getting depth and unique plots, we're getting happy endings as well. It's very lovely to see the growth, and I can't wait to see what December brings or next year. I'm just so proud of these actors, I'm proud of actors who actually respect this genre and understands why people like it, for me I really enjoy learning about things I never thought or experienced, it humbles me, and it inspires me so much. I'm grateful for these shows. Hopefully, there's many more like ITSAY and GSP to come. Please.

#thai bl #bl drama #bl series #itsay #i told sunset about you #gaya sa pelikula #gsp #like in the movies #wrpup #november #my gear and your gown #mgayg #a chance to love #love by chance #lbc #tincan #tulhin #mark siwat #pinoy bl

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lizacstuff · 3 years

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SCK episode 46 asks!

Hi folks, below the read more you'll find a smattering of asks about this week's episode as well as a few spoilers for 47.

Good asks this week:

(under the cut)

Anonymous asked: this may be superficial of me, but why are they dressing Serkan in such ugly tops? they finally brought Eda's hair back but now this

BWAH! You're not wrong. You know what I'm wondering, if they've put him in some of those outfits because they are showing his suburban dad side? It's kind of a subtle nod to him embracing father hood and a different way of life? He's now all about running around the yard after his daughter and not about what he looks like when he's being SERKAN BOLAT, FAMOUS BUSINESS MAN and WORLD'S BEST ARCHITECT.

Also, Eda's hair, thank goodness they let that go once the flashbacks were over and we didn't need something to distinguish between then and now! Those curly bangs were not it.

Anonymous asked: They built up the Edser chemistry soooooo well throughout the episode... for that ending? Who decided to cut it there?! The scene was BEAUTIFUL I’m actually upset lol. are not we going to see any more? I’m not asking for a sex scene, I wanted to see THE moment they decided to get back together (the tattoo line doesn’t do it for me) - a few words, tears as they embrace, him walking through the door as she closes it, one passionate kiss, something! But it doesn’t feel like a cliffhanger that continues next week. I’ll be so underwhelmed when they cut to the morning after and we have to infer that they got back together overnight *sigh* if they were allowed 1 kiss only, id rather it have been here instead of ep 2

We do deserve to see how they reconcile, that should be one of the biggest moments of the season after 7 episodes of build up to it.

90% of final scenes in this show have continued uninterrupted the next week. To me there's no reason to think the next episode won't pick up right where this one left off. Crossing fingers!

Anonymous asked: It just hit me that Serkan is the “Kiraz” for Kemal - but Kemal actually missed his child’s whole 35 years 😬 this is an interesting turn of events. Also that line Serkan said about how fathers should love their child’s mother and how he didn’t have that with his own parents....but his real dad does love Aydan, more than she deserves haha.

Oh so true! Kemal really does love his mother more than she deserves! How he puts up with her, I don't know.

The parallel between Serkan/Kemal and Kiraz/Serkan is strong and I hope it gives Serkan some perspective when he starts grappling with this knowledge. I'm sure it's going to be very disconcerting for him, because while he expected to never see his father again, Alptekin is still his father. He's still the man who raised him and formed him into the man he is. Serkan still runs the company he founded and bears his name.

I don't expect any of that to change, but hopefully he can forge a separate relationship with Kemal that might fill some emotional holes that he has and bring him some peace.

None of that even contemplates how Kemal will feel, thankfully Aydan didn't willfully hide the truth from him. How awful to realize you lost 35 years.

We aren't there yet, but I wonder at what age with Kiraz learn the truth, that her dad is not an astronaut, that her parents went through hell with with cancer and plane crashes, and that her father didn't know of her existence until right before they met?

Just something to think about.

Anonymous asked: i'm so happy for hanker, don't get me wrong, and i'm also so happy we get "together" edser for so many episodes until the end, but i'm already tired of the constant "hanker improvising" comments i know i will be seeing. not that they don't improvise in some scenes, but i just know that every romantic edser scene is gonna be analyzed to hell bc ppl want to look for hanker in them. like there's no possible way that ayse, the writer ppl hate the most, could write any romantic scenes.. nope no way!

Yes, this is one of my pet peeves, I can't stand the "Edser left the chat" and all the "that's Hanker, not Edser" type conversation. it's so invasive and most of all disrespectful to not only the writers, but Hande and Kerem and all the work they pour into bringing Eda and Serkan to life.

One of the things in fandom that sets my teeth on edge is when folks take some interpretation of the character by the actor and then decide because it wasn't "scripted" (pro tip the vast majority of physical movements the actors make are "unscripted") that it must just be the actors themselves and have nothing to do with the characters. What an embarrassing and naïve assertion. Actors literal job is to take what's on the page and then translate that. So, no, OF COURSE, every look and touch is not scripted. The actors interpret how their characters would think and feel, and what they would do in given moments and then do those things.

Eda is not touching Serkan's arm just because Hande can't hold herself back from touching Kerem. Puh-lease, they are professionals. Grow up.

However, having said all that, I do think there was one scene that seemed to be very improvised this episode. The bean scene in the grocery store did feel like them just eFFing around. LOL.

andhewonherheart asked: @andhewonherheart: SCK promo department is best and worst all at the same time, cause giving away the last (cliffhanger) scene in fragman is just cruel. But based on the next week’s fragman thing happens that we we think happens *wink*

Hee! So true. The thing I'm grateful for is that in season 2 not one fragman has made me dread the episode, I think there was at least one fragman an episode from 29-37 that was hella upsetting.

As far as I'm concerned these fragmans are doing there job, making me want to watch.

I am really excited for Serkan planning how he's going to ask Eda to marry him, I wonder what Kiraz's reaction is going to be. So far she's been their very own cupid!

Anonymous asked: I didn't find it surprising that Serkan removed his tattoo as soon as Eda left. His logic is always out of sight out of mind though it doesn't work. He did the same when he broke up with her when he found out about the death of her parents. He removed all of her belongings. But their memories are too strong and enough for him to continue to remember her.

Truth! Will he ever learn that it's never going to work? He'll never be able to erase Eda, she has left an indelible mark on his soul. Let's hope he's never faced with that situation again! From here on out, he and Eda are together, a unit, and will live a long life together and in love.

Anyone have any guesses where Eda's tattoo is? Will we find out or will it remain between the characters.

Anonymous asked: I've seen some people say that Edser are getting married now way too fast and to that I just have to laugh lol. First there were complaints we don't have happy Edser and now when we do, of course there's something else. These two have had a rollercoaster of a year when they first met and a five year separation.. they've been through the dating phase, the engaged phase.. of course they'll head straight to the altar! It's not like Eda's plane proposal and that first wedding wasn't rushed either!

I'm on team head straight to the alter! No more waiting. They've had terrible luck, so they just need to tie the knot and make sure there are no easy outs.

As for people who think it's too fast, they don't even know the storyline yet, I swear there are folks who complain just because that's their personality and they're never satisfied.

Anonymous asked: From some of the spoilers of BTS pics, and the fragman we got, I was just reflecting on this season and Turk romcom dizis in general and I just wanted to say how LUCKY we are to see Edser married (again, from spoilers) and with a kid on screen for more than just 10 minute at the end of the finale. Like, it is really rare and as much as people have nitpicked on this season in general, I feel like watching these last episodes have been such a breeze after the last arc of S1.

Oh agreed, I think these episodes have been very enjoyable. The writers are giving me exactly what I want from this show. Comedy, UST, romance with a little light angst thrown in now and again. I would rewatch this season a dozen times before even thinking about watching anything from the 30s.

We are very lucky that we've got to see them as parents, and actually forming their family. We've gotten so much domestic goodness so far and we still have a ways to go. I'm very appreciative of this season and that Ayse came back, got rid of the constant ridiculous melodrama for melodrama's-sake and is telling a very human story about family and love persevering.

Anonymous asked: the last scene gave me chills for some reason. you could actually see eda fighting her head and her heart and deciding to take the step (metaphorically and physically!) towards him for good. i wanna SUE whoever decided to end it the ep there though.. it was actually cruel. also looking at the next frag.. it makes my heart soft that in the flashbacks we see serkan pushing off their wedding bc of his fears and now he can't propose and get married fast enough.. can't believe we're really getting it

I know, it's almost surreal at this point. Since we're near the end we know it's for real and won't be ruined by psychos or awful family members or terminal illness. I just hope that they give us an emotional scene when they get married, whether its just them or the whole cast is there as guests, after everything they've (we've) been through we need to see them both feeling that moment and reveling in it.

FYI - I'm out of town next weekend, so I may be slower than usual in replying to asks and in posting gifs of 47, but I'll get to it all eventually!

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen Cal Kapimi #Edser #sckask #sck episode discussion #edser discussion #asklizac jmo personal life #singles anonym

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

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The Things We Don’t Say (modern AU - Actors)

Summary: No one is perfect, and sometimes, two people are just so perfectly flawed that those pieces fit together and make something beautiful. When sparks fly between two leads of a new hit show, is there a happy ending in sight, or will their own mistakes overshadow any chance they had at something worth fighting for.

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: This is a joyfully Captain Swan story, but there are a few warnings. It does start with Emma/Neal and Killian/Milah. I don't write non-CS, so there won't be any sexual anything happening 'on screen', so to speak, between those couples, but I won't guarantee there may not be a mention. This story contains numerous episodes of cheating. If any of these things make you squick or are not your bag, carry on.

AO3 - FF

- or read below the cut -

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for further updates.

Tag list: @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @teamhook @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4

Chapter One

Emma scrolled through the email her manager had sent detailing the new role she was being offered. It was something fresh, something different from what she normally focused on—no hint of a police procedural in sight—and based on the tone, it sounded like they were very interested in getting her signed for one of the leads. She stretched her legs out along the couch, digging her cold toes underneath the pillows in search of some warmth, only to yank them back when she encountered something both crinkly and wet.

“Dammit, Neal! What the hell is this?” she growled, glaring at the brown sludge coating her foot.

She leaned forward, careful to angle her toes away from any other surface, and peeled the throw pillow from the couch. Smeared across the white fabric and the expensive leather was what looked like the remainder of a milky way bar, the wrapper still clinging to the puddle of caramel and chocolate.

“You have got to be kidding me. Neal!”

The only response she got was the sound of something hitting a pan full of oil in the kitchen, the apartment filled with the sizzling hiss of something frying. Dropping her phone and forgetting all about the email she’d just been reading, she hobbled down the hall into the bathroom to clean up, wondering how in the hell to get out a chocolate and caramel stain. Why he couldn’t just learn to clean up after himself was beyond understanding. Sometimes it felt like she was living with a teenager who never wanted to grow up, and she couldn’t help but long for the days when her apartment was clean and didn’t smell like whatever weird odor it was that Neal always brought home—grease and cigarette smoke, maybe.

Her foot finally clean enough to be walked on, she headed into the kitchen to get some paper towels only to be greeted by what looked like every dish she owned spread out on the counters and island. Every surface was dusted in flour and drips of batter, measuring spoons leaving trails of oil and sugar across the floor and counters alike.

“Oh my god,” she cringed, knowing the mess would be left for her. “What are you doing?”

“I was wondering when you’d get off the phone,” Neal poked, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder before motioning proudly over the mess that just seemed to get worse each time she looked at it. “I’m cooking.”

The casual way he always stabbed at her phone use was exactly what she didn’t want to hear right now. Maybe she wouldn’t have to spend so much time working if he bothered looking for something himself. He’d had a recurring role on a family comedy when they met, but he’d been fired not long after, and for the last six months, Emma was pretty sure he hadn’t even gone to any of the auditions she’d mentioned. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he had an agent anymore.

“When was the last time you had a Milky Way?” she asked, choosing to ignore his snide comment. She just wasn’t in the mood.

“That’s a weird question. I don’t know, maybe last week? You didn’t pick any up the last time you ran to the store.”

Emma nodded, her lips drawn tight as she tore paper towels from the rack and returned to the living room, pulling what she could of the melted mass from the couch and thinking she’d need to resort to Google to get the rest out. Her anger bubbled with every sticky string of caramel that wrapped around her fingers. Why couldn’t he go to the store on his day off? He only had seven of them. She stomped back into the kitchen, hitting the garbage can a little harder than necessary and tossing the mess of chocolate and paper inside.

There was just enough room in the overload sink—what had he used the colander for—that she could wash her hands.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge. What was so important that you had to turn the entire kitchen into a complete disaster?” she questioned, already adding up how much time it would take her to wash and wipe everything down.

She’d be lucky if she was able to get back to her manager before tomorrow as requested.

“You remember that travel show we watched the other night?” he prodded, his eyes glued to the pan as it hissed on the stovetop, a spatula held ready in his hand. “You mentioned you hadn’t had good churros since that trip to Mexico, so I thought maybe I’d make you some.”

The anger that had been just about to boil over slipped away to that place far enough below everything else that she could just go back to ignoring it.

“Neal,” she sighed, suddenly more exhausted than anything else. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Ems—anything for you.”

In the living room her phone blared to life, the dark tones of The Imperial March echoing as it vibrated across the coffee table.

“Work calls,” Neal sniped, a trace of resentment running beneath the pleasant smile he fixed in her direction. “Wouldn’t want to keep Regina waiting.”

It was amazing how quickly that anger came right back to the top of everything, and she found her feet pushing her as far away from Neal as possible, snatching her phone from the table and forgetting entirely about the couch as she stormed into the bedroom.

“What?” she hissed, slamming the door behind her and clenching the cell like it was something she wanted to crush. “What is so important that you couldn’t give me a few more hours, Regina?”

The other end of the line was silent, as if Regina had either hung up, or was waiting for an apology. Well, she wasn’t getting one—not today.

“Is there something you needed, Regina?”

“Are you okay?” Regina asked, not as a friend, but as an employee that was curious to know how soon she would have to contact Emma’s PR team and inform them a mental breakdown was imminent.

“I’m fine. It’s just a bad time. I got the details you sent. I just haven’t read through everything yet.”

“Well, that explains why I haven’t heard from you. Honestly, I thought you cared more about your career than that. I was quite clear this was urgent. Don’t take your time with this one, Miss Swan—they want you, but they can’t wait much longer.”

The line went dead after Regina had delivered her scolding and Emma sighed, dropping to the bed and rolling onto her back as she flicked back into her email and started again from the top. It was an interesting premise with even more depth than she’d originally thought—a new series that centered on the mental health of a man who had developed delusions after a car accident that took his brother, leading him to believe everyone in the hospital was a character from a fairy tale world—but then she got the part that Regina really focused on, the money.

“Holy shit!” Emma gasped, double checking the figures and thinking how she’d never seen such a good offer—not for someone in her bracket. It was unheard of. “I guess they really do want me.”

It wasn’t until she read through the rest of the itinerary and details that she wondered if the big paycheck wasn’t recompense for the filming location and duration—the middle of Nowhere, Maine, as if Maine wasn’t already considered the middle of nowhere.

She read everything twice before she shot Regina a quick text.

E: I’ll take it

The message had only just sent and there were already three ellipses following. Emma could practically hear her manager’s smug response.

R: I knew you would. I’ll be in touch.

There should have been nerves fluttering in her stomach, or at least a solid pit of dread at the prospect of having to walk into the kitchen and tell Neal, but there was nothing. It was a big decision to move across the country for what could be a long-term role, but it was still her decision to make.

Hopefully, he would be happy for her, he would understand that this had the potential of lifting her out of her rut and providing great income for the foreseeable future. There were some great names attached, veterans of the industry that were looking to branch out into a new genre.

She was excited for the first time in a long time.

She didn’t need to feel guilty, at least that was what she told herself as a niggling pang of guilt worked its way into her chest.

It would be good to break it to him gently though, to put a good spin on it.

The minutes ticked by and she finally realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer, she wandered into the kitchen, her arms crossed in front of her as she looked for him, but the apartment was empty. The stove was turned off and a plate, probably the last clean one, was waiting on the counter with a pile of golden churros perched on top of a greasy paper towel.

Next to it was another torn paper towel with a note scratched onto it in sharpie.

The boys called and I’m heading out for a few beers. Don’t wait up. Enjoy the churros.

She waited for the anger to bubble back to the top, but there was nothing—no anger, no guilt, just a deep, hollow nothingness that grew and yawned as she fingered the scrap of a note transparent with oily fingerprints. Feeling like maybe this job had come at the best possible time, she picked up the plate of churros and walked over to the trash, watching them slide in with the rest of the garbage.

#Captain Swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #modern au #actors #the things we don't say

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

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Breakable Heaven (pt. III) - p.l. dubois

Part I II

Here’s part III! One more part after this, then we’re going to be finishing up our time with Laurel and Pierre-Luc. It’s seriously been so so much fun writing this over the past few weeks, and I’m excited to get to keep the story going. Many many thanks to @hockeyboysiguess for being a great sounding board for Breakable Heaven so far, my favorite response of hers to anything I’ve sent has got to be “that’s rude.” So, enjoy! Reblog if you enjoy it, come scream into my inbox, and I still read every tag!

Part III

July 10 (sat)

Laurel was exhausted. Two hours after the wedding, her and her meager bridal party had shown up to her house, piling everything she hadn’t yet brought over to Pierre’s apartment into her SUV and Madeline’s white sedan. She left her old apartment with the keys at the front office and one last wistful look into the place that had once been her own. She’d miss it, she thought, as she and Pierre drove down the Ville-Marie Expressway towards his apartment, her fingers still trying to get used to the feeling of having rings on it. She’d only lived in the space for a year, but it was in that building that she started her dream job, that space that she adopted her dog, that apartment where she met one of her best friends and that place where she got married.

They had spent a few hours half-heartedly unpacking her boxes; Laurel was excited to get settled in, but she was also the world’s worst procrastinator and even at 6 PM, all that she had managed to get done was folding some clothes and adding her book collection to the shelves in the living room. Pierre poked his head into the spare room — her room? — rolling his eyes when he saw her “progress.” “I was going to order in, what do you feel like?”

Laurel hung up a blazer in the closet. “Pizza?” she asked hopefully. “Though I’m really going to have to teach you to cook one of these days. We can’t survive off of take-out and pasta alone.”

“If that’s how you want to be,” he responded good-naturedly. “I’ll have you know that I can cook more than pasta, though.”

“Really?” Laurel asked, raising her eyebrows. “What’s the Chef Dubois specialty?”

“I make a mean salmon,” he replied, before returning to the living room. That was another thing she had to get used to quickly as soon as they started going through the marriage process: Québec didn’t allow for women to take their husbands’ names at marriage. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought too deeply about, but Laurel supposed she’d always assumed that she’d take her husband’s name when she got married. But then again, she always assumed she’d get married under normal circumstances. Her parents aside, Cloquet wasn’t an absurdly conservative town, but it was still certainly something of an anomaly for a married woman to still have her maiden name. Which is what she was now. A married woman. Oh God.

Pizza with white wine may not have been the most conventional choice, but it got the job done, Laurel thought as she lay in bed at half past midnight, the birds outside her door insisting on making her efforts to fall asleep as futile as her efforts to ignore them. She’d already been in bed for an hour; after dinner, her and Pierre watched a few episodes of Black Mirror — also probably not the best choice to do before bed, but oh well — before he wished her a good night’s sleep. She had taken a melatonin and drank a cup of tea before bed, put on a playlist full of rain noises, but nothing seemed to be working. Maybe it was because it was the first night in a new place, or the birds outside, or just the craziness and excitement of the day catching up to her.

Laurel felt like a child again as she padded over to Pierre’s room, like she was five and back in Minnesota, crawling into her parents’ bed after hearing a wolf howl somewhere on the property. But really, she didn’t really care what she had to do if it meant she could get a good night’s rest. She knocked lightly on his door, careful not to wake up the dogs, who had long since fallen asleep in a corner of the living room. “Mmm?” he answered. She turned the doorknob. God, I hope I didn’t wake him up. She didn’t, as it would turn out; Pierre was propped up on his headboard, scrolling through his phone as he moved his eyes from his screen to her figure in the doorway. “You good? Everything okay?”

Laurel shrugged, wiggling her hand. “I don’t know what it is, I tried everything but I’m just not able to get to sleep. I’d try and wait it out, but my sleep cycle will be thrown off for a week if I’m not able to get to bed tonight.”

He moved over from the middle, reaching over to the side of his bed and getting another pillow before throwing back the covers and patting the spot next to him. “C’mere.”

“Are you sure?” Laurel said, furrowing her brow, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was wearing an old t-shirt and panties, leaving very little to the imagination.

He nodded, putting his phone down on the nightstand, smiling softly at her. “Of course. What’s mine is yours, eh?” That was all it took for Laurel to climb into the right side, claiming it as her own, and throw the duvet over her body. She fell asleep almost instantly.

---

Laurel woke up to the unmistakable smell of bacon frying and the other side of the bed devoid of Pierre’s sleeping form. She straightened the bed before walking out, where she was greeted by two plates on the breakfast bar, a pot of coffee brewing, and her husband at the stove.

“I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” Laurel teased, leaning up against the granite countertop.

“Good morning to you too.” Pierre shrugged. “I hardly think being able to fry an egg and not burn toast qualifies as cooking, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Laurel stepped further into the kitchen, lightly dragging her fingers over his back in a silent thank you as she opened the cupboard. “Let me get the coffee, at least,” she said, grabbing two mugs off the shelf and the creamer out of the fridge. “How do you take yours?” Laurel asked, glancing at Pierre from the side as he buttered the toast.

“A little bit of cream, more sugar,” he replied, sliding the plates onto the bar as she handed him his mug. “Perfect,” he said, smiling. A few minutes into breakfast, with Laurel just about to crunch into her second piece of toast, he spoke again. “So, I was thinking…”

She nodded. “I should hope so?”

Pierre laughed, ducking his head. “I was going to post something about the wedding today, online and stuff, but wanted to check with you first.” They had spoken about it once or twice before the wedding, both of them knew that it wasn’t practical nor honest to think that they’d be able to keep the news from everyone over the entire duration of their temporary marriage. And part of the “sell,” part of what she needed to prove, was that their relationship was real. And real would mean posting about each other online, real would mean flying down a few times a month — thank God her schedule gave her a long weekend, and thank God the flight wasn’t too long — for games and galas and real would mean meeting his friends and him meeting her family and Laurel had to stop thinking about it all before her head exploded.

“Go for it,” she said. “I don’t like having to hide from it any more than you do, so it’ll be a relief to let everyone know, give a heads-up to the four people on my Instagram page who actually care about my life.

Pierre poked her arm. “Five, now.” He opened his phone, scrolling through the pictures Madeline had sent from yesterday. She had run a small side business doing photography in university, and insisted on taking their photos as a wedding present. “You deserve something beautiful to look back on,” she had said. The final book wouldn’t be done for a few weeks, but she had sent over the raw shots the night before. “What about this one?” He leaned over to show her. Their foreheads were touching, his arms wrapped around her waist as they stood in the middle of one of Vieux Port’s cobblestone side streets. Laurel’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, her other hand loosely holding her bouquet. If you didn’t know, they looked like a real couple. They looked like they were in love.

“It’s gorgeous,” Laurel murmured softly. “I knew Madeline was talented, but wow. She outdid herself.”

Pierre nodded in agreement. “She did. I know I already told you, but you really did look incredible.” Laurel’s cheeks burned; she raised her mug to her lips, hopeful the oversized ceramic would cover enough of her face that he couldn’t see the effect his words had had on her. Laurel opened her own phone, scrolling through to find the matching photo. A few minutes later, he handed her his phone and she passed hers, giving their captions one last once-over before giving up their secret. Her eyes flitted across the screen.

Yesterday, I had the incredible fortune of marrying @laurel.klerken, the best person I’ve ever had the fortune of loving. I know it might come as a shock, and that we’ve kept our relationship under wraps since realizing after years of being friends that friendship just wasn’t enough any more, but this wasn’t a decision that either of us made lightly. Laurel, you’re an amazing woman, and even though it’s only been a day, an amazing wife. Whether it’s for your patients, your friends, or me, you make everyone around you feel warm, safe, and cared for beyond measure. You have a sharp wit and an even sharper mind, and I have endless admiration for how committed you are for standing up for what’s right, even when it’s not popular and even if it’s gotten you in trouble once or twice. Marriage is a partnership and a journey, and I’ve never been so excited to start a new adventure.

Laurel sniffed, not even noticing the tears pricking her eyes until Pierre handed her a tissue. “Thanks,” she murmured. “You don’t think you’re laying it on a little thick, though?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Not at all.” One tap later, and it was posted. Three minutes later, his phone rang as they were doing the breakfast dishes. Cap ❤️ flashed across the screen. Pierre grimaced. “It’s the captain. I should probably answer this one,” he said, pressing the speaker button as he dried his hands on a spare towel.

“You’re married,” Nick Foligno said, wasting no time. “Is this a fucking joke?” Laurel more than understood his apprehension, but the words still stung.

“Yes I am,” Pierre said slowly, “and no, it’s not a joke. Laurel and I are legally married in the province of Québec.”

She could hear a labored breath from the other line, followed by an airy laugh. “What the hell, man?”

Nick was ultimately happy for them, and after being introduced to Laurel after they switched the call over to FaceTime he apologized for his reaction, but Laurel waved him off. “You’re just looking out for your boy is all. I’d do the same.”

Nick nodded. “Take care of him for us, Laurel. Your address still the same?” He looked over towards Pierre, who hummed his assent. “Janelle and I will send you something. Something useful.”

---

July 28 (wed)

“Something useful” turned out to be a gorgeous set of Wüsthof knives and a stand mixer, the latter of which Laurel was nearly jumping out of her socks with excitement to try. Baking had long since been one of her favorite hobbies and her go-to method of stress relief; while she was grateful for the arm muscles her years of having to hand mix everything had given her, she wasn’t going to miss the extra effort. So Laurel Klerken was taking full advantage of her new toy. She had gone down to the Jean-Talon market in the morning, which was quickly becoming one of her favorite weekly activities. Especially with Pierre around to help her, she was learning to shift her speaking into the Québecois dialect, and her French was good enough to order from the vendors in their language and be understood. In her book, that was a win. The peak of summer meant it was berry season in Montréal, which meant it was time for Laurel to break out her nana’s blueberry oatmeal muffin recipe. And chocolate chip walnut cookies. And a French apple tart. Okay, so maybe she went a little bit overboard, but they had their desserts for the week and it made the kitchen smell so good.

Pierre opened the door just as Laurel was pulling out the last pan of cookies, walking around the corner into the kitchen and raising his eyebrows at the view. She looked over at him. “You going to complain about your wife’s baking when you’re the primary beneficiary?” she asked, challenging him with a playful smile on his face.

Pierre held his hands up in surrender, holding the mail between two fingers. “No.” He picked one of the cookies off of the cooling rack, taking a bite. “Definitely not.”

Laurel nodded towards the mail, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. “What came in the mail?”

“Nothing much,” he said, shrugging. “Just a little letter from IRCC.”

Her eyes lit up. “Immigration finally got back? Did they send my card?”

Pierre nodded, handing her the envelope. It barely took five seconds for her to rip it open. “You, Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, are now officially a permanent resident of Canada. Congrats, babe.”

Laurel squeaked in excitement, dancing around in the kitchen , the holographic detailing on the card catching the glow of the late-afternoon light. She threw her arms around Pierre, giving him a kiss on the cheek that was just barely off to the side of his lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said breathlessly.

“Don’t mention it.”

She pulled back, still smiling. “No, ‘don’t mention it’ is for when you bring home dinner without being asked, or take a drunk friend home from the bar. Not for things like this,” she said, wiggling her card. “This is everything to me, P. I get to stay in the city that I love, I get to stay at the job that I love. I get to —” She looked down, eyes widening. “I can finally get a health card!”

Pierre let out a laugh. “Out of everything, you’re most excited about that?” Being a dual citizen who lived in the U.S. for the better part of the year, Pierre understood the absolute chasm of accessibility that separated the American and Canadian health insurance systems better than most, but he still looked at his wife’s choice with incredulity.

“Of course it is,” Laurel said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She still had insurance purchased through her work, but the fact that now it was so much easier and official and came out of her taxes instead of having to try and navigate the bureaucratic system of forms and checks and private insurance companies made it so much easier. “It’s just nice to finally be a part of a system that acknowledges healthcare as the human right it is. That’s another thing about how it works in the U.S., it’s tied to employment a lot of the time so it’s not always a guarantee.”

She gave a tense smile, leaning back against the counter. “I might seem a little worked up about it, but that’s because I am. Uh,” she paused, eyes flickering up towards the chrome-plated track lighting, “my dad lost his job when I was a kid. He was a foreman at a construction company, but then the recession hit in ‘08 and he was laid off. We lost our insurance. Maggie and I were able to get on MinnesotaCare, which is the state insurance for low-income families, but our parents didn’t get approved. Not enough money to go around, I guess,” she scoffed. “Unemployment wasn’t paying enough and mom’s job isn’t full-time, so she doesn’t get benefits. Apparently they think healthcare is a benefit.” Laurel took another pause. “And then Dad had a stroke. It wasn’t serious, thank God, but the bills...Maggie was almost graduating high school and headed off to college, and money was tight even before the layoffs. We were able to come up with the money, but only because the community really came together, in a way I had never seen before. I still haven’t seen anything like it since. Bake sales, church fundraisers, garage sales.” The tiniest of smiles played on Laurel’s lips as she looked back up at her husband. “Do you know how much pasta Minnesotans can eat at a spaghetti dinner?”

“A lot?”

“A whole hell of a lot,” Laurel confirmed. “But anyways. That’s when it became personal to me, and I think it’s why healthcare and access to quality care is still something that I’m still so passionate about and invested in. It’s why I became a nurse.”

Pierre walked over to her carefully, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “It makes absolute sense, Laurel. I know that probably wasn’t easy for you, so thank you for sharing. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to let me in like that.” Laurel wasn’t a cold person by any means; she was one of the kindest and most giving people Pierre had ever met, even in the few months that they’d known each other. But she was someone that could be guarded at times — for very good reason — and it meant the world to him that she was willing to let him chip away her hardened exterior little by little to see the brilliance that lay within.

She pressed against his side, her head resting on his arm. “You’re my husband. Why wouldn’t I?”

---

Laurel was in the ensuite of her and Pierre’s room, washing her face before going to bed, when she heard her phone vibrate with a text. After that first night, Laurel had made it a habit of sharing a bed; she’d never slept better in her life than the past two and a half weeks, and even though she may have been loath to admit it, waking up to an incredibly attractive man — who was shirtless half of the time — wasn’t something she was about to complain about. “Can you get that for me?” She was expecting a text from her mom, something about confirming her and her dad’s flight times for their visit next week.

“Laurel?” Pierre called cautiously.

She turned towards him, patting her face dry. “What? Did their gate get changed or something?”

He shook his head, walking towards her and holding the phone out like it was a bomb. “It’s Maggie.”

Laurel’s mouth immediately went dry. “M-Maggie?” She took the phone, staring at the screen, open to the text.

“Do you want to talk to her? You don’t have to if you’re not feeling up to it,” Pierre said, searching her face for any semblance of apprehension. As far as he knew, she hadn’t talked to her sister in years, and he didn’t know why that was suddenly about to change.

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I just...I have no idea what she wants. Why, after three years, is she finally deciding that she wants to be a part of my life again?” She looked down at her phone.

So, I had to hear it through the Cloquet grapevine that you got married?? What’s that about, L? Maggie wrote. Laurel pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. The gossip train in her hometown was second to none; to be honest, she was a little bit surprised it even took her older sister this long to hear about it. She was already enough of an anomaly. Less than a quarter of her city had a college degree, even fewer left the state to do it, so her going to Toronto for university was practically unfathomable — even if it was closer than Texas, where her second-choice school was. So, needless to say, she was a frequent headline in the Cloquet rumor mill. She had heard it all. That she had run off to Canada to escape a high school sweetheart turned sour, that she had cut off all ties with her family, that she had shaved half of her head and dyed her eyebrows bright pink. The last one actually had some truth to it, but it was just the eyebrows and she was a drunk 20-year-old, and at least she didn’t get a tattoo of the Maple Leafs logo on her thigh like her friend Ethan.

But this one wasn’t a rumor, and if nothing else, Maggie deserved to know that much. Not much to say. It’s true, if that’s what you were wondering.

Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to find out third-hand?

Laurel rolled her eyes, sitting down with a huff on the edge of their bed. Not to be harsh, Maggie, but it’s not like you’ve wanted to be that invested in my life since you left home. How was I supposed to know if this was even your number any more? I don’t even know what country you’re in right now.

Her response was almost immediate. I’m working at a hostel in Tokyo. But seriously? I know we haven’t been super close the past few years, but I’m still your sister, and I would have thought you’d tell me about something like this. Getting married is big. You don’t think you’re still a little young? Have you even finished school yet?

I graduated last year, I’ve been working at a hospital in Montréal for over a year, Maggie. And I know it’s a little early, but Pierre-Luc and I are happy. I love him, and he’s a good man and respects the hell out of me. I don’t really need anything else.

It was a few minutes before her next text came through, this time in all caps. YOU MARRIED A FUCKING NHLER? Laurel grew up knowing hockey, obviously; you couldn’t really live in Minnesota and not, and she wasn’t even a half-bad skater herself, but Maggie had always been the more dedicated of the sisters. She’d been the one who was always begging their dad to make the two-hour drive to St. Paul for a Wild game. Even when money was tight, Doug always found a way to scrape up enough for the tickets as her birthday present in January.

Denise from church didn’t tell you?

All she said was that it was some hot French-Canadian guy, and mom said you moved to Quebec, so I thought it could be any number. Fair enough.

Denise seriously called him hot?

Laurel could imagine her sister rolling her eyes all the way in Japan. Okay, fine, she didn’t say hot. But like...am I wrong?

For the first time in a long time, her sister made her laugh. Yeah, okay. He’s hot. I’m very aware that my husband is a class-A babe.

“You think I’m hot?” Pierre said, peeking over her shoulder and wiggling his eyebrows.

Laurel’s cheeks heated. “Yes, okay. I think you’re very attractive. Happy?”

“Very,” he responded. “I’m glad my wife thinks I’m hot. The feeling’s mutual,” he said before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving her even more flustered than before. She turned back to her conversation with Maggie. My shift is about to start, so I’ve got to go. But I’m happy for you, L. I really am. You’ve done exactly what you want with your life, and I couldn’t be more proud.

Laurel’s finger traced the words on the screen, a small smile on her face as Pierre came back into the room, throwing back the sheets. She plugged her phone into its charger, turning it face-down onto the nightstand. Things weren’t perfect between her and Maggie; far from it. One conversation over text wasn’t going to change that. But maybe, just maybe, there was still something there that was worth saving. After flicking off the lights, the last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of Pierre snaking his arm around her waist, pulling her to rest her back up against his chest. And Laurel let him.

August 17 (tues

It had been one of the worst days of Laurel’s life, and she wasn’t one for dramatics. Certainly the worst shift of her career. She knew when she chose to work in a pediatric intensive care unit, that it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows. If she wanted sunshine and rainbows, she would have gone with something less taxing. Something like dermatology, or working in a pediatrician’s office, or being a school nurse. God knows she could hand out ice packs and tampons. But no, she had to pick critical care, and critical care with children, one of the most emotionally and mentally taxing areas in the entire healthcare field. She saw the highest highs, the incredible moments when a three-year-old girl with a brain hemorrhage was able to get home, or a twelve-year-old boy finally got a kidney transplant after having been waiting for years. She saw the highest highs, but on days like today, she also saw the lowest lows.

Laurel carried her scrub top in one hand, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and tried desperately to regulate her breathing as she turned her key in the lock, pushing the door open. No matter how many times she had helped her patients breathe, she never seemed to be able to take her own advice.

Pierre stood in the kitchen, making a smoothie, but immediately turned off the blender when he saw her face. “What happened?” he asked, gently taking her bag from her and placing it on the floor.

Laurel collapsed into his arms almost instantly. “T-there was a little girl who c-came in yesterday from a car crash, and it was pretty b-bad, but she made it through the night and everyone thought she’d b-be fine,” she hiccuped, “but then right at the end of m-my shift she started coughing up b-blood and she was crashing, so I tried to do CPR until the t-team got there, but it didn’t work and we…” Laurel trailed off, sobbing, gripping the back of Pierre’s shirt like a lifeline. “We lost her, P. And the doctor on call was tied up with another patient, so I had to notify the family, and God, it was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. She was only seven.” She looked down at her scrub top. “I have to go throw this in the washing machine before the stain sets.”

Pierre pulled back slightly, gently taking the navy shirt from her, giving a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll do it. You need to rest. Take a shower, or a bath, get into some comfortable clothes. I’ll take care of dinner.”

It was almost forty-five minutes later when Laurel finally emerged from the bathroom, clad in high school sweats and a faded Blue Jackets t-shirt. “I hope you didn’t mind that I took this one,” she said, picking at a loose thread on the bottom hem, “I hadn’t gotten to laundry yet this week.”

“It’s fine, Laur,” Pierre said, plating chicken stir-fry and rice. Cooking together had become one of their things; Pierre certainly wasn’t as hopeless as some people she had met, and he was right that he made an excellent salmon. But they couldn’t eat fish every day of the week, so Laurel broke out one of her few cookbooks and they had been making their way through the recipes together. They had finished breakfast and were making their way through poultry. Hence, chicken stir-fry. “You look better in it anyways.”

They ate in silence, her half-heartedly picking up forkfuls of rice only to put them down again. She smiled weakly at Pierre. “The food’s good, I swear. I just don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”

“I get that,” he said. “How about I put this in away in the fridge and you can get a yogurt or something? You don’t have to have a full meal, but you should eat something. We can watch something after, or you can go to bed if you’re not feeling up to it. Your call.”

“TV sounds nice, do you still have the old Parks & Rec recorded?” Laurel needed something she didn’t need to pay attention to, something that could just be background noise as she tried to sift through the emotions of her day and try to make sense of it all.

He nodded. “Wouldn’t get rid of it before asking, I know how much you love it.”

They were curled up on the couch together a few minutes later, a striped blanket thrown over Laurel’s lap despite the weather outside still lingering in the mid 70s. It wasn’t for warmth, not really; it was for comfort. Pierre’s arm was slung over her back, his thumb absentmindedly moving across her upper arm. She leaned into his touch, hardly paying attention to the show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You don’t have to, but it might help.” He wasn’t an expert by any means, but Pierre obviously knew that people died in hospitals, in intensive care units even more so. Which meant that there was an almost surefire chance that she had had people die on her watch, die on her shift. Had children die on her watch. And that didn’t mean she was a bad nurse or a bad person, but just that sometimes there were illnesses and injuries so severe that even the best medical care in the province couldn’t save them. So why was this one impacting her so intensely? Had she reacted this way before, with Madeline or her coworkers, and he just hadn’t seen it before? Or was there something different about this case, about that girl that made it hit closer to home for some reason?

Laurel took a shaky breath. “I know you’re right, that it’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up inside. But that’s what I’m used to, you know? I love my job, I do, but you have to compartmentalize sometimes. With this one, it’s just…” She searched for the right words. “It was so immediate, so in front of me, that I didn’t have any time to reach beyond trying to save her life. I didn’t think, I just went based on instinct and training. And she still died.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Laurel,” Pierre said firmly. “You did everything you could, you did everything right.”

“I know that,” she sniffed, “but it’s so hard to believe sometimes. That if I had gotten there a few seconds sooner, or if the crash team had been a little earlier, she might have survived. And I wouldn’t have had to tell a mother and father that their daughter was dead.” Pierre felt terrible, like there was nothing he could do, because there was nothing he could do, not apart from sit and listen. “I think it was different this time because I finally saw myself in their shoes, I obviously don’t have kids, not yet, but I imagined what it was like to have to be on the receiving end of that news, and it tore me apart, P.” Her voice cracked, and his heart broke. “Being the mom to a beautiful child and then all of the sudden having them all of the sudden stripped away? No longer living? I know that life’s not fair, but fuck, I thought I thought it would be a little better than this.”

Her voice went silent, and Pierre took the opportunity to speak. “It’s not fair, and I think part of what makes you so good at what you do is the fact that you recognize that. You’re so dedicated to giving everyone that comes through those doors the best care, because you genuinely believe that they deserve it. And that’s incredible. You don’t get complacent, you’re never satisfied with just doing things adequately and just enough to get by. You give everything 110%, and that’s how I know the kind of incredible person you are.” He paused. “And I think every parent worries about their kid getting sick, or getting hurt. I know mine did, and I’d be willing to bet yours were the same way. Worrying means you care. And you care the most deeply, the most genuinely, out of anyone I’ve ever met. And I know, when the time comes, that you’ll make an amazing mother. Whoever gets to do that with you will be a lucky man.”

“You really think so?”

Pierre slipped his hand into hers. “Positive.”

September 10 (fri)

Laurel’s fingers tapped nervously on the counter as she waited for Pierre to bring the last of his bags from the bedroom. He didn’t usually schlep a ton of things back-and-forth from Montréal to Columbus every time he needed to travel, but his ticket came with two free checked bags and if there was one thing Pierre-Luc Dubois was, it was efficient. It was the middle of September, and that meant training camps. That meant leaving Québec. That meant Ohio. That meant not seeing Pierre for weeks at a time, when the longest they had been apart since July was a two-day trip to Québec City Laurel took with her parents when they visited in August. Over the past two months, they had settled into a routine, and that routine was about to be broken. Grocery shopping, him washing the dishes while she dried, falling asleep together and waking up with legs tangled in the middle of the bed. She knew that he liked his coffee with a little bit of cream and more sugar, that Georgia got fussy if she wasn’t let out in the morning but Paul was more of a night owl, that dessert wasn’t supposed to be on his meal plan every day but that she could always get him to break for a slice of peach pie. He knew that she needed two Advil on the first day of her period because one just wouldn’t cut it, that her favorite Disney princess was Jasmine because of her independence, and that she liked to light lavender candles when she was stressed.

Pierre wheeled a bag out of the doorway. “That the last one?” Laurel asked, passing Phil’s leash to him as she held Georgia’s. He nodded. She spun her keys around on her finger. “Got both of your passports?”

Pierre patted his jacket pocket. “Right here.” It was easier for him; he could skip the wait in both countries. Exit Canada with the Canadian, enter the U.S. with the American.

It was 2 and his flight wasn’t until 4:15, but Laurel didn’t trust the traffic and she didn’t trust the wait times at the airport. “Guess we should get going then.”

“Guess we should.” Laurel grabbed one bag and he got the other, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and wheeling it out the door. It only took twenty minutes to get to the airport. Laurel pulled up next to the curb, double-checking the signs to make sure she wasn’t about to get fined for stopping, and put the car into park. Pierre was the first to open his door, grabbing both the dogs; Laurel followed suit a moment later.

“You’ve got to pop the trunk, babe,” Pierre murmured. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Oh, right,” she said, pressing the button on her key. It popped open with a telltale click; Pierre hefted out the black bag, she got the silver one. “Do you know how many people are going to have this exact bag? It’s going to be a nightmare at baggage claim, P” Laurel tried to joke. She always coped with humor.

Pierre laughed, this time a real one. “Fair enough. Guess I’ve got a lot riding on my luggage tags,” he said, flicking one of the offending objects around the handle of the bag, the black one. Laurel handed him the other handle, their fingers brushing as he gripped the metal. He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. He could see the apprehension in her eyes. There were a lot of things that Laurel Klerken did well, really well, but lying was never one of them. She was always an open book. “Hey, don’t look so down, Laur,” he said softly. “I know you’ll be missing your personal space heater and Piper will miss her siblings, but you’re coming to visit in two weeks and it’s going to be amazing. I’ll introduce you to the boys and the other wives, you’ll get to catch one of the preseason games, finally see my place in Columbus. It might be weird being alone for a while, but —” He cut himself off. “Scratch that, it will be weird for a while, for both of us, but we’ll get through it. You’re a great person, and not a terrible wife either. People have done long-distance relationships that were longer distances for more time, and they made it through just fine. You’ll be okay, Laur. We’ll be okay.”

Laurel took an unsteady breath, trying her best to put on a brave face. “Not a terrible wife, huh? Well, you’re not half a bad husband either.” As she spoke, she was thinking over his words. How normal they sounded, but how abnormal that was for them. They weren’t a normal couple, all they really were were friends who got married — right? So why was he saying those things, things that made him seem like a real husband talking to his real wife, things that were making her feel that maybe, just maybe, this marriage wasn’t as much of a hoax as the thought it was? And it was only because of that, only because she was either reading way too much into a situation that wasn’t even there or was the premier of reading people’s body language and being able to parse out their unsaid words, that she did what she did next. She threw her arms around her husband, and she kissed him.

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