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katelyn--renee · 3 years

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Out of the Fire (Part two)

Title: Out Of The Fire (Part two)

Fandom: Supernatural AU

Main Characters series: Reader, Lieutenant Firefighter!Dean Winchester, Lawyer!Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester (Moore), Nurse!Lisa Braeden (Formerly Winchester), Ben Braeden-Winchester, Harper Winchester (OFC), Charlie Bradbury, Firefighter!Benny Lafitte, Firefighter!Jo Harvelle, Firefighter!Castiel Novak, Claire Novak, Mechanic!John Winchester, Firefighter Captain!Ellen Harvelle, Mechanic!Bobby Singer, Doctor!Arthur Ketch, Nick Vaught and many more!

Pairings: Dean x Reader (eventual), Dean x Lisa (past), Reader x Nick (past), Lisa x Ketch (current), Sam x Jessica (current)

Word count: ±2200 words

Series summary: A slow burn romance. Reader is trying to get away from her troubled past and start fresh; a new name, new town, new friends, and a new job. A clean slate. After years of planning and saving, she is able to open her own business. With the help of her best friend and business partner, Charlie Bradbury, and her new flirty firefighter friend, she is hopeful, even when disaster strikes and her past threatens to catch up with her years later.

Part two summary: Flashback to when you first met your green eyed hero and their budding romance.

Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fire or mentions of fire, fluff (so much fluff), angst, eventual smut, mutual pining, alcohol abuse, alcohol intoxication, mentions of domestic abuse (physical, verbal), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of adultery/cheating, mentions of death, dangerous or life threatening situations, stress, descriptions of injuries, blood, hospital scenes, character death.

Author’s note: Here is part two! I hope you enjoy this chapter and all it’s fluffy goodness! :)

A special thank you to @that-one-gay-girl and @deanwanddamons for being the wonderful beta’s that you are! Your feedback is always appreciated! Check out their awesome work and spread some love!

All graphics and dividers done by me! :)

If you like this story, please don’t hesitate to leave a like, comment and if you’re feeling extra generous, share! Your feedback gives me live and motivation! If you would like to be tagged in the series, please don’t hesitate to ask!

Thank you and let’s enjoy this ride together!

<<-- Read part one, here!

Out of the Fire Masterlist!

Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.

Masterlist

About five weeks ago.

The shop was busier than usual, but being the final days of summer, it was expected. It wasn't anything you or Charlie couldn't handle, of course, but it sure did make for long days and even longer nights of cleanup.

"Charlie, table two needs refills, table six never got their vanilla lattes, and table four is ready to pay." You announced as you joined your partner behind the counter with a handful of dirty mugs and plates, having just made one of many rounds through the seating area.

The two of you danced around each other gracefully, moving in harmony as you switched from one task to another. “On it.” She acknowledged, already preparing the missing drinks and throwing in a complimentary pastry for the mistake.

You set the pile of dishes down into the sink before turning to the next customer in line, flashing him a friendly smile. “Yes, hi, how can I help you?” You greeted urgently, looking up to meet a set of stunning green eyes. You faltered slightly, taken by surprise by his strikingly good looks.

He smiled, almost bashfully, as he began to place his order, seeming not to notice your hesitation. “A round of coffees, black, for me and my buddies ,” He motioned toward the booth near the large bay window which was occupied by three other bodies; two men and one woman, all of whom adorned matching uniforms. “Cream and sugar on the side. Oh, uh, larges… or eh, talls?” He added with a sheepish chuckle, clearly unfamiliar with the coffee house lingo.

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from smiling more and potentially embarrassing him. “Venti.” You corrected him playfully. You saw the confused look on his face, his head cocking like a confused puppy, before adding, “For our ‘large,’”

You used air quotes to emphasize your point, rolling your eyes at the technical terminology. “It’s venti.” You saw it the moment he understood what you were telling him, and he chuckled again, not missing the way he ducked his head to hide the slight flush to his freckled cheeks.

“Never too old to learn something new.” He chuckled again and winked at you, the gesture setting butterflies loose inside of your stomach. It was your turn to look away this time, your face hot with a blush. He fished his wallet from his dark blue cargo pants, looking at the assortment of baked goods.

“Throw in a few of those bagels and croissants, too, please.” He added, casting his gaze down at the display case once again. “Oh, and a piece of that cherry pie.” He added almost dreamily, pulling out a couple of twenties.

Upon further inspection, you took notice of the soot and ash that dirtied his face and darkened his hair in certain places. He had dark circles under his gorgeous eyes, too, clearly exhausted after a long shift. You glanced in the direction of his crew members, finding much of the same. “Long night?” You asked, trying to be friendly as much as you were curious.

“I look that rough, huh?” He teased, a look of mock offense accompanying his handsome features.

You shook your head, a smile still curving your lips at the corners, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that.” You clarified hastily as you calculated his order into the register, making a point to leave off the coffees; it was the least you could do for him… eh, them, right?

He winked again and laughed, the sound deep in his chest, assuring you that he was only teasing. “I know you didn’t,” The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, watching your face and the way you tried to suppress your smile. “How much do I owe you, sweetheart?” He asked, glancing down at the display screen.

The term of endearment made your heart flutter slightly, and you couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto your face again. You swallowed the feeling down, pressing the enter key before you read aloud his total.

“That’ll be $19.94, Mr. Firefighter.” He rose a questioning brow at the total, glancing up at the menu prices. “Coffee’s on the house.” You added quickly with a closed-lip smile, your eyes sincere. “It’s the least I can do for your services.”

Several emotions seemed to make their way across his face, contorting it briefly before settling on gratitude. “Thank you.” He said, his voice genuine. He held out one of the twenty-dollar bills, paying for his order. “That was really kind of you, truly.” He smiled softly, glancing down at the name tag attached to your apron. “(Y/N).”

A smile formed on your lips before you could stop it, and your cheeks flushed at the way he said your name, your eyes finding the name embroidered onto the left side of his dark blue button-up shirt, opposite of a silver badge over his heart. Red patches were on either sleeve, proudly showing off the station they serve. “It’s no trouble, Lieutenant Winchester...” You promised with a sly smile.

He laughed, appreciating your observation. “Dean.” He insisted as you accepted the bill. Your fingers touched, brushing against each other softly. The touch, however slight, was like an electric shock, igniting every part of your body.

There was an annoyed grunt behind the firefighter, but the two of you paid little attention to it. You put the money into the till and collected his change, but Dean insisted that he didn’t need it. He walked backwards to his table, his bottom lip drawn up between his teeth. The two of you couldn’t seem to stop watching each other, nor did you want to, silently flirting with your eyes.

You giggled when he bumped into an unoccupied table, watching as he almost knocked over its contents and awkwardly fumbled with the accompanying chair that nearly fell over. He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled self-consciously, trying to conceal his embarrassment. He ducked his head when he got back to his table, his friends giving him a hard time.

He hid his face in his palms as a dark-haired man with scruff and blue eyes clapped a hand against Dean’s shoulder, booming with laughter. “Smooth,” You heard the blonde female tease, snickering at her partner. You watched them as you gathered up their order, blushing when you caught him stealing a few glances your way. When finished, you brought their order out to them personally, earning you another wink from the fireman.

The rest of the shift went by in a blur, unable to get those emerald eyes out of your head. Charlie had seemed to notice your distraction and, in perfect Charlie fashion, commented on it as you were closing up shop. “That fireman sure left his mark on you, huh?” She teased, a knowing smile drawing her lips up.

You scoffed at her and tried to play it off like you didn’t know what she was talking about… and failing. “W-What? No - No, I - Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charlie.” You muttered, locking the doors and placing the keys into your pocket.

She looked skeptical and cocked her hip, propping a hand there. “Uh-huh, sure.” She stated, waving her hands. “And I’m not the Queen of Mordor.” She said sarcastically, “Oh wait, I am.” She said exaggeratedly with her hands thrown in the air, referencing her extracurricular activity of LARPing.

You rolled your eyes fondly at your best friend; she’d dragged you along to her LARPing weekends on more than one occasion, and you’d humored her, going along with it because it made Charlie happy. “You can’t fool me, sista, now spill the beans.” She insisted, following behind you with the broom as the pair of you cleaned up.

You sighed, wiping down one of the tables and the chairs that joined it, already knowing that you wouldn't win this battle against the feisty redhead. “I don’t know…” You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you thought about the encounter. “I can't explain it, I don’t know how to explain it… but there was just something about him… y'know?" You recalled, picking up one of the chairs and putting it on the table. "I just… I can’t quite put my finger on it…"

Charlie giggled, "Bet you wish you could." She teased, clearly hinting at more than she said. You gasped and feigned innocence, throwing the towel at her. Charlie laughed more, catching the soiled cleaning cloth before it collided with her face. "Oh, come on (Y/N)! I know that look in a woman's eye. I’ve seen it dozens of times! You want him. Bad!"

She threw the cloth back, and you caught it with ease. "Jeez, you make me sound so desperate." You grumbled, not denying Charlie's observation, despite the dramatics.

Charlie hadn't missed a beat, and she grinned, a cocky sparkle in her eyes. "So you do like him." She chimed accusingly, clearly happy to be right.

You rolled your eyes again, moving onto the next table as Charlie continued sweeping under the one you'd just cleared. "Okay. Yeah, fine." You admitted, "I thought he was cute and charming and sexy in that uniform,"

Charlie made an ‘I-knew-it’ face, but you continued before she could make a sly remark, "But it doesn't matter. It's not like I'm ever gonna see him again." You stated with a reluctant sigh, spraying down the next table with the cleaning agent, trying to hide the disappointment lingering in your voice. You began to scrub at a stubborn spot on the table, trying to distract yourself.

Charlie frowned sadly, reading into your mood, and leaned the broom down against the table before closing the space between you. "I'm sorry for being pushy. It's just that you work all the time. When was the last time you did anything for yourself?" You were about to answer when she held up a finger, "Other than this café. This doesn't count, this is work."

She had a point. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done anything that didn't involve this little shop. "Exactly. I just wanna see you have some fun and that," She thumbed over her shoulder toward the door, referring to Dean, "was fun." You chuckled softly, your cheeks getting warm at the thought.

"You deserve to live a little,” She put her arms on your shoulders and squeezed affectionately, “Especially after what that snake put you through." You frowned at the reminder, dread coiling inside of your stomach and a frown pulled at your lips at the mention of your ex, Nick.

Like always, Charlie didn’t let you get too lost in your thoughts, "And who knows, maybe he has an equally attractive sister for me." She added with a playful shrug and a giggle, effectively distracting you. "Fate works in mysterious ways, sista; you never know what she might throw your way." She added mysteriously, wiggling her eyebrows for added effect.

As it turns out, Charlie was right. Fate did work in mysterious ways because, in the weeks that followed, Dean continued to show up, sometimes with his crew, but mostly by himself. The times he showed up varied, depending on his work scheduled, which you soon noticed was quite busy. Regardless of the hour, he always showed.

It wasn't long before you memorized his order by heart; a venti coffee, black, and a slice of pie; whichever flavor was baked for the day's special. The flavor never seemed to be an issue for the firefighter, but it didn’t take you long to realize that cherry was clearly his favorite, with pecan a close second.

The pair of you flirted and subtly got to know each other as time went on, teetering somewhere between acquaintances and friends. He’d flirt. You’d flirt. But it never went any further than that.

Charlie teased you about it the whole time, of course. She wouldn’t be your best friend if she hadn’t. You’d just roll your eyes or shake your head every time she’d urge you to "grow a pair and ask him out already."

You wanted to. Of course, you wanted to; you’d be an idiot not to want that.

But you didn't, of course, because you were too embarrassed and too afraid to act on your feelings. You'd done that once before already, and you paid one hell of a price for it. Hell, in a way, you still were. Nick left such a nasty scar on your heart; you weren't sure if you could ever love again. You were in a constant state of fear, afraid of being hurt again.

Charlie, being the wonderful best friend that she is, always tried to remind you that love… true love… would never hurt you. That real love was the stuff of magic and fairy tales. That what you had with Nick wasn’t love. It helped, a little, but that fear never truly went away, you just sort of learned to live with it.

Maybe someday you’ll feel differently.

And there you have it. Part two is complete. I hope you enjoyed that chapter as much as I did. Awkward/adorable Dean is one of my favs. Haha.

As always, thanks for reading!

Read part three, here! -->>

Taglist!

Supernatural

@akshi8278

Out of the Fire (series)

@vicmc624 // @anotherspnfanfic // @krazykelly // @compresshischest09 // @thefamilybusiness

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1275

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived? We open all our presents the night of Christmas Eve to begin with; but no, they don’t tease by letting us open a few of them before our usual schedule.

If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose? If I could change blouses to shirts, then I would go with that because I’ve recently gotten into t-shirts and sweatshirts and no longer the trendy and preppy tops I used to like haha. But if not, I would go for shoes.

What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc? It varies as it depends on how much I cried. The harder I cried the more I’d want to sleep it off, because it can actually get pretty exhausting. Sometimes I’ll reach out, sometimes I write. It’s really different every time, but at the end I’m just glad I can no longer even remember the last time I cried out of sadness.

Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term? Well we know the answer to this. It’s satisfying to notice him disappear off the face of the Earth immediately after his term, though. I don’t have a clue what he’s up to now.

Last time you felt suicidal? For some reason I felt down last Thursday and I felt the slightest, slightest tinge of suicidal thoughts. No idea where it came from.

Last time you had butterflies? Ugh idk but it was probably BTS-related hahahahahahah

Biggest asshole you know? Certain politicians.

Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them? No, I was on the opposite side of the coin for this one. I was broken up with because they believed they would hurt me, if not already doing so.

What song did you last listen to? Hip Hop Phile by BTS.

Ever ridden in a police car? Nopes.

Ever witnessed a murder? Hmm, not that I can recall. I do remember having to monitor crime stories for one of my very first journalism assignments and the one time I didn’t tag along to the fieldwork with my classmates, they got to witness a stabbing incident :/ By itself of course it always sucks to have violent situations like those, but as a reporter it would’ve been interesting to see the scene and its aftermath.

Have you ever lied under oath? I don’t think so, no. I can’t even remember the last time I was put under oath.

Have you ever failed a subject before? I’ve failed exams but never an entire class.

Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? No.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? Well yeah, I dated one.

Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Sure.

Have you ever been to a movie that sold out? I’ve never experienced trying to buy tickets only to find out they’re all sold out, but that’s also probably because we have hundreds of malls in Manila alone and you can always find a theatre that are still offering tickets.

What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep? I’m not usually that way with horror movies, but I do remember running into a jumpscare on TikTok while I was scrolling at 3 AM. Not fun.

When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad? Touchpad. I never use a mouse.

What’s your mom’s mom’s name? Agnes.

Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like? I’m not interested in anyone so this shouldn’t be a problem.

Have you ever been tempted to steal? Sure, but the urge is never so strong.

What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? I’m not reading anything.

Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? Nah. I did have a Ben&Ben phase, though I haven’t revisited their music in a long time.

Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself? I’m not sure about completely naked, probably still my ex. As for partially naked, my dad sometimes goes shirtless at home as most Filipino dads do lol.

Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? The most iconic for me would be that porcupine looking ass from Resident Evil 4, I believe it was meant to be for one of the boss stages or something. Anyway, it’s memorable for me just because that fucker had been impossible to defeat and I loved watching my older cousin do attempt after attempt. I don’t think he ever got to beat him and by the time he did us cousins were already adults, lol.

On a side note, we called him ‘Porcupine’ as kids since a shitload of spikes would stick out of him unpredictably during the boss stage, and I thought that nickname had been just our thing; but I’m actually surprised that that villain actually comes up when you do a simple ‘Resident Evil 4 porcupine’ search haha. I guess other people called him the same thing too.

What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? I usually put on a playlist of BTS’ rapline; I tend to enjoy high-energy songs while driving.

Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I don’t see why I wouldn’t when it comes to the dog. I don’t want a cat or rat.

All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with? G.

What did you and your ex fight about most? It was about the deeper, more profound stuff. We never saw eye to eye about the future, if we were helping the other grow, etc. Someone was always scared or insecure about something that the other could never help with fixing.

Don’t you love long hugs? Sure, I love getting hugs as long as I’m comfy around the one giving it.

And long kisses? Mhm, they’re nice.

Have you ever purchased condoms? Only for Angela when she had still been too shy to ask for it herself.

Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend? No. We had gone out of town for daytrips, but never for a fully-decked out vacation.

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? I wouldn’t do anything that loud. My resentment’s a lot more reserved and subtle, definitely on the passive-aggressive side.

Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it? If I left like a paint scratch, no. If I was somehow stupid enough to manage wrecking the car then yes.

Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot? Oh that’s just gross. No. I do remember unknowingly parking over a spot meant for the handicapped once just because the paint was so fucking faded. It was genuinely so hard to tell but in the end I ended up just getting out of the spot and looked for another just to be on the safe, unassholey side.

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? Not at all! I love telling people I work in PR and sharing the brands I work with...it’s just a bitch trying to explain what exactly it is I do on a normal day. I’m still blanking out on it now that I’m thinking about it, haha. PR’s a challenge to summarize in one or two sentences.

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? I honestly have no clue how I’d deal with it. Ideally I would pull over and help bring it to the side of the road, and try to ask for help from passersby as well. I’m still not sure what I should/would do next.

Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? French, Spanish, and Italian restaurants always seem to carry a pleasant, date-y atmosphere to them, so any of those cuisines should be ok. I also like quieter restaurants with warm yellow lighting, since that makes me feel at home the most. The place definitely doesn't have to be super popular; I would just want for it to serve good food.

What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue? Flying planes.

What would be the most amazing adventure to go on? Probably something that’s booked with thrill-seeking adventures? Like a day of wakeboarding, paragliding, skydiving, riding an ATV...I would be exhausted as fuck and sleep for the next three days, but I can’t even begin to imagine how fun it would be.

When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. < Yeah, essentially. My friends ask me for general life advice too.

Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like? Yeah. But I always defended her.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? I mean I’ve written long letters, but I haven’t made a poem or song for anyone.

Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? These days it would probably be Arlan. He just finished his Masters in Journalism at Columbia and I couldn’t be more proud. I remember wanting to attend Columbia too, but seeing how my love of journalism turned out...I’ve long accepted the fact that that route was not meant for me, hahaha.

What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives? Finish a painting, which can also serve as a callout to me lol.

What would you rate 10/10? Seafood.

What do you hope never changes? My relationships with my best friends.

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? No, I barely have a clue who she is and she seemed decades older when she called me up this morning.

Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to? I’m good.

Where is the person you have feelings at right now?

Are you happy with your relationship status? Yessssssss. I love not having to worry about another person to spend on LOL

When did you last cry? What for? Two Saturdays ago. The one-year mark of my breakup had been coming up and an overwhelming wave of emotions just flooded me all of a sudden, I guess. There was happiness and relief from not being stuck in it anymore; feeling sorry for myself as I remembered the turmoil and deterioration I went through in the latter part the year; anger for the shit she pulled; and there was also just the general feeling of being grateful that I’m still here after everything.

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love?

When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone? No clue. I’m not holding my breath for it and that’s okay.

Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently? Yeah, unfortunately I’ve always been surrounded by at least one person who terrifies me.

What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself? Nothing more than a day. That’s something I have yet to try out.

Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like? Athenna was relentless in her insults. I dunno why I was friends her for as long as I was.

Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like? If they’re some random person on the internet with disgusting political views, then yeah; but it’s just thoughts I keep in my head and I never verbalized the bullying. But not anyone in real life. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?” If I’m friends with the person I’ll banter with them for a bit until I give in for a hug. If it was any other guy I barely know...I would be disgusted and throw them the dirtiest glare.

Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. < LOL same. Anyway no, not these days. I used to but they’re not really a part of my personal style anymore.

Who are you the most uncomfortable around? Relatives with the wrong political views.

Who has your heart? Nobody.

Should cloning ever be allowed to happen? I don’t see the point. No.

Are you impatient with really shy people? If it gets to the point that they seem aloof and radiate very I-could-not-care-less-about-getting-along-with-any-of-you vibes, then yeah I feel like I would get irritated pretty fast. But I was an extremely shy person once too, so I’m typically friendly with them and I would usually be That person who constantly stays next to them so they feel like they belong.

Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window? It sits in the window, as with most households here.

What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently? I haven’t encountered anything wacky recently.

Would you ever get a fashion mullet? No.

Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning? No.

Do you believe in spiritual gifts? No.

Do you believe in callings? Not really, no.

If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done? Hell no. I get extremely sheepish in front of a camera and a thousand times worse at posing.

#survey #surveys

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queenmylovely · 4 years

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High Infidelity III

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. A fancy event with Ben leads to unforeseen cirumstances

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: cussing, Angst...

A/N: Here it is y’all, the final part of HI, this fic has really challenged me since I’m not used to writing angst and I had to have a completely different relationship with reader to write it. Since this was part of my 800 celebration, I do want to thank everyone who follows me for supporting me and especially for all the feedback I have received on this series 💖 and with this part especially please leave any feedback you have in the form of tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

Part I, Part II, Masterlist; BLM Resources, Register to Vote (U.S.)

(gorgeous Benny in a gif by @arthursleclerc)

💖💖💖

As the weeks went by, everything in your relationship with Ben evened out. It was like the big fight and any resulting complications had never happened. Except for the fact that the two of you were trying to be better with communication and understanding, which was great and really rewarding.

So when Ben came to you with the news that he had been invited to some fancy gala, you couldn’t have been happier to go.

“Who’ll be there? Am I going to meet any fancy celebrities?” you asked excitedly.

“You already know a fancy celebrity, you sleep next to him every night,” Ben replied, looking at you with mock hurt.

“Yeah, of course, of course. I meant any new fancy celebrities?” you changed, still wanting to hear the answer.

“Hmmm I’m not actually totally sure, but if there are a lot there, you’re probably going to have to introduce yourself because I don’t know them either,” Ben said teasingly. Then he got another look on his face, “I do think Lucy, Rami, and Gwil are going to be there though.”

You could tell Ben was nervous because him spending a lot of time with them had been part of your last fight, so you reassured him, “Don’t worry, Ben. We can definitely spend most of the time with them. I’ve been wanting to catch up with Lucy.”

“I promise not to let Gwil drag me away from you for any reason, which will be easier since Joe won’t be helping him,” Ben told you and you smiled good-naturedly, leaning in for a kiss when he did.

___

The week leading up to the event was filled with lots of trips to different stores, trying to find a suitable dress for the event. You sent pictures of options to Lucy since she had a lot of experience with such things. Finally you found one two days before the event, and luckily it didn’t need any tailoring other than wearing high heels so it wouldn’t drag. It was a black silk floor length dress that had a gathered waist and spaghetti straps that led to a neckline that was low but not too revealing where you would feel like you were on display. Once it was paired with a pair of heels you already had and some jewelry Lucy was loaning you, you knew it would be perfect.

The only thing you were unsure of was your hair. You knew how to style it in about three different ways, curled, bun, and ponytail, and none of them seemed right for the event. Looking on pinterest, you found a couple “easy” hair tutorials, but when you tried one a couple days before, you couldn’t get the right result and got increasingly frustrated.

“Ugh I just can’t get it to work,” you said in exasperation.

Ben came up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders, “Can’t get what to work?”

“My hair,” you whined, leaning your head back to rest on his stomach. “I’ve tried like five times but it just doesn’t work.”

“Why don’t you just go and get it done, or we can have someone come here,” Ben suggested easily.

“Doesn’t that seem a little frivolous?” you asked, not used to having other people do stuff like that for you.

“The whole event is frivolous, and you should feel as confident and comfortable as possible at the event. I know that they can be intimidating so if that would help, I think you should definitely do it,” Ben reasoned, looking at you through the mirror and you couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“I love you so much,” you said to him, tilting your head back even further. Ben got the hint and leaned down to kiss you, both of you laughing at the upside-down kiss.

___

The day of the event started with a small sleep in, but just until 9:00am. The two of you had breakfast and then started getting ready at 10:00am so that you wouldn’t have to rush and could relax throughout the whole day.

Sharing a shower and helping each other wash your hair and bodies eventually turned into something else, which only further helped with the relaxing.

After the shower, you put moisturizing face masks on both you and Ben and leave-in conditioner in your hair. While you were letting the masks do their work, you started on lunch together, later taking them off to eat.

You started your makeup soon after, Ben watching you in fascination and keeping you entertained with questions. When the hairdresser arrived, they got your hair in curlers and then did Ben’s quickly. Watching them work so quickly and easily convinced you that Ben had made the right choice by hiring them.

Once your hair was done and you both got dressed, it was time to go. A town car was taking you and the two of you talked excitedly about the night.

As soon as you arrived and got out of the car, there was event staff welcoming you and guiding you to the carpet where all of the photographers and reporters were. Ben asked if you wanted to be in any pictures, but you declined, more comfortable to walk around back and watch him interact with the photographers and do one or two question interviews. It was nice to see Ben having fun and laughing and you could tell that he was really enjoying himself and getting into his element.

While you were watching, you felt someone come up next to you and turned to give them a smile but what you saw made your spine run cold. It was the guy, the one that you had slept with, the one that you hadn’t given another thought to since a week after the incident.

“Hey, y/n,” he said with a knowing look. You looked closer and saw that he had a recorder in one hand and was wearing a press badge and realized he must’ve been a reporter for a smaller site or magazine. Reading the press badge, you finally got his name, Jake, though it really didn’t matter now.

When you didn’t say anything and just looked at him in shock, he continued, “Still got that boyfriend, I assume?”

To that, you nodded and he laughed wryly.

“‘Course you do. Well, next time you decide to cheat with someone, let them know that’s what they’re doing first so they can make an informed decision,” he told you derisively.

“I’m not going to--” you tried to reply, but he was already walking away. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and fixed your face as well as you could then turned back to watch Ben. You were just in time to see him find you in the crowd and then wave you over because he was done.

The two of you walked into the main event area. While you were grabbing drinks, you ran into Rami who said that Lucy and Gwil were already at a table and there were two spots saved for you.

The following hours of the event passed exactly as they were supposed to, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you reminded yourself that the press usually didn’t actually attend the event so Jake must be gone.

Once the formal activities were done, everyone was free to roam around, and there was a band that was playing music in the background, with the option of a dance floor for those who wanted.

You were having a good time with Ben and his friends, probably the best time you had ever had with them because for the first time you didn’t feel like an outsider. You thought that Ben had probably asked them to include you a little more. Part of you was a little embarrassed that they might think you were being childish, but a larger part of you was glad because you could see your friendship with all of them growing.

Gwil saw someone he knew and went to ask her to dance and Lucy and Rami decided they wanted to do the same. You suggested dancing as well, but Ben, who was not the world’s greatest dancer, said he wanted to have another drink first. Agreeing to wait at one of the high tables by the dance floor, Ben went off to the bar to get the refills.

As he was waiting for the drinks to be made, Ben watched you swaying to the music and looking at the dancers with a small smile on your face. The sight made him smile and he was content to keep watching while he waited but someone said something to him from his left.

“She’s quite the looker, huh?” the guy said and Ben noticed his press badge and name, realizing that he had met him at a couple other events.

Because he knew him, Ben thought it would be weird not to reply. So he made a face but replied, “Yeah she is.”

“She’s got a boyfriend though, or something,” Jake told him matter-of-factly.

“Yeah I--” Ben was about to say that he was actually your boyfriend but Jake cut him off.

“Wish I'd known earlier. She waited until after we hooked up to tell me. Now I just feel bad for the bloke that’s stuck with her. Thought I’d let you know so you don’t end up in the same situation,” Jake said shaking his head.

Ben hid the tsunami of dread and rage he felt upon hearing this near-stranger’s words and instead asked, “Oh that sucks, when did that happen?”

“Just a couple months ago, sucked finding out. Anyway, better take these drinks back. See you later man,” Jake clapped Ben on the shoulder and walked away.

Back by the dance floor, you were wondering what was taking so long and looked over to the bar to see Ben receiving the drinks. You smiled, ready for him to look your way and walk over with the drinks. But instead, he started walking to the exit, shooting one angry glance over his shoulder to where you were.

Confused, you were stuck in place for a moment before you started to follow him. You hurried to catch him, calling his name a couple times once you got past the bulk of the crowd. But he didn’t turn back and he’s too fast and you’re in heels. He rounded the corner to the exit and by the time you got through the doors, all you saw was a group of cars, ready to drive the guests home or wherever they were going.

Movement caught your eye as you kept walking towards the line of cars and you saw the door of a car close and then start to drive away, a frowning Ben barely visible through the back window.

Immediately, you tried to call him but he hung up on the second ring. You sent him a text asking if he’s okay and where he’s going but he didn’t even look at it which you could tell because he always has his read receipts on.

You had been moving too fast to think, but now your stomach dropped and you flagged down a car, texting Lucy to tell her you’re heading home as you slid in and told the driver the address. On the way, you tried not to panic because there were a thousand possibilities for why Ben had left. Left looking angry, without telling you, ignoring you calling his name, and not answering your calls or texts. Left from an event where you had run into Jake just hours ago. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You got home and unlocked the door, opening it slowly, not prepared for what was about to happen. Closing it behind you quietly and walking through the apartment, you could feel adrenaline rushing through your body, making it hard to breathe. You didn't find Ben until you reached your bedroom. He was on the balcony, staring over the edge and though he’s standing in place, his leg shaked.

“Ben?” he refused to look at you. You made the split decision to play innocent. “Ben what’s wrong?”

“I talked to Jake,” he said in a low voice, still staring out into the night air.

“Jake? What do you--?”

“I swear y/n, if any sort of lie comes out of your mouth that’s it. I deserve the truth and for you to respect me enough to tell me the truth,” Ben said harshly and your breath got shaky.

You rushed out, “I respect you Ben, I do.”

“How am I supposed to believe that when you fucking cheated on me?” this was when Ben turned to look at you and the mix of anger, betrayal, and despair in his eyes was enough to bring tears to yours.

“I’m sorry, I--” your voice cracked as you looked at him.

“How could you do that?” he asked loudly and you could hear the hurt in his voice.

The intensity of his searching gaze was too much to bear and you looked away as you answered, “I don’t know, you were away and I missed you and we were fighting. It felt like you were never coming back and I didn’t know what was going on with us.”

“If you weren’t sure, you should have asked. Talked to me. Not ignored all of my phone calls when I was trying to reach out to you,” Ben implored, sounding almost confused because he couldn't understand. “When was it?”

You thought about what would be the best answer. Would it make him feel better to know that it was deep into your fight or would it be worse that it was just days before he got home?

“The Friday before you came home,” you said solemnly, still not able to look at him.

Ben let out a big exhale but you couldn’t tell what he was feeling. He brought his hand to his brow like he was trying hard to remember something.

“Okay, so you weren’t just sitting at home watching tv,” he commented like he was piecing together something.

“I did do that for part of the night,” you defended, looking up to see his reaction.

“That’s not the point and you know it,” he snapped. Another moment of concentrating passed and his tone changed, “Fuck, that bruise on your hip, was that from him?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly.

Ben looked worried now, “Did he hurt you?”

Probably the worst part of yourself wanted to say yes, to run into his comforting arms and use the fact that it had gotten a little rough to serve as an excuse. But that wasn’t the truth, and it would be unforgivable to Ben and ultimately yourself to lie about something so important.

“No, well, not in any way I wasn’t okay with,” you explained, trying not to say too much.

“Wait-- you wanted him to do that? You like stuff like that?” Ben’s tone wasn’t accusing, just questioning. When you just looked away again, he knew the answer. He scoffed, “I thought we were trying to be better with communication! We’ve been together three years, why wouldn’t you tell me that? Dammit am I just not worth the truth to you?”

“Of course you are, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Maybe I was worried that you’d judge me or--”

“Three years, three years, y/n! I would never write you off for something like that. But I guess if you can’t even tell me about stuff like that, stuff that I could do for you, it makes sense why you didn’t tell me you cheated. You just don’t trust me,” Ben sounded defeated.

“No, I do trust you, I just didn’t tell you because it was never going to happen again, I didn’t want it to. It was a mistake, it didn’t mean anything. All telling you would have done was hurt you, just like it is now. I was trying to make it up to you without ever hurting you with what happened,” you rationalized, chancing a look at his face. He looked disoriented; your words made him feel lost.

“I don’t believe that. The truth is always better than a lie to me, I thought you knew that, I thought you knew me. And if you felt okay lying about it, I don’t think it’s a big step for it to happen again,” Ben ran his hands over his face and his voice was quiet now, like he was slowly accepting what had happened and what he had to do. The thought of that made you panic.

“No, no Ben, I love you and only you and you’re the only person I want to love. I promise, I promise, I promise, I love you and--and it will never happen again,” you tried to reach for Ben’s arms, but he just walked past you.

“I don’t think I can trust a word you say anymore,” he said softly, looking at his hands.

“No, Ben, Ben, I can be honest, I promise. I won’t ever lie to you again, I won’t. Please, please look at me. Look-- look at me, please, Ben I-” you were rambling now, but you would have said anything for him to turn around and take you in his arms.

Ben did turn but now his face was stone, “I’m gonna go. I’ll pack a bag for now and come back tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.”

He moved to the closet for a bag and you just stood still, frozen because you couldn’t process what was happening. Then there were tears running down your face and feeling them hit your crossed arms that were hugging your middle is what made you move again.

“No, no, Ben we can’t be over, you can’t leave. We can work on this, I’ll change. I’ll tell the truth, I promise I’ll never cheat, I never will. Please Ben, please I’ll do anything,” you knew you sounded desperate, but that was because you were, you couldn’t lose Ben after all you had done to keep him.

Ben was done packing the bag so he paused and looked at you. There was just one sliver of hope in his eye. “Was it here?”

You knew you could only answer honestly. “Yes,” then the light in his eyes was gone as he thought back to the week following his return. All of the stilted answers you had given him but he had accepted as just a little awkwardness after the fight made sense now; he knew why the sheets were gone and most likely where the lighter had come from.

“I can’t look at you, I can’t be here, without thinking about it,” he said simply. And somewhere inside you knew that was it, but the rest of you refused to accept it. “I’ll never be able to look at our bed without thinking that someone else was in it with you. I won’t be able to touch you without wondering if that’s how he touched you too. All I can think about is that I can’t understand how you would risk everything, risk our love, us, our future, compromise our home for what you say is meaningless sex. Cause to me, our love was worth everything.”

With that, Ben walked out of the bedroom. You followed him, trying to grab his arm, saying his name over and over, anything to stop him. He didn’t slow down, didn’t look back, until he got to the door and pulled it open. Even as your mind didn’t realize, your body knew he was done and your arms went slack, dropping from his. When he looked at you one last time, the anger and hurt was no longer at the forefront. What you saw in his face as he looked at you now was pity and that made you want to retch because it was so far from the love he used to look at you with.

“Goodbye, y/n, I truly do want the best for you in life,” Ben said, touching your hand softly and slowly, almost as if he was remembering all the previous times he had, briefly remembering when you loved each other with no question. Then he turned around, walked down the hallway, and out of your sight.

Holding your hand with the other, you tried to retain the feeling of his touch as long as you could. You closed the door with your shoulder and then collapsed against it, sliding until you sat. The floor no doubt dirtied your designer dress, but you couldn’t focus on anything as sobs started to wrack your body, and you didn’t even notice as your tears stained the silk.

💖💖💖

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jazy3 · 5 years

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Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 15X22

I thought I would hate this episode, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Which should really be the new tag line for this season. Meredith and DeLuca are getting it on. It’s boring to watch. Also why is Meredith wearing a crop top to bed? Who does that? What was the wardrobe dept. thinking? Have they never slept before? She kicks him out so as not to disturb the kids. While I don’t like them together and I wish she would date someone else she does appear to be having fun and feeling joy again which is great.

Annnd he runs into Zola! This idiot can’t even sneak out of a house properly. The shade! Her face! She’s not having it! Zola’s face speaks for the majority of the fandom here. Can someone tell the writers? He comes back to Meredith’s room and tells her what happened. Apparently, Zola said nothing and went back to bed. Meredith tells him, “My kids know you as the sad guy from the couch.” Which is partly we hate him. He’s a loser! DeLuca says that was an embarrassing chapter in his life and apologizes again for it.

Meredith says she had a plan for telling her kids she was dating him. They were going to have ice cream and talk about their feelings and now that’s blown. I love what a great mom she is. DeLuca’s smiling like an idiot because she was planning on telling her kids about them. Mer rolls her eyes as do we all. Way to miss the point dude. Mer checks to make sure the coast is clear this time and then has him leave.

We cut to Owen. He’s holding a crying Leo and talking to Megan on the phone. She booked him a therapy appointment and is making sure he goes. Now we’re at the hospital. Oooh! I love Mer’s outfit! The blue jacket is fire! They’ve upgraded her wardrobe this season and I like it. Bailey’s on the phone. Her ex Tucker heard her son Tuck call Ben Dad and now he’s throwing a fit and making it her problem.

Tuck feels bad and Ben’s oblivious. Which is all pretty rich for someone who gave her an ultimatum after over a decade of marriage and cheated on her. What a bitch baby. Bailey is SO much better off without that jackass! Bailey says she’d rather talk about Mer’s problems, so they do that instead. She tells her about Zola seeing DeLuca but before Bailey can respond Alex walks up to them. Jo’s back.

Amelia, Link, and Tom work on the patient that became a quadriplegic and try to use an experimental treatment to give her back the use of her arms. Nico and Schmitt are talking. Nico’s fellowship is almost up and he’s applying to hospitals across the country which upsets Schmitt. It’s reminiscent of when Jo was applying to hospitals across the country.

Qadri treats a patient who thinks she has a bowel obstruction. I think it’s weird that they show her in the beginning misdiagnosing the patient and then she disappears after that. Per protocol she should have followed the patient’s treatment all the way through. Instead she disappears. DeLuca takes over part of it and then Richard takes over another part. Then a woman walks in with high heel shoes impales in her chest! Now we know what the title was referring too! She needs heart surgery to repair the damage. Richard recognizes her. Her name is Gemma and she’s an alcoholic too. He knows her from AA. Ollie was her sponsor too. It’s not a happy reunion.

Nico and Schmitt work on a young patient who needs cement injected into his spine to correct an issue that’s causing him pain. Bailey recognizes the boy’s grandfather. He’s a reoccurring bowel patient of Bailey’s. They’re very close. Meanwhile Alex is still treating Gus the autistic patient who needs rare blood to get better. He’s built a LEGO arc de triomphe! Alex goes and talks to Mer. Time is running out for Gus. Mer’s called Cristina and Marie Cerone trying to find some of the rare blood they need. No dice. I love the Cristina reference here! Mer asks how Jo’s doing. Alex says it’s happening again. They’re happy for a while then they break then they leave him. Mer says it’s not happening again. Poor Alex!

Mer gives Alex advice and says this isn’t like the other times. That they’re not broken, and they’ll be fine. Jo will talk when she’s ready. I love their friendship! Jo’s depressed and sitting in the lab not working. Jackson comes to see her and recruits her for his research. Owen goes to see the therapist Megan found for him. He’s sceptical and dismissive and a terrible patient, but he agrees to try. Qadri’s patient is in the CT machine and is in a lot of pain. DeLuca’s running the scan. He pages Mer for a consult.

He asks how Zola was this morning. Mer says she was surprisingly normal. DeLuca wonders out loud why they feel so guilty when they’re not doing anything wrong. That’s not exactly true. Meredith is an Attending. DeLuca is a resident. She’s already been down this road. It doesn’t usually end well and they really shouldn’t be dating. She asks him if he even likes kids because they haven’t really talked about it and she’s got 3 of them. DeLuca says he has 16 first cousins and tells stories about them. He says he likes kids and tells her jokingly that her kids might like him more than her. Mer thinks that’s a load of crap.

While that’s nice and everything it doesn’t change the fact that DeLuca’s a danger to children. He lost a kid who escaped, fell down a manhole, and almost died. He attempted to assault a child and should have been fired for it. I hate how they keep ret conning his character EVERY SINGLE EPISODE this season! There is no consistency and he’s really on my nerves.

The scans are up. Their patient’s pregnant and in labour. Meanwhile Richard tries to talk to Gemma whose having none of it. Back at the CT machine. OB is busy so Mer’s running this one. Bailey looks at the scans and realizes the patient has two wombs! But she’s only pregnant in one which explains the weird symptoms. Jackson tries to reach out to Jo. He doesn’t get very far. Eventually he figures out she’s drunk at work and has vodka in her water bottle. He tells if she ever does that again she won’t be met with compassion.

Amelia and Tom talk at the lab. He laughs at her for missing Link and calls him ‘ortho barbie’. Awwww he talks about how much he loves Teddy and gives her advice about Link. Bailey comes to see her friend and his grandson to see how the procedure went. Everything seems good until he tries to go to the bathroom. He’s halfway across the room when he collapses. Richard and Maggie have a heart to heart in the scrub room about Gemma. We learn that Richard paid the bar he smashed up a lot of money to settle the charge so he wouldn’t go to jail or lose his medical licence.

Bailey and Meredith have a heart to heart about their dilemmas. Bailey is way over Tucker’s nonsense. Aren’t we all? Mer asked how she told Tuck that she was dating Ben. She said on some level he already knew. That all you have to do is show up, make it clear what’s happening, and answer their questions because all they want to know is that you’re there for them and you’re not going anywhere no matter what. Sage advice. Owen’s at therapy. He’s trying the touch therapy with his therapist. We find out that Owen doesn’t trust joy because of what happened when his Dad died when he was a kid.

It’s a painful but necessary process to let go of the fear. I’m glad they’re finally addressing this part of Owen’s story. They’ve touched on it but never explored it. After a lifetime of abusing women this man needs help. Full stop. Amelia tells Tom about what really happened in Germany between Owen and Teddy. Amelia tries to help and tells Tom that Owen and Teddy are inevitable. I get where she’s coming from, but I disagree. I get that she’s trying to help, but nothing is inevitable. Owen has a lot of work to do to be whole and he’s a long way off. Teddy deserves someone who loves her, puts her first, and treats her well. Tom does that. Owen never has. Tom isn’t scared of inevitable! I love him!

Meanwhile Maggie is trying to save Nico’s patient. He screwed up somehow and now the patient’s pulmonary artery is destroyed. Richard comes and talks to Gemma. He makes her laugh and they talk it out. He tells her about the bar incident. Bailey’s on the phone with Tuck trying to smooth things over. She tells him she knows he didn’t mean to upset anyone, but it hurt his father’s feelings, so he’ll have to go back to calling Ben by his first name instead of Dad.

I’m not sure I agree. Neither Tuck nor Ben has done anything wrong. Ben is involved in Tuck’s life in a way Tucker isn’t and Tucker’s failings are the main reason him and Bailey are divorced. Who cares what he wants? That’s what you get. Bailey has to end the call because she sees her friend in the waiting room and is confused. He tells her something went really wrong with his grandson and she goes to find out what’s going on.

She enters the OR to find out he’s died. His heart gave out as a result of the complications from the ortho procedure. Bailey wants answers from Nico. He tells her the cement leaked causing a blood clot and he went into cardiac arrest. Bailey calls him on his crap. He screwed up and made a mistake and now a healthy 21-year-old man is dead. He was about to go to business school. Now he’ll never get the chance. Maggie leaves and Bailey tells Schmitt to close. She tells Nico he’s going to stand next to her while she tells the patient’s grandfather and that if he’s a good surgeon he’ll remember it and never make this mistake again.

‏Back at the lab Jackson tells Jo it was Meredith that asked him to look in on her. There’s a nice cover of Say Something here! Bailey gives her friend the terrible news. It’s gut wrenching to watch. I can’t imagine this man’s pain. Link invites Amelia to dinner. She accepts but stays back a minute to talk to Tom. Amelia speaks some real truth here. However, I still don’t agree with her advice to Tom. I hope he continues to fight for Teddy.

Schmitt comes to talk to Nico whose prepping for his Skype interview. He encourages him to postpone his interview because of what just happened. I agree with him. He suggests he re-schedule and they knock off for the night. In response Nico yells at him and says he doesn’t get it because he’s let failure rule his entire life and that it’s basically his identity. All of which is really unfair and uncalled for. Yes, that was true at one time, but it hasn’t been in a while. Schmitt’s made real progress. Also, he’s right here. Nico is in no condition to be interviewing.

He just killed a man through his own incompetence. Also, you don’t yell something like that at the person you’re dating especially when they’re right. Nico’s outburst proves that. Poor Schmitt. He deserves better. Nico goes ahead with the interview. Schmitt slams the door and walks out. Maggie and Jackson talk. He asks her to move in with him. Owen’s at home napping while Leo plays. His phone dings. It’s Teddy asking if he’s okay. He says yes and asks why. She says Megan texted her and said to check on dum dum because he had a hard day. I love Megan!

Owen texts back and says it was hard but good. He picks up Leo and plays with him. Alex arrives home. Jo’s still not talking to him. He calls her out for drinking at work. He says he’s done and he needs her to talk to him and that he loves her but he can’t do this. She says if he loves her he’ll leave her alone. He says he’s done playing that game. Alex starts yelling and says he should just go to Pittsburgh and find out what the hell happened to Jo. Jo says she’ll talk to him when she’s ready. She says if he ever threatens to go to Pittsburgh again she’ll leave him. He says if she ever comes to work drunk again he’ll tell Bailey. Jo says they have a deal.

Mer’s at home in her Dartmouth lounge wear. She brings the kids ice cream. She tells them that her and DeLuca have been spending more time together. Zola asks if he’s her boyfriend. She always knows what’s up! Mer says he is. Bailey asks what that means. Mer says it means she likes him a lot. But not more than them. Zola asks if she’s going to kiss him. Mer says probably. Bailey thinks this is super gross! Zola asks if he’s going to sleep on the couch again. Haha I love her! Mer says no, but that he might be coming around a lot more. But says that she’s not going anywhere and that they’re stuck with her. Zola asks if he can leave his guitar at home! They all laugh because they all equally hate his guitar playing. Some things never change.

So that’s that! Now onto next next week’s promo! It’s a cross over with Station 19. Schmitt comes in with the paramedics with a John Doe. Bailey recognizes him which presumably means he’s a Station 19 crew member. Meanwhile Mer and Alex are operating. Mer’s wearing her pink scrub cap with the swirls on it. Richard calls her into his office. Apparently, she does something that could cost Mer her medical licence! Someone almost falls off something really high. Jo talks to Ben about screwing up and then we see her running somewhere crying after she crashes into Richard. It looks intense! But the second half of this season has been super lack lustre so I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high.

Until next time.

Au revoir!

#grey's anatomy #Meredith Grey #reveiw #thoughts #critique #season 15 #15X22 #head over high heels

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queenofcarrots · 6 years

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The Watering Hole Pilot Episode: Three is Not a Crowd

(aka Cheers!... In!!… Space!!!)

Finnreylo fan fic for the @finnreylopositive double prompt: CHEERS!. An AU for the old American sitcom Cheers. Post TFA canonverse in which Ben Solo never went to the dark side but clearly other things happened as expected because both Finn and Rey are here.

Set in The Watering Hole, the most popular bar in the military complex on Coruscant, frequented by a likable gang of pilots and misfits. In our pilot episode, the bar’s three employees need to work through a misunderstanding and make some decisions about their relationship.

Note: This is written in response to the @finnreylopositive double prompt (described here); so if you want to jump off from here, make artwork or if this story or write another episode please do so. Just be sure to tag me and tag @finnreylopositive too!

Also on AO3

Rose and Poe trade a glance as Finn walks quickly out of the office, sets down the datapad in his hand, and begins vigorously wiping down the counter at the bar across the street from the Galactic Republic’s main military complex on Coruscant. They can tell something’s bothering The Watering Hole’s assistant bartender. The former stormtrooper is one of the most popular people in military circles; everyone was shocked when he decided to work at the bar instead of joining as a soldier, but no one could blame him. And the work definitely suits him. So if he’s not smiling, or chatty, or both, that’s a definite sign that something is wrong with Finn.

“What's up, man?” Poe asks before he takes another swallow of ale.

Finn ignores him and wipes the counter even more aggressively.

Rose reaches out past her own glass and catches him by the wrist. He stops moving and gives her a side eye.

“Come on, man,” she says. “You are the most transparent person and we can tell when there’s something wrong. So you can stand here and make us keep bugging you, or you can just tell us what’s up.”

He pulls his hand away, drops the rag back into the bucket under the bar, and sighs.

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you.”

~10 minutes earlier~

“Ben, stop it, somebody could see.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart, this is the office, no one’s going to walk in on us here. And even if they did, what’s a little kissing between coworkers?” Ben Solo, the owner and main bartender of The Watering Hole, sits lightly against the desk and grins up at Rey, his business manager and sometimes-waitress, her booted feet between his, her hands resting atop of his thighs and his hands on her face. He rubs his thumbs against the apples of her cheeks. “You’re a little flushed, are you hot?”

She grins right back at him. “I don’t know, am I?”

Ben works his jaw, watching Rey’s eyes follow the movement, before he touches the end of his nose against hers and says, “I heard a rumor that the General’s son thinks you are.”

She pulls her head back and raises an eyebrow. “The General’s son? He’s a scoundrel, like his father. I wouldn’t trust his opinion.”

“Oh, okay, I see how it is. Well, I heard another rumor that someone else thinks you’re hot, too.” This earns him another raised eyebrow, and one glance at his mouth. He’ll take it. “Yeah, sweetheart, his name’s Finn, he’s the assistant bartender here. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”

Rey looks delighted. “Oh, I’ve met him and he’s lovely. And I trust his opinion, too.” They’re both happy, excited from the flirting, and she steps closer as he tips her head with his fingers and presses his lips to hers. They move together for a moment and he’s just thinking about her tongue when she pulls back again.

The expression on her face is mischievous. “I heard a rumor, too.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“I heard a rumor that Finn also thinks you’re hot.”

Ben gives her a half-smile. “Oh come on, where did you hear something like that?”

“He told me.” She looks very satisfied.

“He told you? When did he tell you that?”

“Last week, the evening Red Squadron was sent out on that mission to Dantooine. He was sad that so many of his friends were leaving at once, so we had a few drinkies at my place after closing. He got just a little chatty.”

Ben hums and moves his hands from Rey’s face down to her waist and pulls her even closer to him. Her hands grip his thighs a bit more tightly.

“I’m sorry I missed it, that could have been interesting.”

Rey sighs. “I was hoping it would get interesting. I kept thinking he would make a move but he never did.”

“Well maybe we should do something about that. Since we’ve got our thing…”

“Oh, we’ve got a thing have we?”

Ben ignores her interruption and keeps talking. “Our thing, we should bring him in. Make it a thing for three. If he’s interested.”

Rey’s cheeks are even more flushed than they were a minute ago. “Oh, Ben, that is such a good idea. We should do that. Come here and give me a real kiss, now.”

He’s more than happy to comply, and in a few minutes his hands are cupping her ass, hers are in his hair, she’s leaning over, just starting to push him back, and both tongues are fully in play when the door to the office opens and Finn walks in, his eyes on the datapad in his hands.

“Hey guys, I was looking at the inventory and I think we need more bottles…” At this point Finn looks up, and sees the other two, rumpled and flushed, looking at him guiltily. They hadn’t even pulled away from each other; Rey still leaning over Ben, her hands wrapped around his thick, dark, soft-looking hair, his large hands holding her up by her ass.

Finn stutters an apology, does his best to hide his embarrassment, and steps out, pulling the door shut behind him. He hears Rey yell “Finn!” as the door closes, but he’s too upset to go back in. He likes them both and now they’re together and life just really isn’t fair.

So he’ll just tend the bar until he has to face them again.

***

“Wait, wait, wait.” Poe looks confused. “So, you walked in on them kissing.”

“They weren’t just kissing, Poe, they were making out, right on the desk. She was basically on top of him.”

Poe takes a big gulp from his glass, finishing it up, and sets it back solidly on the bar. “I don’t understand, though. That’s what you do, right?” He looks to Rose for confirmation. “Right?”

Rose is nodding. “Yeah, Finn, I don’t see what the big deal is? Don’t, like, all three of you make out?”

“What?? No! Why would you think that?” Finn takes Poe’s empty glass and refills it at the tap.

The two on the other side of the bar exchange a glance. Rose shrugs. “Uh, because you’re together all the time?”

Poe nods. “Yeah, like you work together, but you also live together, and you hang out together…”

Finn sets down the glass in front of Poe hard enough that some of the liquid sloshes over the side and Poe tuts before taking a sip.

“We don’t live together.” Finn says.

Rose rolls her eyes. “You live on the same corridor, close enough. You’re in each other’s rooms all the time.”

“You’re always flirting,” Poe adds.

“Constant flirting. Glances. Touches.”

“Inside jokes.”

Rose laughs around the rim of her glass. “Oh gosh, the inside jokes are the worst.” She imitates a deep voice. “‘That bottle! It belongs to me!’ ‘Come get it.’ Well, I don’t get it even if you guys think that’s hilarious.”

Now Finn’s looking thoughtful. “Are you guys serious? Did you actually think we were dating - all three of us?”

Poe frowns and nods. “Yeah, definitely. It’s, like, the assumption on the base. I think we all just take it for granted.”

Finn’s still having trouble processing this information. “I’m pretty sure you guys are pulling my leg.”

At that moment, Jessika and Tallie come into the bar, with Snap Wexley following closely behind. “Hey, everybody!” Tallie says loudly.

“Hey Tallie!” Poe and Rose and everyone else in the bar shouts at the youngest pilot.

“How’s life treating you?” Asks Finn, pulling glasses of ale for all three of them as they take seats at the bar around Rose and Poe.

“It’s not, but that doesn’t mean you can’t,” Tallie answers with a smirk. Finn winks at her as he sets down her drink.

Poe turns to the man settling on the stool next to him. “Hey Snap, let me ask you something.”

“Sure thing,” Snap replies, nodding at Finn in thanks as he passes the glass across the bar.

Poe points at the bartender. “Who’s Finn dating?”

Snap smiles and nods. “Yeah, he’s dating Rey and Ben, right? The bartending threesome, that’s how I think of them.” He stops short, then nods at Finn. “Hope you don’t mind, that’s just how my brain works.”

Finn has to lean on the bar for support. “So everyone really thinks we’re all dating?”

Tallie and Jessika exchange a confused glance. “You mean you’re not?”

Before Finn can come up with a retort, the door to the office opens and Ben and Rey come out, looking rumpled, pink, and sorry.

The group at the bar calls out to them, and they wave, but stay where they are, instead gesturing to Finn to come towards them. He does so, in a manner he hopes looks casual. Super casual, yup. Very casual.

As he gets closer he can see that Rey’s eyes are a bit red, as though she’s been crying, and without thinking he puts his arms around her and pulls her into a hug. Ben just stands there, watching them.

Rey puts her arms around his waist and clears her throat. “That’s not how we wanted you to find out we were dating, I’m sorry.”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “That’s okay. I’m glad you’re happy with each other, you guys are two of my favorite people and, you know,” he lets her go and takes a step back, “that’s good.”

Ben’s running a hand through his hair and tapping a foot, and won’t look Finn in the eye. “We were actually wondering if you’d, uh, like to have dinner with us. After closing, we could go out somewhere, somewhere nice, we could, uh, talk?”

It’s a nice gesture, but unnecessary, and Finn shakes his head. “That’s kind of you, but you don’t need to explain anything to me. This is cool, it’s cool. I’m cool.” He’s not cool, not at all, but admitting that won’t help so better not to.

But Rey’s giggling, almost laughing, and she puts a hand on his shoulder before running it down his arm and taking his hand.

“We’re asking you on a date, Finn.”

He looks back and forth between them, Rey still looking slightly teary, but smiling, and Ben looking nervous and slightly uncomfortable.

“What?” He’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating.

Ben finally makes eye contact, and his eyes are beautiful, honey-brown and pleading. “We, uh, like you. Both of us, and we’re pretty sure you like us too. So, you know, a date?”

Finn’s nodding, and feels a smile coming on. “Yeah, a date would be good. A date! I would love to go on a date with both of you. Yes. A date!” Then he turns around to the group on the other side of the bar. “Hey guys, I have a date! We’re going on a date!”

The five friends lift their glasses in the air, and raise a cheer to the happy threesome.

#finnreylo #finnreylopositive #first prompt: cheers!#cheers au #cheers sitcom au #canonverse au #post-tfa

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dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt · 5 years

Note

So, I see you write in tags about your OCs. Could you tell us more about them?

YES!!!!!! OH MY GOD THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND-

I’m going to answer for my “main seven”/my favourites atm, AND for Var, Jose, Eva, and Claudia (these 4 are from a different original universe of mine than the “main seven”) bc I’ve been thinking about them a lot, BUT I have 25 OCs in total… it’s just overwhelming to answer for all of them at once. I hope this is okay!! A main masterpost for all my OCs is coming soon in the new year if Tumblr survives that long!!

Joseph is a 25 year old man. He’s got blondish brown hair and blue eyes. He has anger management issues that are a sure fire way to get him into trouble. He is all too loyal and protective of the people he loves and can love very deeply, which can also get him into trouble. He’s reckless, impulsive, but his heart is always in the right place where his loved ones are concerned. He has a daughter, Claudia, by his late wife who he loves more than anything in the whole world. He was raising her alongside his best friend, Var, before the apocalypse hit. He later becomes a part of a poly relationship with Var and Eva.

Varisse is also 25 year old. He’s got close-cropped black hair (and a few grey hairs to show the years he’s spent putting up with Jose’s shit), dark brown eyes and dark skin. He is patient, intelligent, and caring, the ying to Joseph’s yang. He tries to try to see both sides of an issue, almost too much so. He worked as a DJ before the apocalypse and he has a lifelong passion for music… though he can’t sing a straight note to save his life, he’d be the first to tell you that, with a rueful smile. He’s known and been in love with Joseph since kindergarten, and was happy to raise Claudie alongside his best friend.

Eva is a 26 years old woman. She has fair hair, green eyes, and pale skin that burns very easily. She tries her best to be brave and level-headed but is far out of her depth, since she’s used to being a teacher and dealing with a bunch of 6 year olds, not hordes of ravening undead. She can still show spine when pushed to it, though, and is capable of ripping apart arguments and ego with no effort at all. She was Claudia’s teacher before and after the apocalypse and over that time developed a crush on both Varisse and Joseph. After they meet up again amid zombie-filled hardship, that crush developed even more and was quickly requited. She’s out of depth as Claudia’s mother but is learning more each day, and is always a pillar of faith for her boys.

Claudia is Joseph’s 6 year old daughter. She may have her father’s sandy-brown hair but otherwise she’s a spitting image of her mother, with her olive skin and hazel eyes (she’s cranky she didn’t get her dad’s eyes). She’s made up of pure precocious intelligence and sass. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, least of all her dad; Varisse is the only person that can order her around and she’ll listen to no matter what. She has no problem with doing what she’s told… so long as that person asks her respectfully, she thinks it’s a good/fun idea, and they don’t try to boss her around. She has her Dad’s recklessness and will and her mom’s wit and cute face, not a great combination if you’re an authority figure, she’s a master manipulator. She’s very proud of her dads and mom and will loudly support them.

June is a demon. They’re agender, have black hair cut down to their chin, olive skin, black eyes, and an oval-shaped face with a sharper jawline. They’re covered in tiny crucifix-shaped scars all over, one in particular above their left eyebrow. They’re tiny (4′9) but armed with a mouth full of razor-sharp shark teeth, hands tipped in claw-like nails, and a ready willingness to use them. They dislike the features of the modern world and are generally a Grinch about everything. They only like about 2 people in the whole world. They believe complaining to be an art form and practice it - regularly. In a nutshell they’re a bitter, cynical, PTSD-filled, cantankerous ball of apathy and hate. They’re the leader of Hell’s pack of hellhounds. They were in a very abusive relationship with Mars but after a particularly horrific event, they left with Dante’s help. They keep a lessor hellhound with them at all times as a companion; on earth, it takes the shape of a small black pug named Taco. They somehow mix not caring about anything and being very Extra. They sleep in expensive silk pajamas. They’re fond of red wine. They also love fast food - they particularly enjoy it when it runs. :) yes June’s my favourite how can you tell

August is a drama queen angel. They’re genderfluid (they go mostly by gendered pronouns but since their gender isn’t clear or pointed out in most posts I make on Tumblr, I use ‘they/them’ as a catch-all kind of thing.) They’re Asian in appearance but since angels are not natural humans, they have silvery-blonde hair down to their shoulder-blades and their eyes are a bright crystal blue (they hate looking so unusual though so most of the time they use dark contacts and hair dye to blend in with the humans.) They’re tall at 5′11 and they love elegant dresses. They excel at dancing (they’ve mastered all kinds but their favourite is ballet) and swordsmanship. They have AD(H)D but rather than sort it out like a normal person, they deny it and disguise it as them just not caring. They also have anxiety and struggle with overthinking. They’re somewhat (understatement) of an alcoholic due to the constant deaths of their mortal lovers from old age, while they themself remain unchanged. They’re aloof and think of themself as superior, though they’re easily flustered if you try and can actually be quite clingy. They’re very emotional despite their shows of coldness in public.

Myriad is a demon. They’re also genderfluid and they’re indifferent to pronouns. They’re very tall at 6′5, they have very dark skin, and wear their black hair in dreadlocks down to their shoulders. Their eyes change colours like a kaleidoscope, shifting eerily between shades of yellow, grey, blue, and green depending on the lighting and their mood. How they treat you depends entirely on how you treat them and others: if you’re kind, they’ll be fine with you, but if you’re a bad person… well, they are the demon of punishment after all. They do have a soft spot for the small, the sweet, and the helpless and can be quite protective, but mostly they’re entirely self-centred and act on their own whims. They’re quite sexually prolific. They enjoy pranks with malicious glee. They’re very physically intimidating. They have 2 sets of fangs, both potent, one full of a paralytic venom and the other an excruciatingly painful and lethal venom. They also have a harmless pet ball python named Albert and their favourite item of clothing is a soft knitted sweater with kittens on it. :D

Ben is a fallen angel/demon. He identifies as male. He’s medium to smallish height at 5′8. His facial features are quite plain, with a slightly crooked nose and a squarer chin. His eyes are calf-brown and his hair, the most noticeable thing about him, is wavy/loosely curly down past his ears and a bright, dark, unnatural red colour (though it is quite natural for him.) He fell in love with a demon and fell from heaven for her, but it turned out that she was tricking him and left him soon after. His angel grace is out-of-control since he is now technically a demon, and randomly bursts out of him every few months, obliterating everything around him with black fire. Despite how volatile he is, he’s a very quiet person who keeps to himself. He has trust issues and is wary of people, and can be quite timid and easily embarrassed. He works on earth as a primary school teacher, since he loves kids and the demons in hell scorn him and he can’t return to heaven. His fashion sense is absolutely abyssal and he dresses like he’s a 90 year old (technically he’s older even than that but, come on, man, get with the times!) He is very, very depressed.

Ginger is a demon. She identifies as a girl and, unlike the others, who are all pansexual, she is mostly only attracted to girls. She is chubby and has carrot-orange hair (thus, the nickname-that-stuck-and-became-her-name-while-on-earth) and pale turquoise eyes. She doesn’t have a filter and loves very loudly, openly, and strongly. She has a big heart but that can be hard to see since she mostly only thinks of/about herself. She has a great need for speed and her version of heaven is being behind the wheel of a fast car. She has a hard time settling down and is constantly itching for her next adventure and/or challenge. She thinks of Ben as a big brother and constantly annoys him like a little sister; she’s the only demon who accepts him as one of them. For somebody who is so loud, she has a hard time really and truly expressing her feelings when she cares deeply about someone. If she has a crush, she is the stereotypical ‘teenager in love’, stuttering and blushing bright red. She swears a lot, is pretty brash, and - you guessed it - has a strong Australian accent.

Mars is a stink man, evil horrible person, most hated OC an angel. He identifies mostly as male with some exceptions. He has white skin, cherubic blond curls, bright golden eyes, a kind, handsome face, and a charming smile. He’s also an abusive piece of shit . He often dallies with the mortals, luring in lovers with charm and sweetness, and then abusing them in every way possible before eventually killing them. If somebody refuses him, he hunts them down, murders their loved ones in front of them, before raping them and murdering them, too. He’s very possessive and volatile and will throw very dangerous tantrums when denied what he wants. He’s spoiled rotten and has never had consequences for his actions. He wears a ring adorned with a crucifix. He’s got an excellent sense of fashion and is very rich. He’s owned a great number of mansions throughout the years and still does, though he currently lives in a very expensive penthouse.

Dante is a demon - a hellhound, to be exact. He identifies as male, and is the only of the seven to have been born a human before being inducted to hell. He’s not very tall but is bulky due to pure muscle, Vietnamese in appearance, with brown skin and a large scar across his collar bone and shoulder like he’d been savaged by a massive dog at some point (spoiler alert: that’s exactly what happened.) His black hair is cut short military-style. He’s second in command of the pack of hellhounds, under only June, who he sort of took under his wing after they left Mars, built them back up from the years of servitude and abuse. He cares about them more than anyone… That being said, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t call them out if he thinks they’re making a dumb decision. They banter like siblings and he finds great delight in taking his life in his hands and messing up their hair. He’s fiercely loyal but strong willed and will only take orders that he thinks are good ones. A solider born and raised, from human life to demon existence. He loves adrenaline rushes and thinks all fun has to involve danger of some kind. He’s absolutely deadly in a fight, whether it be in his ‘normal’ form with its proficiency with all kinds of weaponry, or his hound form - a mountain of sheer muscle and terrifyingly large jaws. He shows affection in rough ways, such as headlocks and friendly punches, but make no mistake, he really cares. also his ears stick out a bit and he sleeps with his mouth open and hes actually kind of adorable

If you made it this far… thank you so much. Getting questions/messages about my babies honestly keeps me going, so… thank you!!!

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peachywise · 6 years

Text

little games

richie tozier x reader

– Part IV || ⋆ Introduction ⋆ Part I ⋆ Part II ⋆ Part III ⋆ Part IV ⋆ Part V (more to be released)

– Synopsis: It was a harmless prank. At least, Richie thought so. Your reaction wasn’t one he exactly expected. (aged up)

– Notes: hey!! i hope you guys like this latest installment. it’s a bit more angsty than the other ones, but it’s sort of the jumping off point for a deeper plot in the story!! let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!! there’s a slight abuse tw in this, nothing is shown, but hinted.

That bastard was playing some sort of mind game, and you were about to snap. Seriously. It had been an entire week since the super glue incident, and Richie had been dead silent. He hadn’t done a single thing to you other than pass you in the hall and give you a brief glance. Part of you feared maybe you had gone too far in trying to take Eddie away from him, but even then, wasn’t this what you wanted? For him to leave you alone? Maybe you had just gotten so used to the fights and the pranks that now you were just… bored.

Yeah. That had to be it.

Still, you felt constantly ready for some kind of bomb to go off. Even Bill had noticed your increased anxiety, and his worrying over you had gotten just as bad as it had been when you first moved here. That needed to change. You couldn’t deal with it.

So, after school today, you fully intended to walk straight up to Richie and ask him what his deal was. If he was done with this prank war, then fine. You’d accept it, and move on. You just had to know and stop living in fear that he was going to chop your hair off with scissors, or pop into your room while you were sleeping a shove a pie in your face. You were anxious for his answer, though you wouldn’t dare admit it. All history class your fingers had been tapping on your desk, leg bouncing, pen clicking. Stan kept giving you odd looks and even Eddie had asked if you were okay. You just laughed, brushing it off. But your eyes stayed glued to the analog clock on the wall, each passing second ticking slower then the last.

Then, with just one call, it was like everything had stopped all together, and all thoughts of Richie dissipated away, replaced by pure fear. “Y/N?” the teacher said, moving to hang the corded phone back on the wall. “That was the front office. Your mother is here for a meeting, and you’re being called down. Something about a suspension?” Giving you an all too bored look, your teacher promptly returned to the lesson as if nothing of great significance had been said.

But it was significant. Terribly, threateningly significant. Your mother couldn’t be here. You needed to leave before she could get to you. In a state of pure panic, you shot up from your desk and didn’t even bother to collect your notebook before you headed straight for the door, not saying a single word to your friends who called your name, or your teacher as you left. Your breathing became erratic, and your vision started to blur due to the cold haze that settled over your consciousness. You just needed to leave, to get out, get out, get out.

Heading in the opposite direction, away from the office near the main entrance, you ran outside, fully intending to round back to the front to walk home, not even waiting for Bill. No doubt Eddie or Stan would let him know what had happened and where you were supposed to be, and he’d be able to put the pieces together from there. Walking down the front path of the school, still trying to calm yourself down and sneak away without anyone seeing, a sudden hand grabbed your forearm and nearly sent you into cardiac arrest, and the panic you had been trying to suffocate came back in a crashing wave, trying to suffocate you instead.

“Let go!” You screamed, ripping your arm away as the school bell rung in unison. Cowering slightly, you wrapped your arms around yourself. You started to run once more, but a masculine voice you instantly recognized called out your name instead of the scratchy, feminine one you had expected. “Richie, I-I, sorry, I have to go home. Let Bill know I left early?” you stated back with a shaky voice, as you begun to walk away without even giving him a passing glance. If he saw your face, he’d know something was wrong and you weren’t sure you could deal with getting made fun of at the moment.

“What, are you trying to sneak away from your meeting with the principal?” That stopped you. Taking in a sharp inhalation of breath, filling up your lungs to the point it almost hurt, you tried to stand a little straighter. “How do you know about that?” you gritted, as your fingers dug into your crossed arms, painfully trying to distract yourself as students started to exit the building, crowding around, bumping shoulders.

Turning around, you saw Richie pull an innocent face, and immediately your heart dropped. He planned this. “Uh, Y/N, what’s up with the pictures of you plastered everywhere?” A new voice joined in, as Bev casually made her way down the front steps, joining both you and Richie as she passed you a slip of paper.

Glancing down, the photo that Bev handed you was a picture used in your old school year book. Your face was bright, smiling with a mouth full of braces with food obviously caught in them and the tag line ‘looking for a prom date?’ added below. You would have been embarrassed, if it weren’t for the revolting anger that started to seep through your bones. Still refusing to look up at Richie, you quietly asked, “so is my mother here?”

Richie smirked. “What? You’re that afraid of getting suspended?” he questioned playfully, but your voice immediately started to cut him off as you whipped your head up, tears starting to fall down your face “Richie, is my mother here?” you shouted, as if that would finally get through that dumbass’s skull. His face immediately fell from it’s previous impish state, to one of pure confusion.

As he took a step forward, his hand slightly outreached, you took a step back away from him. “No, no, she’s not, I just needed to get you to the main entrance to see the pictures, thought I’d freak you out a bit with a fake suspension warning while I was at it,” he stated with uncertainty as his hand dropped back to his side. “Why are you so upset? I’ve done worse shit,” he added, as Bev moved towards you and gripped your hand in hers, giving you the same confused look as you wiped your tears away. Your mother wasn’t here.

You were safe. You were okay. “Hey, want me to give you a ride home?” Bev asked, as she gave a reassuring squeeze to your hand. You nodded your head, as you began to move towards the parking lot, completely ignoring Richie’s previous inquiry.

Richie stepped forward to stop you again. “Y/N, seriously, what’s going on?” He asked once more, this time a little more freaked out. Taking in a soft breath, you dropped Bev’s hand and turned to face him. “Did you forget I moved here to live with Bill, Richie?” You bit out, finally stepping closer to him as you gave him what looked like the worlds most pathetic threatening stare in your mentally exhausted state. “I don’t live with my mother. Next time you try and prank me, use some fucking common sense and get your facts straight,” you snapped, before turning on your heel and making your way back to Bev and her car.

After Bev had dropped you off, it was only twenty minutes until your cousin Bill had made his way home. He immediately veered into your room, a concerned look washed over his face as he sat on the opposite end from you on your windowsill. “I heard what happened,” he stated. You just nodded your head, unsure of what to say. In Bev’s car, you had finally calmed down enough for the anger to dissipate. She hadn’t pushed you to tell her what happened. In all honestly, you figured she had already guessed why the idea of seeing your mother freaked you out so much. You would tell her eventually, but everything was too raw in that moment, and bottling it up was the only way you knew how to cope. Your mother couldn’t come near you anymore, so it was best just to leave the past in the past. At least, you hoped. “Are y-you okay?” He questioned, as he brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them in the exact same position you were in. You gave a tiny smile. “I’m okay, Bills,” you said. “I just panicked in the moment. She’s not here,” you reassured yourself, more than him. Bill gave you a sad smile. “Want me to talk to R-Richie?” he added, and you fiercely shook your head. That wouldn’t do any good. “He doesn’t know, and he isn’t ever going to know,” you murmured, turning your head back to look out at the perfectly suburban street. “I don’t want him to pity me,” you admitted, as you leaned your head back to rest against the wall. “I like it here, Bills,” you confessed, turning to look back at him. “I like your friends.” He corrected you with a slight smirk, “our friends.”

You laughed, nodding your head. “Our friends,” you reiterated. “Eddie, Ben and Richie are s-s-supposed to come over tonight to watch a m-movie,” Bill said, as you raised an eyebrow. “I can cancel it,” he offered. You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you mumbled, as you played with a loose thread on one of the pillows on the windowsill. “Richie unknowingly went too far with this prank. It’s not his fault, but I still can’t face him. I’ll just stay in my room tonight.” Bill’s forehead slightly creased as his head quirked to the side. “Y-you sure?” he questioned, as you turned your head to the window once more.

“Yeah,” you reassured.

It started to rain.

You ended up falling asleep not long after Bill left your room. Turns out, panic attacks take a lot out of a person. The only reason you had even woken up and not slept a good fourteen hours through the night was because you heard the boys start walking through the door. What a loud bunch.

Getting up with a small yawn, you moved over to your desk and quickly scrawled out a note on a piece of paper. You had an inking Richie would try and come talk to you, and you wanted to make it known you weren’t particularly in the mood. Moving to open up the door a crack, you quickly taped up your impromptu sign that read “Beep the beep off, Richie” (your aunt didn’t care all that much for your swearing), and turned to walk back inside. Before you could, however, an unsure voice called from down the hall, “hey, Y/N?”

Turning around to look, your eyes simply brushed over the messy haired boy, in his too big glasses and obscenely patterned shirt. ‘ You flipped him the bird before shutting your door.

After two and a half hours had passed, and you had made a sizeable dent in an essay that wasn’t due for another couple of days, you figured it was safe enough to leave your room. You’d heard the door close once or twice, and assumed the boys had already watched the movie and left.

You were a little embarrassed that you hid out for so long, but even seeing Richie in the hallway had panicked you a little bit. The thought of him knowing what had happened stressed you out, and you were still irrationally upset at his prank. Realistically, you knew you couldn’t blame him.

It still sucked, though.

Getting off your chair and stretching your arms out, you moved out of your room, intent on getting a small snack before you went to bed. As you were about to enter the kitchen, however, the sound of a frustrated voice stopped you.

Hiding behind the wall, you unashamedly began to ease drop.

“You n-need to leave Y/N alone, R-r-richie,” Bill stuttered, and you could almost hear how clenched his jaw must have been. Didn’t you tell him not to say anything? He shouldn’t be stepping in where he doesn’t belong. You hated when he hovered, and if he was going to continue to do this you were–

“Did they say something?” Richie inquired, pointedly annoyed. “Not directly, but–” Bill started to argue. Richie cut him off. “Then stay out of it. Bill, Y/N is a lot stronger than you think,” he started, his tone raised just slightly. “Christ, if they can keep up with the fucking shit I put them through before this, do you really think they can’t get past whatever happened today? I realized I stepped on a nerve. I won’t ask, and I don’t expect you to tell me anything, but I get it, alright?” Well, shit. Did you just start respecting bug eyes a little bit? “If they want me to leave them alone, they would tell me that, you don’t need to protect them so much,” he finished just as you stepped around the corner.

Bills eyes immediately widened as he caught sight of you.

Walking towards the fridge, you opened it and pulled out a carton of milk, before moving over to pour a bit of it into a cup. Both boys were silent, watching you, clearly unsure if you had heard exactly what had gone down.

Turning back to walk out, you clapped Bill on the shoulder as you passed and said, “don’t worry, you can protect Richie instead for what’s coming to him on Monday.”

You heard Richie muttered a soft, “fucking shit,” under his breath as you turned the corner.

– tags: @breaking-biles @ubertrashmouth @strangerthing-havehappend @wolfhard-tozier @sin3at3r @eighties-hoe @multi-parker @nicht-so-schnell @stan-the-losers-club-man @bailey-the-wise @firebreathingslytherinqueen @fearless2beme @winnsmills @of-outerspace @st353days @this-cute-shit-xo @hummingstan @babylovereddie @derrysdenbrough @socially-awkward-nerd @emmaamalie @catching-fire-in-the-wind @mikoalabear @thiccboychic @beepbeeprichtozier

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drosophilase · 6 years

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fic: Yoda, Yuletide, and You

Title: Yoda, Yuletide, and You

Author: @drosophilase

Gifted to: @djchika as part of the @crisscolfergiftexchange 2017

Original prompt: “We made the mutual decision to go to this party separately and when I arrived there was this asshole flirting with you and I’m trying not to make it obvious that I’m seething with jealousy but it’s really difficult”

Ratings/Warning: Teen; allusions to sex (non-explicit), boss/employee relationship

Read on AO3!

Sorry this is two days late, thank you for the gracious extension and Merry Christmas Deej! Thank you so much for all you did to arrange this exchange <3

It had started, as most great love stories do, with a Yoda figurine on the corner of Chris's desk. "That green figurine, I like," croaked a terrible Yoda impersonation from the twenty-fifth (ok, just fifth) person Chris had interviewed that day. Darren Criss, his application said.

Chris raised an eyebrow. Giving interviews for a job at a nerd pop culture online news source, Chris thought he had heard it all. This guy is the first to be bold enough to do such a confident and terrible impersonation. Chris touches Yoda's pointy ear. "From my sister. She's determined to get me the entire Star Wars Funko Pop set over the next 20 Christmases and birthdays." He doesn't comment aloud on the terrible Yoda voice, but he does write a little Y in the corner of Darren's resume.

"That's so cool, man, it's awesome that your family knows what you love. I have a ton of Pops but I can't ever seem to finish a set. There's just too many other things I like. I just put my Chewie next to my Harley Quinn and go with it." There's a sort of sparkle in his eye, glowing gold in the sunlight filtering through Chris's office blinds.

Chris sets the resume aside (he'd already noted this one for the qualifications - degree in Theatre from Michigan University, four years on the Michigan Daily staff with one as senior editor. Proficiency in Final Cut and a few credits in web series and local theatre productions. Currently working in local news media and writing a blog on the Star Wars Extended Universe on the side. Even before he walked in looking like a dream, Chris was hooked). "Suicide Squad Harley or Batman: The Animated Series Harley?"

Darren scoffs, the black curls over his forehead bouncing. "Animated Series, dude. Hands fucking down. I try to forget that Suicide Squad ever existed. It's hard to be a DC boy these days."

Chris cracks a smile. "That's why the girls - well, Patty Jenkins, really - are going to save us all. Haven't you seen Wonder Woman?"

"If I've learned one thing in my time in this industry, no one ever listens to women when they should. You're right though, if they let Patty work she's going to do the whole damn thing."

"If only Ben Affleck could do his civic duty and disappear from the earth, I'd feel better about it."

Darren laughs with his whole body, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Dude, yes. Just go softly into that dark night."

Chris cocks his head. "You didn't just make that pun, oh my god."

Darren smiles. "You didn't notice 'witty wordplay' under my skills? It's like in my top 3 best attributes."

Chris wishes he had the power to cancel the rest of his day's appointments and just end the day with Darren's interview. Instead, he takes the scant three minutes he has until the next interview to smile absently back at Yoda and make another note on the resume.

1. Wordplay

2. Smile

3. -Ass- Experience

The great thing about PopNow's building is the super cool collaborative open floor plan with lots of coworking tables, glass doors, and zero fucking privacy. Chris had always cringed sitting at the long tables, having to work face-to-face with someone else's computers and get distracted every time they got up to go to the bathroom. Honestly, half his drive to move up to staff editor was to get one of the more private (loosely) offices around the edges of the room with a single desk and a wall to stare at instead of a strange coworker.

Being promoted to division head of PopNow Nerd was Chris's ultimate dream (private office, final say on all published material, sitting in on meetings with creative directors and sometimes, investors. The control freak inside of Chris was fucking delighted). That is, until 3 months later when PopNow shifted their entire focus and all their resources to video reporting. Luckily, they weren't completely cutting out the website or articles that Chris joined the company to write. And, Chris was getting a lot more flexibility to hire new talent and explore new realms of reporting. And thank fucking god, Chris never had to be in front of the camera.

He knew he had to change with the times quick, though. He had writers - he just needed producers. And, after a quick poll of the office didn't yield many nerds willing to get in front of a camera (who would’ve thought), some on-air personalities.

Enter: Darren Criss.

The first day Darren’s new hosted series “Heroes and Zeroes” went live with an episode rating Disney villains on some complicated ranking system based on hotness, degree of evil, and personal style, the PopNow Nerd Facebook page gained like 5,000 followers. Darren’s video instantly became their most watched.

And the comments, well—Chris’s cheeks reddened just thinking about them. A bashful Darren appeared at Chris’s door two hours after the video went live, one hand buried in the shorter hair at the base of his neck. “So… I think people like it?”

Chris raised his eyebrows, looking over his glasses where he had the comments section open on his own computer. Girls and guys alike were tagging their friends just to point out how hot Darren is. With him there draped casually in his door frame, Chris would have to agree. “I would say yes, they do.”

Darren laughs an embarrassed sort of huff, looks down at his feet. Chris can tell that though he might be humbled by the success of the video, Darren is definitely feeling proud of himself.

“Actually,” Chris continued, “maybe you should reply to a few of them. Start building some rapport with the fans. Couldn’t hurt, and the higher-ups really want to see viewer engagement.”

The next day the Facebook page following had grown again by the thousands. Suspicious, Chris scrolled to Darren’s video again. The views just kept going up. And Darren himself was in the comments section, cheekily replying to a few of them.

Brittany Smith Oh my god, @Ashley did you watch this? I don’t even know what he said, I just keep staring at his hands for some reason

Darren Criss Next time pay attention to my face, we pay the makeup department a lot to cover up my lizard skin! ;)

Chris had one hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Darren was fucking funny. As if Chris didn’t have enough problems drooling over him already in production meetings, writing pitches, and the million times a day he stops by Chris’s office with just “one quick question.”

Chris glanced out his glass office doors to Darren’s desk (the one he has a perfect view of if he just pretends to work at his computer but instead looks right past his monitor out to the main office, no Chris didn’t put him there on purpose the desk was just open). And Darren’s comically large hot pink headphones, and Darren’s brow furrowed as he works hard at something on his computer, and Darren himself chewing on his lip and tugging on a curl and oh, god—

Chris has got it so bad.

“Fuck,” Chris says quietly, taking off his glasses to rub his tired eyes. He should have known better.

The crush stays mostly on lock down for almost two weeks. Chris is like, acutely aware every time Darren walks near his office door (inconvenient, since he has to walk that way for the bathroom, the breakroom, and pretty much everything else) and he gets flustered during staff meetings when Darren starts smiling at him.

And then, of fucking course, there’s Lea.

“Who is this Darren again? You’ve said his name like ten times in the last five minutes.”

Chris swallows hard and tries to keep his tone casual. “Just one of the on-air personalities we hired. He’s a good writer too, when we can keep him focused. The best idea man we have, after me of course. He’s been working here for like three months. I swear I told you about him. Curly black hair, stupidly big brown eyes?”

Lea gasps. “Christopher Fucking Colfer. Do you have a crush?”

Chris instantly feels his face burning. “You know Karyn Colfer would never give me such an unsightly middle name. Jesus, Lea, I don’t know… He’s just a great guy. We get along well. He’s my employee, for fuck’s sake.”

Lea scoffs. “That’s the highest praise I’ve heard you give another human in the entire time I’ve known you. You definitely like him.”

She’s always so infuriatingly good at pointing out the one thing Chris is trying to pretend doesn’t exist. “Yeah I… guess I do.”

She hums, sympathetic. “It’s been a long time since you’ve embraced another human being, Christopher. Maybe try leaning in this time instead of running away. It might do you some good.”

Eager to not hear yet another long-spun tail about her and her fiancé’s meet-cute, recent cohabitation, or extensive wedding planning, Chris says quickly, “Okay, yeah. Lean in. I’ll try that.”

“Just talk to him! You’re very charming, in your own way. He willingly works at PopNow Nerd, for Christ’s sake, just talk about your elaborate Halloween costume for next week, he’ll love that.”

Chris can’t argue with that.

“Lean in,” Chris murmurs to himself as he sees Darren get up for his second coffee and first trip to Chris’s desk right around the usual time, 9:20.

“Hey Chris,” Darren says, rapping on the open glass door twice. Chris looks up from pretending he’s engrossed in end-of-year reports and not sweating into his hoodie. “Quick question, to settle a debate: Richard Harris or Michael Gambon as Dumbledore? Must cite sources.”

Chris smiles. “Michael Gambon, without a doubt. I loved the look of Richard Harris, don’t get me wrong, but Order of the Phoenix Dumbledore, tracking down horcruxes Dumbledore, was not frail. Richard Harris could have never pulled off standing up to the Ministry and escaping with Fawkes, no way.”

Darren cocked his head. “So not what I would have thought you would say. And honestly, you’ve almost sold me on Gambon. I’m one of those who can’t overlook the didjupuyurnameinthegobletofire debacle but you have excellent points. Always surprising me, Chris.”

Was that… flirting? It was so hard to tell because Darren was so easily entrancing like this just all the time, but something about the way he said Chris’s name made him think it was different.

Darren had already half-turned to go but Chris calls him back, saying his name. Darren turns around, eyebrows quirked. This was deviating from their normal routine, Chris knew. He tries to calm his pounding heart. Lean in.

“You know, the real casting tragedy in the Potter series was how old James and Lilly were. Like, alright yes, the ‘mother’s eyes’ thing was absolutely shot to hell. But how are they going to tell us James and Lilly died at literally 21 years old and cast middle-aged actors?”

Darren smiles. “Dude, yes. They fucked up the ages of everyone in the Order of the Phoenix except for like, Tonks. And maybe they got away with Lupin since he would be more weathered. But casting mid-50s actors for characters barely pushing 35? It totally takes away the resonance of these young people fighting for the future of the world.”

He sits in one of the chairs Chris has arranged along the side of the wall (PopNow has a thing about the formality of sitting with a desk between them) and Chris should move to go sit next to him but it feels like this new thing is a bubble that he might burst at any second if he moved the wrong way.

Darren leaves twenty minutes later to go back to his desk, his empty coffee-stained Vader mug forgotten on the floor.

Chris smiles as he catches Darren eye through the glass. He’ll be back in an hour or two.

By the time mid-November rolls around, it seems that Chris and Darren’s quick coffee run questions have turned into thrice-daily chats have turned into… something. It’s started to become a running joke at staff meetings, that Chris and Darren are usually more ChrisandDarren these days. Chris ran into Darren once at his favorite lunch Chinese spot, and then he suggested another lunch spot for tacos and Darren suggested they go together, and now lunch is just always assumed to be theirs. Even when Chris had to work three days straight through lunch to meet the deadline on proposals for the next quarter, Darren showed up every day with cashew chicken, disappearing when Chris was stressed or offering alien conspiracy theories when Chris needed a break.

That was the thing about Darren, he was always just there. As soon as Chris opened the figurative door by starting a conversation, Darren blew the whole fucking thing open and made himself at home. It was hard to remember work before Darren.

It doesn’t dawn on Chris that they really haven’t seen each other outside of work until he overhears a few other producers and writers making plans to get drinks after work the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Chris doesn’t think anything of it—he never wanted to get drinks with anyone in the office before, and he figured no one wanted to drink with their boss anyway.

So he’s pretty floored when he clearly hears Darren (speaking in his still-loud “low voice”) ask Denise if Chris is invited.

Chris doesn’t even try to hear the answer (it’s no, Chris knows) as he reels. He can see Darren outside of work. Darren maybe wants to see Chris outside of work. Chris would have a reason to go somewhere other than home to his cat. He had never thought of it before but now Chris really, really wanted to be invited out to drinks. By Darren, that is.

Darren stops by his office (fifth time that day) with his coat over his arm and bag slung over his shoulder on his way out. “Happy Thanksgiving, Chris.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, he automatically replies. “Headed down to Republic with Denise and Lars and everyone?” Chris says it just to see how Darren will react.

Darren winces and looks sheepish. “You heard about that, huh? Yeah it seems like it’s just a writers’ thing, sorry about that, I didn’t decide that it would be exclusive.”

“No, yeah, it’s totally okay,” Chris says, waving his hand. “I wouldn’t want to like, intrude on the group anyways. Frankly, there’s few people in this office I’d want to see outside of these stupid glass walls.”

Darren pouts, put-upon. “I hope I made your short list.”

Chris knows his ears are red-tipped but he swallows and forces himself to say, “Duh. You’re like, the whole list.”

Something comes over Darren’s face. He’s more beautiful than Chris has ever seen. “Yeah? You’re at the top of mine. Maybe after the holiday we can compare lists. Have a good Thanksgiving, Chris.”

“Y-yeah, you too,” Chris manages to say, half-strangled, awkwardly waving as Darren turns and leaves.

Holy shit, Darren may have just asked him on a date.

There are three things Chris learns on the Friday a week after Thanksgiving weekend.

It is most definitely a date, Darren’s preferred drink is a whiskey sour, and he is the best kisser Chris has ever known.

“I thought maybe you only wanted to hear more on my nuanced analysis of Star Trek captains,” Chris teases after they break apart just inside his front door.

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I love your analysis,” Darren says breathily from where he’s kissing Chris’s jaw. “It’s just that I also love the way your arms look in your tee shirts and your butt looks in your jeans and that your lips are so damn kissable.”

Chris thrills as Darren stretches up to kiss him again, basically on his tiptoes. How is someone who appreciates all those things even real? Chris runs his hands along Darren’s shoulders, grips his elbows, squeezes his waist. Darren slips his tongue into Chris’s mouth and Chris reflexively grabs Darren’s perfect ass. Oh, he’s real all right.

“That’s awfully fresh, Mr. Colfer,” Darren says breathily even as he pulls Chris in, walking backwards. “Don’t you think that’s better suited for the bedroom?”

Later, Chris’s best shirt is maybe ruined and Darren is sleepy and soft and come-dumb, draped across Chris’s chest (he’s a cuddler, as Chris should have guessed).

“Give me five minutes and I’ll get up I promise,” Darren mostly mumbles as he rubs his face into Chris’s belly.

“Mmhmm,” Chris replies skeptically, sinking a hand into Darren’s curls and tracing his thumb over the sweat gathered at his temples. “I really don’t mind.”

Darren groans, low and long. “I have like, a thing about my hair being played with, dude. Once you start I’m always going to beg you to keep going.”

Chris smiles wickedly, pulling his fingers slowly through the soft strands and listening to Darren’s responses. “I could be okay with that.”

Chris thinks they’re totally rocking the first day back at work giving off very “we definitely didn’t have sex last night, no way, thanks for asking” vibes. Until a very concerned Eileen stops by his office after their afternoon meeting.

“This is definitely not my business Chris, but you know I care deeply about the balance of the workplace ecosystem, so I’m going to meddle just this once. Are you and Darren—”

Chris immediately opens his mouth, panicked, “Oh uh, no, I—”

“—Mad at each other?”

Chris stops mid-sentence. “Wait, what?”

Eileen is unfazed, as usual. “You definitely snubbed him during that planning meeting and he’s only stopped by your office once today instead of the usual six. I count on you two to keep meetings fun and productive. He makes you less cranky. I don’t know what you did, but fix it.”

She leaves before Chris can put words together. Well, that wasn’t what he expected.

Eileen apparently thinks we’re fighting.

Maybe we went too hard in the other direction.

O M G. She’s so nosy. Our coworkers are way too perceptive.

There’s only one way I want you hard. This ain’t it

Fuck. Why are my office walls made of glass?

That’s hot, Colfer. Feed your cat and come by my place tonight.

…Was that a euphemism?

Pre-Darren, holiday parties at the office were to be endured and survived. Chris would show up for the shortest time he could, drink two vodka sodas, talk to ten people, and get the fuck out. Now in the Age of Darren, Chris is actually brushing his hair and putting thought into his outfit and humming Christmas carols on the train.

Almost one month into their relationship feels way too new to tell all of PopNow, let alone just their department. (Chris had gone to HR with the intent to file their relationship but his hypothetical questions were met with vehemence that superiors could not date subordinates. So Chris had slunk out of there and didn’t mention it to Darren in case ignoring it meant it wouldn’t exist.) They’re arriving to the company holiday party separately and meeting oh-so-casually by the Christmas tree, avoiding all mistletoe and any game that might lead to awkward kissing with anyone. They are totally (almost) masters of acting totally normal at work, they can handle this.

What Chris can’t handle is the blonde with godawful dark roots and nose ring practically pushing her breasts into Darren’s face. At 20 freaking degrees outside there’s no need to wear a sweater that low-cut. Darren, Chris begrudgingly credits, is looking unwaveringly at her face. But this girl is hardcore flirting, hip cocked and chewing on the stirrer in her pink drink.

Chris knows he’s being ridiculous but at the same time, he can’t stop. She touches his shoulder for a second and Chris downs a shot. She laughs way too loudly and Chris crushes a cookie into crumbs. He tunes out the droning anecdote from some guy in accounting and instead vividly daydreams, replaying in his mind the past weekend spending a full 48 hours locked in Chris’s apartment.

Chris was so wrong to think that he could keep it together for this entire party. Darren is just so damn charming and every single person who works at PopNow is gravitating towards him. Chris understands the feeling, but the possessive jealous lizard brain just wants to take.

He spots an opening as Darren is trying to physically move away from a man who is whispering in Darren’s ear every other sentence. Hell no.

Chris steps between them deftly, delighting at the way Darren’s face absolutely lights up. “Chris, hi. Thank god.”

“So sorry to steal him away, but Darren there’s someone I want you to meet,” Chris apologizes to the guy in a rush, grabbing Darren by the elbow and leading him away.

“Thank god,” Darren says again from behind him as Chris weaves through the crowds. “That guy was like a level 5 creeper. I’ve been looking for you for half an hour and just couldn’t disentangle myself from these people who all want to talk about my videos. Which is flattering, I guess? But they’re like, strangers. I’m just trying to get buzzed and play that piano in the corner and start a Christmas carol sing-along. Wait, this is the bathroom…”

“Yes, it is,” Chris says, leading Darren into the single room family bathroom and following quickly, locking the door.

He presses Darren against the door and kisses him hard, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. “That was torture,” Chris whispers, tugging on Darren’s earlobe with his teeth.

“Colfer, were you j-jealous?” Darren chokes out, head lolling back as Chris moves down to kiss his neck. He wants to leave a visible mark. He settles for one right below Darren’s collar, right in the hollow of his shoulder. Darren moans, cradling Chris’s head. “Fuck.”

“Maybe I was,” Chris admits, pulling back and pushing stray hairs off his forehead. “That one girl was just so blatant, it was awful. And I couldn’t do or say anything! Maybe I should ask for a department transfer. Or find another job, I…”

Darren is wide-eyed. “Are you trying to abandon me?”

Chris shakes his head. “God, no, it’s just some ban on superiors dating their employees, I didn’t want to tell you before….”

“What about superiors dating their equals? Would that be okay?” Darren asks, a mischievous smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“Uh yeah, I think so,” Chris says, confused. “I don’t see why not?”

“Good,” Darren says, full-out grinning now. “Because Rebecca called me into her office today. Honestly I thought I had to be getting reprimanded or something, but she promoted me. Well it’s not totally official yet, but next week they’re creating new Video Editor-in-Chief positions in some departments. Equal with the department head. A new team-leading thing to further focus on video content. And the job in Nerd is mine. She said she heard I work great with my department head and I had to agree.”

Chris reels. “Holy shit. I knew Rebecca had asked me about you, but I didn’t know why. Holy shit! Darren, that is amazing. You are amazing. I am so proud of you.”

Darren’s eyes practically disappear, he’s smiling so hard. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you. I guess we don’t have to hide in this bathroom anymore…?” Even as he says it, Darren rubs a hand right over Chris’s crotch. Chris sucks in a loud breath.

“We don’t have to, but maybe we should for this part.”

Three whiskey sours in and with no prodding, Darren hops behind the piano and leads a rousing chorus of the promised Christmas carols, Broadway songs, and Disney hits. Four vodka sodas in and Chris is pulled into a clumsy duet of Baby It’s Cold Outside after he makes everyone in the area hold both hands up so he knows no one is recording. There’s no way this won’t end up in the Monday morning email thread, but tipsy, warm and fuzzy Chris is okay with that.

It’s the best company holiday party he’s ever been to. Which on the surface makes no sense—it’s in the same venue, with the same cheesy decorations, the same too-strong drinks and the same terrible ornament exchange. But this year, the Christmas tree seems taller and fuller and more beautiful than ever. And this year, the bartender is wearing a Santa hat and smiling and singing along. And even though an ornament exchange game with no stealing or trading allowed is a totally lame game, Chris somehow gets a Yoda ornament. He gasps, looking up at Darren, who is just across from him. Darren has that shit-eating grin, toasting his glass to Chris as he takes another sip. He remembered.

And then Chris realizes that it wasn’t the party that had changed, it was him. And it was Darren. Because of Darren. Even the most dreaded event of the year has Chris laughing, smiling, relaxing, even feeling the joy of the Christmas spirit.

He blames Darren and his magic that when someone comes up to them shrieking mistletoe! and dangling a bunch over their heads, Chris doesn’t laugh it off. He looks at Darren, closer than the careful distance they’ve been keeping all night, and is hit with the full force of his sparkling brown eyes. You’re beautiful, Chris thinks, and grabs Darren’s lapel before he can think too hard.

Darren is dazed when they pull apart, the mistletoe bearer long-gone. “Merry Christmas,” Chris says so fondly, brushing his thumb over the spot hidden under Darren’s shirt.

“Merry Christmas,” Darren says, taking Chris’s hand and holding it tight, laced with his.

#djchika #crisscolfer #crisscolfer fic #crisscolfergiftexchange #cc gift exchange 2017 #bee writes fic #NOW i can go read all the rest of the fic yessssss

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benbarnesescape · 7 years

Text

Dive - Part 4

Warnings: 18+, Language

A/N: Remember this little gem? I should be packing but I’m choosing stories over responsibility this morning :) It also explains why this is a little short - I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you soon.

The incessant knocking on your front door was what stirred you awake from your spot on the couch. The blue glare from your television, which was now cycling through the movies DVD main title softly blasting back at you as you fumbled for your phone. You looked at the screen, groaning when you noticed the time which was followed by another obnoxious knock . You groaned, willing yourself off of the comfort of your couch cushions to shuffle to the door.

Who the hell was knocking for you at one in the morning?

You glanced through your peephole and despite how tired and annoyed you were, you couldn’t help but smile at the man on the other side.

You unlocked your deadbolt, removing the second lock as you opened up your door. A cool autumn breeze had picked up from the Pacific Ocean as it wafted toward your loft and you shook your head at the very tipsy Charles that was resting against his friend Anthony, obviously drunk.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” you ask him as a tipsy Charles lumbers toward you.

“I missed you honey. So much.” he mumbles into your hair, his large arms wrapping around you. You giggle as you look toward Anthony who is shaking his head, muttering,

“He got piss drunk at this foosball tournament we decided to go to.”

You look at him skeptically before you start laughing.

“Foosball tournament? You and him still go to those?”

He shrugs, an embarrassed smile gracing his face.

“Listen, i can’t help that we are really immature and you love us.” he chuckles and Charles turns toward you, placing his finger on his lips.

“Shhhhh Anthony. Don’t tell her how I lost.”

You both roll your eyes as you move around Charles, shifting his weight on your shoulder.

“Thanks Anthony. I got it from here. Years of college late nights has me trained to deal with this.”

Anthony nods, giving you one last smile before grabbing the doorknob and starting to close the door. He stops, peeking his head through before sighing,

“You know Charles, he’s confused about a lot of things but not about how he feels about you”

You remember looking at Anthony, giving him a confused nod before saying.

“Thanks Anthony. Is there something I’m missing here?”

Anthony shakes his head, giving you a sad smile.

“No, no, no. Forget I said anything.” he mumbles, before shutting the door. You’re left with Charles, who was pulling himself far away to look down at you. His dark hair fell in front of his face and he mutters,

“Why don’t we live together?”

You smile as you wrap your arm around his torso, beginning to navigate him to your bedroom.

“Because once upon a time we thought it would be better to have distance in our relationship.”

He guffaws before saying,

“Yea, in college!”

You shrug as you reach your bedroom, opening the door and aimlessly searching for your light. When you flick it on he groans and you chuckle.

“Yea well, we both respect our privacy right. You spend a decent amount of time over here like I do at your place”

He pouts as you make it to his bed and he sits down, placing his head in his hands.

“My face hurts. And the room is spinning.”

Oh boy.

“Charles, how much did you drink tonight?”

He looks up at you, his face sad as he whines, “I don’t know.”

You laugh, turning on your heel and walking toward the kitchen.

“Babe! Come back. Please don’t leave me.”

You shake your head as you grab a glass, grabbing your Brita and pouring a glass of water. You also grab a coconut water, knowing he’s going to complain about it but also knowing that it’ll make him feel better. Then you dig through a cabinet, grabbing two Advil before returning back to your room. Charles hasn’t moved and you kneel down in front of him, placing the two objects in front of him.

“Drink.”

He nods, taking a sip of water as he throws back the two pills.

“Drink it all.” you say, your maternal voice causing him to groan as you open up the can of coconut water.

“Good.” you say as he finishes the large glass of water.

“Now chug this.”

He looks at you, then at the coconut water and pouts, shaking his head incessantly.

“I don’t want to.” he mutters and your roll your eyes, falling back on your butt as you cross your legs, holding the can up to him still.

“Drink it or I’m going back to bed on my couch and leaving you to your own devices.”

He groans as he grabs the can, knowing that you were just as stubborn as him, and begins to drink the bitter water. His face twists in displeasure as you stand, walking past him to the bathroom, getting ready for bed. By the time you're done, he’s finished with his water and you walk back to him, grabbing the empty tin can and placing it on your dresser.

“How do you feel?” you ask and he gives you a loopy smile as you walk between his legs, pulling at the end of his T-Shirt.

“Better now you’re here.” his hands crawl around you, biting into your ass as he draws you closer, his chin resting on your navel.

You yelp in surprise before laughing, shaking your head.

“You’re not getting lucky tonight. You can’t even keep your eyes open!”

He chuckles at he nips at your stomach and you giggle as you manage to start to pull up his shirt.

“Charles, you’re going to sleep. You’re so drunk I don’t even think you’d be able to handle me.”

He mutters something into your skin, his mouth never ending its assault before you push his strong torso back, shaking your head and he grins back at you.

“Saucy now are we?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the glint of mischief as you trail your hand down from his upper torso down his chest, stopping short above his belt. He moans as he falls back into your bed cushion as you unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping the coarse material. You were tired and all you wanted to do was get him undressed for bed, but it's when you pull down his pants, his erection also springing free of his boxers, that your mouth waters.

Charles had been working a lot of long hours these past couple of weeks, paired with the long hours you’ve put into your event planning business. Together you barely saw the other and when you did it was to instantly pass out in each other's arms.

You missed him.

Which was why you couldn’t resist your hands to graze back up his legs, your movement intentional as it teased up the band of his briefs.

“Miss me baby?” you ask and he groans, lifting himself on his elbows as he watches you under hooded drunk eyes.

“I miss you all the time honey.”

“Hmm,” you mutter as your fingers hook under his band, pulling at the flexible material to pull down his briefs. You bite your lip as you sit on your knees, watching him as you pull down his briefs to his ankles, before looking at his erection.

You loved every part of him.

“Want me to take care of this baby?” you ask and he nods incessantly as your right hand moves up the hard muscles and he moans as your tongue follows.

‘God damn’ he whispers as you reach his head, before taking him into your mouth. He moans, his hands finding its way in your hair as you begin to move up and down his length, taking him in slowly.

“Oh baby, you’re so good to me.” he whispers, his hands tightening in your hair. “Amelia”

You freeze. You’re name was not Amelia. You pull out of him before looking up at him, hoping desperately that you heard wrong.

“What did you just call me?”

He’s looked down at you upon your ceased actions and shakes his head. It takes a few more minutes before it clicks in his head.

“I called you Y/N” he stutters and you shake your head, getting up.

“No you didn’t. Who’s Amelia?”

He flinches hearing the name and you know you’ve heard right.

“Are you fucking cheating on me Charles?”

“No!” he says and you shake your head, pacing back and forth. Trying to stay in control of your emotions but you know it's too late. You’re too upset.

“Then who the hell is Amelia!” you scream and he sits up, shaking his head.

“She’s no one Y/N…” his voice is cracked, desperate because he knows the damage has been done.

“Obviously not if you’re sighing out her name when I have my mouth around your cock!” You turn to him, running your hands through your hair.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch and we can talk about this in the morning. When you’re sober.” You head to the door before turning to him.

“If you follow me I swear I’ll cut off your dick.”

Ben watches you carefully as your eyes stay trained on the LA skyline, the beer now warm in your hands. For a second, he had been lost in your re-telling of the story of you and Charles, how you and him and had fallen in love as kids and had kept your romance somewhat alive throughout the years. He had forgotten that he also had a part in this tale and was silently almost rooting for you until you paused at this part.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” he whispers and you turn to him for the first time, shaking his head.

“I do Ben. I pulled you into this shit that is my life and you deserve to hear all the pieces to it.

He nods as you take another long sip before sighing.

“I walked into the living room crying. I was so upset. I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to stay. So I did some research. You know, in college Charles and I took a break. We allowed ourselves to date other people because I thought we respected each other enough not to cheat on the other.

Guess I was wrong.

I did what everyone does when they suspect their significant other is cheating on them. I went on his social media. Charles was pretty decent at updating his Instagram at least with photos - he was a decent photographer. Most of them were photos of me and him, places we visited, hanging out with his bro’s. Its when I searched through photos he was tagged in that I found her.

You tried to fight back the bile that was rising in your mouth as you said the next part.

There was a picture of him, Anthony, Chris - another good friend of yours - and this woman. Amelia. She was pretty, looked exotic. Like she was east European and was a former model or whatever. Turns out she worked at the law firm. And she loved Charles.

There were pictures of them hanging out at games, company events. They were always with other people. But he had never told me about her. It was odd because she seemed like a close friend but he never told me about her.he told me all the time about women he got hit on by but not her.

I didn’t sleep that night. I doubt he did either. When he finally did emerge from my bedroom, I was sitting in my reading knock, my face probably a stained disaster as I looked at him. I threw my phone at him, with the photos of her and him that she had plastered on her social media and had him explain it to me.

He did. Finally. Said that at first she was just a work friend. Didn’t think anything of it. But Charles and I had been having problems. I was ready to move on in our relationship and he wanted to wait. Didn’t want to move in together, that would be too big a step. Felt like I was pressuring him so he confided in her.

She slowly started to replace me.

It wasn’t until she kissed him one drunken night that he knew he had to distance himself. He was confused. Didn’t know what to make of it.

It was an innocent mistake but Charles always did this. Always ran away when things got too serious in our relationship. Always made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. That I was old goods that could be replaced. So I told him we needed to break up. Perhaps we had been lying to ourselves.

He begged me not to but my mind was set. I was over it.”

You turn to Ben who was watching you with curious eyes.

“Technically, I wasn’t with him when I got with you. Technically, we were broken up for three months when my friend dragged me to that concert. Technically I was free and I wanted to be free with you. That’s how it started Ben. Not based on lies. Based on the idea of wanting to be free. I didn’t think that I would fall for you or that you’d care for me. I wanted to be free of men for a while, wanted to regain my independence. But I liked you. You were easy to be around you.”

You bite your lip as you look back at the skyline.

“My dad threatened me two months into our casual dating about getting back with Charles. Said that he had explained everything to him and that I was being immature - my father didn’t care if we loved each other or not though he knew Charles did. Wanted to make sure his legacy would remain and because I refused to pursuit my master in law, this was the compromise. If I had known, I would’ve just become a public defender to really piss him off and be free of hte whole lot of them.”

You place your beer on the table and turn toward Ben who is watching you dangerously.

“I tried to tell you. Do you remember driving up to San Francisco. We were going to meet your brother and we had gone out dancing and stayed up all night drinking and eating and being obnoxious tourists. You had pulled us away from the group and taking me down to the ocean to watch the sunrise.”

Ben remembered. He couldn’t ever forget. You were wearing a blue sundress and it lapped around your knees as you both sat on the bench, his arms wrapped around you as his head rested on top of yours.

“What are you thinking about” he had whispered into your hair and you hummed happily, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Thinking about you and how happy you make me.”

He kisses your forehead, his hands tracing up your arms as he draws you closer to him. A soft, cool breeze tickling against your skin as the salty ocean spray intermingles with his cologne. You sigh as you look up at him, giving him a sleepy smile before saying,

“Can I tell you something?”

He gives you an equally dopey smile as he bites down on his bottom lip.

“Can I tell you something first?”

You raise an eyebrow before nodding.

“Yes but only because I took the last bite of your cinnamon bun.” you laugh lightly and he chuckles, before positioning himself so he can get a better view of you

“Ok I don't want to freak you out, I know this..our relationships, it hasn’t been that long but…” he trips through his words, his eyes furrowing together before he finally says. ‘

“I love you. I love you so much. I’ve never felt this way before. I didn’t understand what people would reference when they say you meet with someone and it just clicks. I’m happier and I’m a better man because of you….”

He looks back down at you, a large grin on his face as his cheeks blush over.

“Ben I - “ you start and he shakes his head, quickly saying,

“You don’t have to say anything either.”

But you did.

“I love you too.” you whisper back to him before leaning up and kissing him. His tongue mingles with your as his hands get lost in your hair, pulling away minutes later to press his forehead against yours.

“I was going to tell you Ben. I wanted to tell you so much in that moment. But I was so happy. For the first time in years I was happy.” you start to cry and he sets his beer down, watching you. You couldn’t help but ramble on, “I told myself I was going to tell you every time I was with you. Or that I would leave my father, get disowned by my family. But I was so afraid and I didn’t want to lose you.”

Ben gets up, walking toward you before he’s in front of you. He crouches in front of you, grabbing one of your hands before saying,

“Babe,” he tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him and he gives you a soft smile. “I know that this might sound crazy. But I love you. Thank you for being honest with me. Finally.” he turns and looks down at the ring on my left finger.

“But now we have to figure this out. And you and me.”

You sniff and nod, lacing your fingers with his as you look at him.

“I want to love you the way you deserve but Y/N - I can’t be with you if you are engaged. I can’t do that any longer. Its not fair to anyone. Something’s gotta give.”

“I know…” you let out meekly and he smiles as he leans up a bit, the scruff on his beard tickling your cheek as he runs his right hand up your thigh, slightly parting your legs.

“Let me show you get if you choose me.”

#ben barnes #reader x ben barnes #dive

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punkascas · 7 years

Text

Fic Author Interview

tagged by: the wonderfully talented and incredibly sweet @amirosebooks ❤

tagging: @iggyw @tenoko1 @casolantern @schmerzerling @amazinmango @serricoj @rainbofiction @coffeeandcas @topaz-eyes @angelofthemoor @culumacilinte @coplins

im going to do this from the slightly broader perspective of creative writing in general (since i write fic but i also write scripts and things for my job). also this is v long. sorry.

What inspires your work most? (The show it is based on, the actor who portrays a certain character, maybe the character itself…? It could even be an experience.) so generally my inspiration is (in order): (a) my own life experiences, (b) some kind of commentary i want to make about the source material or about fiction or fandom in general, and (c) the characters themselves and the aspects i love in them, especially trying to find ways to play with the duality of their personalities, the good aspects and the negative ones. i’ve known for a long time that what drives me to create is that i want to make other people feel less alone. you know those times to read something or there’s a line someone says, and you’re like, yes, yes, that’s me; no one’s ever gotten that before or at least never put it so perfectly into words, whatever that experience/feeling might be. i want to give people that moment with anything i create. there’s also a lot of things that i’ve experienced in my life that come up relatively often in fiction, or at least in fic, and a lot of it usually is off-putting to me. it never resonates. it’s melodramatic or simply inaccurate, and i think is often written by someone who doesn’t have the lived experience to pull from. so i always want to add my voice to the pile and benefit from my own experiences to make those kinds of tropes and situations more realistic and relatable -- to me, but hopefully also to others. like generally every character backstory or character arc i write in fic is something pulled from my own life. like it’s probably twisted or adapted somewhat, because i’m not into being autobiographical. but as an example, in faith healer, this bit: Memory degrades with time. Maybe as a child he knew that somehow. He knew that there would be a second, slower death across time, as she became more of idea than person, and so he clung onto specific moments as a talisman for Mom: I had a mom once; this was my mommy. He remembers her hands best. The way her skin was thin and dry, but her fingers strong, and the way they'd close around his hands. The way she would press in love and good luck and humility when he misbehaved with a squeeze to his chubby, too small hands. Second best he remembers her laugh, the way her mouth moved around a smile, the warmth in it, tinged with embarrassment whenever someone startled it out from her. The rest of the memories are vague, more like facts he can read out of a mental police blotter than lived experience. She used to wear some kind of fleece robe in the winter, thick and pilled, creating a soft cushion between her breasts for his head to rest when he sat in her lap for a story. He thinks the robe was red. She used to bake things from scratch and used to let him pretend to help. On Sundays she did laundry, down in the basement. He followed her once, asking when Dad would come back, and she paused on the landing, basket of clothes cocked on her hip, and wouldn't go any further until he went back upstairs. The basement, she said, was too dangerous for him, dark and damp. She wanted him to be safe. She always cut the crust off his sandwiches. that is my experience of my grandmother’s death. when she died i knew i would forget over time the specific details of her, so i picked a couple to remind myself of daily so i’d never forget them. and that was her hands and her laugh. and i do have that memory of her doing the laundry and standing on the landing to the basement asking her where my dad was and when he’d be back (he was on an 18 month voyage to africa - my dad is a sailor). and she did always cut the crusts off my sandwiches for me. (and btw i can’t ever re-read that passage with crying.)

What is your favorite fandom to write for? i mean, usually whatever my main fandom is at the time? which right now is spn. i did also enjoy writing potc fic and RDJ films sherlock holmes. i like writing characters who have a very strong but also very biased or unusual perspective on the world. they make for good unreliable narrators, which is something i love doing.

Which perspective do you prefer writing in? (First-person, third-person) always, always, always third-person limited is my go-to. i only write in first-person if the original source material is written that way (like ACD Sherlock Holmes) and i want to do a pastiche of that style.

Do you prefer writing reader fics or OCs? no. full stop. (okay, one caveat: i do like kidfic, but i am also SUPER PICKY about reading it bc im always looking for some accurate representations of parenthood and what it’s like to have a child. like kids are hard??? they’re hard and they make you worry and they drive you crazy and they have their own, weird, stubborn, fascinating views on life and the world. they’re not perfect angel children who exist only to be cute or ridiculously amazing mary sue geniuses. so yeah a well done kidfic where the kid is an OC i will read.)

Do you prefer writing longer works or one shots? given that every single WIP i have right now are fucking, horrible, lengthy novels,i want to say i prefer writing one-shots. i want TO BE ABLE to write one-shots. i used to do???? but yeah, i guess i really do enjoy plotting and world-building, which lends itself to creating monster plot bunnies instead of short stories or quick scenes.

Do you take requests? i do! do i ever actually get around to writing those requests is another question. but absolutely. send me prompts. ask for timestamps. if it speaks to me, and especially if it’s something i think i can write in less than 1000 words, i’ll most likely give it a go.

Do you enjoy getting random Asks? yes! always! i try to respond at least with in 72 hours. but yes please COME TALK TO ME ANYTIME.

What inspires the names for OCs (or extra character names) in your works? Do you pick them from real life or just select them at random? A mix? so with fic, i never really write OCs, or if i do, they’re p much a red shirt or like extra #243 or smth and therefore don’t have names. if a character has spoken dialogue or no on-screen dialogue but some impact on the plot, i’ll try to “cast” that part with a character from the source material. for example, in the family business (which i realise isn’t posted yet), there’s some issues with a rival gang that need resolving. i cast the head of the rival gang as a well-known character from spn that has generally served a rival or an enemy to the boys on the show. i like doing that bc i like the parallels it draws, especially when working with an AU, and the ability to explore characters and dynamics from a slightly (or not slightly at all but in fact completely divergent) angle. i follow the philosophy that part of the real cathartic nature of AUs and part of why we write them is the ability to offer commentary on the source material. that a good AU should offer commentary on the source material. they're both metatexts and paratexts simultaneously. the one caveat to this, again, is kidfic, because i like and i do write it (i’ve just never finished any of those fics enough to publish them). and then i try to name kids in the way i think their parents would name them. i try to put myself in the character’s headspace and try to figure out what name(s) would appeal to them. and if we talk about work, and the scripts i write, i mean all of that is basically OCs. so far every script i’ve written while employed by my current firm, i always stick in at least one instance of one of my dogs’ names. i also will make subtle film or tv references. like the script i just wrote, there were three characters, and the first character had already been named harold by our content lead. so i named the other two perry and harmony as a reference to kiss kiss bang bang. i’ve done all the clones from orphan black as OC names. i’ve done members of radiohead. if one of the scripts im writing already has a theme built into it for a specific pop culture reference (like yesterday one of the scripts i wrote was using yoda speech and star wars analogies as part of its marketing and engagement strategies) so i’ll name characters in line with that pop culture motif (so the star wars themed script has luke and ben and daisy and carrie as characters).

If your story(ies) have OCs, are their appearances based on real people or celebrities? If so, who? as mentioned above, i rarely include OCs and if i do, they’re unimportant stand-ins. so i never give much thought to how they look. offspring in kidfic i do think about how they look. if the actors who play the main characters have children, i’ll start there. like for dean and cas, i always look at jj and west and maison and try to figure out what a kid with some of those combined physical features might look like. i’ll also look at photos of the actors from when they were kids or teenagers and try to decide if these two people had a kid, what features would that kid inherit. for work, casting people depends on client expectations and design direction and budget, so it’s a different ballgame.

How long have you been writing fanfiction? i think the first fic i published was in 2002 or 2003. so 15 years i guess??? how has it been 15 years dude.

#tag games #kat talks #writing stuff #i heart fandom

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