#but i don't know (´ . .̫ . `) sometimes i wonder if I'm on the ace spectrum but idk and every time i think too much abt it i want
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— We just want the best for you
pairings: lia walti x reader, caitlin foord x reader, katie mccabe x reader, leah williamson x reader
summary: reader has only ever wanted her mums' to work together and finally they both seem to be in agreement with one another.
this ones' been drafted for a while, but i found it a bit hard to get it written the way that i wanted it too...
anyways, i hope this lives up to the expectations and stuff.
let me know what you think!
"So, how long has this been going on for?" Lia questions, breaking the silence in the room between the three of you after the not so awkward hug with her ex-girlfriend.
"A while," You admit while biting your bottom lip as you move to sit on the sofa in the living room in Caitlins' home.
Caitlin furrows her eyebrow in concern as she follows you into the room, "Why didn't you tell us about it before, kiddo?" She wonders.
You think about your mums' question for a second or two. You honestly wish you could have told them both, but could you when all they seem to do is argue with eachother whenever they're in the same room for longer than 5 minutes?
"Well, I couldn't do that," You murmer, picking at the skin on your finger nails; A nervous habit you'd picked up when your stuck in a situation like the current one that you're facing.
"Y/N, wait, what are you talking about?" Lia catches up to you both in the unfamiliar living room, having not been here too often for her own benefit. "We're your parents, sweetheart. You know that you can come and talk to us any time at all!" She insists.
"Like its' so easy to do that?" You think to yourself, continuing to pick at the skin on your finger nails.
Caitlin nods in agreement, "Your Mamas' right, kiddo. We're here for you, depsite what has happened. You know this!" The Aussie tries to reassure you, placing her hand gently on your knee.
"I can't though, can I?" You can't help but scoff, "Cos' you two are always fighting and you didn't even realise what was going on! You just put it down to me acting out at school, but you didn't think there was anything going on to cause it!" You don't mean to shout, but you can't help the frustration in your voice about it all.
"We... We don't argue all the time kiddo," Caitlins' taken back by your words.
"Yes you do!" You exclaim in disbelief and shake your head. "That's all you do whenever you two are in the same room as each other-- All you do is argue!"
"Y/N, sweetheart," Lia tries to speak.
"It's true, Mama!" You throw your hands up in the air in protest, "You two seriously can't even get along, ever!" You exclaim, knowing that you speak nothing but the truth when it comes' to your two mums' not getting along.
You start to feel like its' a turning point when Lia and Caitlin look at one another with the same concerned look.
Finally!
"You're right, kiddo. We're sorry," Caitlin states in realisation.
"We want to help you, sweetheart. We're going to deal with this," Lia chimes in.
"What? You're going to deal with your issues?" You sacrastically question, trying to fight the urge to roll your eyes.
"Y/N," Lia gives you a pointed look in reference to your newfound attitude.
"What? I'm just speaking the truth and you know I'm right!" You huff in defiance, glancing between the two of them. "Whys' it always got to be so difficult for the two of you to just get along? I need you both!" You exclaim.
Your mums' seperation wasn't the easiest to deal with, you're not entirely sure what happened, but your not blind to see that Lia holds a certain resentment towards Caitlin now, along with Katie to an extent.
Sometimes you wish things could just be simple like they used to be.
"We're going to try for you kiddo," Caitlin declares, sharing a look with her ex before she smiles reassuringly at you. "Whatever you need, we're both here for you, kiddo." She adds.
"O... Okay then," You murmer in agreement.
"So, what's the next step then?" Caitlin turns to Lia for her help with the situation.
"We'll go down to the school and talk to the prinicpal, talk to them and tell them whats' been going on," Lia finishes the explanation.
"Right, good," The Aussie women nods in agreement.
"Together," Lia states, pursing her lips together.
Caitlin can't help but scoff slightly, "Are you sure you don't want to take Leah with you instead? Cos' you didn't have much of a problem with that last time." She speaks out of spite, not too keen after what happened the last time you were in trouble at school.
The Swiss women exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "Caitlin, no, I'm not getting into this-- This is about our daughter and whats' best for her!" She insists.
"What would've been best was if I went down to the school instead," Caitlin mumbles, not willing to let it go that easy without a conversation about it.
"Oh, seriously? You're bringing this up again?" Lia looks at the women in disbelief.
"Yes, I am!" Caitlin exclaims, not wanting to back down from argument. "Because its' still relevant!" The women states.
"No its' not," Lia shakes her head in disagreement.
"Yes it is--" Caitlin goes to object.
"You're doin' it again!" You shout aloud over the two of them. "Can you two seriously not argue for once? Seriously!" You can't help the intital anger that comes over you, the two of them agreed to try and push their differences aside to be there for you and less than 10 minutes later, they're once again arguing again.
"Y/N," Lia furrows her eyebrows, confused.
"Kiddo, we're just talking," Caitlin tries to explain.
"This... This is the reason I didn't want to tell you what's been going on! You two are so angry with each other that no matter what the situation is, you always just end up arguing!" You're too angry to care if anyone else can hear whats' going on right now. "You don't care about my feelings or my problems! You're both so selfish!"
"Y/N/N, thats' not true," Caitlin objects.
"It's not true, sweetheart. We do care about you, your the most important thing in the world to us both," Lia chimes in, trying to take a hold of your hand.
You instantly snatch your hand away and scoff at the two of them, "Wow. For once, you both actually agree about something," You murmer, going to stand up from the sofa. "The two of you really need to work out your issues in therapy or something!" With that, you storm off out of the room, making your way to go and find Ella, whos' no doubt still on a TikTok live in her bedroom.
"Y/N--" Lia tries to call you back in.
"Just let her go, Lia," Caitlin stops the Swiss women from going after you. "She needs the time to calm down. I think shes' gone to find Ella." She explains.
The room is completely silent between Lia and Caitlin, so much that you would be able to hear a pin drop in the room but you'll take the positivity of that at least they're not arguing again.
"Shes'... Shes' right, Caitlin," Lia exhales a sigh and glances at the Aussie women for her acknowledgement. "All we do is argue in front of her and it needs to stop." She tells her ex-girlfriend.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Caitlin murmers in agreement with her ex.
"We need to find a way to work together and co-parent. We missed the signs of our daughter being bullied because we're at each others' throats all the time," Lia confesses, shaking her head as she feels awful how she missed it entirely.
Was she so caught up in bickering with her ex that she didn't even realise you were being bullied at school?
"I... I know, Y/N needs to come first," Caitlin insists, wanting to at least be on the page as her ex about her daughters' wellbeing, "Look, if we're gonna do this then we all need to be on the same page, alright?" She wonders.
"Meaning?" Lia questions, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Well I'm with Katie and your with Leah," The Aussie women cuts straight to the chase.
"We're just friends," Lia interjects.
Caitlin scoffs slightly, "Sure, keep telling yourself that. So friends, or whatever you want to call it, we all need to be there to help her out-- I'm guessing Leah's outside?" She asks, knowing full well the blondes' more than likely out in the car.
"Shes' outside in the car," Lia replies in agreement.
"Right, well, you might as well invite her inside then," Caitlin nods and clicks her tongue. "Katie will be home soon as well, so we'll all sit down, the 5 of us and talk." She declares.
"Together?" Lia asks, hesistant about the idea of that.
"Together. United as co-parents," Caitlin nods along in agreement.
Even as hesitant that Lia is about all 4 of them being in the same room with you, she knows that she needs to do what's best for you, "I'll go and get her from outside." She mumbles, standing up from the sofa to go and find the blonde outside.
Right on queue as the front door opens, signalling that Katie is home now.
"And that'll be Katie comin' into the house now," Caitlin gestures to the sound of the front door opening. "Katie, we're in the living room!" She calls to get her girlfriends attention.
"We're? I didn't realise we had company," Katies' playful voice jokes as she walks through the house and is taken back by Lias' appearance in the living room. "Oh hi Lia, I didn't know you'd be popping round. Guess that makes sense why I've just seen Leah outside as well, I did think it was a bit weird." She states, still confused.
"Hi Katie," Lia begrudingly greets the Irish women, knowing that she needs to suck up her dislike for the pair of them to focus on you right now. "I'll go and get her to come inside so we can talk." She stands up and makes her way out of the living room.
Katie sends her girlfriend a confused look, "What have I missed?" She wonders, still trying to figure out what is exactly going on that requires her to sit in a room with her girlfriend, her ex and her own partner, or whatever they are.
"Theres' a lot that we need to talk about... All of us," Caitlin admits, exhaling a sigh.
"Oh," Katie is further puzzled by what is going on. "So, is the kid here as well? I'll go say hi!" She questions, trying to put the pieces together and take a wild guess that you would be here as well.
The Aussie women nods in agreement, "Shes' in the kitchen with your sister I think, she stormed off when Lia and I had a slight disagreement," She confesses. "We need to sit down with her and talk about things."
"Oh. This sounds serious?" Katie asks, concerned but still in her playful jokey manner.
"It is," Caitlin mutters, exhaling a sigh as she pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Cait, what's going on?" Katie furrows her eyebrows in cocnern.
"That's exactly what I want to know," Leahs' voice enters the conversation, joining the couple in the living room as she walks in with Lia following her asking her to join them inside to talk. "What is going on, and why are we here?" She wonders.
"The four of us need to talk," Lia insists, gesturing the blonde to take a seat beside her on the spacious sofa.
"We need to be on the page when it comes to Y/N," Caitlin chimes in.
"Same page about what?" Katie asks, confused.
"Y/N is being bullied," Lia admits quietly, bowing her head slightly.
Leahs' the first to react, "What? Seriously?" She questions, shocked.
"Who is it? I'll fight them!" Katies' straight away shooting up on her feet, although shes' yet to figure out a plan of the next steps.
"For once, I'm with you on that one," Leah mumbles, standing up from the sofa.
"Sit down, the pair of you," Caitlin states, shaking her head. "Neither of you can go and fight a literal child!"
"The hell I can't!" Katie exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "Nobody picks on the kiddo and gets' away with it!" She declares, firmly.
"Whos' been bullying her? We... We have to something about it!" Leahs' protective instinct kicks in, wanting to shield you from any further hurt or suffering at all.
"We will, but fighting another child isn't what's best for Y/N," Lia tells the blonde, giving her a prompt look.
"Then what do we do?" Leah questions, worriedly.
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Caitlin chimes in.
Katie snorts and a slight smirk appears on her face, "I still think fighting them is a viable option." She jokes, half serious about the fact of it.
Leah frowns and bites her bottom lip, "Why didn't she tell anyone?" She asks, confused about it.
"Shes' been stuck between me and Caitlin arguing, so its' no wonder she kept it quiet," Lia admits, rubbing her temples before she exhales a sigh. "None of that is a good environment for Y/N to be around and it can't continue." She tells them all.
"So going forward, we put whatever problems or differences we have with eachother aside, for Y/N's sake-- She's what is important now, we can't bicker in front of her. We need to stand united if we want to help her!" Caitlin is remaining strong in what she says, she's not exactly on the best of terms with her ex but when it comes to her daughters' wellbeing, she doesn't play at all.
"That's fair enough," Katies' the first to agree.
Leah follows suit and nods in agreement, "I agree with you, Y/N is what matters." She states.
"All of us are an important person of Y/N's life, she needs us all to be there for her," Lia starts to explain as she looks around the room between the four of them. "Katie, you and Caitlin are together, you obviously make each other very happy and Y/N clearly loves to spend time with you all here." She tells the Irish women.
Katie faintly smiles, "I love the kid like shes' me own."
"And Leah, whatever you and Lia have going on," Caitlin pauses, glancing between her ex and the blonde. "Whether there's a label on it or not, your someone who Y/N looks up to, regardless." She tells her.
Leah smiles in agreement, "Shes' a good kid, I love her."
"That's why we need to get on with eachother, for Y/N's sake if nothing else, okay?" Lia stands her ex on her words, when it comes to her daughter, shes' willing to do what she has too, even if it means hanging out with her ex girlfriend and her new beau sometimes.
"Yeah," Katie and Leah both reply in sync.
"Right, and with that being said. Now we need to speak to kiddo," Caitlin says, motioning in the direction of where you are in the kitchen with Ella still. "I'll go and get her, I'll be back in a minute." Leaving the room, Lia is left with Katie and Leah, who are currently scowling at each other.
"I don't care what grudges the two of you have, we all need to remain civil with eachother for Y/N's sake, alright? We might not agree with somethings that are said, but whatever it is, we keep it away from Y/N, deal?" Lia firmly speaks, glancing between the two women.
"Deal," The blonde agrees.
"Yeah, yeah deal. Anything for the kiddo," Katie replies.
"Mum, I don't wanna talk about things-- Uh, what's going on?" Your protest is cut short, being forced out of the kitchen as you walk into the living room and your met with not just Lia, but Leah and Katie now as well.
"Here she is," Caitlin speaks aloud, walking back into the living room with you in tow.
"Hi kiddo," Katies' waving in your direction.
"Hi Katie," You politely smile and wave back at the Irish women before you furrow your eyebrows. "Uhhh, am I in trouble?" You ask, confused.
Leah can't help but laugh slightly, "What makes you think that, kid?" She questions.
"The four of you are in one room together, and that never happens," You comment, glancing round between all 4 older women. "Like ever." You mumble.
"Well shes' got a point there," Katie snickers in amusement.
"You're not in trouble, sweetheart. Why don't you come and sit down?" Lia offers, patting the empty space on the sofa between her and Leah.
Your hesistant to walk over and plonk yourself in between the two of them, "Are you sure I'm not in trouble?" You ask, worriedly.
Caitlin chuckles and shakes her head, "You're not in trouble, kiddo. We just want to talk to you about things." She explains.
"Oh. Talk about what?" You cock your head to the side in confusion.
"Listen sweetheart, you were right about what you said about your mum and I fighting all the time and we're not gonna do it anymore," Lia begins to tell you, making you listen intently.
"You mean you guys are gonna take my advice and go to therapy to sort out your issues?" You perk up, glancing between Lia and Caitlin.
"What?" Leah asks, confused.
"I love this kid," Katie laughs in amusement.
"We're not going to go to therapy, kiddo--" Caitlin starts to tell you.
"Why? Cos' you all definitely need it!" You further insist, throwing your hands up in the air.
"Y/N, we want to talk to you about the bullying instead," Lia takes the conversation in a serious direction. "We need to talk about it." She adds.
"Oh," You instantly clam up and go quiet, trying to stay reserved when talking about this subject.
"How longs' it been going on for?" Leah gently approaches the situation.
"A few months," You admit, biting you bottom lip. "It wasn't that bad at first, but gradually, it got worse, like more physical and that." You tell all of them in the room.
"I still think fighting them would be a better to resolve things," Katie pipes in.
"Katie, no..." Caitlin shakes her head in her girlfriends' direction.
You start to pick at the skin around your nails again, "I didn't want to tell anyone and be a bother, and well things haven't exactly been easy, I... I didn't know what to do." You admit, quietly.
Lias' heart clenches hearing your honest words, "We're going to sort this out, sweetheart." She states, firmly.
"Your mama and I are going to go down to the school, we'll get to the bottom of things and figure out what we can do," Caitlin adds in, making it well known to you that she's serious about this. "You're not a bother kiddo. You can always talk to us, no matter what's going on."
"This is the reason you've been acting out, isn't it?" Lia speaks up in realisation.
"I guess so, uh... I thought maybe if I acted out then I would get both of your attention and then you'd be in the same room together," You confess, biting your bottom lip as you try and not look in the direction of either Lia or Caitlin. "But all you seem to have done recently is fight with another so that backfired I guess." You mumble, ducking your head down in shame.
"Well that stops now. Right, Caitlin?" Lia turns to look at Caitlin.
Caitlin nods in agreement, "Agreed, we're your mums' and we're going to be here for you to figure this out together."
"I wish you could have told us sooner, kiddo," Katie speaks up as she frowns.
"I didn't know what to say," You mumble quietly.
"We love you Y/N and we don't want to see you struggle with anything," Leah chimes in, having the same thoughts that she just wants to protect the kid that's not even hers.
It's ony now that you suddenly realise how cold and distant you've been acting towards Leah for no apparent reason when all she wants to do is be there for you, "I'm sorry for the way I have been acting towards you Le," Your quick to apologise to her. "Your still my favourite stern blondie."
"I feel like that's a backhanded compliment there kid," Leah jokes with you, ruffling your hair as she has the advantage while sitting beside you.
"Be glad you got one, Le," You can't help but grin.
Something which all 4 women are happy to see you starting to return to your old-self, despite the challenges you've faced over the last few months.
"We love you, Y/N," Caitlin states, gently.
Lia wraps her free arm around her daughter, "Your our daughter, we just want to help you the best way that we can." She tells you, kindly.
"We want our happy little kid back, so we're gonna sort it out, alright?" Leah declares, firmly.
"And we'll hurt anyone who tries to hurt you," Katie finishes with a determined look on her face.
"No we won't Katie, we're responsible adults. We're not going to hurt other kids!" Caitlin promptly continues to tell her girlfreind.
"Speak for yourself, they don't call me McCard for no reason, you know?" Katie jokes with her girlfriend before she looks you dead in the eye. "Anyone hurts you kiddo and there'll be hell to pay."
© scribblesofagoonerr
#acting out fic#lia walti x reader#caitlin foord x reader#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#katie mccabe x reader#woso fanfics#woso one shot#scribblesofagoonerr#woso imagine
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we'll just pretend ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
not friends not lovers... erm what are we
⇴ person a's arms are wrapped around person b's shoulders while person b is scrolling on their phone. person c is looking at them incredulously.
⇴ dating rumors but they don't deny them
⇴ "so you wouldn't mind if i got with person c, right?" "no, i would mind." "...why?" (silence)
⇴ feeling truly happy with specifically the other person. they bring out something so personal and guarded by being around them.
⇴ nobody makes person b laugh harder than person a. even when person a isn't trying to be funny, person b is so giggly around a that all their friends look at b as if they're crazy.
⇴ "person a? what? no, we're just friends." "but you wish there was more, don't you?" "oh you have no idea."
⇴ person a's future isn't right if person b isn't right next to them. bonus points if it's something especially insane like person a and b live together and have a family.
⇴ person a + b are sitting in a car together late at night just talking, and then person b's eyes are hyper-focused on person a's lips and person a is about to short-circuit.
⇴ "and so... um–so i was saying..." "keep going." (person b says while staring at person a's lips)
⇴ "why are you here? i thought you'd want to be out with your friends right now." "yeah, well i wanted to be with you more. you're one of my friends too, anyway." (person a and b both die inside after this)
⇴ "well obviously i'm never gonna tell them! they matter so much to me, romantic interest or not. how could i ever live with myself if i messed up all of that?"
⇴ "i know what's real, and i know what's fool's gold. is there anything genuine between us or not?"
⇴ person a mentions something offhandedly, but person b remembers it forever (bonus points of b gets it/does it for a)
⇴ "sometimes, i wonder if you're real. it's like you're made for me." person a hesitates after saying that to person b, "you're my best friend."
⇴ person b can't take it anymore and grabs person a's face, hinging themselves onto person a's lips because they've (person b) wanted this for so long.
#keyotosprompts#fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#writing prompts#otp prompts#writeblr#writing#otp writing#imagine your otp#dialogue prompts#romance prompts#prompts#story prompts#writing prompt#writing ideas#romance writing#prompt list#writing inspo#creative writing#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#otp ideas
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Ceiling sex with villain!miguel.
Reader is wanting to play around with miguel so she is up on the cieling trying to get him to chase her. Next thing she knows is that miguel has her pinned with thier cum mixing and dripping on the floor.
When Villain!Miguel dominates I mean, hell yeah! Always down for more Villain!Miguel!
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, ceiling sex, breeding kink, slight bondage
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Everything was perfect.
Your life was perfect.
Ever since you married Miguel, your life was perfect. Miguel made sure that you were well taken care of and that you had everything you needed. All this, just because you were his wife. You were his good girl.
It was the middle of winter and Miguel was being extra cautious with you. Sometimes you joined him for work, but only if you wore a ton of layers and heat technology. Most of the days; however, you stayed home and helped Miguel via the tablet.
Miguel wanted to make sure you stayed warm so that your body wouldn't be affected in case he finally impregnated you. Miguel needed you to always be healthy.
"Miguel, don't forget about your appointment coming up." You said over the tablet, watching Miguel work on something, "I know you're invested in that gizmo, but the shareholders-"
"Aye, it's much easier when you are here," Miguel said with an annoyed sigh, taking off his glasses to glance at you, "Lyla, send someone to get me out of here."
"Miggy, that's mean," You chuckled, "You know that I'm the only one who can get you to stop without crying."
"Heh, it's more fun when you do," Miguel watched as your face turned bright red, "How are you fairing? Chilled?"
"Hehe, no. I'm warm and cozy. Might start cleaning in a bit while you're working."
"Alright," Miguel leaned back, sighing heavily, "I'll be home late. I'm supposed to receive a key to the city,"
"Oh! Good job!!" You cheered.
Miguel just chuckled darkly since you were so naïve. He wasn't receiving a key to the city out of the goodness of his deeds, no. The major and governor of the state had to give it to him as a sign of fear. A sign that Miguel was in charge of everything.
As Kingpin and Spider-Man.
You were adorable thinking anything but the sort, but that it how Miguel groomed you. His cute little foolish wife.
"I'll see you later, (Y/N). My prey has arrived."
"Yes, sir~" You chirped.
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You were humming as you cleaned. Miguel should be home any minute now and you needed to finish. Looking around the place, you wondered if everything was spotless for Miguel. Glancing up, you gasped realizing that you could clean the ceiling.
A challenging task for everyone, but not you!
Chuckling as you walked onto the cleaning, you cheered to a task that no one else could do. Every little dust spot that you would normally struggle with was nothing compared to you now.
"Oh? That's new," Miguel hummed as he entered his place.
"Welcome home! Give me a second and I'll be down-"
"No, stay."
You titled your head in confusion, but gasped as Miguel webbed your hands behind your back. He jumped onto the ceiling, walking over to you with a clear smirk.
You gave your husband a slight pout, wondering what he was planning. Miguel easily stripped you of your clothes as he kissed your neck. Unable to move your hands, you whined softly as you tried to convince Miguel to move elsewhere.
"No, this might be perfect." Miguel muttered as his fingers dipped into your sex.
"Hah~ B-But...Miggy~"
"Shh,"
You whimpered as Miguel webbed your mouth. His fingers pumping inside of you as you moaned and whined. It felt strange as he toyed with you upside down. The blood was rushing to your head, causing you to feel lightheaded.
Shuddering as you cam, you whimpered against Miguel, wanting to change places. Miguel ignored you and lifted you up, easily sliding his cock inside your cunt. Your body trembled as you tried your best to hold onto Miguel, but couldn't since you were tied up.
"Squeezing me so tight. Knew this might be for the best," Miguel whispered in your ear.
You could feel your eyes roll backwards as you moaned towards his thrusts. He was slapping into you so roughly. His every thrust had him kissing your cervix.
"This way...not a single drop will escape. Who would have thought it be so hard to get your pregnant...But I suppose, nh, it would take some time."
Miguel's words were blurring with each other as you focused on his cock. It was hard to think as he fucked you upside down. Every drop of his cum entering your womb, unable to escape.
"Hm? Got something to say?" Miguel chuckled as he removed the webbing from your mouth, "What's my good girl thinking?"
"Ah~ P-Please...m-more. I-I want your baby~" You cried out, feeling drunk off his cock.
Miguel just chuckled darkly as he whispered 'good girl' in your ear repeatedly. His thrusts getting rougher and faster as thoughts of breeding you grew more intense. This might be it. This might be the way for you to have his children.
You were a babbling mess as you moaned and cried for more. Miguel held your waist close, making sure that he filled you.
After a few more rounds, Miguel had to stop since you lost consciousness. Concerned about being upside down for too long, Miguel placed you on the bed and made sure to take care of you. He didn't need a hospital trip anytime soon.
"But this doesn't mean we won't do it again," Miguel chuckled as he stroked your cheek.
He wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
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Hope you enjoyed! Sorry if it was rushed, going on hiatus in a few days!!!
#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel x fem!reader
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AITA for getting tubal ligation, eloping with my two girlfriends, adopting a cat and moving out, all in two weeks and without telling my mother?
🏥💍🐈🏠
So, I (F, 21) have been planning for a long time to sort out my life. I live in a European country, I'm in college and work part-time. For years, I've been saving up money to get financially independent as fast as possible and move out of my parents' apartment. I also wanted to have enough to pay for tubal ligation procedure, because I don't ever want children and would feel much more at ease when I'm certain that I can't physically get pregnant. My mother from the beginning was very against that idea, telling me I'll change my mind later and not to do anything permanent.
Two years ago, I've met two wonderful women, A (26) and K (23) on a discord server dedicated to our shared hobby (writing fanfiction). We'd been talking and messaging for months, eventually creating our own server and sharing our irl names and faces. It naturally progressed to a point where we chose to call it a relationship (I'm on the aroace spectrum, we're all neurodivergent and have a weird relationships with gender so it's not a traditional romantic/sexual relationship by any means). We're all from the same country so we met up a few times before deciding to all move to one city and live together. K and I are finishing our bachelor's degrees and A works from home so there weren't any obstacles. We found a flat and A moved in, waiting for me and K.
My mother knew I was bisexual and dating A and K, but thought again that it was "just a phase" and that we were only friends pretending to date for some reason. I love my parents, they are great and supportive people but sometimes it can be so exhausting to convince them of something when they believe they're absolutely right. So, I just stopped talking to my mother about my relationship and plans for the future. I visited A (and K after she moved in) in our apartment without permanently staying there yet.
A, K and I got an idea to celebrate us finishing college and A getting a job promotion by going abroad for a week. K jokingly suggested that we could visit another country and get married (gay marriage is still illegal in our country). Obviously, polyamorous marriages are not legal anywhere in Europe, but A told us at the beginning of our relationship that she never wanted to get legally married for personal reasons (but a non-binding marriage ceremony was fine with her). So, all three of us could have a ceremony and K and me could get legally married (the marriage still wouldn't be legally recognized in our country though). Then I also realized that I could get a tubal ligation in the country which we wanted to travel to (tubal ligation procedure is also illegal in our country).
I knew my mother would be against both of those decisions and I didn't want to argue with her the entire time before I left abroad. So, I just told her I'm going on holidays with my two friends for a week and she accepted that. I've also been slowly moving a lot of my stuff from my room in my parents' apartment to our apartment and was ready to completely relocate.
Anyway, the wedding went great (the witnesses were six people we knew from the discord server where we first met, who lived close by and could get to the wedding site easily), my operation went great, the trip was great, and just as we returned a friend asked if we wanted a kitten, because their cat had recently had some. We agreed.
When I was sure everything was settled, I called my mother and told her about the wedding, the operation, the move and the kitten. She was shocked and angry, said she felt disappointed and betrayed I hadn't told her about any of my plans, didn't even invite her to the wedding and that I damaged my body and would regret having my tubes tied. I tried explaining that I didn't know how she would react, that based on our previous interactions I hadn't thought she'd be supportive and that I wanted make my decisions without also having endure her disapproval. She cried, told me I hurt her and to give her some time to deal with all the revelations.
I feel terrible for upsetting my mom, but honestly, I think I did the right thing and that informing her beforehand would've ruined my mood and I'd have had to argue with her on the phone constantly during the trip.
So, Tumblr, AITA?
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Saw your latest art about Chara.
Absolutely love it!
Although I can’t help but wonder, what is your take on Chara anyway? Sorry for asking, I’m just curious.
Oh, no problem! Umm it's.... complicated? lol. Chara is a pretty broad subject...... I think they were a very troubled kid who, in all honestly, probably wasn't very good to Asriel as a friend or a sibling. They could be pushy, violent, and manipulative. They loved Asriel, as much as Asriel loved them, but sometimes that isn't enough, and who knows whether they intentionally poisoned Asgore or not, or why they laughed about it later.... it's been common to justify or try and explain Chara's more questionable actions as misunderstood or taken out of context, but tbh I don't think we actually need to do that. I don't think, even in the worst case scenario where Chara purposefully hurt their family at every moment we see it, that makes them a demon, or irredeemable, or that they even NEED to be redeemed. At the end of the day, Chara was a child who committed suicide- whether the intended outcome was to free monsterkind or to destroy humanity, or just to die. Even with the least charitable interpretations taken as gospel, shouldn't they still be worthy of love? Isn't the whole point of Undertale that anybody can become a friend and be understood, if only you reach out to them?
(I'm also a firm believer that Chara is the narrator no matter the route, which informs a lot of their personality to me, and also means that we get to decide their arc as a ghost. That makes way more sense to me than a story like this just going uhhh yeah that kid was pure evil the whole time or whatever lol.)
#asks#suicide tw#if you want my thoughts on any specific aspect of chara or their lore........ my inbox is always open.........
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Hi! I used to read this comic back in the day (last thing I remember is everyone mad that you didn't draw 'Earl's pink spots and consolidated it into the shorts. Idk when that was, might try to catch up) nice it's still going. I was just wondering, how do you handle the blog in-universe? (obviously stuff from you isn't canon and such, steven set up a blog iirc, but we're basically omniscient other dimensional people who see everything? (like, the pure story stuff with no asks) Because we know so much from the og show already and the goings-on and personal moments and such. I hope this made sense. (I'm thinking of starting my own character ask blog haha)
Ahhh, the good old days...
...how do you handle the blog in-universe?
Great question. The reality is... I really kinda don't.
I try not to overthink that part of it, because while the asks DO drive the story forward, they don't really direct it, if that makes sense. I pick which asks to post, which means I'm directing. The asks are just a vehicle, and thus, I don't really wanna focus on whether it's a clown car or a Mercedes Benz.
...we're basically omniscient other dimensional people who see everything?
Not quite! Although I do let a few meta asks slip through the narrative, for the most part, I stubbornly ignore any asks that try to spoil the plot for Steven. So not the "omniscient other dimensinal people" part. Just regular people who read the blog!
The in-story explanation is that Steven writes down what happens, even if there are no asks to accompany the story. He posts photos sometimes, and describes his adventures. This is kind of like Steven's personal diary? That's why you're all privy to most of what goes on in the story.
Granted, sometimes I bend or break the rules for that, if it serves the plot better. So, you know... the car has a bit of a Fred Flinstone vibe to it.
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night patrol
during a quiet night patrol, you and bakugo engage in deep conversation, sharing thoughts about what life might be like without the constant demands of hero work.
----
the city was quiet as you and bakugo patrolled the streets, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves providing a serene backdrop to your nightly duty. the moon cast a soft glow, illuminating the path ahead and highlighting the strong features of your partner's face. bakugo walked beside you, his usual scowl softened by the calm of the night.
"so, how's patrol treating you?" you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you.
bakugo glanced at you, his red eyes reflecting the moonlight. "it's fine. quiet, but i guess that's a good thing."
you nodded, appreciating his straightforward answer. bakugo wasn't one for small talk, but you'd learned to understand his unspoken words and subtle gestures. tonight, however, something felt different. there was a tension in the air, an unspoken feeling hanging between you.
as you continued your patrol, you couldn't help but steal glances at bakugo. despite his explosive personality, you'd grown to admire his determination and strength. there was more to him than met the eye, and tonight you felt a pull to know him better.
"bakugo," you began, choosing your words carefully, "do you ever think about what it would be like if things were different? if we didn't have to patrol and fight all the time?"
he looked at you, surprise flickering in his eyes before he quickly masked it. "what do you mean?"
"i mean, what if we had normal lives? what would you be doing right now?"
bakugo stopped walking, considering your question. "i don't know. i've never really thought about it. being a hero is all i've ever wanted."
you smiled softly, finding his dedication admirable. "it's good to be passionate about what you do. but sometimes, i wonder what it would be like to have a normal life, too."
he studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "and what would you be doing if you weren't here, on patrol with me?"
the question caught you off guard. you hadn't expected him to turn it back on you. "i don't know. maybe i'd be at home, reading a book or watching a movie. something relaxing."
bakugo grunted in response, resuming his pace. "sounds boring."
you laughed, the sound echoing through the empty streets. "not everything has to be exciting, bakugo. sometimes, it's the quiet moments that mean the most."
he didn't respond immediately, and you wondered if you'd said something wrong. but then he spoke, his voice softer than usual. "i guess… i wouldn't mind having more quiet moments."
you looked at him, surprised by his admission. "really?"
he nodded, avoiding your gaze. "yeah. i mean, being a hero is great and all, but… sometimes it's nice to just… be."
the honesty in his words touched you. "i understand. i'm glad we have this time together, even if it's just for patrol."
bakugo stopped again, this time turning to face you fully. "you know, you're not so bad to have around."
your heart skipped a beat at his words. "thanks, bakugo. you're not so bad yourself."
he scoffed, but there was no malice in it. "don't get used to it."
you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. the night seemed even quieter now, the space between you and bakugo charged with an unspoken connection. as you continued your patrol, the silence was no longer awkward but comforting, a testament to the bond you were forming.
eventually, you found yourself at the top of a hill, overlooking the city. the view was breathtaking, the lights twinkling like stars beneath the night sky. you and bakugo stood side by side, taking in the sight.
"it's beautiful," you murmured.
"yeah," bakugo agreed, his voice unusually gentle.
you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. In that moment, everything else faded away. the city, the patrol, the responsibilities, they all disappeared, leaving just the two of you.
"bakugo," you whispered, "thank you for being here with me."
he reached out, taking your hand in his. his grip was firm, yet comforting. "i'm glad you're here too."
as the night stretched on, you and bakugo stayed on that hill, sharing quiet conversations and enjoying the rare tranquility. in that peaceful moment, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.
#anime#mha#bnha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#katsuki bakugou#faithfulren
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Jealousy?
MC
"Would you mind answering a question for me?" Barbatos asks me once we've exchanged pleasantries and settled down in the parlor.
"Depends on the question." A faint smile crosses his lips.
"I was just wondering how you could choose to associate yourself with Solomon." The irritation in his voice is rather evident, and I'm reminded of the staredown the two men engaged in a couple days ago.
"What do you have against him?" I sound a bit too defensive for my liking. I'm not trying to pick a fight with Barbatos; I simply want to know why he seems to detest the sorcerer so much.
He sighs before replying,
"Perhaps the version of Solomon that accompanied you here has cleaned up his act--and good for him if he has--but the one I know is fiendish, a blight upon the world, and destruction incarnate. He throws anyone he can under the bus if it meant avoiding trouble for himself. Being here for an extended period of time may cause your sorcerer to revert back to old habits, and I don't want to see you get hurt."
"Why? You hardly know me."
"You're right." He pauses. "I'm not sure, really. I mean, you seem like a good, honest person, but what do I know? Maybe you're just as bad as him, and I shouldn't have even bothered taking you under my wing." While coming from a practical place, his words do sting.
"And yet you did." Barbatos sighs again.
"And yet I did," he repeats, taking a sip of his tea. "The decision came from a gut feeling I had, and those rarely fail me. I just hope that you don't prove me wrong."
My turn to drink some tea.
I'm not used to Barbatos being this open about his emotions, especially while he's on duty. Perhaps time has granted him the ability to remain calm and composed when he's on the clock, but still. It'll be a bit before I get used to this particular attitude of his.
"Are you ready for your first lesson?" he asks, pulling me out of my head and back to the present moment. It takes me a second to remember exactly why I'm over at the castle today in the first place, but once I do, I quickly nod my head.
"Good. We'll start with a fairly basic anatomy topic: pheromones." Interesting place to start. Is he finally going to let me ask the question I had about Lucifer?
"In a lot of ways, demons bear a closer resemblance to animals than to humans," he continues. "While their strength in the latter is fairly minimal, the former uses them as a effective method of communication. Our pheromones can tell others what we're feeling as well as mark our territory, among other things.
"Demons have a baseline scent that's present no matter what they do. For example, I smell like mint, and Lord Diavolo like old leather. Different pheromones will bring out specific notes of the baseline scent. Positive emotions tend to make it sweeter, while negative emotions bring out its bitter and sour side. If those emotions are tied to one of the seven sins, then the scent becomes more potent, sometimes to the point of being nauseating to anyone that happens to catch a whiff.
"Am I making sense to you so far?" I nod my head. I don't have any questions yet, but I have a feeling that even if I did, Barbatos wouldn't let me ask any of them just yet.
"Now, Lucifer and his brothers have stayed in the castle for the last couple months, and in that time, I've picked up on all of their scents. Lucifer had one of the more pungent ones. Understandably so, since he's probably the most emotionally scarred from the war, but it got to the point where I couldn't be around him for longer than a few minutes. And making some of my favorite dishes proved to be impossible after a while, for even the smallest amount of nutmeg would make my stomach turn.
"But the moment you returned his credit card to him, Lucifer's scent noticeably shifted. For once, he actually smelled pleasant. And then it became stronger. By the time he left my side, I was craving a giant slice of coffee cake." At this point, he stops talking, allowing me to finally speak.
"So, you're telling me that my simple nice gesture was enough to turn him on?"
"It would appear that way, yes." Unbelievable. "If I pointed it out at the time, though, Solomon probably would have run after Lucifer to tease him about it, and that would most definitely piss Lucifer off. Plus, he would adamantly denied feeling that way at all, and given his initial behavior towards you, I didn't want to see you upset by him completely disregarding your kindness."
As I mull over Barbatos' words, I'm suddenly reminded of a specific moment. One where Lucifer had his mouth covered with a handkerchief, looking like he was about to throw up.
I wonder...
"If it's not too much trouble, would you mind telling me what I smell like?" I ask, causing Barbatos to smile.
"Not at all. In fact, I was just getting ready to ask you if you wanted to know, so this works out great." He sets his tea down on a nearby table and gets up, walking around and stopping behind the chair I'm sitting in. I momentarily feel part of his face on top of my head as he audibly sniffs. I'm sure that if someone walked past us right now, they'd be weirded out by what they saw.
Or maybe not. I don't know if intentionally smelling someone like this is standard demon behavior. Maybe it is, and I'm overthinking it.
"Vanilla buttercream frosting," Barbatos announces. Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. It at least explains a few things, if nothing else. Frosting can get overwhelmingly sweet.
"That might actually work," he mutters to himself as he sits back down.
"What would?" Barbatos finishes his tea before clasping his hands in front of him.
"There's a creature on the grounds that needs tamed. He's both ferocious and extremely dangerous, so Lord Diavolo had me put a spell on him to prevent anyone from coming into contact with him. If I told you how to undo the spell, would you like to take a stab at it?"
"What makes you think I'd be successful?"
"You don't smell threatening."
"No; I smell like a goddamn dessert. The creature will probably think I'm food and try to eat me."
"And if that's the case, I'll bail you out." He pauses. "There are creatures like this one that are very selective about who they will submit to, and I believe that you fit this particular one's criteria. Plus, you'll earn the title "Ruler of the Underworld", and you can use that as a way to get people to quit treating the brothers like shit." I find myself snorting in amusement.
"Like a mere title is going to make people change their entire ideology."
"People can think whatever they like. They just have to learn to keep some of those thoughts to themselves or else face severe consequences." The grin on his face is lowkey terrifying. I don't know if I want to be on the wrong end of that smile.
So, I end up agreeing to take on the responsibility of taming this creature.
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr
#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me mc#obey me barbatos#obey me lucifer#this is one of at least a few examples of me flipping the roles of different characters to create a sort of mirror universe#i just think it would be interesting
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paper rings | harvey x f!reader
Harvey remembers when he thought you were the love of his life; you don't seem to recall a time like that at all.
After inheriting your grandfather's farm, you finally get to move back to Stardew Valley. Little do you know a certain doctor has patiently been waiting for your return.
a/n: the start of a harvey fic i posted on ao3, thought i would share!
ch. 2
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chapter one: i bet you think about me
Harvey hummed lightly to himself as he walked through Pierre's store, carefully eyeing the ingredients of each snack he put in his basket. Although he hated to admit it, he was finally beginning to feel his age; the walks that used to be so simple to him were starting to drag, and he found he needed a minimum of eight hours of sleep each night to wake up energized. He sighed lightly, longing for his college days when he easily walked across campus and would sometimes stay up all night studying for a final.
Still, as more and more time went on, his health was his top priority. His eyes lit up as he saw his favorite granola bars were back in stock.
"Harvey! I haven't seen you in a minute." Harvey turned to greet Caroline with a small smile. "You must be busy. With spring coming along, I'm sure all the kids will be heading over to your clinic with runny noses." She wasn't wrong. Whenever the weather got a bit warmer after the winter, Harvey was always greeted by the town's kids and teens, all reluctantly sent by their parents for a check-up. Most of the time, he simply sent them home with allergy medication.
"Of course, my favorite time of the year," he joked, shaking his head. "How have you been, Caroline? Have those vitamins I recommended you been doing you well?" He picked up a box of cereal from the shelf, pushing his glasses up and examining its label.
She shook her head in disbelief. "I couldn't believe it — I never knew those things could affect me so much! I've been feeling much more awake and energized thanks to you."
Harvey let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Ah, well, it's what I'm here for, isn't it?" He traded the cereal he had in hand with another one on the shelf, in awe at the amount of sugar in all of them. "You hear about anything new going on? I'm afraid I haven't been to the saloon in over a week now, so I haven't been very filled in."
Caroline pursed her lips as she thought. "Nothing too crazy going on in the Valley," she said after a moment. "Pierre's been preparing for the spring, Abigail's been practicing a ton with Sam and Seb, just the usual." Harvey nodded, humming in triumph as he finally found a box of cereal to his liking.
"Oh, and remember that girl who used to come by all the time? I heard her grandfather passed away, poor thing. He was a great man." What? Harvey froze, smile dropping. "Now that I think about it, weren't the two of you good friends? She's taking over his farm this spring, you know."
Thud.
The box landed between the two as he remained silent, his face beginning to burn.
"Harvey? Everything alright?"
"Sh-she is?" Harvey stuttered. When he realized how concerned Caroline looked, he cleared his throat, hastily grabbing the cereal off the floor and throwing it into his basket. "That's wonderful! I mean, not wonderful about her grandfather, but—" He shook his head. "I actually have something to tend to at the clinic, so I'll go check out now!"
Pierre gave his wife a quizzical look as Harvey rushedly handed his items to him, ears turning a shade of bright red. Caroline shrugged, clueless as to what she had said to make the doctor so flustered. The two watched half-amused as he left the store with a quick "thank you," keeping his gaze on the floor.
"He's always been a bit shy," Caroline reasoned. Pierre nodded, the couple returning to their tasks.
How? How was this happening? Harvey's thoughts raced as he made his way into his apartment, practically slamming the door shut as he sunk to the floor. Memories came rushing back to him as your name rang through his head, realizing it had been too long since the two of you had spoken. No wonder he didn't hear about your decision beforehand. Guilt began to eat at him as he thought of everything he had missed in your life, taking off his glasses to rub his face in stress. Would you even want to speak with him anymore?
Finally, after nearly half an hour of contemplation, Harvey scrambled up the courage to pick up his phone and give you a call. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as the dial tone rang, half of him hoping you wouldn't pick up. At least then he could avoid the situation a little longer, right?
"Hello? Harvey?"
Crap.
-
"Hello? Are you there?" you repeated, raising a brow. "Harvey, did you butt dial me?"
"No, no! I'm here," your friend replied, a slight panic in his voice. "Uh, well . . . how have you been?"
You let out a huff of laughter. "Some things never change, do they, Harvs?" His old nickname slipped off your tongue with ease. You remember when you were kids together, running around playing tag — back then, you would chase him and call him Harvsy. "You're still just as charming as ever," you tease.
There's a beat of silence before he replies with an awkward laugh. "You know me better than anyone." He pauses. "So, I heard you're moving to Stardew Valley?"
"Ah, right, I am! Sorry, I never got the chance to tell you," you sighed. "It's been a while since we last talked, huh?"
"I suppose it has," he agreed, and you note the twinge of sadness in his tone.
It's not like you wanted to stop talking to him, not at all, but with all the complications going on in your life, it was hard to keep in touch with your old friend. You always saw Harvey as a kid whenever you visited your grandfather's farm, as his grandparents also lived there. The two of you grew even closer throughout your pre-teen and teen years, always sharing music and studying together. You even saw him from time to time during college — although he went to a bigger, more prestigious medical university, you were both in Zuzu City and got food with each other from time to time. After you graduated and ended up working at Joja Cola HQ, though, you began to see Harvey less and less. Both of you tried to call regularly, you really did, but when your life began to look too black and white, you gave up on nearly all your social connections, focusing entirely on your work and making it through each day. It didn't help that he was busy running his clinic, too.
Things didn't get much better when your grandfather died. He passed away towards the end of your college years, leaving you an envelope you promised not to open until you felt, "crushed by the burden of modern life." You had actually spoken to Harvey over the phone about your grandpa's words, though both of you were equally confused at what he meant.
That is, until working for Joja became too unbearable.
Only then did you open the letter, more miserable than you had been in your life. Despite it all, your grandfather had left you the greatest gift he could have in order to reignite your spirit: his farm.
"Well," you started, snapping out of your short daze, "I'll be in town in three days, so why don't we catch up then?"
More silence.
Was he always this quiet? Or have you two just grown apart?
"Harvey," you sang, "you still there?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Yes, of course, just give me a call when you're on your way, I can, uh, help you move in. If you need help, that is!" You laughed lightly; he was still the same dork you knew in the past.
"I would love some help, if you can spare the time," you said, smiling. "I'll see you soon, then?"
"Yes, I'll see you soon." You hung up, a smile lingering on your face.
I wonder if he has a girlfriend, you wondered. He had never been the most outgoing, but surely he had to have met someone. You shrugged to yourself, continuing to pack some of your belongings into boxes.
Suddenly, going back to the Valley had become all the more exciting.
-
Harvey sank into his chair at the saloon, hand covering half his face as he began to question his life choices.
"Oh, come now, my friend," Elliott chided, taking a swig of his drink. "Where is your courage, your hope? You should be ecstatic that your love is returning to the town!"
Shane grunted. "Yeah, right," he grumbled. "Odds are, she's already moved on."
Elliott frowned at him, but ignored him nonetheless. "Tell us what is on your mind, Harvey."
Harvey sighed. He had asked to sit between the two at the bar in hopes of gaining some clarity, but all he seemed to have achieved was embarrassment. While Elliott was overly enthusiastic about his "long lost love's return," Shane couldn't care less about the subject, bluntly stating his pessimistic thoughts. He felt as if there was an angel and a devil, literally, on either of his shoulders — Elliott was to his left, while Shane was to his right.
"Shane may be right," Harvey admitted, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes. "What's the point of thinking about all this if she's already taken?" With that thought, he finished the remainder of his drink, trying to ignore the stinging in his chest.
The two men beside him were the only ones who knew about his feelings for you. Harvey confided in them from time to time, as they were closest to his age and they had known each other for quite some time. Although their personalities often clashed and seemed impossibly different, it was nice to talk to them. At least he and Elliott enjoyed it, anyway — Shane never outwardly showed his appreciation for them, except for the occasional half-smile at their jokes that they missed the majority of the time.
Elliott shook his head. "You mustn't give up before the battle has even begun," he stated, leaning closer to look Harvey in the eyes. "How long has it been since you first felt this way toward her?"
". . . Ah, you see," Harvey began quietly, his blush adding to the warmth of the alcohol he had drunk, "I've actually liked her for quite some time."
His friend hummed. "Since college, then?"
"A bit longer . . ."
"Oh, high school sweethearts? How romantic!" Shane rolled his eyes.
The doctor cleared his throat. "Actually, since we were about, let's see . . . ten? A little younger?"
Shane choked on his drink as Elliott's mouth fell open.
"Fucking hell," Shane swore, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "That's like, what, two decades?"
Harvey wished he could cover his face with a blanket and disappear. "It started off as a crush, of course, we were kids," he feebly defended. "Then it just never really faded." He jumped when he felt Elliott strongly grab his shoulder, a new fire lighting his eyes.
"This, my friend, is fate," he claimed confidently. "I am sure now that you two were meant to be."
"Elliott, please—"
"Not another word!" He rose from his seat, dropping coins on the table and giving Gus a thumbs up. "Gus, I'd like to pay these gentlemen's tabs tonight." The bartender grinned, returning the gesture. "Now, Harvey, I advise you go home and rest for your lover's arrival—"
"Not so loud!" Harvey begged, frantically checking if anyone had heard.
"—as you must look your utmost best for her," Elliott finished.
Shane groaned. "Listen, thanks for paying for the drinks, pal, but I think we're done here. You're killin' him." With a quick nod to Harvey and a scowl at Elliott, Shane shrugged his jacket on and made his way out.
"I expect to hear all about your reunion, Dr. Harvey," Elliott said, putting on his own coat and placing a hand on his shoulder once again. "Best of luck! Let fate guide you." A few people glanced over at his theatrics, and Harvey truly questioned why he had chosen to confide in him in the first place.
As his friend left, Gus wandered over to him, brow raised. "What was that all about?" he asked.
Harvey shook his head. "It's a long story," he sighed, pushing his glass toward the bartender. He ignored the fact that he had gotten five refills above his usual limit; this was a dire situation.
Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was your smile.
Miss me, Harvs?
He sighed.
"Another glass, please."
#stardew valley#stardew valley x reader#sdv#sdv x reader#stardew valley x farmer#sdv x farmer#sdv harvey#harvey x farmer#harvey x reader#sdv harvey x farmer#sdv harvey x reader#sdv shane#sdv elliott#fanfiction#fanfic#writers on tumblr#ao3 fanfic
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04 ━━━ YOU'RE LOSING ME
warnings: angst, swearing, overworking, strained marriage, divorce
word count: 5.6k
synopsis: your ex-wife receives an invite to your wedding, but will she let you say "i do" for a second time?
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after 5 years of being on the backburner, y/n knew she had enough of the marriage.
you say, "i don't understand," and i say, "i know you don't"
we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't
the backroom that overlooked the skyline of the city was both her favorite and soyeon's favorite part of their home. soyeon especially loved it because of the lighting, especially during the sunset. when they bought the home, they turned it into a second living room. during the early days of their marriage, the two spent hours together watching movies or just simply having a glass of wine or two.
nowadays, y/n used it as the perfect place to cry.
remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light
now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time
the curtains were always shut closed, never letting the light shine into the home. y/n didn’t want to do anything when she sat in that room. she didn’t know how long she spent there on a daily basis, but it was easily over an hour or two. the former idol would just sit in the darkness, listening to the hum of the air conditioning unit while she either sobbed or sat in silence.
a marriage consisted of two people, so why did she feel so alone in her own?
she loved soyeon, and was well aware of the responsibilities that lingered over her head. however, her spouse was well into her career as a ceo now. the company was doing phenomenal, and soyeon had even hired an even more phenomenal staff team.
there was no reason for soyeon to not be home anymore.
do i throw out everything we built or keep it?
i'm getting tired even for a phoenix
y/n didn’t understand how her wife could not be bothered with being away from home for so long. the former idol even thought about pretending to go for an interview at soyeon’s company just so she could see her wife.
of course, there were times where the younger girl went and showed up to surprise her wife with lunch or dinner. however, the ceo was always in a meeting or could only spare a few short minutes together while she was on a phone call.
in the beginning, it felt manageable. it felt tolerable. now, it was not any of those.
always risin' from the ashes
mendin' all her gashes
you might just have dealt the final blow
“you should see someone, maybe talk to a therapist about it?” yuqi said gently as she sipped her coffee across from the other girl. y/n had met up with her former groupmate for a quick coffee to get some fresh air and try and enjoy her day for once.
the married woman gently traced the top of her cup, staring at her reflection in the dark colored drink. “i don’t think it would help change my mind.” y/n said as she poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue.
yuqi's expression softened with concern. “y/n, it's not just about changing your mind. it's about finding clarity and peace for yourself. you deserve that at least.”
she sighed, feeling the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. “i know, but sometimes it feels like no matter what i do, nothing will change.”the café was bustling with life around them, but the married woman felt detached from the vibrant energy.
she had been running on empty for so long, and the thought of seeking professional help seemed both daunting and futile.
“give it a try, at least,” yuqi urged gently. “you've been carrying this alone for too long.” y/n nodded slowly, dismissing what she already knew to be true.
“i'll think about it.”
stop, you're losing me
“have you thought about marriage counseling?” the therapist across from her asked, shuffling through a pile of loose papers. she was an older woman, and from the ring on her finger, also married. y/n wondered if their marriage was anything like hers.
y/n fought the urge to roll her eyes at the question, but simply cleared her throat before answering.
“my wife won’t even come home for dinner, much less a counseling session.”
stop, you're losing me
thankfully, the therapist’s timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “i’ll see you next week,” she said as she stood and smiled. “try and practice what we suggested. meditation could help a lot.”
y/n drove home that afternoon feeling more heavy than she had going into the session. all her therapist suggested was to basically beg soyeon to come home or just try and ignore it, but of course in a “healthy” way.
“bullshit.” she muttered under her breath as she stopped at a red light. glancing at her surroundings, she noticed a building straight ahead of her. it was a divorce lawyers office.
divorce. the word used to terrify her. now, not so much.
stop, you're losing me
y/n gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white as she stared at the sign for the divorce lawyer’s office. the idea of divorce had once seemed impossible, an admission of failure. it meant that she would be alone, permanently.
however, it couldn’t feel too different from the way she felt right now.
the red light turned green, and instead of driving past, she made a spontaneous decision and turned into the parking lot. she sat in the car for a few moments, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. this was it. the first step toward reclaiming her life.
with a final resolute breath, she got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. the receptionist greeted her warmly, and without thinking, y/n blurted out the first words that came to her mind.
“i think i need to get a divorce.”
i can't find a pulse
my heart won't start anymore for you
within minutes, she was seated in an office, speaking with a lawyer who listened intently to her story. “divorce is never easy,” the man said gently. “but it sounds like you’ve been dealing with this for a long time. we can help you navigate this process and find a resolution that works for you.”
she scheduled a follow-up appointment to discuss the next steps and left the office with a packet of information, feeling a strange sense of serenity. as she drove home, the weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter.
she was no longer waiting for soyeon to change.
'cause you're losing me
the next morning, y/n stayed in bed just a bit longer. soyeon’s faint scent still lingered on the sheets, and she felt her heart ache with every inhale.
she didn’t know when she started crying. maybe it was when she fell asleep. maybe it was when she woke up.
y/n missed her wife. she missed feeling loved. she missed being a priority. weren’t all marriages supposed to be a priority? why wasn’t hers?
the former idol stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind swirling with memories of better times. she remembered their wedding day, the laughter, the promises she and soyeon made to each other.
how did their marriage end up like this?
as the morning light filtered through the curtains, y/n knew she couldn't stay in bed forever. she needed to get up, to face the reality of her decision. slowly, she pulled herself out of bed, her movements sluggish and heavy. the woman glared at the framed photo of their wedding day as she made her way to the kitchen where she prepared a cup of coffee. the usual routine brought her a small measure of comfort.
sitting at the kitchen table, she opened the packet of information from the lawyer's office. the paperwork seemed daunting, but she reminded herself that this was a necessary step. each form she filled out, each line she signed, was a step toward freedom from this feeling.
every mornin', i glared at you with storms in my eyes
how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?
the day dragged on, each minute feeling like an hour. y/n tried to distract herself by cleaning the house, re-organizing closets, and doing anything to keep her mind occupied.
but no matter what she did, thoughts of soyeon lingered, and the emptiness in her chest refused to go away.
in the afternoon, she decided to take a walk. she thought the fresh air might help clear her mind. she put on her shoes and stepped outside, feeling the air on her face. the neighborhood was ambient, but quiet, and as she walked, she let her thoughts drift.
she remembered the early days of their relationship, the late-night talks, the shared dreams. they had been so in sync, so in love. when did things start to go wrong? when had they started to drift apart?
y/n walked to a nearby park and sat on a bench, watching children play and couples walk by hand in hand. she felt a pang of envy, wishing she could go back to those simpler times. but she knew that wasn't possible. she had waited around long enough.
the only way forward was to accept the reality of her situation and move on.
i sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick
my face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick
soyeon returned home early that night. y/n sat in front of the dark tv, watching some american sitcom from the 70’s. there were no more tears left. she had nothing left to give soyeon, or their marriage.
“hi honey,” the ceo said as she set her things down by the shelf near the front door. “did you eat dinner already?” y/n was surprised the woman wasn’t on a phone call or busy rushing to grab her plate and run back to her office.
“i finally got to go home early today, but there’s a monthly evaluation tomorrow that i’ll need to attend.”
soyeon said as she walked over to the couch, a bit confused with her wife’s silence. y/n didn't immediately respond, her eyes fixed on the tv but not really watching it. she felt soyeon's presence beside her, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.
“i didn't eat dinner,” y/n finally said, her voice void of emotion. she turned to face soyeon, seeing the confusion and concern in her eyes. all soyeon could see was someone that looked like the shell of her wife.
“we need to talk.”
soyeon's expression shifted, a flicker of worry crossing her features. "what is it, baby? are you feeling alright?” the older woman stuck her hand out to touch y/n’s forehead, but her wife simply moved her hand down.
“i’m fine,” taking a deep breath, y/n steadied herself. “we need to talk about us.”
soyeon's eyes widened, and she sat down heavily on the couch. whispers of her fears started to speak in her mind, and she felt a pit in her stomach forming at just the thought of where this conversation was headed.
“what are you saying?”
and the air is thick with loss and indecision
i know my pain is such an imposition
the former idol swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. “i’m saying that i can’t keep going like this. we’ve been drifting apart for a long time, and it’s not getting any better. i feel invisible.”
the ceo’s face paled. she opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. she simply looked at y/n, her eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and hurt. “invisible? how can you say that? i’ve been working so hard for us, for our future.”
y/n shook her head slowly, feeling a wave of sadness wash over her. “but what about our present? what about the time we’re supposed to be spending together now? you’re never here, and when you are, it’s like you’re not really with me.”
tears welled up in soyeon’s eyes. “but i thought you understood. i thought you supported me. this job, it’s important. for both of us.” she couldn’t imagine her wife thinking she was out doing nothing. everything soyeon did was for y/n.
the other woman’s voice softened, but her resolve remained firm. “i do support you. i’m proud of everything you’ve accomplished. but somewhere along the way, we lost each other. and i don’t know how to find our way back.”
now, you're runnin' down the hallway
and you know what they all say
“then let’s try and find our way back,” soyeon reached over and placed her hand on her wife’s thigh. “i can switch schedules and make more time to be home. it’s just been so busy with the new group debuting soon, and–”
“soyeon.”
y/n gently placed her hand over soyeon’s, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. “we’ve been saying we’ll find time for us for years now. every time there’s a new project, a new deadline, and every time i’m left waiting. i can’t keep waiting.”
the ceo’s grip on y/n’s thigh tightened slightly, a desperate plea in her eyes. “baby, please. just give me one more chance. i’ll make it right, i promise. i’ll prioritize us. anything you want to do, we can do it. just name it.”
y/n simply shook her head and motioned to the stack of papers on the coffee table. soyeon’s heart dropped when she made out the faint words at the top. the silence in the room was deafening.
you don't know what you got until it's gone
“no, i can’t lose you.” soyeon fell to her knees as she grabbed both of y/n’s hands, her own trembling. “please, y/n, don’t do this. we can still fix it. i can still fix it.”
y/n's eyes welled up with tears as she looked down at her wife. she wished she had it in her to believe her, but she didn’t.
“i’m not happy anymore, soyeon.”
soyeon’s tears fell freely now, her face a mask of anguish. “but i love you. i don’t know how to do this without you.”
stop, you're losing me
y/n knelt down beside her, taking her hands in hers. “i love you too. but love isn’t enough when we’re both hurting. this isn’t what love is supposed to be.”
something in her wife’s expression was a mix of desperation and frustration seeping through her tears. “so you’re just going to walk away? just like that? after everything we’ve been through?”
the former idol's jaw clenched, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. y/n knew soyeon wouldn’t take this lightly. “i’ve been trying to make this work for years. i’ve been patient, i’ve been understanding, but nothing changes. you’re always too busy, always putting everything else before us, before me.”
“that's not fair!” soyeon snapped, standing up abruptly. “you know how hard this has been for me, too? you knew i had responsibilities.”
stop, you're losing me
“responsibilities?” y/n snapped, rising to her feet. “what about your responsibility to our marriage? to me? i’ve felt like a ghost in this goddamn house, soyeon.”
“of course i noticed!” soyeon yelled, her voice breaking. “do you think this is easy for me? i’ve done everything for you, for us! do you think it was easy for me to stay away? i had no choice.”
y/n’s eyes flashed with anger. “don’t you dare turn this around on me. i’ve been supportive, i’ve been there for you, i have been the only participant in this marriage for the past 5 years.”
soyeon's face flushed with guilt. she was well aware of her shortcomings in her matrimony, but to be confronted with them like this? it hurt, and she didn’t like it.
“you think i don’t know that? you think i wanted things to be like this? it’s my job to keep the company running well. but i work my ass off for us, for our future!” she
the younger woman let out a bitter laugh. “our future? what future, soyeon? the one where i keep waiting for you to come home, where i’m always second to your job?”
stop, you're losing me
the shorter woman’s emotions boiled over, her voice trembling with anger. “you're being selfish, y/n! you don't understand the pressure i'm under, the sacrifices i've had to make.”
“you can add our marriage to that list of sacrifices,” y/n's hissed, her own anger flaring. “and what of the sacrifices i've made? do you think it's easy for me to sit at home, alone, while you're out there, building your empire?”
“i never asked you to sacrifice anything”" soyeon shot back, her voice rising. “you chose to stay at home, to support me from the sidelines. don't act like it's my fault. you chose this.”
i can't find a pulse
my heart won't start anymore
for you
“you're right, i did choose to support you. but i didn't choose to be neglected, or to feel like i'm nothing more than an afterthought in your life.” y/n whispered, frustrated tears now falling from her own eyes.
the shorter girl ran a hand through her hair as she started pacing. “i've never neglected you, y/n! i've always put us first, even if you don't see it.”
y/n scoffed, her voice dripping with bitterness. “putting us first? is that what you call it? because from where i'm standing, it looks like you're putting everything else first—your job, your career, your ambitions.”
soyeon whipped around, jaw clenched and patience wearing thin. “i'm doing what i have to do to provide for us, but all you seem to care about is what i'm not doing for you.”
'cause you're losing me
'cause you're losing me
y/n sat back down on the couch, holding her head in her hands. there was no way she could help her wife see her point of view. she didn’t know what else to say. it was never going to work, they were never going to work anymore.
“y/n,” soyeon whispered as she picked up the divorce papers. “why is this already filled out?”
the mentioned woman looked up, eyes burning with frustration and hurt. “because i’m done, soyeon.”
soyeon's grip tightened on the divorce papers, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation. “and what about me, y/n? what about my feelings? you act like i don't care, like i don't try, but i do! i do everything i can to make this work, and it's never enough!”
stop (stop) 'cause you're losing me
y/n's jaw clenched as she fought to hold back her tears. “for the millionth time, it's not about the sacrifices, soyeon. it's about the fact that i'm always second best to your job.”
the ceo’s eyes flashed with confusion and frustration. “but i have to work, y/n! i have responsibilities, i have people depending on me. i can't just drop everything all the time because you're feeling neglected!”
“well maybe if you actually made an effort to be here once in a while, i wouldn't feel neglected!" y/n shot back, her voice rising with each word. “maybe if you put half as much effort into our marriage as you do into your career, we wouldn't be in this mess!”
the room fell silent, the weight of their words hanging heavy in the air. soyeon's hands shook as she looked down at the divorce papers, her heart torn between her love for y/n and her commitment to her career.
she knew that something had to change, but she didn't know if she was ready to let go of everything she had worked so hard for. her company was a growing superpower in the entertainment industry. but y/n was the love of her life.
my heart won't start anymore ('cause you're losing me)
my heart won't start anymore ('cause you're losing me)
“i have a follow-up appointment with the divorce lawyers on monday.” y/n whispered, reaching for a nearby tissue from the coffee table. “they’ll let us know what the next steps will be.”
“no.” soyeon said as she shook her head. “i thought both parties had to agree to a divorce. i don’t agree.”
y/n's heart sank at soyeon's words, a mix of frustration and disbelief washing over her. “you don't agree?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “you’ve seen me suffering for the past 5 years, and you have the nerve to say you don’t agree?”
how long could we be a sad song
'til we were too far gone to bring back to life?
soyeon's expression softened, her eyes pleading for understanding. "y/n, i know i've made mistakes, but i still believe we can work through this. we can't just throw away everything we've built together."
“tell me,” y/n's frustration bubbled over, her voice tinged with bitterness. "what have we built, soyeon?” the older girl fell silent at her wife’s words, simply racking her brain to try and find the right words to say.
i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy
and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier
the ceo’s silence only added fuel to y/n’s emotional fire. “in the five years that we have been married, what have we built together? you’ve built an empire, all for yourself. and i have built myself a prison in this marriage.”
“i’ve cooked you dinners that you don't eat, i’ve dealt with missed anniversaries and forgotten dates. i feel more like a maid for you than i do a wife.” y/n continued, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.
soyeon looked like her heart had just been pierced a million times. she had nothing to defend herself with. she knew her wife was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“and all i ever got was nothing. crumbs of your love and time at the most. but a marriage cannot survive off of crumbs.” y/n added, watching as soyeon went back to pacing.
“and let’s not act like this isn’t the first fight we’ve gotten into about this,” she added while glancing at the time on the clock. “there was the time you deliberately ignored me.”
soyeon's pacing slowed as she listened to y/n's words, her chest tightening with each painful truth laid bare. she knew she had failed her wife in more ways than one, and the weight of her guilt threatened to consume her.
but as y/n spoke of their past fights, soyeon's mind flashed back to one particular memory—an argument that had shaken the very foundation of their marriage.
"i remember," soyeon whispered, her voice heavy with regret. "i remember that fight."
fighting in only your army
frontlines, don't you ignore me
“soyeon!” y/n hissed as she slammed her palms down on the ceo’s desk to force her to look at her. “you can’t just ignore me for 3 days because you don’t like the conversation.”
the air crackled with tension as y/n's words hung heavy in the room, each syllable laden with hurt and frustration. she watched as soyeon's expression hardened, her features tightening with annoyance at being interrupted.
but y/n refused to back down. she needed to make her understand, to bridge the growing chasm between them before it widened beyond repair.
"please, soyeon," y/n implored, her voice softening slightly as she met her wife's gaze. "i know you're busy, but we need to talk about this. i can't keep feeling like i'm invisible to you."
soyeon's jaw tensed, her frustration evident in the way she clenched her fists at her sides. “i didnt want to miss our date," she finally admitted, her voice tinged with defensiveness. “but you know how important this meeting is for the company. i couldn't just cancel it.”
y/n's heart sank at the admission, the sting of disappointment cutting deep. she knew soyeon's dedication to her work was unwavering, but it didn't make the hurt any less painful. “i understand, i do,” y/n replied, her voice trembling with emotion. “but that doesn't change how i feel. i need you to be there for me, too.”
soyeon's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of remorse crossing her features. “i'm sorry, y/n,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “i need to go now, i have a meeting in 5.”
i'm the best thing at this party
(you're losing me)
“then there was the christmas party.”
soyeon’s annual company party was full of glitz and glamor, with the elite of the entertainment industry gracing the event with their presence. it was a night that soyeon looked forward to every year, an opportunity to network and showcase her company's ever growing success.
but for y/n, it was a different story. she had always felt like an outsider at these events, despite being a former idol herself. she was surrounded by unfamiliar faces and forced to navigate the social intricacies of the new entertainment world on her own.
and this year was no different.
as the party buzzed with laughter and music, y/n found herself standing alone in a sea of faces, watching as soyeon worked the room with effortless charm. she had hoped that this year would be different, that soyeon would make an effort to include her in the festivities. but as the night wore on, it became clear that she was once again on the sidelines, forgotten and ignored.
when her ceo wife finally approached her, it was only to offer a brief apology before disappearing into the crowd once more. and as y/n watched her mingle with the guests, a sense of loneliness washed over her, a reminder of the gaping divide between them.
“you promised me that we would do this together,” y/n continued, her voice tinged with bitterness as she recalled the events of that fateful night. “but instead, you left me stranded, alone in a room full of strangers. again.”
soyeon's expression softened at the accusation, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. “i didn't mean to leave you behind,” she insisted, her voice laced with regret. “i just had to make sure i made a good impression with the investors, they’re the best thing to happen to the company.”
‘but i’m supposed to be the best thing to happen to you’ was what y/n wanted to argue with. however, for the sake of the night, she bit her tongue.
and i wouldn't marry me either
a pathological people pleaser
“you’re serving me with divorce papers and telling me everything is my fault?” the ceo scoffed, disbelief and hurt in her eyes. “you’re putting all the blame on me?”
y/n rose to her feet quickly. “yes because i’m not the one who is putting us second.”
silence passed for a few beats, and y/n could see anger swirling in her wife’s irises. “you know what?” soyeon hissed before slamming the papers onto the coffee table.
“i should’ve never married you.”
who only wanted you to see her
and i'm fadin', thinkin'
but as the words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between them, suffocating the room with its weight. y/n's heart sank at soyeon's admission, the pain of rejection cutting deep into her soul. if there wasn’t a final straw before, this surely was it.
“you don't mean that,” y/n whispered, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to hold back her tears. “you can't mean that.”
but soyeon remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor as she wrestled with her own emotions. and in that moment, y/n felt the walls closing in around her, trapping her in a suffocating embrace of heartache and despair.
“i should've never married you,” soyeon repeated, her voice hollow and empty as she spoke the words aloud again for a second time. and as the reality of their crumbling marriage washed over them, y/n couldn't help but wonder if they had ever stood a chance at happiness in the first place.
"do something, babe, say something" (say something)
“then there truly is no reason for us to be married any longer.” y/n finally said with a shaky breath, tears falling from her eyes freely. deep down, part of her screamed at her wife. she wanted soyeon to fall to her knees and try and fix it, to leave the company for her and the sake of their marriage.
"lose something, babe, risk something" (you're losing me)
soyeon wiped her own eyes and turned her back to the younger woman. y/n watched her face forward again after a few moments, emotions at an all time high.
with trembling hands of anger and hurt, the ceo reached for the divorce papers on the coffee table, her heart heavy with sorrow. she picked up the pen and signed her name on the dotted line, officially agreeing to a mutual separation.
however, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was signing away not just their marriage, but a piece of her own soul.
"choose something, babe, i got nothing (got nothing) to believe, unless you're choosin' me"
“i’ll sleep in the guest room. just leave by monday night.” soyeon said bitterly, leaving her pen on the table while y/n sat with her head in her hands once more. to see her wife’s name on that paper was what she did want, but not like this.
this hurt more than asking for the divorce in the first place.
soyeon left the room without a second glance, leaving behind an atmosphere heavy with unspoken regrets and shattered hearts. the younger girl sat in silence, the weight of their failed marriage pressing down on her shoulders like a suffocating blanket.
as the sound of soyeon's footsteps faded into the distance, y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of profound loss wash over her.
you're losing me
she had thought that by taking this step, she would find some measure of closure, some semblance of peace. but now, all she felt was emptiness.
with a heavy heart, y/n rose from her seat and made her way to the guest room, the weight of the moment hanging heavily in the air. she knew that their marriage was over, that there was no going back now.
but as she settled into bed, surrounded by the echoes of their broken promises, she couldn't help but wonder what might have been. what their life would've looked like if her soon to be ex-wife had put the relationship before her career.
stop (stop, stop), you're losing me
what y/n didn’t know was that soyeon regretted signing that paper immediately after she did it.
the ceo tossed and turned in her own bed, haunted by the memory of signing her name on those divorce papers. the weight of her decision bore down on her, suffocating her with remorse and regret.
as she lay there in the darkness, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had made a terrible mistake. the realization hit her like a tidal wave, flooding her with a sense of panic and desperation. she had been so consumed by her career, so blinded by her ambitions, that she had failed to see what truly mattered.
and now, faced with the prospect of losing the love of her life, she felt a profound sense of loss wash over her.
stop (stop, stop), you're losing me
but as the hours passed and the night wore on, soyeon found herself grappling with a difficult truth. no matter how much she regretted her decision, no matter how desperately she wished she could turn back time, she knew that some mistakes were irreversible.
with a heavy heart and tears in her eyes, soyeon whispered a silent prayer into the darkness. she didn’t care who was listening, or if no deity was listening at all.
“please,” she heaved out. “let me fix this.”
she knew that despite her deepest desires, some wounds could never fully heal. and as the first light of dawn painted the sky, she realized that her chance to salvage their marriage had slipped through her fingers.
her denial crumbled the moment she saw y/n had left her wedding ring on the counter.
i can't find a pulse
with a heavy heart, soyeon accepted the painful truth: she had lost y/n, perhaps forever. and though the regret weighed heavily upon her, she knew that she had to accept the consequences of her actions.
y/n had only lost a marriage that wasn’t benefiting her. it was the best thing for her at the time. soyeon had lost the love of her life. it was the worst thing she could have ever experienced.
in the end, both women were left grappling with the consequences of their choices. y/n had found freedom, while soyeon remained trapped in the prison of her own making.
and as they each navigated their separate paths, they couldn't help but wonder if they would ever find their way back to one another.
my heart won't start anymore
a/n: pretend i posted this months ago...
#jeon soyeon#song yuqi#gidle series#gidle#soyeon x reader#gidle x reader#original series#angst#kpop#wlw#gxg#i do#perfectsunlight
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Season 2, Episode 4 - Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things
Series Masterlist
Deans POV (surprise!<3)
"Come on, guys. I'm begging you. This is stupid" I plead with Sam and Y/N as I drive down the road with Y/N lounging in the back. "Why?" Sam asks. "Going to visit Mom and Mrs. L/N's graves? They don't even have any graves. There was no body left after the fires" I point out. "They have headstones" Y/N pipes up from the back.
"Yeah, put up there by our uncle and your aunt. People we've never even met. So you guys wanna go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a bunch of strangers? Come on." I scoff. "Dean. "That's not the point" Sam exaggerates. "Well, then, enlighten me" I roll my eyes. "It's not about a body or a casket. It's about their memories, okay?" Y/N tries to reason with me.
"Yeah, and after Dad and F/N, it just feels like the right thing to do" Sam adds. "It's irrational, is what it is" I grumble. "Look, man. No one asked you to come" Sam retorts. I just roll my eyes, "Why don't we swing by the Roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately? We should be hunting that son of a bitch down" I suggest to them.
"That's a good idea. You should. Just drop me and Sam off at Bobby's. We'll take Quinn and we'll meet you there tomorrow" Y/N shrugs nonchalantly. I give her a knowing look through the rearview mirror to see a little smug smile on her face. "Right" I respond ironically. "I'd be stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you two show up. No, thanks" I huff.
A victorious grin takes over her face, "It's settled then, " Sam chimes in. Mouthing a 'Thank You' to Y/N, which he probably thought I didn't notice.
________________________________
Now in-front of Mom's headstone, Sam begins to dig into the grass with a knife while clutching one of Dad's old marine dog tags. I sighed and walked over to Y/N who was sat crisscrossed in-front her moms headstone a couple plots down from Mom's, her back turnt to me. Her head was tilted down towards her feet, her voice was shaky as she spoke,
"Since Dad....I wonder sometimes if he'd be happy to know I'm becoming more like you everyday. I'm trying to make sense of it all, figure out how to control it without scaring the boys. I'm terrified that they'll look at me as some freak, sure Sam might get it a bit but...." She tears up, taking a deep breath. "It's really fucking hard, mom" She sniffles, a pained chuckle escaping her throat.
My heart panged painfully hearing how broken she sounded. She's worried about us more than herself. Worried we'd see look at her differently and see her as some freak. This hurt me inside out that she could possibly think I would love her any less....I mean we. Me and Sam. Yeah. That's what I meant.
I decided to take a seat next to her, she turned her head away and quickly wiped away her tears before turning back to me. "Hey" She croaked, feigning a smile. "Hey" I respond softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She gently laid her head on my shoulder, sniffling back her tears. Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she moves her head to get a more comfortable spot, her eyes not leaving the headstone.
My heart pace quickened at this, her hair nuzzling lightly on my nose when I turned my head. I smiled a bit into the gesture, the scent of tobacco mixed with coconut from her shampoo filled my nose. The aroma alone sent a blush creeping up the back of my neck. My breath hitched in my throat, sneakily whiffing her hair, whilst trying not to make it obvious. It calmed me down, as much as I didn't want to come here.
I'm glad she was here with me...and Sam. My chin lounged on the crown of her head.
God she's so heavenly.
"Are you sniffing my hair?" Her amused tone broke me out of my trance, my eyes snapping open, wide in shock. "Uh...no...." I sheepishly responded, an embarrassed smile taking over my face. Y/N raised her head to look me in my eyes, an amused look in her eyes. "Did it smell nice?" She chuckles, a mischievous grin danced on her plump lips as she pumped her eyebrows smugly. Tears still glistening in her eyes.
"Don't be smooth, that's my thing" I chuckled. She threw her head back laughing lightly, a genuine smile on her face. Something I hadn't seen in sometime, instantaneously, it made a grin break out on my face. The sight of her smiling, the crinkle of her cute nose, the creases at the corner of her eyes, made my heart swell.
God I'm whipped.
Get your head in the game, Dean!
My eyes scanned the cemetery and landed on an out-of-ordinary tree. It was the only tree in the area that was dying, leaves brown and falling. Y/N asked me when she felt my body stiffen, "What's wrong?" She asks me concerned, her eyes followed the direction mines were aimed at. I then got up from the ground and helped her to her feet.
We both dusted ourselves off and began to walk towards the tree. We both eyes the tree as Y/N leaned over and knocked the hallow bark of the tree with her knuckles, "Uh...Dean..." Y/N says to me nervously, pointing to the ground. "Wha-?" I go to ask but my eyes widen when I see what she's pointing at. Around us in a perfect circle, the grass was dead. Brown like the leaves on the tree, while the rest of the cemetery was green as usual.
"What the fuck" I mutter to myself, my eyes flicked to a presumedly new headstone by the state of it. Next to it was dying flowers, probably a couple days old. Y/N knelt down next to it to get a better look at the headstone. We shared a look at this, both freaked out.
"Thank you" I thank the groundskeeper of the cemetery after finding out about the headstone and who's grave it is. "Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college. Funeral was three days ago" I explain to Sam and Y/N as I walk over towards them. "And?" Sam asks halfheartedly. "And? You saw her grave. Everything dead around it in a perfect circle. You don't think that's a little weird?" Y/N points out the obvious.
I nod in agreement. "Maybe the groundskeeper went a little aggro with the pesticide" Sam suggests in a plain tone. I shake my head, "No, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it" I tell him. "Okay, so what are you guys thinking?" Sam asks. "I don't know" I sigh. "Unholy ground maybe?" Y/N suggests. "Un-?" Sam cocks his eyebrow at us.
"What?" Me and Y/N ask in unison. "If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground" I say defensively. "Remember the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?" I ask Sam. "Yeah" Sam responds. "Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the Angela girls spirit if it's powerful enough" I add. "I would've felt it though so..." Y/N says trailing off.
"Okay, maybe it's something else" I shrug. Sam rolls his eyes and walks off towards Baby. Me and y/n share a tired look at this. "Well don't get too excited, you might pull something" I scoff sarcastically at Sam. "It's just, stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?" Sam shakes his head, not convinced. "So?" Y/N counters, going over to the backseat on my side. His eyes flicker between the two of us.
"Are you sure this is about a hunt? Not about something else?" Sam says in a knowing tone. This dude just won't stop bringing up our dads death as a reason to pull shit out of me, I swear. I see Y/N roll her eyes at the corner of my eye before muttering to herself, "Oh dear god" She holds her head, probably thinking the same as me. "What else would it be about?" I press as I lean against Baby, clasping my hands on her roof.
Sam just shakes his head, his hands on his hips as he lets out an exasperated sigh, "You know, just forget it" He sighs, opening the passenger door. "You can believe what you want, Sam. But we dragged his ass out here. The least we can do is check this out" Y/N tries to reason with him, taking my side. "Yep, fine" Sam agrees, a blank look on his face as I give Y/N a grateful smile which she returns.
"Girls dad works in town. He's a professor at the school" I smirk at Sam, opening the drivers door and jumping in.
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We were all now at the community college, knocking on the dead girls fathers office door. An age-able man opened it, a distressed look coating his face. "Dr. Mason?" I asked. "Yes" The man confirmed. "I'm Y/N, this is Dean and Sam" Y/N introduced herself and then us sweetly, "We were friends of Angela's. We....we wanted to offer our condolences" Sam says in a sorrowful tone as me and y/n nod.
"Please, come in" Dr. Mason invites us in. We all walk in one by one before he closes the door. We began to play at his sympathies, asking him about his daughters death. He then pulled out a photo album of some recent pictures of his daughter. Both Sam and Y/N were sat besides him on a couch while I looked around the office, my gaze landed on a weird book on his table, with a gold symbol engraved into the cover.
I've never seen before that symbol before, and the title in what seemed like a dead language. So I decided to take a look at it. "She was beautiful" Y/N says gently. "Yes, she was" Dr. Mason croaks. "This is an unusual book" I say to them, before closing it shut and turning it to everyone. "Oh, it's Ancient Greek. I teach a course" Dr. Mason says. I nod before placing the book back onto his table.
"So, a car accident, that's....That's horrible." I say sympathetically, walking towards them. Dr. Mason looked down in despair, "Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh..." He trails off, his tone pained. "It's gotta be hard...losing someone like that" I say in an understanding tone. "Sometimes it's like they're still around...almost like you can still sense their presence" Y/N adds, looking down at her hands.
Sam's gazes shift over to us, both knowing she's talking from experience. "You ever feel anything like that?" She asks curiously. I shake my head at her not so subtle way of putting it. I noticed Sam shot us his classic side glare bitch face, "I do, as a matter of fact" Dr. Mason nods. Y/N then looks over at Sam with a smug tone, his glare not faltering. He then shifts over to me and I give him the same look.
"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason. Especially with what you're going through" Sam says in a slightly condescending tone, his words definitely aimed at us. "You know, I still phone her. And the phones ringing before I remember that, uh..." Dr. Mason admits tearfully, "Family's everything, you know?" He adds, taking a deep breath.
That I could definitely relate to. "Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now, well, I'm just lost without her" He sniffles, looking down at his hands. Sam looks over at me and Y/N with a look of sympathy but I don't dare to look him in the eye, neither does y/n. "We're very sorry" Y/N offers her condolences to Dr. Mason.
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It's now late, the sun was set, "I'm telling you. There's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet" I try to convince Sam, now back in our motel room. I'm searching through Dads journal while Sam is at the sink in the bathroom washing his hands and Y/N is by the window-still smoking a cigarette. "So far, all you guys got a patch of dead grass and nothing" Sam huffs, wiping his hands.
"Something turned that garage into unholy ground." Y/N pipes up defensively, blowing the smoke out of the corner of her lips. "There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father." Sam points out the facts, shaking his head not convinced.
"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?" I quip back, walking over to y/n by the window still, taking a seat across from her on the chair. "You know what? We never should've bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore" Sam scoffs. "So what, Sam? We just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?" Y/N retorts back, crushing her cigarette butt in the tray.
He gives us a knowing look, his hands on his hips before saying, "I think I know what's going on here" He sighs, we cocked our eyebrows at this. "It's the only reason I went along with you guys this far" Sam adds. "What are you talking about?" I ask confused. "This is about Mom and Mr. L/N's graves." He puts it bluntly.
My heart pangs as Y/N looks down, "It's got nothing to do with it" I scoff, shaking my head. "You wouldn't step within 100 yards of moms grave. And y/n, I saw how pained you were when you sat at m/n's grave. And I get it, I do." Sam further presses. I don't dare to look him in his eyes, not answering. A lump forming in my throat, "Look, maybe you guys are imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about our parents" Sam says gently.
My eyes snap over to him, along with y/n's, both of us glaring at him as I roughly tossed Dad's journal on the window still next to her. My jaw clenched. Her fists balls up on her lap. Sam sighs, "You wanna take a swing at me this time, y/n/n? Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better. You too, Dean." Sam shakes his head tiredly. "We don't need this crap" I grunt, going over to pick up my keys and jacket, along with y/n's jacket.
"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asks exasperatedly as I hold up y/n's jacket towards her. "I'm gonna go get a drink." I say firmly. "You coming, Princess?" I ask her gently. She looked between us hesitantly before sighing with a nod. I help her put it on and then we both make our way out of the motel and over to the Impala, words not leaving either of our mouths.
"We're not going to get a drink, are we?" She breaks the silence, giving me a knowing look as I start the ignition. My eyes shift over to hers, a slight smirk on my face. One hand on baby's steering wheel, the other on her gear shift. "You know me so well" I smirk, earning an eye-roll from her as I pull out of the parking lot.
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The sun was almost risen, both Y/N and I were at Angela Mason's house. Y/N was on her knees picking the lock while I was on lookout. My hands were buried in my jacket pocket, fiddling with my lighter. "You almost done?" I asked her a bit impatient. "Chill your tits, dude. I almost got it" She retorts sassily, in a couple seconds, she got it unlocked and gestured for me to come.
She slowly opened the door, the both of us peering through the crack to make sure no one can see us. We walked in to see some boxes on the kitchen counter, I spotted a picture of the dead girl, picking up the frame. "She was pretty" Y/N commented, as we both looked at the picture. I sighed nodding, we both panicked when we saw a reflection of a girl in the picture.
Both turning around in shock, "Who the hell are you guys?" The girl panicked, running into her room. "Wait, wait, wait!" I try to stop her as me and y/n ran to the door. "Hold on!" Y/N pleaded, but she locked the door. "I'm calling 911!" The girl announced terrified. "I'm Angela's cousin!" I came up with a lie on spot. "What?!" The girl yelled through the door. Y/N shot me a 'Wtf?!" look and I just shrugged.
"Yeah, her dad sent us over to, uh, pick up her stuff" Y/N adds, trying to convince the girl. "My name's Alan. Alan Stanwyk. And this is my wife Gail" I fumbled using a name from the movie Fletch. Y/N cocked her eyebrow like she usually does, "She'd never believe we're married. We're too young" Y/N whisper-grumbles at me. "Give it a second" I whisper back.
The door then unlocked and I shot her a smug grin while she rolled her eyes. "Her dad didn't say that you were coming" The girl says to us suspiciously. "Well, I mean..." Y/N clears her throat, before sticking her hand into my back pocket to pull out my car keys. "We also have the keys to your place" She smiles awkwardly, I chuckle a bit but the girl takes the bite.
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Angela's friend, Lindsey, sat across from us in her living room, blowing her nose a bit exaggeratedly as she sobbed, "So, I'm sure you got a view of Angela that none of the family got to see. Tell me, what was she like?" I ask curiously. The friend smiles tearfully, "She was great. Just great. I mean she was so...." Lindsey responded, nodding, trailing of as she took a deep breath.
"Great?" Y/N deadpans. "Yeah" Lindsey sobs, blowing her nose again. I raised my eyebrow at this suspiciously, noticing Y/N narrow her eyes at Lindsey. I then pull out another tissue from the box on the coffee table before handing it to Lindsey, "There you go" I say gently, feigning a small smile. "You two must've been really close" Y/N assumes.
"We were" Lindsey nods. "But it's not just her, it's Matt" She sniffles, shaking her head. "Who?" I ask curiously. "Angela's boyfriend." She says as if we're supposed to know. "Yeah, right. Matt" Y/N says in fake realization. "Um, what about him?" I ask. "He killed himself last night" She tells us, placing her hand on her throat. "He cut his own throat. Who does that?" She asks terrified.
Y/N and I share a look at this, "That's terrible" Y/N says sympathetically. "He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess..." Lindsey says tearfully, trailing off before thinking for a bit. "I mean, he's be messed up about it for days" She informs us. "Messed up how?" I ask. "He kept saying that he saw her everything." She further explained. This sent up red flags in my head immediately.
I knew it. Take that Sammy.
Me and Y/N share a look of recognition ay this. "Well, I'm sure that that's normal. I mean, with everything that he was going through" Y/N tries to assure her. "He said that he saw her. As in an acid trip or something" Lindsey says fearfully. Huh, well that's some compelling information. "Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, was there any reason Angela would be angry with him?" I ask. "What? No, of course not" Lindsey shakes her head in disbelief.
"Why do you ask?" She asks. "We're just asking" Y/N smiles tightly shooting me a warning look. "Where did Matt live?" I ask again, with an awkward smile. By the look on Y/N's face, I could tell she wanted to tap me across my head for not putting it subtly.
We left Angela's house, and as we were walking back to the car, just as I expected. A hand struck me across the side of my head. "Ow!" I groan, chuckling to myself. "What was that for?" I grumble at Y/N. I turnt around to be met with a glare from her. "Be more forward, why don't ya? You suck at being subtle, I swear" She snaps back, jumping into the passenger seat.
I chuckle, then jumping into the drivers seat. "Subtle or not, I got the address" I smirk, shaking the paper with the written address in her face. "And I got..." I reach into my jacket and pull out the brown leather book. Y/N's eyes widen, "You stole the girls diary!" She was agape. "Yep" I responded in a cheeky tone, popping the 'p' at the end. "Do you not have a soul?" She scoffs.
A smirk spreads across my face, my mind going wild, "Oh I do, it's big, and long, and- OW!" I clutch my arm from where she smacked me again chuckling. "You're a perv" She laughs loudly. "Me??? I'm a saint" I feigned innocence, giving her a small pout. "Whatever" She grumbles, crossing her hands over her chest in fake annoyance. I shake my head in laughter at her adorable posture, "You should smile more" I tease.
"Gosh, you sound like a creepy old man" She groans, chuckling. A smile spreads across her beautiful face. I felt a sense of warmth and victory at the fact I made her smile. I flash her a wink, "There's that gorgeous smile" I retort cheekily before putting the Impala in drive. She scoffed a chuckle in response as we drove down the road to Matt's apartment.
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Third Person POV
After getting tired of waiting for Dean and Y/N to get back. Sam decided to indulge in the cheap porn the motel offered, sat on his bed in-front of the crummy old TV, "Next on the Skin Channel. Casa Erotica 4: A Tale of Two Latin Beauties." Sam's ears perked up when he heard the door opening and quickly turned off the TV.
Tossing the remote behind him as Dean and Y/N enter the motel room, their eyes trailed to the tv and back to Sam. "Hey" Sam greeted them awkwardly. Dean and Y/N shared an amused look at this, "What?" Sam feigned confusion as they give him a smug look. "Awkward" Y/N said in a singsong tone.
Sam cringed internally, "Where the hell were you guys?" Sam changed the subject. "Just working our imaginary case" Dean responded in a condescending tone. "Yeah, and...?" Sam asked. "Oh, well, you were right. We didn't find much" Y/N sarcastically responded. "Yeah. Expect Angela's boyfriend died last night, slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal" Deans sarcasm matched Y/N's, Sam sighed, knowing they were still pissed.
"Uh, let's see. What else?" Dean taps his pointer finger to his chin, "Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure we're just looking for a hunt where there isn't one" Y/N narrows her eyes at her best friend. "Yeah, I'm sure that means we're just transferring our own feelings" Dean adds condescendingly.
Sam chuckled a bit at his brother and best friend's habit to hold a grudge, "Okay guys, I get it. I'm sorry. Maybe there's something" Sam admits as they strip off their jackets. "Maybe?" Dean huffs, turning to his brother. "Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think. And I know well so does Y/N" Dean snaps at Sam.
"We should check out the guys apartment" Sam ignores Deans snapback. "We just came from there" Y/N tells him as she takes off her combat boots on the couch next to Dean. "Pile of dead plants just like the cemetery" Dean informs him. "Hell, dead goldfish too" Y/N scoffs. "So, unholy ground?" Sam queries. "Maybe" Dean sighs.
"I'm still not getting that powerful angry-spirit vibe from Angela" Y/N says, "No chills, no nothing" She adds, leaning back into the couch. "I've been reading this" Dean says, taking out Angela diary from his jacket on the bed and showing it to Sam. "You stole the girls diary?!" Sam is agape, his reaction mirroring Y/N's earlier. "That's exactly what I said" Y/N snorts.
"Yeah, Sam. And if anything, the girls a little too nice" Dean says, flipping through the diary. "So, what do you guys wanna do?" Sam asks them. "We should keep digging, talk to more of her friends" Y/N suggests. "You get any names?" Sam asks her. "Are you kidding me?" Dean smirks. "I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world" He shakes the book in his brothers face before tossing it on Sam's lap.
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"I didn't realize the college employed grief counselors" Angela's friend Neil says suspiciously to Sam, Dean and Y/N. "Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Maybe throw in a therapeutic collage. Whatever helps jumpstart the healing" Dean says in a fake encouraging tone, earning weird looks from Sam and y/n. "Well, I think I'm okay. Thanks." Neil says before turning to walk back in his house.
"Well, you heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?" Y/N says, Neil then turns back to her. "Yeah, I did" Neil responds. "We just wanted to make sure you were okay. Grief can make people do crazy things" Sam says genuinely. Neil gives them a weird look as Dean and Y/N feign smiles at him. Y/N noticed Neil seemed a bit cold towards the mention of Matt.
"Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself, it wasn't because of grief." Neil says firmly. "No? Then why?" Dean asks curiously. "It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it" Neil informs them. This sent up red flags in their heads. "How was Matt responsible?" Y/N asks in confusion.
"She really loved that guy. But the night of the accident, she walked in on him with another girl" Neil tells them. Sams eyebrows raised at this is shock as Dean and Y/N listen on. "She was really torn up. That's why she crashed the car " Neil further adds. "Um, look, I gotta get ready for work. So thanks for the concern, but seriously. I'll be okay" He excuses himself, assuring them he'll be fine.
After Neil Walker back in. The trio made their way to the Impala. "Maybe it is a vengeful spirit and you can't feel it Y/N? I mean, hell hath no fury" Dean suggests. "Yeah, you could be right... but I don't know man" Y/N says not convinced. "What else could it possibly be?" Dean asks. Y/N shrugs, stumped. Still not sure how. "So, if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you guys think it's over?" Sam asks them.
"Well, there's one way to be sure" Dean says, opening the drivers side door. Y/N jumps in the back, allowing Sam to take shotgun as Dean hops in the drivers side. "What's that?" Sam asks. "Burn the bones" Dean says. "Burn the bones?" Sam and Y/N say shocked, in unison chuckling. "Are you high, Dean?" Y/N scoffs. Dean gives her a 'Maybe...' face, causing her to roll her eyes.
"Angela died last week" Sam emphasized. "So?" Dean scoffs defensively. "So there's not gonna be bones. There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in a coffin" Y/N further emphasizes, cringing in disgust. "Since when are you two afraid to get dirty, huh?" Dean cocks his eyebrow at them. They look at him in distaste at he puts the Impala in drive, making their way to the cemetery.
Now nightfall, the three hunters are digging up Angela's grave. All grunting as they shovel out the dirt from the six feet deep hole. After hitting the coffin, Dean takes the flashlight along with Sam and flashes it over the fresh coffin. "Ladies first" Dean smirks at Y/N. She rolls her eyes, "Hold that" She shoves her shovel against his chest, Dean takes it as Y/N stoops down to open the top piece of the coffin.
Y/N grunts as she lifts it up, only to reveal and empty coffin. The lights from the boys flashlights shone, the three looking at each other in absolute astonishment. "They buried the body four days ago" Dean says, his eyes wide. "I don't get it" Sam says. "Me neither." Y/N sighed, her eyes then landed on a weird engraving on the inside of the coffin lid.
"Look, shine the light on the lid" She points to it, the boys do just that. All stopping down to take a proper look. "What is that?" Y/N asks. "I'm not sure" Sam says. "I've seen these kinds of symbols before" Dean says in recognition.
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The sun has risen, after they got some sleep. The three hunters did their research and marched right over to Angela's fathers house, Dean pounded his fist harshly on the front doo. "Dean, take it easy. Okay?" Y/N pleads with him, he just huffs. Pounding on the door again, Sam and Y/N share a look of worry at Deans clear aggression. A couple seconds later, Angela's father opens the door.
"You're Angie's friends right?" Dr. Mason smiles at them. "Dr. Mason-" Sam goes to say but Dean cuts him off. "We need to talk" Dean says in a standoffish tone, his face stoic. Dr. Mason seems taken back by this, Sam and Y/N share his look. "Well, then. Come in" Dr. Mason invites them in. "Thanks" Y/N says kindly as they all walk in.
"You teach Ancient Greek. Tell me...what are these?" Dean says a bit angry, pulling out a drawing of the engravings on the coffin. Handing it to Dr. Mason. "I don't understand. You said this had something to do with Angela" He says confused. Sam and Y/N take in Dr. Masons body language, for someone they think did something so horrid. He sure seems innocent.
"It does. Please, just humor me" Dean says. Dr. Mason nods, then takes a look down at the paper. "They're part of an Ancient Greek divination ritual" He tells them. "Used for necromancy, right?" Dean narrows his eyes at Dr. Mason. "That's right" Dr. Mason nods, a bit confused by Deans hostility. "See, before we came over here, we stopped by the library and didn't a little homework ourselves" Dean begins smugly.
Sam and Y/N look between the two, "Apparently, they use rituals like this one for communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life, full on zombie action" Dean says. "Yeah, I mean. According to the legends." Dr. Mason says firmly, before handing the paper back to Dean. "Now, what's all this about?" He asks Dean.
"I think you know." Dean snatches the paper from his roughly. "Dean" Sam's tone is warning. "Look, I get it. Okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again. But what gives you the right" Dean says accusingly. "Dean!" Y/N pleads with him. "What are you talking about?" Dr. Mason gasps. "What's dead should stay dead!" Dean grunts angrily. "What?!" Dr. Mason gasps again.
"Stop it!" Sam and Y/N yell at Dean. "What you brought back isn't even your daughter anymore. These things are vicious. They're violent! They're so nasty, they rot the ground around em. I mean, come on, haven't you seen Pet Cemetery?!" Dean continues to lecture Dr. Mason angrily. Thoughts of his own family coming back to him, of Mary, John, F/N and M/N.
"You're insane" Dr. Mason grits his teeth at Dean, walking over to his table with his landline. "Where is she?" Dean turns to him, continuing to press on the subject. "Get out of my house!" Dr. Mason orders them fearfully, dialing in 911. But Dean snatches the phone from him, "I know you're hiding her somewhere. Where is she!?" Dean shouts, grabbing Dr. Mason by his collar but Sam and Y/N hold him back. "Dean, stop it!" Sam yells.
"That's enough! Dean look!" Y/N turns his face by his chin, using her pointer finger and thumb. "Beautiful, living plants!" She points out to the very much alive plants at the window. "We're leaving" Sam says calmly to Dr. Mason. "I'm calling the police" He growls at them. Dean snatches himself from Sam and Y/N roughly and marched to the door.
"Sir, we're sorry. We won't bother you again" Y/N says apologetically before walking out behind Sam. "What the hells the matter with you, Dean?!" Sam lectures his brother as they all walk towards the Impala. "Back off" Dean grunts. "That man is innocent. He didn't deserve that!" Y/N yells at him. "Okay, so she's not here. Maybe he's keeping her somewhere else" Dean suggests. "Stop it! That's enough, okay! Enough!" Sam snaps.
"Guys, I know what I'm doing!" Dean assured them. "No, you don't. At all!" Sam huffs as they walk down the sidewalk. Dean smirks at this, "Charming, I don't scare easy. But man, you're scaring the crap out of me right now!" Y/N adds, a twinge of fear in her voice. Deans smirk drops, stopping in his tracks. He scared her. That's the last thing he ever wanted.
"Don't be over dramatic, Princess" Dean says calmly. "You're scaring me too Dean!" Sam adds. "We're lucky this turnt out to be a real case. Because if it wasn't, you would've found something else to kill" Y/N gets up into his face. He's taken back by this, "Wha-" He goes to defend himself but she cuts him off. "You're on edge. You're erratic. Except for when you're hunting, because then you're downright scary" She points out the obvious problem.
"You're tailspinning man. And you refuse to talk about it, and you want let me help you" Sam adds frustrated. Dean nods, clench my his jaw, "I can take care of myself, thanks" He grunts, beginning to walk again. "No, you can't! You don't have to handle this on your own, neither do you y/n. No one can" Sam tries to reason with his brother.
"Sam, if you bring up Dad and F/N's deaths one more time-" Dean warns his brother, but y/n stops him. "Stop. Please Dean. I get it, okay? But it's killing you. It's killing all of us. Please" Y/N pleads with him, understanding his pain. He stops in his tracks to turn to his, a look of anguish on his face. "We've already lost Dad and then John. We've lost Mary and then mom" Y/N says calmly. "I've lost Jessica" Sam adds, tears welling up in his eyes.
Deans heart pangs at this, tears welling up in his eyes also. "We can't lose you too" Y/N says a bit pained at the thought of losing him or Sam. Dean huffs a bit, not wanting to talk about this anymore. "We better get out of here before the cops come." He dismisses the subject. Sam and Y/N's faces drop at his dismissal.
"I hear you guys, okay? Yeah, I'm being an ass. And I'm sorry." Dean admits, apologizing. "But right now, we got a fucking zombie running around. And we need to figure out how to kill it" He adds firmly. Sam let's out a humorless chuckle at his sentence, looking over at Y/N. "What?" She asks him confused. "Our lives are weird, man" Sam chuckles unamused.
"You're telling me" Y/N mutters to herself. "Come on" Dean ushers them to the Impala.
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They're all back at the motel, looking for anything in the lore to kill a zombie. "We can't just waste it with a headshot?" Dean asks, pacing the room. "Dude, you've been watching way too many Romero flicks" Y/N scoffs, sat next to Sam in the bed, "So you're telling me there's no lord on how to smoke them?" Dean asks again, a bit frustrated. His hand on his hip as he paces the room.
Dean then walks over to the table and settles in one of the chairs. "No, Dean. We're telling you there's too much" Sam says, getting up to sit at the table with Dean. "I mean, there's a hundred different legends on the walking dead, but they all have different methods of killing them" He adds. "Some say setting them on fire." Y/N begins to list off, also getting up from the bed. She walks over to them, her eyes buried in the book.
"Others say- Where is is?...Right here, feeding their hearts to wild dogs." She scoffs, taking a seat across from the boys. "That's my personal favorite" Sam chuckles. "Mine is drenching them in virgin blood and pig intestines" She chuckles, rolling her eyes at the idiocy. "Who knows what's real and what's myth?" Sam says frustrated, banging the table with his fist. "Is there anything they all have in common?" Dean asks.
"No. But a few said silver might work" Y/N tells him, flipping through the book. "Silvers a start" Dean says hopefully. "Yeah, but how are we gonna find Angela?" Sam asks. "We gotta figure out the person who brought her back" Dean answers. "Any ideas?" Y/N asks them. Dean thinks for a second, "I think if it's not her dad, it might be that guy Neil" Dean says, then getting up from the table.
He walks over to his bed and grabs Angela's diary. "Neil?" Sam says unsure. "Yep" Dean answers. "How'd you come up with that?" Y/N cocks her eyebrow. "Well, you got your journal. I got mine" He smirks, flipping through Angela's diary. He begins to read aloud from it, "Neil's a real shoulder to cry on. He SO understands what I'm going through with Matt" Dean then snaps the book shut.
"There's more in here where that came from. He holds up the book. "That's got unrequited duckie love written all over it" Y/N agrees. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean he brought her back from the dead" Sam says unsure. "Hmm, did I mention he's Professor Masons TA. Has access to all the same books" Dean adds smugly. Y/N leans forward in her seat.
"Impressive" She mutters to herself. Dean smirks at her praise.
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Nightfall came, they're now prying open the door to Neil's house. "Hello?" Dean calls out into the empty dark house. Sam gently shuts the door behind them. "Neil?!" Y/N calls out for Neil. "It's your grief counselors. We've come to hug" Dean says in an amused tone. Y/N holds back a snicker as Sam rolls his eyes. She then pulls out her gun from the back of her jeans.
"Silver bullets?" Sam asks. "Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse" Y/N remarks wittily. The boys look around cautiously as they walk deeper into the house. Y/N draws her gun when Sam notices the dead plants. Drawing their attention to it. They stumble upon a locked door. Sam and Dean go on either side of it as Y/N stands in-front.
Aiming her gun dead-center, they all share a look. "Unless this is where he keeps his porn" Dean mutters. They shrug in respond. Sam then quickly picks the lock and Y/N runs in swiftly, aiming her gun down the stairs the door lead to. The boys follow her down the stairs steadily only to be lead into a basement with a cot on the ground. "Sure looks like a zombie pen to me" Y/N says.
"Yeah. An empty one" Sam agrees, looking around the basement. "Think Angela's going after somebody?" Sam asks them as Dean walks over to a tiny window with a wooden cover. He lightly touched it and it came hanging down on one side. "Nah, I think she went to rent beaches" He sarcastically remarked.
Y/N rolls her eyes at his untimely humor, "Look, smartass. She might kill someone" Sam snaps back. "We gotta find her fellas" Y/N urges. Dean nods and closes back the window, "Yeah" He sighs. "Alright, she uh, clipped Matt because he was cheating, right?" Dean began to think. "Yeah" Sam and Y/N answered. "Well, it takes two to, you know...have hardcore sex" He shrugs as Y/N shakes her head at his choice of words and Sam cringes.
A thought pops into y/n's head, "You know....it seemed that Angela's roommate was pretty broken up over Matt's death" Y/N suggests, giving Dean a knowing look. "Yeah, she was really broken up" He adds. Looking over at Sam who still seemed confused. "What do you- OH!" It took him a second but where they were coming from hit him like a truck.
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Y/N's POV
The boys and I headed straight to Lindsey and Angela's house. The second we broke in, we saw Angela holding Lindsey by her neck with a sharp pair of scissors in her hand ready to stab her friend. I drew out my gun and pushed the boys behind me, aiming straight at her back since she was turnt away from me.
Shooting twice, the gunshots rung loudly throughout the dark house, Angela screamed in pain along with Lindsey, stumbling back. She turnt swiftly to me which resulted in me emptying my clip into her chest but she was still standing. Angela ran through the door so me and Dean ran behind her but she was already gone.
Same stayed behind to console Lindsey, "Damn, that dead chick can run" Dean mutters to Sam as we go back into the house, both of us out of breathe. "What now?" Sam asks panicked. "I saw we go have a little chat with Neil" I suggest.
Now driving to head over to the college, "So the silver bullets, they did something right?" Sam asks me. "Yeah, something. But not enough" I grumble. "What else you got?" Dean asks Sam. "Um..." Sam responds, opening the book we were reading from earlier. "Okay, besides silver, we have nailing the undead back into their grave beds. It's mentioned a few time. It's probably where the whole vampire-staking lore came from" He reads from the book, explains to us.
"Their grave beds? You serious?" Dean scoffs. "Yeah" Sam sighs nodding. "How the hell are we gonna get Angela back to the cemetery?" I ask frustrated, leaning back into the backseat.
We eventually made it to college, luckily, the door was unlocked. Neil was at his desk, his eye widen in fear when he saw up. "What are you guys doing here?" He asks us a bit fearfully and confused. Sam locked the door as Dean begun to speak, "You know, I've heard of some people doing some pretty desperate thing to get laid, but you..." Dean clicks his tongue, "You take the cake" Dean chuckles darkly as me and Sam glare at Neil.
"Okay, who are you guys?" Neil asks us shakily. "You might wanna ask Angela that question" I growl at him. "What?" He feigns confused, earning a disgusted scoff from Sam. "We know what you did" Sam narrows his eyes at him, shaking his head. "The ritual. Everything" Sam adds. Neil shakes his head chuckling, "Crazy" He scoffs.
This just adds to the fuel of rage I was feeling, "Your girlfriends past her expiration date, and we're crazy?" I lean down towards him, getting in his face. My tone unamused, "When someone gone, they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff" Dean adds, his tone matching mine. "Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey" Sam growls, his tone matching ours.
Neil forces a confused look still, "I don't know what you're talking about" He continues to deny it. Dean snapped and reached over his desk, pulling him over it by his collar, "Hey!" Neil yelps fearfully, "No more crap, Neil. His blood is on your hands!" Dean growls in his face. "Now, we can make this right, but you gotta tell us where she us" I say calmly, Neil doesn't answer so Dean shakes his roughly.
"Tell us!" He yells at Neil who's shaking with fear. "My house. She's at my house" Neil breathes out. Dean let's him go and nods, he goes turn to leave with us but I stop him because my eyes flickered over to the dead plants on Neil's desk. "You sure about that?" I grit my teeth at Neil, he nods shakily but I'm not convinced. Dean gives me a 'Wtf?' look so I using my eyes, I dart them towards the dead plants.
His face drops angrily, his eyes flickering over to the door. "Listen, it doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her" Dean begins to lie, the both of us walking over towards Sam. "We've gotta perform another ritual over her grave. The reverse the one that you did" He continues to say. "We're gonna need some black weed, some scar root, some candles." I add, looking over at Sam who is beyond confused as to why we're lying.
I do the same thing I did with Dean, using my eyes to draw Sam's attention to the dead plants. His eyes widen but quickly reciprocates, "It's very complicated but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours" Dean says. "I think you should come with us" I tell Neil. "No...no" Neil meekly says, shaking his head. "We're serious, Neil. Leave with us, right now" Dean says to him warningly but he still shakes his head. I lean in closer to whisper to Neil.
"Listen to me. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad" I warn him, giving him a fake smile before turning to the boys. "Let's go" Dean says to us. While we were walking back to the Impala, I scoffed shaking my head. "Demons I get, but people are fucking crazy" I grumble, repeating Deans words from last year when Sam got kidnapped by those psycho hillbillies.
"Amen" Sam sighs in agreement as Dean put the impala in drive, backing out of the parking lot so we could head over to the cemetery. While on the way, the boys and I concocted a plan, hoping it'll work.
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"You guys really think this is gonna work?" Sam asks us. We're all lighting candles around Angela's grave to do the 'ritual'. "No, not really" Dean admits. "But it was the only thing we could come up with" I add, lighting the candle. The rustling of some leaves not too far away caught our attention, our heads darted to the same direction. Closing up my lighter, Sam draws his gun from the back of his jeans.
Aiming it in the distance, heading towards the sound of the rustling. Me and Dean moved over behind some headstones to conceal ourselves. Not long after, the sound of a gunshot ringing out made me and Dean a bit startled. I drew out my gun along with him when we heard running towards us. We saw Sam running from Angela, who had a bullet wound in her forehead. Sam tripped when Angela caught up to him.
Grabbing him by his shoulder, straddling him from behind. She held his neck, ready to snap it so me and Dean took instant action and shot straight at her. Angela jump off of Sam, near the grave so we emptied our clips into her. The last shot she collected, landed her straight into her grave. Dean and I ran over in a bolt with Dean wielding the blade to nail her back in his hand.
Dean jumped into the grave, straddled and stabbed her without hesitation. "Wait don't!" Angela pleaded but soon fell dead again as Dean sunk the blade further into her. "What's dead should stay dead" Dean growls.
Morning came and the boys and I were just finished recovering Angelas grave. Patting the dirt with the back of our shovels. "Rest in peace" Sam mutters. "Yeah, for good this time, okay?" I add out of breath. I picked up the duffel bag from the ground and Dean took my shovel from me as Sam threw his over his shoulder.
"You know, the whole fake-ritual thing, luring Angela into the cemetery....pretty sharp you two came up with that so in sync on the spot" Sam compliments us, impressed. "Thanks" Dean smirks. "Yeah, appreciate it" I smile, "But did we have to use me as bait?" Sam chuckles. Me and Dean laugh along at this, "Figured you were more her type. She had pretty crappy taste in guys" Dean quipped back.
I bursted out laughing at this, "I think she broke my hand." Sam mutters in pain. "You're just too fragile" Dean jokes. "Don't worry Sammy, we'll get it looked at later" I pat his shoulder. Dean then turns to look at Mary's grave, a bit of anguish and pain in his eyes. My heart pained for him. Sam and I share a look at this, "You wanna stay for a while?" I ask him gently.
Dean took a second to answer but he said, "No" before turning back, the three of us make our way to Baby. Tossing our stuff into the trunk. Then jumping into our respective seats.
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We were driving down the empty road, Dean with a clear look of frustration on his face. Sam and I chose not to say anything, not wanting to anger him further. He then suddenly stopped the car at the side of the road, getting out, he harshly slammed the door shut. Sam and I shared a look before getting out. Dean sat on the impalas hood, deep in thought, anguish etched over his face.
"Dean, what is it?" Sam asks concerned. "I'm sorry, guys" Dean says sincerely to us after a long pause. We're both taken back by this, "For what?" I ask a bit confused. "The way I've been acting." Dean sighs painfully, I then moved to take a seat next to him on the hood and Sam sat next to me, sandwiching me between the two of them,
"And for Dad" Dean adds, tears welling up in his pain stricken eyes. Our heads darted over to him, "He was your dad too. And it's my fault that he's gone" His head drops to his feet. "What are you talking about?" Sam shakes his head in disbelief. "I know you guys have been thinking it. So have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out" Dean mutters.
My gaze drops to my hands, "Back at the hospital, you know, full recovery. It was a miracle" He turned to us, "And five minutes later, Dad's dead and the Colt's gone" Dean continues. "Dean-" I try to assure him it's not his fault but he cuts me off.
"You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down, exactly. But dads dead because of me, and he gave up the thing that f/n died getting to save me. That much I do know" Dean says solemnly, his hands stuffed in his jacket. My heart panged at the mention of my father.
"We don't know that. Not for sure" Sam tries to comfort him but Dean shakes his head, "Sam. You two, dad and f/n....you're the most important people in my life" Dean admits, a tears threatening to roll out of his eyes. My heart swelled at this, "And now, I never should've come back. It wasn't natural. And now look what come of it" Dean shakes his head.
"I was dead, and I should've stayed dead." Deans lip quivers, "You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it....so tell me" Dean looks over at us. "What could you possibly say to make that alright?" He sobs, his beautiful face now drenched. My breath hitched in my throat, a lump grew from seeing him so pained.
Sam couldn't answer and neither could I. Gently, I laid my head on his shoulder, linking my arm into his. Trying to comfort him, I clasped my hand into his. My thumb caressed his knuckles as he laid his cheek against the top of my head. The dampness from his tears soaking my hair and he shook, sobbing. We all sat there, mourning the loss of our fathers as we looked out into the mountains.
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Authors Note: Surprise again!! I know it’s random but I thought it would be nice to do part of an episode in Deans POV for once, get a bit of his perspective lol. I was nervous to write in his POV mainly because I don’t think I could get into his head as good….you know?? Lol.
Anyways, does everyone like the new cover??? I made it myself and I’m so proud! Because I’ve never edited in my life🤣😭this took me TWO HOURS. That’s a lot for me because I’m very lazy XD. Hope you guys like it, I tried to let it match the theme of the first five seasons since I’m going to be splitting the series into three books on Wattpad, five seasons each because Wattpad only allows 200 chapters per book.
Besides the point, hope you guys enjoyed. Thank you so much for your support and note that this chapter is unedited.
Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19 @deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur
Xoxo
#dean winchester#spn#supernatural#sam winchester#dean and sam#sam and dean#dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural fandom#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#spnfandom#supernatural tv show#supernatural fanfiction#dean x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#x reader#the winchester brothers#supernatural reader insert
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— What if I'm not good enough, anymore?
pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader
summary: reader has self doubts that she won't be as good as she was when she makes her return to the pitch.
Warnings: heavy angst, talks of mental health and a minor eating disorder.
Okay, I won't lie. This was, well this was hard to write and there was a lot of tears throughout because its' a little too close to home right now with things going on, but you guys wanted it, so here we go.
Let me know what you think!
"What if I'm not good enough now?" The thoughts spiral through your brain.
It's your number one fear. It's the thing that keeps you up at night, lying awake with those thoughts plaguing your mnd.
You know you shouldn't be thinking about things like that, but your mentality of your injury was overshadowing the physical rehab your still yet to get the greenlight for yet.
Would you be good as you were when you come back?
Sure you've watched each of the girls come back from their injury and make a return to the pitch, some of them a bit more rockier than usual, but now they're striving and you can only hope that your own journey will be as smooth sailing.
Your impatient though, both incredibly and insufferably impatient.
It's a downfall that has come back to bite you in the ass, one too many times previously.
Could you blame your dad for that though?
Growing up, hes' only ever pushed you. Pushed you to push through the pain; Your dad was an impatient man himself, one with a temper and he didn't believe that letting you rest was the best thing sometimes.
The first few months of your recovery after your surgery felt long, all you felt was agitation and more so frustration not being allowed to do things that you once took for granted.
You really did hate depending on those around you, you felt like a constant burden despite that fact that all the girls kept on reassuring you that you weren't, but in the back of your mind, you always thought different about it.
The one thing you never realised would be as hard would be the mentality of it all, the physical pain was tiresome and therefor, your mental health was taking a battering rapadly.
"You okay, kid?" The familiar voice of your team mum speaks up to get your attention.
Your too wrapped up in your thoughts to barely even hear her, "M' fine,"
"You sure? You seem quiet-- What is it, does your knee hurt? Do you want another pillow?" Beth tries to offer her help, assisting you with whatever you need.
"I'm fine, Beth!" You shout loudly.
You hadn't meant to snap at Beth of course, but your emotions got the better of you and your temper has always been your worst enemy, amongst other things.
"O... Okay," Beth is taken back by your sudden burst of anger. "Well, you know I'm just through the kitchen if you need me, okay?" She reassures you.
"Mhm," You barely acknowledge her precense, choosing to stare blankly at old episode of Bones you'd put on to try and disract your mind.
You wanted to retreat to your bedroom, but after the last time where you remembered the staged intervention with a certain blonde english skipper, you thought against the idea of that.
So for now, you'll just sit on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity and get attached to fictional characters whos' deathes are inevitable.
"Have you noticed that Y/N is uh..." Beth whispers, hesistant for you to overhear her from the other room.
"Distant?" Viv guesses straight away.
The blonde furrows her eyebrows and nods in slow motion, "Well, yes, uh and a bit snippy as well. Should we talk to her?" She wonders, trying to figure out the best approach to talk to you.
"It's probably a good idea--" Vivs' agreement is cut off.
"You know I can hear you guys, right?" You make your voice known, of course you knew they would be whispering about you.
After all, your not a complete moron to not hear it.
"Y/N," Viv begins to speak.
"I don't like it when you talk about me like that!" You uneasily stand up on your feet, going to move towards the direction of your bedroom for a bit of peace and quiet.
"At least use your crutches!" Beth shouts aloud, gesturing to the item that is currently the bane of your life.
"Bite me!" You respond, scowling at them as you shuffle slowly past, trying to withhold from wincing at the sudden shooting pain in your knee.
At least you do a good job to hold your tears back until your in the confindments of your own bedroom, comforted with the blanket that you can wrap around you and try to block out the rest of the world.
As soon as you got the go-ahead from the doctors to start your rehab at the training grounds, you were virtually jumping for joy.
At least you was on the outside; Inside on your head, it was a completely different story. You were battling your own inner feelings of doubt.
Of course from the minute you'd been allowed back in the gym, every single of your team mates were more than supportive of this step forward in your recovery.
They all knew you'd been finding it difficult, and sure enough most of them had even got the brunt of your anger.
Starting out with your rehab process, you had to start with light excercises but in your head that didn't feel good enough.
You want to be out there on the pitch already, you hate the fact that the healing process is taking so long.
You didn't feel it was fair at all, why won't your stupid knee just heal already?
"You've got this, Y/N!" One of the pyshios' encourage you to keep going with the current training excercise, something so simple felt so hard to you now.
Viv smiles encouringly as she cheers you on from the sidelines, "You're doing great kid." She states.
"Keep pushing!" Leahs' right there beside her, her voice gentle but still managed to hold a firm tone in a way to keep you going.
"You can do this, kid!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep her own tears of happiness at bay as she watches your journey to recovery step that step forward. "We're so proud of you!"
Tears of frustration were visable, even the simplest of tasks felt so gruelling; There were even times whether you questioned if you wanted to hang your football boots up, but that was an easy way out.
Football is your life and its your passion, you'd be gutted to do that.
You had to push forward, you had to do better. You had to be better!
If only it was that simlpe, right?
Nobody warned you off the setbacks in the journey. You had to figure that one out yourself, even the slighest knock and it was a step backwards.
It always seems to be one step forward, two steps back.
You shouldn't have pushed yourself, you should have known better, but of course, your stubborn streak let you down.
In your own opinion, your recovery wasn't going as quick as you wanted it to. So you took it upon yourself to train extra hard in the gym, sure it was difficult under the watchful eye of the older girls' as they wanted to make sure to not let you overdo it, but you had your ways.
Making excuses and staying late at the training grounds once the team had all gone, pushing yourself to the extreme - Unaware of just how much damage you'd be putting yourself through.
Damn stupid knee injuries.
It works to keep your extra training sessions a secret, at least for a while, until one night when your caught red handed, by no other person that the stern blonde English skipper, so just so happens to have come back to pick something up that she'd forgotten.
"Y/N?" You recognise that all too familiar voice all too well, having been on the recieving end of a few lectures.
You freeze in your spot on the treadmill, which isn't very safe in itself, "Shit-- It's not what it looks like!" Your quick to protest.
"Oh? So your not overworking yourself in the gym then, hm?" Leah quirks, raising an eyebrow.
"No, well, uh yeah. I guess?" You stutter your words, knowing you've definitely been caught out now.
Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "You guess?"
"I, uh... Look I know it looks bad, but I needed to do this, Le." If you've been caught out then you're at least going to try and fight your reasoning for it, even if she doesn't believe you.
Judging my her facial expression, the blonde definitely isn't fooled.
"Come on. Lets' go, baby England," Leah motions you to follow her, holding out her hand for you to take.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you shut the whirring treadmill off and gingerly look at her, "Why-- Where are we goin'?" You ask.
"Well first I'm taking you for something to eat and then I'm taking you home, its' already been a long day," Your English Captains' quick to tell you, although before you have chance to protest, she continues to speak. "And you shouldn't be pushing yourself anymore than you already are, alright?" She states.
"But..." You still try and protest against the idea.
"No buts, I know you haven't eaten much, buddy," Leahs' firm voice interjects, still continuing to hold her hand out for you to take. "Come on. Grab your stuff and lets' go,"
You should have known it would only be a matter of time before you were caught out.
How could you be so careless, though?
You didn't think you not eating enough would be that noticeable, but apparently not.
Begrudingly, you step off the treadmill and clutch onto her hand to steady your uneasiness coming off it, "Are you going to tell Beth and Viv about this?" You ask, cautiously.
"I have to," Leah replies in agreement.
"Why?" You fight the urge to whine, even if makes sense for them to know, you wish they didn't have too.
"You can't push yourself, kiddo. You know how serious this injury is!" Leahs' firm voice makes a return, not missing the chance to make it known how much of a bad decision this was for you to make.
You know it looks bad, you do but yet you still couldn't help yourself.
You wanted to get better. You wanted-- No, you needed to do better.
"But I'm so fed up, Le," You grumble, walking in the direction of the changing room to grab your stuff. "Why... Why won't it just fuckin' heal already?" You don't mean to swear, you've never been one to use colourful language, but your frustration is at it's brink right now.
"Whoa, easy on the language there, buddy," Leah jokes, chuckling as she wraps her free arm around your shoulder. "Listen, I know your frustrated, but its' going to take time and you know this. You can't rush it, or you'll make it worse!" She states, firmly.
"Stupid knees' injuries suck," You murmer, gathering your stuff together before you make the exit from the training grounds.
Leah chuckles as she unlocks her car, gesturing for you to climb in the passenger seat, "Yep, yes they do," She agrees with you.
"I just want to be out there on the pitch already," You admit, slumping down into the seat once you have buckled yourself in.
The blonde smiles sympathetically at you, understanding your frustration, "That day will come, but for now, you've just gotta trust the process and let your body heal," She pauses before she continues. "I know you don't like it and all, but you have to just be patient this once, buddy."
"Even if it takes forever?" You resist the urge to groan and throw your head back.
"Even then, because it'll be worth it when you make your return to the game," Leah promises you with a gentle tone of voice.
"Yeah, but, what if..." Your sidetracked from what you are going to say, trying to not spiral into your dark thoughts once again.
"What if?" Leah furrows her eyebrow.
You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, "What... What if I'm not as good as I was before I got injured?" You confess the fear that's been plaguing your mind for god-knows how long.
Leah looks at you concerned, "You don't know how its' gonna be, but what I do know is that whatever happens, we're all behind you," She promises you as she gives you a kind smile and gently squeezes your good knee. "The day you eventually do return to the pitch, you're damn sure we'll all be there cheering as loud as we can," She promises you.
"Even if you're on the pitch as well?" You can't help but giggle.
Leah proudly nods in agreement as she grins, "Hey, I'll personally stop the game just to welcome you on the pitch, baby England." The blonde winks playfully at you from where she sits in the car.
"Your silly sometimes, Le," You mumble, finding it hard to take the blonde serious in this very moment.
"I know you're all up in your head about this, but it's going to be okay," Leah words stick firm in your brain as you smile. "Your not alone in this journey, you're never alone. We've got you."
© scribblesofagoonerr
#woso x reader#arsenal x reader#woso#woso fanfics#beth mead x reader#vivianne miedema x reader#meadema x reader#meadema#scribblesofagoonerr#woso imagine#leah williamson x reader#woso fic#arsenal wfc x reader
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admiring from afar;
pairing- neighbour!sirius black x reader
warning(s)- fluff.
a/n- just a little comfort fic for myself cause i've been a bit unwell.
little train.
it's cold. unusually cold for early fall. it seems you can't bury your face too far into the warmth of the wool of the burgundy scarf around your neck, even though you've got it till the bridge of your nose, just enough to keep your eyes out and peeping.
the sky is a beautiful orange hue when you finally stand at the doorway of your flat. you fiddle with the keys, fingers cold and numb from the bitter gusts of wind. you unlock the door, the familiar soft padded steps echoing as your cat walks towards you, her silver eyes sparkling through the coat of black fur; a quiet contrast.
'hello baby,' you say, as she purrs at your feet, nuzzling her snout through your flared trousers. sometimes you think you'd gotten a 'broken' cat, considering your cat wasn't stereotypically 'rude' or very 'unsocial'.
you put down the groceries, picking her up, and hiding her within the warmth of your wool sweater.
'hello,' a voice behind you almost startles you, breaking the sweet moment. you turn around, sliding down the scarf from your face. it's your neighbour- the very handsome who'd moved in a few weeks ago.
'hi,' you greeted him. he looked at the cat the softly purring under your sweater.
'i've never seen a cat so calm and friendly,' he says, long ringed fingers moving closer to the furball. 'is she the same with strangers?' he asked.
'no not really. she's usually quiet around the people she's familiar with or senses safety with,'
'cats tend to like me,' he said, pulling away his hand. 'however, since i'm a stranger, maybe it's the best i don't pet her.'
'i understand. cats can be difficult to deal with.'
'i know. my best mate's fiancé's cat quiet likes me. but my brother's cat doesn't.' he said. you smiled meekly, wondering to what you owed the small talk. he got the hint.
'i distract you, i'm sorry. i was wondering if you had any tea? i don't fancy going out, it's too chilly. just some tea leaves.'
'i do. come on in, i'm about to set up some for myself too.' he smiled, as if pleasantly thrilled by the offer.
'you're not lactose intolerant are you?' you asked, setting down the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. he shook his head, inky locks scattering over his chiseled features.
'would you like some cookies?'
'what kind do you have?'
'uhh...some caramel toffee ones, they're too teeth rottenly sweet. i s'ppose you don't like too many sweet stuff.' you huffed. he shrugged, giving you a smile.
'you'd be wrong then,' he said. you looked rather surprised.
you weren't wrong, not really.
'well, i'm one bad baker,'
'i'm sure you're underestimating yourself.'
*-
there was a knock at sirius' door. he'd been falling asleep, his reading glasses at the edge of his nose. the book he'd been reading was boring him direly.
it was on the floor. he picked it up before attending the person on the other side of the door.
'hello?' he asked, peeking out his head. once he saw it was you, wrapped in several layers, standing outside he opened the door completely.
'to what do i owe this pleasant surprise darling?' he said, leaning on the doorframe.
'are not going to let me in?'
'it's a mess,'
'can't be bad than mine,'
'trust me when i say, it is,'
'i'm sure you overestimate yourself.' you replied. he liked your cheek. that was something he was immaculately charmed by. and to charm sirius black - unconsciously was one hell of an achievement. you'd done it, somehow.
'tell me, darling,' he tried, watching as you entered the his flat, steps muffled by the thick fuzzy socks. 'what do i owe your presence to?'
'you're so corny,'
'just chivalrous,' he said, watching your face for any predictable retort. 'and a little pretentious, i s'ppose.'
that earned him a chuckle.
'nothing really, i was bored. so i thought i'd pop to check with my very handsome neighbour and talk with him,' you shrugged.
'neighbour? not a friend? ouch, you hurt me,' he said, dramatically putting his hand on his chest. you smiled,
'no no, you're a friend, of course. so tell me, what do you do?'
'i'm a mathematics professor. boring if you ask me.'
'consider me impressed. i was never any good at it,'
he smiled, setting down beside you on the couch.
'i'm sure the students absolutely swoon over you,'
'i'm sure they hate me. i can be...rather strict.' you laughed. a silence commenced. he gulped slowly, not really thinking about anything. he studied your features, the color of your eyes and hair. the soft vanilla scent upon you.
'i also sing in bars during the weekends. i'm not much of a good singer, but it's a hobby really,'
'i would love to see you perform,'
'i'm horrible at it, trust me.'
'you underestimate yourself.'
*-
you were present at the bar, a few minutes late. but sirius wasn't there.
not yet, anyway. you ordered yourself a non-alcoholic drink, not really in the mood to get drunk. you wanted to see sirius perform without any influence judging your decision making.
even though you were sure he was just underestimating his skills.
'hello folks,' the familiar voice ringed in the speakers. you took a sip of your drink, watching as sirius sat on the stool. the "folks" in question stared at him as if he were a trophy. as if at least one of them would take him home tonight. but oh did they know you were invited by him?
you took a sick pleasure at that thought, stomach churning, cheeks burning like a silly teenager high on hormones.
'today i feel very overwhelmed. like a teenager high on hormones, you know? because in this crowd i believe is somebody i invited. somebody who'd either flip me off or take me home. somebody i have a crush on. so hopefully my vocals aren't too bad.'
a few people, you noticed weren't too pleased by his words. some cheered, some looked around disappointed. a man with thick curly hair and round spectacles, however seemed utmost excited. he whistled and cheered.
you peeled your eyes from the crowd, deciding to take a moment to stare at sirius instead.
you found his silver eyes already upon your form. there was a certain warmth in them that hugged you. you cheered your glass in the air, taking a sip. he acknowledged it with a raise of his eyebrow and a slight curve of his lips. you relished the sweet taste of the drink flowing down your throat.
hearts skipped a few beats, perhaps.
but tonight, it was just to admire from afar.
and swirl the shine of eyes into all of the poems.
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Epistolary Novels and the Modern Age
"Epistolary" is one of those words that I always feel awkward about, because it's a rare word describing a rare thing, which means that I have to say "an epistolary novel, one composed mostly of letters between characters", but then I feel as though this might be redundant and insulting, like the person I'm talking to just wants me to get on with it, because of course they know what an epistolary novel is, and the fact that I have clarified it for them is insulting.
Anyway, I have a particular love of writing letters, and so have a particular love of epistolary novels. I think it would be great if they made a comeback.
We talk to people online, and they have a profile picture, and maybe the occasional photo that reveals their physical form, but text is mostly how you get to know them. You get to understand their grammar, the clusters of concepts they're drawn to, their affection for the em-dash and parentheticals of all kinds, the way they'll resurrect a conversation from days before, which shows that it was on their mind. You read the pauses in their discord messages for meaning. You somehow divine their tone from whether a sentence has a period or not.
And then there's something magical that happens if you meet them in person: you get to learn them all over again. Their mind is the same, that hasn't changed, but all the grammar is suddenly different. They talk with their hands, or have long pauses looking up at the ceiling while they think about things, or are quick with a joke in a way that you would not at all have expected. Maybe you had some sense that they were always stoically typing away at their computer with a cup of tea beside them when you read their responses, but in person they smile and nod a lot, grinning as they listen to whatever you're saying.
I think the thing that I've read that comes closest to interrogating this is @nostalgebraist's The Northen Caves, which holds a place in my heart for the way it talks about this weird divide, and the way it nails differences in how people talk online.
Of course I want to write an epistolary novel, and secondarily, a modern epistolary novel that's about email and discords and tumblr and whatever. I want to write All the Novels. It feels like there's something to say about how we relate to each other. But unlike a letter, which comes in and is read all at once, the online stuff is pervasive, and I don't think that a simple transcript would be enough — wouldn't catch all of the anxiety of waiting on the three little dots to resolve into words, or the feeling of typing something in and deleting it.
I'm at a convention right now, and have met a bunch of people whose stuff I've read, and people who have read my stuff, and sometimes, people I've interacted with online. Sometimes I know them well enough to know their textual quirks and tics, the energy that they bring to a blog post, and it's set my mind whirling with ideas about how I can harness this dissonance for novel-writing purposes. And sometimes it goes the other way, meeting a person at a campfire, wondering vaguely what their deal is, and then reading through a dozen of their most insightful blog posts, which give a very different view of who they are.
I don't know form either of these novels will take, whether the idea of people being different in different environments has something to say about anything. There's meat here though: I can smell it.
(There's a tumblr post going around about wet drip narrators who were only in novels of the 18th century because of a demand that there be a diegetic reason for the text to exist, and this is one of the reasons that epistolary novels saw a rise in readership — the letters exist, so it's easy for the reader to suspend their disbelief of how they could come to be holding this text.)
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I Don't Smoke
Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader
Author's note: this hatched as an idea for @tightjeansjavi 's june writing challenge but it doesn't end as I thought it would necessarily but I kinda lurv it so (ps thank you @egcdeath for your help 🫶)
Summary: "Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you'll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you'll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small quiet room." aka Javi makes a reappearance in your life [8.6k (she’s a whopper)]
Warnings: canonical type shit
It's a random Friday in April 1998 when you're walking down the hallway of FBI headquarters and hear a familiar voice call your name. Not just any voice but a voice you came to know as well as you would know your own. A voice you loved. A voice you haven't heard in four years. You freeze in your tracks and take two breaths before you actually turn around to see him.
He smiles big as he approaches you, and you struggle to find the same response. His hair is shorter and styled nicely, and he's wearing a bureaucratic suit, which you know he hates or used to hate. He's broader than you remember and seemingly more confident. You're still tense, but once he's close enough, muscle memory takes over, and you hug him.
His cologne is different. For some reason, that tugs at your heart.
"Hey, honey," he says into your hair, squeezing you a little harder. You hold him for another second before remembering you're at work and let him go. "Wasn't expectin' such a warm welcome."
"Well, that's what happens when you see an old friend for the first time in a long time." You say and Javi smirks, scratching at the stubble on his jaw.
"'Old friend.' Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"It is when I'm at work and have a reputation to uphold."
"Right," he says and puts his hands up in defense. "Didn't mean to insult Ms. FBI."
"What are you doing here? Last I heard, you resigned." You redirect, making him laugh even though you just gave away that you kept up with him even after you broke up.
"Stoddard asked me to teach a few classes to incoming DEA agents. Figured it was a good enough reason to get out of Texas," he says. You step to the side to let somebody go by in the hallway, and that ever-wandering eye falls down your body. "You look great."
"You too," you adjust some files against your chest, suddenly all too aware of how heavy his gaze is, and glance around. "How long are you in town for?"
"A week. We should get drinks or something. Catch up." He says, and you laugh at the absurdity of it all. You're talking like you went to college together, and you're gonna reminisce about the good ole days over a few drinks. You take a deep breath and nod.
"Sure, Javi. When are you free?"
"For you? Any time," he says so easily your heart squeezes. "But, I'm around tonight. I can meet you at the bar across from the Hill after work?"
"That works for me."
"Alright, then. I'll see you tonight." He smiles and looks you over again before swaggering down the hallway and into one of the classrooms like he used to walk to your desk or into your apartment. Nostalgia and something bigger bubbles in your throat, and you swallow it down.
You've often wondered about what it'd be like if you ever saw Javi again.
You never expected it would sting as much as it does.
You force yourself down the hallway into your office and let out a big sigh as you bury your head in your hands. Your engagement is cold against your skin.
You should be planning a wedding. You should be debating which version of white the napkins should be— eggshell or cream— or fighting with vendors on the phone. You should be doing a lot of things in the two months leading up to your wedding. Getting drinks with your ex is not one of them.
You worked at the United States Embassy in Bogotá during the hunt for Pablo Escobar in the early nineties. You were a fresh graduate from the DEA academy and got shipped off the day after you passed all your exams. They needed bodies in chairs and on the ground doing work to end the drug war, and you just happened to have a pulse and the qualification. Javier Peña happened to have those same things. Now, he's known as one of the men who took down the most dangerous crime syndicates in Latin America, but, at the time, he was just Javi.
He was a little older, a little more experienced, and, by all accounts, a little bit of a slut. He had a wandering eye and a bad habit of sleeping with newly minted Embassy employees who didn't know better. You were warned about Javi and his brown eyes and swagger, but you couldn't avoid him. He was your coworker, for Christ's sake. So all you could do was remind yourself you were there for a job and try to ignore him when possible. What they don't tell you about being thousands of miles away from home and dealing with nightmare-inducing horrors every single day is that you start looking for comfort wherever you can find it.
You made bad decisions like smoking cigarette after cigarette, sneaking just a little bit of whiskey in your coffee, or letting Javi bend you over his desk and leave bruises on your skin as he buried himself inside you. One time, you told yourself. You'll do this one time to get it out of your system, and then you'll both move on. As long as it didn't interfere with work, you thought it was okay to fuck him once, but either convenience or care kept you reaching for each other for the rest of your time in Colombia.
You spent most nights at his apartment because it was a little nicer and it felt like it would be too real if he entered your space. For all his sarcasm and hard edges, he was sweet with you. He'd make you breakfast and drive you to work under the guise of carpooling. Over time, you started to learn all his little quirks and tells, and you looked for him first when the smoke cleared and the gunfire ceased. He started stealing files off your pile of paperwork so you'd have less work to do, cook your favorite meals, and was ready with open arms when things got to be too much.
The love was like everything else that happened between you: quiet yet all-consuming.
As the months stretched on and you only grew to love him more and more, you started to imagine a life with him. You were naive and had too much faith in the world, but you couldn't stop yourself. The daydreams of a house with a big backyard, a dog, and maybe a few kids to fill it kept you alive when it felt like not even the weapon attached to your hip could. You wanted it so bad. You told him how much you wanted it, and he agreed despite how fucking crazy it sounded out loud. Love allows you to be delusional to avoid the possibility of rejection.
And you loved him so much that you let yourself believe once Escobar was dead or in prison that, you could go home together and live a somewhat normal life. That he could give it all up. That you could make it work.
So you threw yourself into the hunt. You didn't sleep. You barely ate. You went from smoking a few cigarettes a day to a pack as you got closer and closer. Javi wasn't much better off, and you definitely enabled each other's behavior, but you believed so hard in this future that you thought it would be worth it in the end.
He got snappy, and you argued a lot. You both shut down so much that it's a miracle you could find your way back to normalcy. He didn't even tell you when he got sent to D.C. for questioning. He just disappeared. When you and Steve stood over Escobar's body on a rooftop in Medellín, you couldn't focus on anything but the blood splatter on the shoes Javi got you as an early Christmas gift. At the end of the day, your only thought was, "It's over. We can go home. We can start over. We can make something of this."
Escobar wasn't even cold when Javi accepted a new position in Cali.
Everything he'd seen and done, the things you counseled each other through, the faces that kept him up at night didn't matter as much as that job. He broke the news to you as you were packing up your apartment. "There's an opportunity out there for you, too," he said, looking at you with those big eyes. You almost folded, drowning in affection for him, until you remembered how many times he'd almost died or disappeared without a word or struggled so much he buried his memories between your legs or at the bottom of a bottle.
How could he want to return to that? How could he want you to return to that?
That's when you broke.
You don't remember exactly what was said during the argument, but you know it was bad. There was a lot of yelling and tears. You said things you didn't mean, and he returned the favor. It went on for what seemed like hours, back and forth back and forth, until you were exhausted and done negotiating. You gave him an ultimatum: come to D.C. with you and start your lives, or go to Cali. He chose Cali. You chose D.C., and that was it.
That had to be it.
You didn't talk much in those final days, but you did a lot of crying. The horrors he helped keep at bay threatened to suffocate you. You were a shell of a person, but you couldn't reach for him again, knowing he didn't love you enough to stay with you. You had the tiniest shred of self-respect.
So, the day you left, you gave his stuff back, and he drove you to the airport in complete silence, even walking you all the way to the terminal without saying a word. His final act of care even when you'd told him you hated him forty-eight hours earlier. You waited until the very last second to get on the plane, hoping he'd change his mind or you'd change yours. You were both too stubborn and too broken, so you wished him luck and left. You didn't even hug him because you were so scared you'd never leave his arms if you did.
Things happened fast once you were stateside again. Within a week, you found a nice apartment in D.C., transferred to the FBI, adopted a cat named Astro, and swore off dating. With all your experience in Colombia, you got your pick of jobs and workload. You avoided field work for a while and got stuck pushing papers around at your desk, but you got bored three months in and asked to go back out. Your first case back in the field had you dealing with a serial arsonist who may or may not have had ties to a terrorist group. You were examining the rubble of yet another building when one of the firefighters called your name.
Harry was tall and charming and trying to explain something about accelerants, but all you could do was watch his scarred hands as they pointed. You remember thinking he was going to be a problem. It took three more fires for you to catch your guy, and Harry would later say it took those fires to build up the courage to ask you out. "You were much scarier than any fire," he told you. He had soot on his cheeks, and the flashing lights made his eyes sparkle. There was something about that stupid New York accent that just made you melt.
You thought one date couldn't hurt. You thought it would help you adjust to your new life. When he showed up in a nice shirt with a bouquet of flowers to pick you up for your first date, you knew you were fucked.
You went on a second date. And a third. And a fourth. He was patient with you as you struggled to open up to him about your time in the DEA and never pressured you to tell him anything you weren't ready to. That Christmas, you went home to New York with him and met his parents and all three of his sisters. By the next spring, you, Harry, and Astro moved into an apartment halfway between each of your jobs.
You got into the habit of bringing him cookies when he worked overnights at the station and smelling his shirt when he got home because, more often than not, it'd still smell like smoke. He'd surprise you with coffee or flowers at work "just because" and drag you away from your desk when you've been staring at the same words for however long. When a bullet grazed you in the middle of a chase, he made one of his EMT friends drive him to the hospital you were at in the ambulance with the lights on so he could get there as fast as possible. He made it in seven minutes and started crying the moment he saw you lying in the hospital bed, even though you were completely fine.
For something as unexpected as this relationship, you guys work really well. He cooks dinner, and you wash the dishes at the end of the night. He looks at big houses in nice neighborhoods and humors you even though there's no way you can afford it with two civil servant paychecks. But, when you see him playing with your nieces and nephews, something so deep inside you aches that you think the life-long debt would be worth it if it meant he got to be a dad. You take time off to visit his family, and even though he thinks it's the most badass thing about you, he doesn't say anything about your involvement with Escobar until you accidentally let something slip during a barbecue. When work gets too much, you hold each other, cry, and make promises to stay alive.
He proposes to you on the fourth anniversary of your first date. You knew he would because you'd looked at rings together, but you blub like a baby anyway and almost tackle him to the ground in Rock Creek Park. You're deliriously happy as you celebrate your engagement and even as you start to plan the wedding. It's like you blinked, and suddenly, it'd been four years since you left Colombia, and you're living the life you dreamt about, just with a new person. A person you love so fucking much, you still get butterflies when he walks in the room. The ring on your finger and the way he casually drops "my wife" into conversation when he means "fiancée" only adds to the giddiness.
You can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him. So, why the fuck did you agree to get drinks with Javi?
You pick your head up and dial the firehouse number before your brain can fully devolve into panic mode. They might be out dealing with a fire, but you figure it's worth a shot. On the second ring, Jack answers with his gruff "D.C. Fire Station 19."
"Hey, Jack."
"Oh, hey, darlin'! How're you doin'?" He asks, and you swear you can hear him smiling. Jack is one of Harry's best friends and groomsmen, and he absolutely adores you.
"I'm good. How're you?" You ask, already feeling the weight come off your shoulders just from talking to someone.
"You know, I can't complain. I mean, I could, but I won't," he says, and you laugh. "You callin' for your lover boy?"
"If he's not busy, yes."
"Nah, you're all good. Well, listen, it was nice talkin' to you, sweetheart. I'll get him now." He says before yelling Harry's name through the station so loud you wonder if the neighbors could hear him. There's some shuffling and a quick "'S your wife" as the phone changes hands. The identifier makes you laugh and it's the first thing Harry hears when he presses the phone to his ear.
"Oh, you have no idea how much I needed to hear that." He swoons, and you make a sympathetic noise.
"Rough day?"
"No, I just miss you."
"You're so cheesy," you say. "I miss you too. A lot."
"You okay? You sound off." He asks, and you chuckle. Of course, he caught the tiniest change in your voice.
"I'm okay. I bumped into somebody I worked with in Colombia today, so I just… feel weird," you say, rubbing your forehead. You hear him shuffle like he's trying to move to a more private place, but the cord on the phone isn't letting him get very far.
"Good weird or bad weird?"
"I don't know. Just weird. We're gonna get some drinks tonight and catch up."
"Maybe that'll help," he chirps. "I mean, as much as I like listening to your stories, it might make you feel better to talk to someone who was there. Maybe get some closure."
"Maybe." You say. It goes quiet on the line, but you know he's there because you can hear him breathing and hear the distant sounds of the firehouse. You don't feel pressured to say anything; just knowing he's there breaks up the tension in your chest. "Chief is gonna have your ass if he finds out you're running up the phone bill." You tease, and he laughs.
"I'll just tell him I'm talking to my wife, and if he doesn't want me on the phone, then he should stop making me work overnights."
"Which I'm sure he'll take well."
"You're his favorite. I'm almost positive he'd install a whole phone just for you," he says. It's true, but hearing it still makes you smile. It goes quiet again.
You watch people mill around the bullpen from your office window and chew the inside of your cheek. You should tell him it's Javi. He wouldn't discourage you from getting drinks with him, but he knows your history with him. He should be in the loop. He's going to be your husband, for God's sake. But you also don't need him worrying about this while in a burning building or doing CPR.
"You know I'm not technically your wife for another two months, right?" You change the subject, and he hums.
"Yeah, but it has a nice ring to it. My wife." Even the way he says it over the phone makes you giddy.
"I can't argue with that." You say. He takes a deep breath, and you copy him.
"You're gonna be okay. Go get drinks with your friend and try to have some fun. Maybe invite them to the wedding if you get drunk enough and decide it's a good idea," he suggests, and you laugh at the idea of Javi at your wedding. "I'll be home tomorrow afternoon, and we can talk about it or not talk about it if that's what you want, okay?"
"Okay." You resolve and twirl the phone cord in your fingers.
"I love you."
"I love you, too. Have a good day. Don't be a hero."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He says. You wait another second to have him nearby before hanging up and looking out over the bullpen again.
You could not show up. You could go home, cuddle with Astro, and put on Sex and the City or something else to take your mind off the day. You could go to bed early and take Harry breakfast in the morning. You know his hair will be messy and a little darker than normal, but he'll still smile and pull you into his lap even though the guys tease him all the time about your PDA.
But you're also too interested in what Javi could have to say to do that. You owe it to yourself to get closure or answers or whatever the fuck he has left to offer you.
And then you'll never think about him again.
Easy.
It's a slow day filled with paperwork and pencil-pushing at the FBI. No bombs or killers or threats. Just meetings and emails and the dread about meeting with Javi all day. You linger around the office a little longer than you need to until you're almost late, and only then do you start walking to the Hill.
It's bustling with tourists dying for a peek at the cherry blossoms scattered around D.C. and the Suits you usually see trying to get home. The April sun feels good on your skin, especially after being inside all day, and you take a moment to watch the sun dip lower and lower in the sky.
All things considered, if Javi was going to visit D.C., this would be the time to do it. Spring is in full bloom, and the last dredges of winter only show up at night or early in the morning when it's still cold. People are constantly out walking their dogs or taking their kids to the playgrounds. It feels like the city has come alive again after such a long winter. You come up with a list of recommendations of things for Javi to do while he's here, even though he probably won't do any of them. The least you could do is give him something to distract himself from work.
By the time you get to the bar, the sun has nearly set, and traffic is a waking nightmare. You push your anxiety away and duck into the bar, searching for Javi's familiar eyes amongst the exhausted interns and law students. He's in the corner, scanning the space just like you thought he would, and there's a glass waiting for you at the table. His eyes light up when he sees you, and your chest aches.
He gets up to greet you with a hug and pulls your chair out for you like a gentleman. "Don't know if your order's changed, but I figured I'd make a guess." He says, gesturing to your drink as you settle across from each other. You smile and hang your jacket on the back of your chair.
"Thank you. Next round is on me," you say as you raise your glass to his and take a sip. "How was teaching?"
"It was fine. Although I wish they'd actually listen instead of just staring at me like I have a second head." He says, and you laugh.
"You're a living legend to them. Escobar and the Godfathers of Cali? You might be the most experienced person they've come across."
"I think I'm the person professors warn students not to be in the field."
"There are much worse things to be than a Javier Peña or a Steve Murphy," you say. "Besides, I think the DEA has bigger problems than a few rogue agents."
He shrugs and glances up when the bell above the door chimes, checking out whoever just walked in. He did the same thing when you sat in bars in Colombia like he was always waiting for a fight. You used to tease him about it, but the fact that he still does it makes you smile.
"Steve sends his love, by the way." He says.
"How is he? How old is Olivia now?"
"She's gonna be five soon, and they're about to have another baby. A boy," he beams. "They're all doing good. Steve runs training courses for FBI agents now and sometimes goes back to Colombia to liaise with their government. Connie works at a hospital, and Olivia's in Pre-K."
"Sounds like you guys talk a lot." You're pleasantly surprised. They were good partners, but they could barely stand to look at each other when things got tense. Not to mention Steve leaving the DEA at the same time you did.
"Well, when Olivia started calling me Uncle Javi, it was pretty hard to ignore him," he says, and you 'aw' at the idea of her little hands reaching for him. Uncle Javi suits him. "She's a good kid."
He fills you in on his work in Texas and asks about your transfer. You tell him what you can about your job and the annoying bureaucrats you hate working with. He seems lighter than you've seen before, not just because of the drink in his hand. His shoulders are relaxed, and even though he still has the instincts of someone working in the field, he doesn't get trapped in them like he used to. It's a nice change.
You're almost done with your first drink when he digs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offers you one. God, when was the last time you even bought a pack of cigarettes? It had to have been right after Harry came home from a particularly bad fire resulting from a stray cigarette. Three people died. After that, you couldn't pick up a cigarette without thinking about the seventeen-year-old who got stuck in the apartment. That must've been three years ago now.
"I quit," you say, and he raises his eyebrows at you.
"That's new." He says like your hair turned blue before his eyes, but pops one into his mouth anyway. You shrug.
"Sorry to disappoint."
"No, no, 'm not disappointed. Just surprised."
"Yeah, well," you sigh. "American cigarettes aren't as good as the Colombian ones."
"I guess that's true," he says as he flicks his lighter open and inhales until the end glows. Just as always, he politely blows smoke away from your face. "Alright, so you got a new job, a new apartment, a cat, and you quit smoking. What else has changed since I saw you last?" He asks, and your thumb immediately presses into the band of your engagement ring.
Well, it's now or never.
"I, uh... I'm getting married," you say, and his eyes fall to your ring. "In two months." He takes a big sip.
"Congratulations," he says. It might be the most unenthusiastic thing you've ever heard somebody say. "Who's the lucky guy?"
"His name is Harry. We've been together for a few years now."
"What's he do?" He asks in his interrogator's voice, and you give him a look.
"We don't have to do this." You say. Javi takes another drag of his cigarette and grinds his teeth.
"Do what?" He asks. "It shouldn't be hard to talk about if you love him."
"I do."
"Then, why don't you want to tell me about him?"
"Is that a serious question?" You scoff, and he shrugs. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
"I already asked you," he says. "What does he do for work?"
"He's a firefighter." You know it's a cliche: a cop and a firefighter, but you don't really care.
"How'd you meet?"
"First field case I had was an arsonist. He was one of the guys on site when I got there."
"Romantic," Javi muses, and you hum. You wait for him to continue bombarding you with questions, but the air gets thick, and suddenly, all you can do is take big gulps of your drink. You signal to the bartender for another, and Javi finishes his cigarette in silence. "Well, I'm happy for you," he says softly. He doesn't seem like he is, but you know better than to press him, so you just nod.
"Thank you," you say. The bartender drops two more drinks off at your table, and Javi raises his glass to you.
"Here's to you and Terry-"
"Harry," you correct, and he laughs, breaking up the tension that's settled. He took the news much better than you expected, but you're still waiting for the other shoe to drop. There always seems to be one waiting when Javi's around.
"To you and Harry and a lifetime of happiness." He says, tapping his glass against yours and taking a drink. "Now, tell me what you've been doing with the fuckin' FBI."
"Oh, you're gonna need to buy me a few more drinks before I start spilling government secrets, Peña." The name rolls off your tongue before you can stop it, and it brings you back to hot Colombian days and red yarn on a corkboard and his apartment. He raises his eyebrows like it's a challenge and smirks.
"Don't tempt me with a good time."
It's late and you're drunk. Drunker than you've been in a while. You didn't mean to. You just kept talking and drinking, and it felt so good talking to him after so long. Once you got through with the elephant in the room, it was so easy to fall back into the groove with him. You talked about Colombia and your lives outside of work. You even tell him the story of accidentally letting it slip that you used to work for the DEA after smoking a little bit of weed with Harry's sister, Caitlin.
You laughed together until last call and then argued over who would pay the tab. "Consider it my weddin' gift," he half-slurred, and you rolled your eyes and let him pay.
Now, you're strolling the empty National Mall, working off your buzz and elongating the time you have with him. You didn't realize how much you missed him until tonight. Despite everything that happened, you did have good days with him. Days filled with music and chain smoking and laughter. You'd like to get those back. You'd like that version of him back.
As you walk, you point out monuments to him and messily retell the stories the tour guide told you when Harry thought a walking tour of D.C. was a good second-date idea. You switch presidents and periods too much to make sense, but Javi listens anyway. Every so often, his warm hand will brush against yours, barely touching your skin but enough for you to notice when he does it. Neither of you say anything about it or break the flow of your conversation. Maybe it's for old-time's sake. Maybe it's because you don't know what there is to say. The night is clear and eerily quiet. The only sound besides your laughter and drunken stories is the chilly wind blowing through the trees and the clacking of heels from an exhausted-looking White House intern as she walks by.
Or, at least, it was until you stumbled across a busker by the Lincoln Memorial. The empty space echoes with the sound of his saxophone, and you smile as you get closer. There are a few other people milling around, and a few take turns throwing coins in his case. You've seen him playing here before, but you've never had the time to actually stop and listen. He's good. You wish you'd stopped sooner.
"You wanna dance?" Javi whispers in your ear, his breath fanning across your neck, and you furrow your eyebrows.
"Here?" You ask, and he shrugs.
"Why not?"
"Because nobody else is."
"C'mon," he tuts. "Live a little." He doesn't wait for you to say anything else. He just grabs your hand and pulls you a little closer to the musician. You sigh but let Javi hold one of your hands and rest the other on his shoulder. He smirks and you roll your eyes to hide the fact that you're shocked he wants to dance. With you. In public.
Sure, you had little moments where you danced in the kitchen, but never in public. Even then, it wouldn't have ever been his idea to dance. He's like a whole new person. You don't know how to feel about it.
What the fuck happened to him in Cali?
He spins you under his arm, and you do your best to follow his lead. You have two left feet as it is, something Harry has helped get out of your system, but the alcohol makes it even worse. You almost trip yourself but land against Javi's chest before you can hit the ground. He makes an oomph sound but doesn't do anything to push you away. You don't do anything to pull away.
The saxophonist continues playing, and the cicadas chirp nearby. If you listen hard enough, you can hear Javi's heartbeat. You think you'd know the sound anywhere. You memorized the rise and fall of his chest when you woke up from nightmares, and he was the one to calm you down. You used to count the contractions of the muscles in his heart until you fell back to sleep. It was often the first thing you heard when you woke up if bombs weren't going off somewhere in the city or your phone wasn't blaring with an emergency message from the Embassy.
And now, here it is again, unexpectedly thumping against you after four years, following the rhythm of the music surrounding you. Javi's warm as he tentatively rests his head against yours, and you feel his fingers flex around your hip. A mixture of his cologne and cigarettes invades your senses, and you can do nothing but ride the nostalgia wave until the song ends.
You pry yourself from Javi to turn and applaud the saxophonist, and he gives a gracious bow. Javi looks a little disappointed that the song is over but drops a ten-dollar bill in the saxophone case anyway.
"Didn't take you for a dancer." You say as you walk away from the Lincoln Memorial, and he shrugs.
"'M full of secrets now."
"I guess so," you say. You start walking toward your apartment, suddenly too cold and tired now that you're a little more sober. Javi follows, putting himself between you and the street and grazing your lower back whenever you cross the road. He's always been protective of you, even before you started dating. It makes sense he would still be, right? You're trying to make sense of the muddled mess in your head when Javi pulls his cigarettes out of his jacket, and you eye them. You must not be as discrete as you thought you were because he laughs at you.
"For someone who quit smoking, you look like you want a cigarette." He says, offering the pack to you, and you sigh. You take one from the middle and put it between your lips. Javi is quick with his lighter, and you lean into him just a little as you inhale. He watches your every movement like he's watching a miracle unfold before him.
You hate to admit how good the smoke feels in your lungs. After three years of not even looking at a cigarette, all it took was an offer and a quick puff, and you're back to the beginning. You'll start again tomorrow.
"Don't tell Harry." You say as you blow smoke away from him, and Javi laughs.
"What? He doesn't like you smoking?" He asks, looking for a reason not to like Harry, and you chuckle.
"It's not that. I've just heard one too many horror stories about a stray cigarette starting a fire." You say, and he hums.
"Is that why you quit?"
"Kinda. I also…" you start but then shake your head. "Never mind."
"What? Now you have to say it."
"You're not gonna like it."
"Try me." He says, and you inhale deeply, blowing smoke out of your nose. You think about telling him to leave it alone, but the alcohol and the pain in your chest tells you to say fuck it.
"I quit because it reminded me of you." You admit. He gets quiet. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and looks up at the stars as you silently spiral. You feel like you need two more cigarettes and a shot of tequila.
Javi has always had a special talent for making all your worst habits bubble to the surface.
"You're right, I don't like that." He says softly, and you nod. You walk a few blocks in silence. The only sounds are your shoes clicking against the pavement and the tiny crackling of your cigarette as you smoke. A siren blares somewhere in the city, and your stomach drops. It always does, but especially now.
Your fiancé is out there, putting his life on the line to save others because that's how good of a man he is, and you're getting drunk and slow-dancing with the man who broke your heart? You didn't even tell him it was Javi. What if something happens to him tonight, and you're out? What if you miss the phone call? Guilt gnaws at your throat like an angry dog, and you feel like throwing up. You swallow hard and stomp out your cigarette before it can get to the filter.
"I'm glad we did this," you say, trying to get things back on track. Javi gives you a weak smile. "I missed you."
"I missed you too."
"You know, Harry said there's a place for you at the wedding if you want it. I know you'll be back in Texas, but it could be fun. We'd love to have you," you say, and he shakes his head.
"I don't think that's a good idea." He says. You knew he'd say no, but it still stings.
"Just thought I'd ask." You say, and he nods. You're about two blocks away from your apartment, and you start fishing for your keys out of your purse when Javi stops. You keep walking, thinking he's going to finish his cigarette and pull out another one.
"Don't marry him." He says, just loud enough for you to hear, and ice floods your veins. Whatever alcohol left in your system seems to vanish, and you freeze.
"What?" You ask as you slowly turn around. Javi chews on his bottom lip and stares at you.
"Don't marry him," he says again. Something behind his eyes is familiar, and suddenly, you're the girl he couldn't leave Colombia for again. Tears prick in your eyes, and you shake your head. "You'll get bored in a few years, and you'll be stuck if you marry him."
"I love him."
"I love you."
"Stop," you mumble. He takes a step forward and cradles your face in his hands, tilting you up to look at him, and your jaw tightens. You wonder if he can feel it. "You don't love me."
"I do. I always have. I fucked up, and I'm so sorry for hurting you, but I'm here now. We can start over. I'll move to D.C.. I'll do whatever." He says in one breath like he's afraid he'll lose the courage to say the words out loud.
"It's too late." You say, and he shakes his head.
"No, it's not. We can go tonight. Anywhere you want. I-"
"You let me leave," you cut him off, years of frustration and heartbreak coming back up to the surface as you take his hands off your face. "I was drowning and you let me get on the fucking plane."
"I thought that's what you wanted."
"I wanted you to reject the position in Cali and come with me because I really thought you could at least try to love me more than your job."
"I couldn't just give the Cali position up." He says and you scoff and take a few steps away from him.
"But you could give me up," you say, throwing your arms up in defeat. "That's not love, Javi. That's having someone around to play with and throwing them out when you get bored."
"It wasn't like that."
"Enlighten me, then."
"Do you remember when Carillo died?" He asks and you take a deep breath before nodding.
Most of your memories of Colombia are muddled, but not that day. You were pissed Messina wouldn't let you go, but you were fine to let the Colombian police make the raid. Javi and Steve were anxious. You remember watching them stand next to the radio like guards and trying to guess what was going on in their heads. Javi's gaze lingered on you a few too many times to be an accident, and he smiled fondly at you. You joked about them paying for the drinks you'd have later to celebrate. Things felt stable enough for you to sit down next to Messina. You were halfway through a cigarette when the gunfire chattered over the radios.
It wasn't an ambush.
It was a fucking massacre.
They never stood a chance. The scene was horrendous. Hearing Messina call Mrs. Carillo to tell her what happened was worse. Steve, somehow, was able to go with Carillo, so he wasn't alone in transport back to Bogotá. You and Javi were the cowards who went back and drank until you stopped seeing the pile of bodies you felt responsible for.
Javi put his fist through the wall of his apartment when he got home that night. You wanted to cry but knew that if you started, you'd never stop and who were you to be crying? People had just lost their sons, husbands, brothers, and fathers on your orders. You didn't deserve to cry. It was the beginning of the end for you and Javi, but you clung to your idea of the future so hard, it had claw marks on it when you finally let it go and got on the plane.
So, yeah, you remember. You remember it all.
"I couldn't let that happen to you or anyone else ever again. It would kill me," he says. You're about to tell him it's not his fault, and it never was. It was shitty intel. It was a trap. It was a lot of things, but it wasn't his fault. That might be the only thing you can say for sure about that tragedy. "So, I put everything that wasn't work out of my mind and made bad decisions, and that's on me, but I never stopped loving you or believing in our future."
"Then, why didn't you fight for us?"
"I didn't know how. You were so…" He searches for the right word. "Sure. You knew you didn't want to go to Cali, and I couldn't make you stay."
"I would've if you said the word," you say. "Even though I was miserable in Colombia, I would've come back if you asked me to because that's how much I loved you. Even if you'd just called me after I got here, we probably could've worked something out, but I'm marrying the love of my life in less than sixty days. And I've never had to beg him to stay with me or give him an ultimatum and question if he loves me because he wakes up every day and shows me how much he wants to be with me. I can't walk away from that."
"Does he know what you did down there?"
"Of course, he does." You say, annoyance buzzing in your molars, and you cross your arms over your chest.
"Does he know everything?"
"You mean, does he know I've killed people?" You ask. "Yeah, it was super fun trying to explain that to him. You want to hear about how I hyperventilated through the whole thing, or do you want to ask me another question to try to undermine my relationship?" He purses his lips and shakes his head.
"No," he says. "I just don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."
"Fuck you, Javier." You spit. You don't know the last time you used his full name like that. Something about it feels wrong and makes your skin crawl. "You left one girl at the altar over a decade ago, and you think you know about marriage?"
"That's not fair."
"No, what's not fair is you coming here and making me feel like the bad guy for moving on. I deserve to be happy. I've worked, and I've cried, and I've fucking killed for it, and the second I feel like things are going my way, you do this!" You yell.
"I love you." He says again, like it'll change anything. The pressure behind your eyes returns, and you turn away from him, but he catches your wrist before you can. "Listen to me. I love you. I love you. I love you." He repeats over and over again, but all you hear is, "I love you, but I can't come with you." "I love you, but I need this." "I love you. Isn't that enough?"
You rip out of his grasp and punch at his chest with tears slipping down your face. He takes it, still saying that he loves you, and for some reason that hurts more. You push him hard and watch him stumble back, his brown eyes tracking the tears down your face.
"If you really love me-"
"I do." He cuts you off and you take a stuttering breath.
"Then, let me be happy," you beg. "Let me go. Please. If you love me, you'll do that for me."
You feel pathetic, standing there crying like he shattered your heart all over again as he just stares at you and thinks. You want to go home. You want this to end. You want to never see him again.
Maybe in twenty years, you could stand to face him again. You'll be happily married, and you hope he'll be, too. You'll have a few kids, and you'll tell stories about them and Harry will pull pictures of them out of his wallet. You won't hurt anymore. Maybe when your daughter goes through her first heartbreak, you'll find the courage to tell her about Javi. Maybe all this grief will be worth something someday. You want it to.
But right now, you're just the girl he didn't love enough to leave Colombia for, and he's not the man you love enough to marry.
He clears his throat, his own tears glistening in his waterline, and nods.
"Okay," he mumbles. "I'll tell Stoddard I had a family emergency or something back home. Get the first flight back." Your eyes flutter shut at his words, and you try to keep yourself from crying more.
"Thank you." You say.
"I love you." He says again, and you open your eyes. He's grinding his teeth again, and his hands are in his pockets as if he's forcing himself not to reach for you. You give him a small smile and nod.
"I know," you say. "I'm sorry."
Just as you did at the airport all those years ago, you stand awkwardly far apart, unsure of what to do now. He waits for you to change your mind. You won't. He'll get on the plane, and that'll be it.
He nods to himself one more time before turning to walk away.
"You do deserve to be happy. I've never doubted that. I wish I could've given that to you." He says like he's trying to convince you he's a good person. You sniffle and spin your ring around your finger.
"You did for a while. It's just Harry's turn to do that now," you say. "Goodbye, Javi." He opens his mouth like he's going to say goodbye or something else, but you turn your back to him and start walking toward your apartment before he can.
You figure, after everything, it's only fair that you get the last word.
You didn't sleep. You knew you wouldn't. Astro seems to sense your anxiety and cuddles into your chest, purring loudly to try and drown out your thoughts. You reassure her you're okay and kiss her head as the inky blue sky is replaced by a stunning pink and purple morning.
A good omen, you hope.
You force yourself to get up and get ready for the day. It's Saturday and a fire station breakfast day. It's never anything fancy: donuts picked up from a nearby cafe, greasy fast food breakfast, sometimes cold pizza. Today, you walk to a nearby bodega and pick up his favorite breakfast sandwich with two steaming cups of coffee before walking to the fire station.
It's cold, and D.C. hasn't quite woken up yet. It'll be a few hours before life returns as people sleep off hangovers or long weeks. That's okay. This morning is just for you.
The garage door is wide open when you get to the station, and Harry is perched on the back bumper with the firehouse dog, Maisie, whispering things to her. He looks tired. You don't think you look any better, but he still lights up when he sees you, and Maisie even starts wagging her tail.
"Hey there, stranger," you greet him as he pulls you closer and smirks up at you. "You have a good night?"
"No, but it doesn't matter now that you're here." He says. You would normally roll your eyes at his cheesiness but your chest fills with warmth instead. You lean down and kiss him. He smells like smoke but tastes like the chapstick you make him wear because of the heat. Maisie sniffs at the bag in your hand, and you laugh against his lips when she licks your arm.
"I think she's jealous." You say, and he sucks his teeth as he looks at Maisie.
"You have breakfast, you little terrorist." He reminds her but he immediately folds when she gives him that innocent look. "She can have one piece of bacon, but that's it. We need you trim to get up in the trucks, right?"
You pull a piece of bacon off one of the breakfast sandwiches and make her sit and shake before you give it to her. She crunches on it happily, knowing she's absolutely spoiled rotten. She makes space for you to sit next to Harry on the truck and you rest your head on his shoulder. "You okay?" He asks as he kisses your hairline, and you nod.
"Just missed you," you say. "I couldn't sleep last night." He makes a sympathetic noise and wraps an arm around your shoulder to tuck you further into his side.
"Were you thinking about Colombia?" He asks and you hum. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Not right now."
"Okay. You wanna hear about why our kids will never be allowed to buy candles ever? No matter how old they get or how much smarter they think they are than us?" He changes the subject easily, and you laugh despite the pain still radiating in your body. You know he'll be there when you're ready to tell him about last night, no matter how long it takes you, and you will tell him. Eventually.
"Hit me with it." You say as you unpack your breakfast sandwiches and pass him his coffee. Maisie wags her tail as you alternate between sneaking her treats and listening to Harry's story. He knows you're giving her extra snacks but won't ever stop you.
You sit there on the back of that dirty firetruck, talking and watching the sunrise together and debating on which version of white the napkins at your wedding should be— eggshell or cream— and know you'd do everything all over again if it meant this was the outcome. You love him with everything that you are and ever could be.
And as you eat your breakfast and soak up each other's presence, you find yourself hoping Javi could love someone like this someday. You believe he has it in him. You've seen it. Whoever ends up being the one to tie Javier Peña down will be lucky and loved.
It just wasn't meant to be you.
#tightjeansjavijunewritingchallenge#narcos fanfiction#narcos fic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe#javier peña#javier pena narcos#javier pena x reader#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier pena x you#javier pena imagine#javier pena one shot#javier pena angst#javi peña#javi p x reader#javi p fic#pedro pascal
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WIP Wednesday
tagged by @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad, @heartstringsduet, @paperstorm, @bonheur-cafe, @lemonlyman-dotcom,
@ladytessa74, @whatsintheboxmh, @carlos-in-glasses, and @strandnreyes
Thank you!
Latest Buck/Tommy fic (w/ @cecilyv) is so close to completion. We're both using it as a distraction from real life. Have something entirely different instead.
In which the author has some things she'd like to work out about Paris tourist attractions. Seriously, ask me for my potted Paris tour guide.
Also, this is legitimately the most self-indulgent thing I have ever committed to paper (well, virtual paper).
Caffrey slides into the third seat at their table again the next afternoon. TK slides his sunglasses down his nose. He really is unbearably sexy sometimes. Carlos makes a note to do something about that this evening. "Caffrey."
Caffrey looks wistful for a moment. "Been a while since anyone called me that." Smiles brightly. "So, what did we see today?"
Carlos raises an eyebrow at TK who shrugs. "The Rodin museum, and then just wandering around St Germain. Bought a lot of cheese."
Caffrey nods genially. "Excellent." He glances at TK who is suspiciously quiet. "Where else have you been?"
Carlos gives TK another look, but he's apparently studying the menu. "St Chapelle, the flower market, Notre Dame, Palais Royal. We're planning on going out to Vaux le Vicomte later this week."
Caffrey nods. "Good choice. Much less crowded than Versailles, same aesthetic." TK nods absently without looking up, it's more or less what he had said. Well, no, TK had said, "only if you want to know how cattle being led to slaughter feel," and then suggested Vaux le Vicomte as an acceptable alternative. Carlos is basically just along for the ride here. Caffrey taps a finger on the table. "Not the Louvre?"
"Not unless I'm allowed to break in after hours," TK mutters.
Caffrey grins. "I could help with that." He and TK share sharp smiles that look more like bared teeth. "The Mona Lisa is overrated."
That gets TK to put down his menu. "Caffrey, why are you here?"
Caffrey taps the table. "I have a small thing I was wondering if you'd like to help with."
TK narrows his eyes. "I don't do that anymore." Gestures at Carlos, "and he's a cop."
Caffrey hums. "Yes, I'd heard."
TK grins suddenly. "How is Mozzie?"
"Says hello. Said to tell you Jack says the women in Brazil are looking particularly fine this year." TK snorts.
tagging @carlos-tk, @vineofroses, @freneticfloetry, and @welcometololaland
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