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bi-bi-buckleydiaz · 3 years

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dare night | owen joyner

requested; no, i got inspired while watching OTH for the hundredth time. but please request jatp or tom / peter things !!

words; 3.3K was not expecting it to be this long. kinda got away from me. also unedited I just wanted to get it out ;)

a/n; not me writing an OTH inspired fic for my new beau owen joyner...oop. anyway, hope ya like it. it is unedited because i just finished it and i really wanted to just get it out for y’all.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.”

“C’mon Owen it’ll be fun,” Charlie says, excitement pouring from him like a golden retriever puppy. Owen sighs at his best friend before looking at the rest of his friends behind Charlie.

“Yeah, Owen, we’re only young once. And y’all only get Jadah and I unsupervised once in a blue moon, we have to appreciate that time.” The cast laughs as Madi smiles wide, probably more excited about this proclaimed ‘dare night’ than it’s creator. Speaking of...

“Listen, I already have the dare’s written up and I know you hate to waste paper.” Charlie’s practically pouting now, so Owen really can’t say no to that.

“Fine, let’s get this over with.” Everyone cheers as the final member takes his place around the kitchen island. The cast, minus Cheyenne of course because he’s “too old to partake in this. It’s a teens only event.” “We’re in our twenties Charlie.” “SEMANTICS!”, are gathered in Owen and Charlie’s apartment around their kitchen island, all waiting for their teams and dare card.

“The rules are simple, boys versus girls. Then you each split into teams of two -”

“But there’s an uneven amount on each team. Five against five.” Jadah points out, smiling at Charlie's small ‘shit’ and long sigh. He thinks for a minute before a metaphorical light bulb goes off above his head and he’s smiling again.

“Then a boy and girl will have to be together. Just split the points at the end.” Satisfied with the idea, everyone nods. No one misses the way Jeremy and Carolynn smile at each other.

“Now, you all have phones, you have to document one of you completing the dares either with a photo or a video. After the first dare is complete, you’ll get the second one. I’ve asked strangers around where your dare takes place to give you the next ones. They were very accommodating and are very excited to see y’all. We’ll all meet back here at midnight. Team that gets the most points, wins.” Charlie is practically vibrating by the time he’s finished, proud of his little game he put together and that everyone is just as excited as he is, well, minus Owen of course. But that’s because he’s nervous about doing unknown dares in public. Sure he puts on this face of being quirky and cool and fun, doesn’t mean some things don’t scare him.

“So everyone, pick your partners, pick your card, and let the dares begin!” Madison and Jadah immediately jump for each other, Carolynn and Jeremy grabbing hands before Charlie is even done speaking. Savannah and Tori high give, Sacha and BooBoo look at each other and shrug, assuming the wonder twins will want to stick together. Everyone is shocked though when Charlie bounces over to Sacha and slings his arm around his shoulders, shooting Owen an apologetic look in the process.

“Sorry bro, but I think we both know if we go at this together we’ll get nothing done and, I’d kinda like the boys to win.” Madi covers her mouth and the confession while the rest laugh. Owen groans and then goes red when BooBoo shoots him a look.

“That was rude! I’m glad to be your partner BooBoo don’t get me wrong. Seriously, so excited.” Owen begins to panic and is set to keep babbling before BooBoo laughs and lightly punches Owen’s shoulder.

“Relax dude, let’s go kick some dare ass!” Everyone cheers and grabs a card off the table before rushing out the door to their respective vehicles, Madi managing to borrow her dad’s car for the night, thanking God that she passed her road test before season 2 started.

“So, what dare did we get?” Owen asks when he and BooBoo reach the car. He starts it up while BooBoo rips open the envelope.

“We...ooh no.” He starts to giggle before he can even finish. Owen can feel his heart start to race.

“Oh no, what’d we get?”

“Hehe we, ha, we have to return some clothes...” Owen let’s out a sigh of relief.

“That’s not too bad.”

“While wearing them,” BooBoo finishes. Owen freezes.

“Excuse me!?” BooBoo breaks into a loud laugh at Owen’s shock, handing him the card in the process. “No way! Is Charlie insane?” What the hell was he thinking? What if someone recognizes him while he’s taking off a shirt to return it? Wait, why is he the one doing the returning?

“No. Nope. No way, we lose this point. What’s the next one?” BooBoo is still laughing as he shakes his head.

“You heard Charlie, we only get the next one if we complete this one.” Owen groans, accepting his fate.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Believe it drummer boy. Especially since you’re gonna be the one doing it.” Owen whips his head towards BooBoo, almost breaking his neck in the process.

“No way. Dude, no. Way.” Owen is ready to get on his knees and beg.

“Um, well, the sizes are on the card and they match you,” BooBoo says, watching Owen begin to pout and accept his fate. BooBoo would feel bad if he didn’t think this was going to be a hilarious night. “C’mon, get driving.” Owen groans once more before driving away, accepting his fate that this night will be a wreck.

~ ~ ~

Shopping alone is boring.

Y/N asked friends, obviously, but they were all busy doing something or someone, so she was left alone to shop for christmas gifts. Sure it’s early, like, two months early, but she learned a long time ago that when you live alone as a young adult, living paycheck to paycheck, it's best to shop for gifts in increments and not all at once near christmas time. So here she is, shopping alone in a mall near the stores closing times because that’s the only time she can spare.

It’s not all bad, late night shopping means not a lot of people in the mall and those who are here are strung out college kids like here. Sure there have been some creepy guys eyeing her up and down, but when she felt those looks she made it clear to go to a store that had security in front of it, even if that meant staring longingly and things she can’t afford.

Y/N’s about half an hour into shopping for her niece and nephew when she hears a commotion on the other side of the clothing store. She quickly glances over then looks back to the shirt she was admiring, before realizing what she saw couldn’t be quite right. She looks over again, and holy shit, her eyes weren’t deceiving her. There really is a guy at the cash register shirtless and in the middle of taking his pants off.

Y/N takes back her previous statement, shopping alone is so not boring.

It’s then she notices a security guard enter the store, hand on the walkie talkie on his shoulder. There’s no way that’s going to end good. She doesn't know why she does it, but one second she was holding a shirt for her nephew and the next she's pushing the rack of clothes in front of the guard and grabbing the near naked and guy and running. She hears a camera snap behind her and a ‘hey wait up’ but all she’s really focused on is getting the guy out of the mall before he’s arrested for public indecency or something.

The hand in hers tugs her to stop just before the reach the mall doors, making her halt in her running. She looks back and ‘woah, he’s pretty.’

“Hey, not that I’m thankful but, my friend...” Pretty eyes trails off and he takes in a breath and wait, when did she start calling him pretty eyes. No! He’s a stranger.

“Yeah well, your friend isn’t the one half naked in the mall getting chased by security.” He ponders it for a minute then nods. “So let’s go. I promise i’m not gonna murder you, just gonna take you to the parking lot so you don’t get arrested for public indecency and end up on the sex offender registry.” Pretty eyes get’s scared at that and then begins to nod vehemently.

“Yeah, yeah that’s bad. Lets go!” As he says that, security appears behind them. She grabs his hand and they book it out of the mall and into the shockingly cold autumn air. She doesn’t know where this guy’s car is so she leads him to hers, praying she’s not making a mistake.

~ ~ ~

Owen doesn’t know how he ended up here. He remembers putting the clothes that were in the locker on and he remembers going to the first store and returning the shoes, but after that he thinks the adrenaline kicked in and he blacked out from it. One minute he was taking his pants of trying not to die of utter embarrassment and the next, some girl was dragging him out of the mall and to her car in the parking lot. He doesn’t know why he let this stranger drag him out of the mall, but he’s not really complaining as she shoves him into the back of her car, away from prying eyes. He only begins to panic when she climbs in next to him and shuts the door. Once the silence settles around them does reality finally settle in and does he realize what he actually just did.

“Holy shit. Holy shit what did I do! Oh my God that could have ended so bad! Oh my God!” He panics for another minute before a hand settles on his bare shoulder.

“Hey. Hey! You’re fine. They didn’t follow us out, you’re not getting in trouble.” Her voice is soothing, he’ll admit, and he can feel the anxiety begin to ease back. But it doesn’t change the fact that he was just half naked in the mall where anyone could have recognized him and taken pictures. Granted, Charlie did think about that and put a random blue baseball cap and glasses in the bag of clothes too. But still, that’s like, nothing! He goes to grab his phone to check instagram before realizing he’s only in his underwear. In a random girls car. In a Vancouver mall parking lot. She seems to realize this at the same time because she clears her throat and scooches to the other side of the car.

“Um, do you, do you like, have clothes or something I can go retrieve or...” He nods and goes to give her the key to the locker, then remembers, no pants. They chuckle at the same time and looks down at her purse, rummaging through it for her phone. He takes it from her with a small ‘thanks’ hoping his cheeks aren’t showing how flushed he feels. He quickly dials BooBoo’s number, giving him the details of what went down, asking the girl where they are and reporting it back to him, then hangs up.

“Um, thanks. For that. And for saving me from being arrested. That was, thanks.” The girl giggles and nods. “I’m Owen, by the way. I don’t normally run around malls in my underwear.” He sticks his hand out, hoping she’ll take it and give a name in return. He’d really like the pretty girl's name.

“I’m Y/N. I don’t normally take random, half naked strangers to my car.” He laughs at that and they shake hands.

“Well, thanks for making an exception.” They stare at each other for another few seconds before a knock on his window makes them break apart. He looks over and sighs in relief at BooBoo and his clothes in his hand. He opens the door and jumps out, taking the clothes from BooBoo and immediately shoving his legs into his pants. The girl get’s out after him, smiling at him balancing on one foot and trying not to fall over.

“Thanks, for saving him. No hard feelings for leaving me in the dust.” BooBoo smiles as he says it so Owen hopes the girl doesn’t take it too harshly. She laughs though and, woah, that’s a nice laugh. He’s so focused on her smile and the way she says her name that he puts his shirt on backwards. He doesn’t notice until BooBoo points it out, laughing as he does. When Owen is properly dressed again, he takes a deep breath and leans against the car.

“When I see Charlie, I’m gonna murder him. We’ll have to film the rest of the season without him. Kenny can deal.” Owen only realizes what he’s said when BooBoo shoots him a look. Y/N looks at the two in confusion, before looking back at Owen.

“You’re an actor?” He nods and watches as her face goes from confused to angry. “And you got undressed in a mall? How stupid are you?” She punctuates the last sentence with punches to his arm. BooBoo giggles in true BooBoo fashion as Owen rubs his arm. He watches her take out her phone and he looks over her shoulder as she opens twitter. She goes to the search bar, pauses, and then looks up at him.

“Full name?”

“Oh um, Owen Joyner.” He watches her type it in and breathes a sigh of relief as nothing but Alex edits pop up. She tries Instagram next, then TikTok, and gets the same answers as before. Nothing about him being naked in a mall, just fan edits of him and him as Alex.

“You are so lucky no one saw you dude, your career would be over.” She says, closing her phone and putting in her pocket. “What were you thinking?” He can’t help but feel scolded and slightly cowers in response. She notices and immediately softens. “Sorry, I just met you, I shouldn't be so mean.” A pause. “But that was still really stupid.” BooBoo giggles and Owen shoots him a look before nodding and looking back at Y/N.

“Yeah but, it was a dare.”

“And you just accepted it?” Owen feels his cheeks go red and looks at his feet.

“Well, yeah. We wanna win.” Y/N giggles and looks between the two boys.

“Seriously? So what is this? Some sort of dare game night?” The boys nod, then BooBoo lights up and reaches into his pocket for the next dare.

“Speaking of, the cashier at the store gave me the next dare. Are you ready?” Owen groans and BooBoo takes it as an affirmative. He opens the envelope and quickly glances at Y/N before reading it aloud for Owen.

“Take a picture in a photo booth with a stranger.” Y/N glances at the card and sees words on the back too.

“There’s something on the back.” BooBoo flips it and begins to giggle again.

“No way. Oh man Owen.”

“Me! Why me? I just walked naked around a mall!”

“Because it’s asking you to kiss a stranger and my girl would kill me if I did this.” Y/N blanches at that and begins to slowly and hopefully discreetly back away from the two boys. But Owen catches her.

“Hey.” He looks nervous and begins to fiddle with his fingers. “You don’t have to! Obviously! I mean, you already saved me once, but, like I kinda know you now and you’ve already seen me shirtless...” He trails off and flashes puppy dog eyes at the girl. She huffs and groans and finally, “Fine. Let’s get this over with. Y’all better win this stupid game though.” Owen smiles bright and Y/N tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the sight. She just met this boy for god sakes!

The three young adults head back into the mall to one of the strips that has a photo booth. BooBoo giggles as he all but shoves the two into the small area, singsonging a “good luck” before pulling the curtain closed.

Awkward silence falls over the two as they squeeze together on the small seat. They smile nervously at each other as they hear BooBoo drop coins into the slot outside.

“Um, so, do you wanna like -”

SNAP!

They giggle and look at the camera with smiles in time for the next one.

SNAP!

Y/N looks back at Owen and, in a moment of confidence, grabs Owen’s shirt and brings his face closer to his.

SNAP!

He glances at her lips, licks his own, then they’re kissing. His lips are soft and she sinks into him. She feels his tongue lick her bottom lip and almost lets a moan slip as she opens her mouth a bit for him. They don’t even hear the last snap, too caught up in each other. Her hands move to his hair and his hold her hips tight. They break for air eventually, eyes closed as they breathe in and giggle.

“That was um...” Y/N nods. “Yeah. That was, yeah.” She feels him tilt his head towards her again for another kiss, but the curtain opening pulls them apart. They jump apart, as much as they can in the small booth, and stare at BooBoo like they were caught doing something bad. He’s smirking and shaking the photo strip in his hands.

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely winning.” Owen breathes out a laugh and Y/N nods, taking BooBoo’s offered hand to help her out.

“Um, I better, go, yeah, I should go. I hope you guys, uh, win or something.” Y/N hikes her purse up her shoulder and begins to walk away, eyes on her feet and hands shaking as they go into her pockets. She’s almost to the exit when a hand wraps around her upper arm.

“Hey wait up!” Owen. “Um, I just, that was, that was something right? I wasn’t imagining that? That was like, could I have um, number? Could I have your number?” He’s stuttering, face red and hands shaking in his pockets. Y/N has to giggle, feeling a bit calmer knowing she’s not the only one who’s feeling something.

“Yeah, that was number worthy.” They smile while exchanging numbers, then keep smiling as Owen leans and kisses her cheek.

“Thanks for saving my ass twice tonight,” he whispers in her ear before leaning back. Y/N nods and begins to back away.

“Yeah well, it’s a pretty nice ass.” With that she turns and practically runs back to her car, not believing what a night it's been.

~ ~ ~

“And we’re tied! Although, there is one more dare on the table.” Charlie giggles, knowing exactly what it is, saving for last for a reason. Carolynn swipes it off the table before anyone else can, ripping it open and smiling at the words.

“Kiss a member of your team.” She sees Jeremy smile and buff up, getting ready for smooch from his wife since they were partners. Carolynn smiles and leans towards him, before quickly grabbing Tori’s neck and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. Everyone laughs and cheers, Jeremy pouting at his girl while she grabs his hand.

“Well then, unless any of the boys kissed a stranger in a photo booth, the girls win.” BooBoo goes to raise his hand, but Owen stops him. BooBoo shoots him a look but Owen shakes his head, hoping he gets why. Why he doesn’t want to mention Y/N. Sweet, life-saving Y/N who didn’t even know who he was or hell, who BooBoo was. Who just saw a random guy in need of saving and didn’t think twice about helping him. BooBoo lets it go, and Owen nods a thanks. He cheers for the girls as they accept their win, hand rubbing the picture strip in his pocket, and mind preparing a text to Y/N as soon as he can escape to his room.

Maybe dare night wasn’t such a bad idea.

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x fem!reader #owen joyner x y/n #owen patrick joyner imagine #owen patrick joyner x reader #imagine #fanfiction #owen joyner fluff #fluff

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abiggaynerd · 3 years

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What made me ship maxwil. Sorry this is really just a jumbled mess JKNKJN but hope u enjoy reading it anyway. Under a cut because its too fucking long

Wilson and Maxwell are don’t starve’s main characters. They show up in the original game’s intro movie together.

Maxwell speaks to Wilson on the radio, offers him a deal, and Wilson takes it.

Now, think about that- Wilson, with no hesitation, takes a stranger’s dubious offer from a radio that is NOT supposed to be two-ways. He ruins his life without even thinking about it.

This shows us how DESPERATE Wilson is for human contact.

Wilson lives alone in a house, far away from his family who hates him, and not a single friend. Some might say Wilson doesn’t like people. But what i see is a person who ADORES people, being forced to be apart from them (exactly like maxwell) because no one will take him seriously. Wilson is working this hard because he is convinced if he just makes one good invention, has one big break, then people will finally respect and like him. It’s not just that he wants knowledge for knowledge’s sake.

He has someone offering him exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the offer, it’s the fact someone is talking to him. Wilson wants someone to listen to him, and believe in him, and that is JUST as important as the knowledge, if not more so. Maxwell has complete faith in Wilson’s ability to make this portal. Wilson trusts maxwell more than anyone else, simply because he’s gotten the smallest bit of positive attention.

That makes his betrayal absolutely crushing for Wilson. Wilson is the only person who explicitly says he hates maxwell in the first game. He feels betrayed much more personally than maxwell intended, he’s furious, and he finds out maxwell didn’t actually believe in him the way he thought. Wilson is forced once again to completely rely on himself. Wilson likes himself and believes in himself a lot, but he sort of has to. No one else will. And that’s a hard thing to deal with.

Wilson goes through the worlds, because he wants out, obviously. He is the only one to canonly reach the end of adventure mode. Wickerbottom may think he’s an idiot, but he’s the one who made it to the end of the line, not her.

Wilson is likely expecting a boss fight here, or something, but what he gets is a sad, frail old man who is suicidal and has nothing. Maxwell has completely given up. When you free max, it says “take pity?” Wilson does. Wilson KNOWS this will end badly for him. Wilson KNOWS he’s not going to get anything in return. But Wilson frees him, because Wilson is unequivocally GOOD. Wilson cares about people, deeply, and would do anything for them. Wilson does not like to see people suffer, and Wilson will take on the pain for himself if he can. Maxwell has hurt him more than anyone, but Wilson still takes his place.

Now if we look at this from Maxwell’s perspective: Wilson is just another person to trick into coming here. Maxwell is putting on a show, using all his charisma, doing what They brought him here for. It’s the same as everyone else.

Something interesting about adventure mode is that maxwell does NOT want you to continue. He does his absolute best to keep you from getting to the end. Scaring you, killing you, bribing you. You think it’s cruelty or fear of you at first glance, but really: maxwell does NOT want you to suffer the way he does.

Maxwell brings you here, puts you in a terrible world, but in his mind, NOTHING is worse than the throne. Look at him on the throne and look at him as a survivor- on the throne he has nothing but despair and the desire to die. As a survivor, he’s extremely peppy in comparison. The throne has ruined maxwell, and even though he’s past the point of caring if you come to the constant, he does NOT want to be the reason someone else is on the throne.

But is the door itself a cry for help? Was that a subconscious thing maxwell did? Charlie doesn’t have an adventure mode. She seems quite happy on the throne. Or is it because the Them are tired of maxwell? Compare Charlie’s world to Maxwell’s: considerably harder. Charlie’s world may allow you to revive yourself, but Maxwell’s is objectively easier. Less bosses, less danger, more resources. Maxwell also tries to give you a world you can have everything you need in in adventure mode, which is THE BEST he can do for you- something probably only allowed because the Them know the survivors won’t take his offer.

When you get to the throne, despite being in absolute mental agony, maxwell cannot make himself trick you into freeing him. Which he COULD. He could pretend the key will let you out, he could pretend it’s something he REALLLY doesn’t want you to do because oooooo its gonna free youuuu and send you to earthhhh. But he cannot allow himself to do that, because this is the last bit of kindness and humanity he has- giving you the knowledge that the throne is the worst fate possible here. He clearly doesn’t think you are going to do it until you do- he’s shocked and thrilled when he stands up.

Wilson frees him, knowing everything, after everything, and that SHOCKS him. Maxwell considers Wilson his savior. He owes everything to him.

They don’t see each other again until cyclum. Wilson attacks maxwell, and while some people may think it’s because he’s angry, i think it’s because he SAW maxwell die and assume it’s either an insanity hallucination come to kill him or a new monster come to trick him. When max doesn’t attack when Wilson stops, he stops.

Now, there are a lot of things Wilson could do. He could leave, he could kill him, he could ignore him. But Wilson feeds him. Maxwell is TOTALLY FINE. Max can get food himself. And food is a valuable resource. Wilson chooses to feed maxwell, because Wilson is good. They camp together, another thing Wilson doesn’t have to do. Wilson then decides to WORK WITH MAXWELL ON A PORTAL. AGAIN. Wilson makes the ACTIVE CHOICE to trust maxwell, with NO REASON TO.

Now, we don’t know exactly what happens when the other survivors get there, but it stands to reason Wilson protects and defends max against the other survivors. Even though the portal failed AGAIN, and its possible max was fucking with him AGAIN. Wilson CHOSES to trust Max, even with evidence that could imply otherwise.

If we look at the quotes, Wilson banters with max a lot, and can be annoyed with him. But when max is dead, Wilson explicitly reassures him he’s already working on reviving him.

Maxwell, like Wilson, thrives on attention. He needs it, even if its negative. It’s easier for him to be someone to hate than just a sad man to pity. His persona- where he misses the throne and being king, is a lazy asshole, and hates everyone- is just that, a persona. Max is an actor, after all. He and wigfrid have this in common: he cannot handle being HIMSELF because being himself is terrifying. He doesn’t have anything as himself. He’s nothing as himself. I don’t think mentally he would be able to handle it! And Wilson knows this.

Maxwell also, when Wilson dies, asks if he really wants to come back. I think this is the only way he can think of to try to make up for bringing him here. It’s not much, but Wilson wouldn’t feel pain any more. Of course Wilson wouldn’t accept that, but maxwell offers because it’s the only thing he can think of.

Wilson is someone maxwell is nervous and shy around, when greeting. He’s the only one max shows explicit affection for. Like i said before, max sees Wilson as an angel, as his savior, but maxwell cannot handle it. It’s easier for him to be a huge asshole. But Wilson does not let him drive him away.

I think the banter is something Wilson enjoys! Wilson is a sarcastic person, and he and max are intellectually equals. I think max is someone he really enjoys spending time with, as well as someone he would do anything for.

Now if we look at one of the more recent videos, with charlie, Winona, Wilson, and Max, maxwell sees charlie for the first time in a long, long time. He is frozen, but when Wilson calls him, he immediately follows him out. This shows me he puts Wilson on the same level as CHARLIE now, if not HIGHER.

But something else that isn’t technically canon that made me ship it is this: when i played adventure mode for the first time, i got all the way to the end cutscene and died during it. I didn’t unlock max so i had to do it again.

I restarted, and it made me think of Wilson KNOWING adventure mode was not a way out. KNOWING the end was not going to go well for him. But going through all five worlds, AGAIN, JUST to free maxwell. And that really got me to love the ship jknkjn

In conclusion maxwell and Wilson have an absolutely beautiful relationship, and it’s good.

#maxwil #long post #ds #bluh bluh

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raleighcarrera · 3 years

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saved by the bell

foreign affairs | m!blaine hayes x mc (kennedy monroe)

blaine springs kennedy from her date in chapter 10.

catch up: knockout (E) / on the ropes (T) / outpoint (T) / parry (E) / pulling punches (T) / ringside (T)

tagging: @pixeljazzy ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixelsandkink ; @writinghereandthere ; @choicesarehard ; @dakotawinchester ; @flyawayboo ; @withbeautyandrage ; @blainehellyes ; @levineseth ; @gryffindordaughterofathena ; @thefirstcourtesan ; @josieplayschoices

~3.5k words | T

he’s not going to look.

no matter how much his phone lights up with incoming notification after incoming notification, he’s not going to look. blaine refuses to torture himself by checking for photos of kennedy’s date, though his curiosity is eating him alive.

it’s a nice reprieve from worrying about her, at any rate, even if it is maddening.

lately it feels like all he’s done is worry about her, though that’s mostly because kennedy looks to be about an inch away from tears every time she’s around -- not that it’s often, anymore. there’s absolutely nothing worse than seeing her suffer from the sidelines; he still feels just as helpless as he did when he watched her give that first disastrous press conference in his dorm, the day after the pictures hit voyeur.

it’s unbelievably frustrating, being forced to sit on his hands and watch everyone else try to control her life. kennedy’s under a microscope like neither of them have ever been before, and for the first time in his life, he’s in the uncomfortable position of having to be careful -- not because he gives a shit about himself or his own reputation, but because of her, and what it might do to her if he was reckless.

he’s bitten his tongue more times in the last week than he has in his entire life. it’d taken every last ounce of his self control not to snap and defend kennedy at the pet store, not to panic when she’d clued him in on her mom’s newest pr strategy, not to keep her locked in the teacher’s lounge with him for the rest of the semester and refuse to let her go when she snuck out to meet him.

already he knows he’ll never forget the names and faces of the classmates of theirs that’d picked on her. if he ever really does wind up in charge in ardona, one day, he’ll come to power with a ready-made list of enemies, all because of the way they’d made her look when she sunk down low into her seat in class, her shoulders hunched in shame.

he’s laying in bed, moping miserably, thinking over it all when peter pokes his head in with a hesitant knock. “how’re you holding up?” he asks, tactfully, given that blaine’s pretty sure he looks utterly awful. “those daily post photos were... rough.”

blaine groans, burying his face in his hands. “i’m not looking at them. i don’t want to know.”

“that’s probably for the best,” peter says sympathetically, and that does it -- seals the deal completely. he reaches for his phone, snatching it off the nightstand.

dionne’s also texted him, which means the photos are as bad as he’s hoping they won’t be. his stomach twists into knots as he navigates to his favorite gossip site, certain the pictures he’s looking for will be plastered all over the homepage.

sure enough -- there they are: kennedy and alexei, huddled together outside of some swanky restaurant, hand-in-hand. she’s all dressed up for the occasion, because with alexei she’s allowed to be; she doesn’t have to sneak out to see him, hidden under a baseball hat in some far away place where no one will recognize either of them. the point of this date is to be seen, and judging by the crowd of flashing lights surrounding them, they’ve done a perfect job selling their relationship to the press.

so the second picture accompanying the story is an unnecessary twist of the knife -- complete overkill. they’re kissing, in this one, lips pressed together chastely just outside the limo. he feels nauseous.

“they’re probably having a terrible time,” peter says, though blaine’s still staring at his phone, eyes fixed on the photo in his hands. “i heard that restaurant is horrible.”

“it’s fine,” blaine says hollowly, tapping back to his texts to answer dionne. she wants to know how he is, too, and he gives her the same answer: fine. everything is fine.

“you’re so full of shit,” dionne says, when she shows up at his dorm twenty minutes later, her arms folded across her chest and her expression unimpressed.

yeah. he forgot she knows him so well. “well -- whatever,” blaine sighs, dragging a hand down his face. it doesn’t matter. it has to not matter, for kennedy’s sake. “it’s not like i can do anything about it. this is the way it has to be.”

the look in dionne’s eyes grows distant, and he sits up slowly as a smile starts to overtake her face, cautiously optimistic while what’s obviously an evil plan begins to unfurl. “no,” dionne says, “it’s not. i think i have an idea.”

so -- that’s how he finds himself sweating through his jacket, overthinking this whole stupid plan while he waits for kennedy to slip out the back of the stupid opera house and meet him and his stupid rental car in the alley. he thinks back over all the ways they’d had to cover his tracks to get him here: how peter’d had to call in the car, how dionne’d had to threaten and sweet talk alexei at the same time, how there isn’t a single hurdle he wouldn’t leap or hoop he wouldn’t jump through for even just half an evening alone with her.

this is probably a terrible idea. at the very least, it’s dangerous, and sure to get them fucking caught again, no matter how careful they all were in making it happen.

maybe he should call the whole thing off. call dionne and get her to tell kennedy to forget it -- to go back to her date and take the easy way out, because who is he kidding, anyway?

the sound of heels on the cobblestones takes the decision swiftly out of his hands. blaine looks up to see kennedy standing in front of him, admiring the rental with a gentle smirk on her beautiful face. she looks even more ridiculously gorgeous than she had in the daily post pictures, as annoying as that is.

she’s alone.

“no limo? that’s not very romantic, mr. hayes,” she teases playfully, mouth stretched wide with a smile.

he leans over to pop the door open for her, grinning to cover up his nerves. just having kennedy around is going a long way towards keeping him calm -- he feels undeniably more sane out here with her than he had in his room, pouting with fruitless jealousy. “take it up with dionne,” he shrugs, eyes raking up and down her outfit. she really does look nice. “now hop in.”

“we have three hours and forty-five minutes,” kennedy says helpfully, as soon as they’ve slipped out of town unseen and headed to the highway, “i have to be back by curtain.”

“i know,” blaine hums, sighing with relief as soon as he glances in the rearview mirror and sees they aren’t being followed, “dionne briefed me. she figured out a whole plan.”

“oh,” kennedy says. she sounds... happy. “that was really nice of her.” there’s a pause, and he fidgets with the steering wheel for a moment before shifting his left hand up to the top to steer so his right arm is free to drape across the back of kennedy’s seat. she leans in closer to the center console and continues, “i really wish it was you in there with me.”

he exhales heavily. more relieving than not being followed, than being with her at all is hearing that -- that he’s not alone in his insanity. lately he feels like a completely different person, and he has no idea what’s come over him, so it’s comforting to know that it’s all for something, beyond just making kennedy smile. evidently, she wants to be his stupid girlfriend just as badly as he wants her to. “me, too. you have no idea. i’ve really missed you, these past few days.”

“i know. it’s weird,” kennedy agrees, “hardly seeing you. not being able to text you, and tell you about my day... i mean -- i barely even get to talk to you, outside of class.”

yeah. he knows. and when there’s other people around he has to watch what he fucking says, too. it’s far from ideal, and he knows he’s gotten sloppy, but...

part of him almost wants someone to catch them. blaine knows it’s selfish and stupid, but he wants it all the same. because if someone found out the truth and spilled the beans... they’d be free, and the impossible decision of what to do next would be out of their hands.

he could never ask kennedy to go public on her own. he would never ask her for that, no matter how badly he wants it. but a slip-up... that would be beyond their control.

blaine shakes his head. “it’s fine,” he says again, clearing his throat, “i’ll plan some secret meet up for us every night, if you want. even if it only buys us a few minutes.”

he glances to the side just in time to catch the look that crosses her face. kennedy’s quite obviously touched by his offer, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she stares down at her hands. forcefully, he drags his eyes back to the road. “i’d really like that,” she murmurs, so quietly he almost misses it. when he only nods, she raises her voice and asks, “so, where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” he directs, taking the exit that’ll bring them to the drive-in, mentally cataloging the travel time it’d taken to get up here and making a note of the minutes he’ll need to account for to get kennedy back, especially if he has to circle the block until the street is empty before he drops her off.

her eyes light up when he pulls into the parking lot. “a drive-in theater, seriously? i used to love going to the drive-in back home. i didn’t know they had them near vancross.” her nose is practically pressed against the window as she looks around excitedly while he idles.

“this is my first time,” blaine admits, though how eager kennedy is definitely bodes well for the experience. even if it completely sucked, he’d still bring her back every weekend, just to see her smile like that. “we don’t really have these in ardona, but dionne talked it up.”

kennedy finally peels her eyes away from the window to smile playfully at him again, her eyes sparkling. “so you’re a drive-in virgin? interesting.”

his face feels hot, suddenly. blaine rolls his eyes at her, gesturing at the map of the venue in front of them. they’re kind of holding up the line. “yeah, yeah. pick your movie, rutherland. it’s just background noise for the real show, anyway.”

if he’s being honest, he barely hears her make her choice, the instructions on where to go flying in one ear and out the other. all he cares about for where he parks the car is that it’s secluded, and dark, away from prying eyes and any other people in the lot.

fortunately, blaine finds them the perfect spot, and he doesn’t even waste a second pretending like he gives a single shit about the movie at all, his eyes on her just as soon as the gear shift’s out of his hand.

kennedy’s turned in her seat and already looking back at him. she smiles and says, “thanks for doing this. it’s nice to have a normal date. i never pegged you as the type of guy who was all about carnivals and drive-ins and making these fun experiences for us.”

he shrugs, more nonchalantly than he feels. “probably ‘cause i’m not,” blaine answers honestly, “but everything’s different, with you.”

kennedy makes a soft sound of disbelief, lifting her hands to cover her face. when she peeks out from between her fingers, he sees that she’s smiling widely again. “you keep saying stuff like that. it’s so charming.”

blaine laughs, reaching out to tug her hands off her face. “that’s kind of the point.” he clears his throat, then continues more seriously, “but... i want you to know how i feel, you know? you shouldn’t have to guess. the truth is... i’ve been all-in for awhile, now, and -- those pictures were just a shitty setback. they don’t change the way i feel about you at all.”

she reaches out for his hand, and he lets her lace their fingers together, squeezing affectionately. “you have no idea how nice it feels to hear that,” kennedy sighs. “honestly...” the hesitation in her voice makes it clear she’s unsure of whatever she’s about to say, but she continues, “it kind of just felt like i ruined everything. things were actually going pretty well, for once, but now it’s like there’s this... dark cloud hanging over everything i do. i can’t even hang out with you without worrying we’re going to get caught again.”

his expression softens. he’s not usually one for optimism, but for her, and in the interest of getting some of that thick sadness out of her voice, he’ll try. “well, we’ve done a pretty good job avoiding that so far.”

“that’s true.” kennedy’s head tips back agains the carseat, and she smiles at him again. “i guess we’re making it work, in our own way. i love that i can always count on you to be real with me. it’s so -- refreshing, after all the fake posturing we deal with.”

well -- that’s probably as good an opening as he’s ever going to get. he spares a moment to silently thank whatever god is listening for the chance to ask the question that’s been eating at him for hours, the one thing he’s most desperate to know, beyond even the other stuff that usually keeps him up at night, everything from the simple inner workings of kennedy’s mind to why he’s so tripped up over a girl he’s only spent a few short months with. “speaking of fake...” blaine pointedly looks somewhere beyond her, staring out at the parking lot, “how’d your date go?”

kennedy’s quiet for long enough that he has to look back at her. there’s a knowing little glint in her eyes that he decidedly does not like. “are you jealous?”

“what?” he scoffs, “of course not. you left alexei to go out with me.”

“right,” she laughs, one small word injected with endless disbelief. “well, we had a good time. alexei’s not so bad.”

he’s an egomaniac and a self-centered prick, actually, blaine thinks. out loud, he says, “oh. cool. glad it worked out. cool, cool, cool...”

he fidgets restlessly. kennedy’s visible amusement only grows. “you know it was still a fake date, right? neither of us have any interest in the other.”

“i know,” blaine insists defensively. kennedy only arches an eyebrow at him. with a groan, he slumps back in his seat, a hand rubbing at his jaw. “fine, maybe i am a little jealous. give me a break, okay? this is kind of a unique situation for me.”

“if it helps, i think you’re doing a pretty great job.” she’s still smiling at him, but less like she thinks he’s being funny and more like she thinks he’s being sweet. she leans in a little closer, and -- it actually does help. the knots in his stomach that’d been coiled there since she first said her mom’s team was planning a pr relationship for her are finally starting to unwind.

“yeah?” he asks, gratified by the immediate nod she gives. “that’s good. i don’t wanna half-ass this boyfriend stuff just because it’s new to me.”

there’s a long stretch of silence. he realizes what he’s said all at once and starts to feel nauseous all over again, staring silently back at kennedy while he waits for her to say something -- anything.

“boyfriend stuff?”

“ah.” his hand slips around to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry. slipped out.” he should probably just cut his losses now -- bring her back early to be on the safe side and go back to his dorm and drown himself in the shower, because he is an idiot and that’s what an idiot deserves. “i know you kind of already have a boyfriend.”

kennedy huffs out a quiet laugh. “i kind of do.” she tilts her head to meet his eyes, forcing him to look at her again. his heart stutters painfully in his chest, picking up into a pace that’s almost frantic. “but... that’s not a ‘no.’”

their hands are still linked together. he looks down at where their fingers are interlaced, hoping his palms aren’t as sweaty as they feel. blaine disentangles his hand to lift it instead to kennedy’s face, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes with a hesitant smile she immediately returns tenfold.

it’s also not a ‘yes,’ but he’ll take what he can get.

as it turns out, three hours and forty-five minutes is kind of not actually a long time at all.

or maybe it would be, for some people, but with kennedy in his lap, squished between him and the steering wheel so she can kiss him senseless, the time flies by. they watch what’s probably ten minutes total of the movie, they’re so busy kissing and talking, his hands wandering along her new outfit to show his appreciation for it the only way he knows how.

for her part, kennedy gives as good as she gets, tugging his hair out of place and messing up his jacket and making him forget his own name, with the way her hips are pushing into his lap and all the sweet little sounds she makes when he whispers something dirty in her ear and presses her in closer against him.

no amount of agonizing over her fake dates and not being able to kiss her in public is ever going to drive the way she shivers with her whole body when he says something she likes from his mind.

still, the drive back is somber. it’s time to bring kennedy -- kiss-swollen lips and raised hemlines and all -- back to the opera house before he knows it, and he’s really not looking forward to everyone who sees her thinking she spent four hours fooling around in the private box with alexei, of all people. he’s looking forward to driving home alone and going to bed by himself even less.

tomorrow he’ll have to sit by her in class again and pretend like everything’s fine.

because they had tonight, and he knows he should be content with that. the problem is -- he’s not.

“you okay?” kennedy asks, checking the time on the watch on his wrist with a frown. she’s holding his hand in both of hers. “and don’t say you’re ‘fine.’”

“i am fine,” blaine insists, running his thumb across her wrist. “this sucks, but it’s what we have to do. if you’re good, then i’m good.”

she studies his expression for a minute, then sighs. “i’m as good as i can be,” she murmurs, “but things will get better.”

he knows that, too. even if no one ever finds out it’s him in the photos, even if they have to spend the rest of their lives sneaking out and ditching their bodyguards so they can find a few hours alone together -- things are good. the alternative -- winning the fight with his parents to keep him away from vancross, never getting the chance to know kennedy as well as he does... that’s a future that seems bleak, now that he’s seen the alternative.

“it’s really alright,” blaine assures her. “i’ll miss you, but... do what you gotta do.”

something about the way he says the words seems to instill new confidence in kennedy. she straightens her shoulders and glances back at the opera house door with determination. “thanks,” kennedy sighs, squeezing his hand one last time before slowly pulling away. she probably has only seconds until the finale starts up, though he’s desperate for a way to make them stretch longer. an eternity would be a nice place to start.

“will you... text dionne goodnight before you go to bed?” she asks, looking so hopeful he finds it’s impossible to do anything other than nod.

he grins widely at kennedy, leaning in to steal one last kiss. “dream about me, will ya?”

“every night,” she promises, and blaine lowers the window to get a better view of her and the sway of her hips when she slips out of the car and back inside, sighing heavily once she’s gone and he’s alone again, whacking his head against the carseat.

this is some mess they’ve gotten themselves into.

but, he figures, as he pulls away from the curb and starts back towards campus, the image of kennedy walking away in the heels and skirt she’d been wearing playing over and over again in his mind like a highlight reel, it’s definitely not without its perks.

#blaine hayes #foreign affairs #choices foreign affairs #blaine hayes x mc #myfic #long post

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Hard and Mellow – Hoseok

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Genre: smut, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Hello everyone! Stopping by to deliver this quick drabble. It’s been a while since I wrote something because sudden inspiration struck me, so I thought I could follow the mood and this came out.

I’m thanking the best beta reader of this whole galaxy (that I will never thank enough), @joheunsaram. Becoming friends has never been as easy as it is with you. Lob U. I also want to thank a very specific Silent Princess. This is all for you, baby. You’re more extraordinary than words will ever say. You’ve been through so much and I’m so proud of you. I hope this will give you a good time, and someplace you can go back to when you want to escape from the real world. I’d be honoured to call you friend. I’ll wait for you in my next life 💜💐

Do NOT open the “read more” if the following topics trigger you: Sir!Hoseok, Sub!reader, multiple orgasms, vibrator, masturbation and oral sex (female receiving), face fucking and hair pulling (male receiving), squirting, cumplay and cream pies, general messiness, cum eating, heavy breast play (slapping, gripping, squeezing, nipple pinching and tugging), exhibitionism, impregnation/breeding kink, heavy dirty talking, biting, mentions of impact play (spanking and whipping with belt), bruising, mention of blacking out.

Here is my complete masterlist!

Enjoy 💜✨

“Tell me how it feels.”

You simply arched your back and stared deep into his eyes.

“Tell me,” he repeated, curling his fingers and moving the vibrator closer to your clitoris.

“Too good.”

“Too good what?” He teased you.

“Too good, Sir.”

You were barely coherent at this point.

Five orgasms were taking their toll on you. More than that, you had also squirted with the previous two, your body and mind growing increasingly vulnerable.

The fact that he was so clearly going for the sixth, and that he could keep going after that — you knew he could and would — made you grip his hair and shove his face against your crotch.

“So naughty,” he growled with a deep laugh before getting the toy inside you, switching the vibration pattern to a pulsating one that always made you wild for him, his tongue titillating your most sensitive spot with hard, quick flicks.

You tugged at his hair naturally, planting your heels on the mattress before your hips shot up; his hands came to your breasts, gripping them hard before his fingers delivered a sharp, burning slap to your left mound.

He sucked your clit harder, his fingers pinching your nipples while the feeling of the vibrations inside you became way too much for you actually survive his assault.

“Sir, please, stop.”

He hummed and kept going, the growl so deep in his throat that it felt almost minacious.

“Oh, please. No, no, I can’t— Sir!” You screamed, letting sobs fall from your lips just as tears began rolling down the sides of your face.

With a grin in his mouth he kept going, overstimulating you until he felt your release wet his neck and chest.

Nothing pleased him more than feeling you gush for him, over and over.

You could barely believe that the same man who was obsessed with cleanliness and spotless rooms was the same one making you drench the sheets at least once a week — usually with a timing perfectly calculated with the changing of the sheets.

And there was such a deep, bone-melting pleasure in showering while barely alive and falling asleep in his arms with your body brainless, soft and clean against the fresh crisp sheets.

But tonight you were far from that.

You were far from being done.

At least, he was.

He watched your body grow entirely limp underneath him, your eyes closed, your legs shaking as they tried to close, only to surrender to his unfaltering will.

He was hungry.

He was desperate.

He was all things he’d never dared be with anyone else.

He wanted things he never thought he could have.

But now there was you, and even though he was afraid he would lose you to someone who could be reliable in ways he couldn’t, he was ready to tie you down to him in any way he could.

He felt stupid. He felt dumb and reckless and absolutely insane.

He abandoned the slightly sour and salty taste of your cunt, not before lapping at the creamy wetness coating your folds, making them part with a squelching, sticky sound.

He took the vibrator out of you and slipped it into his mouth, eating and licking and sucking at all the sweet release he’d coaxed out of you before letting it rest on the sheets — they were messed up already anyway.

He silently grabbed your ankles and dragged you all the way to the edge of the bed, your body still too tired for you to actively notice anything but the friction of the cotton burning against the bruising skin of your ass and the back of your thighs.

You barely remembered if it had been his hand or the belt — it was a remote memory. Maybe two or three hours ago.

Too much had happened to your body for you to hold on to such fickle facts.

“On your knees. Now.” His order was stark and cold, getting a piercing, squeaking whimper out of you, your legs dangling from the bed before he settled behind you, his thin and strong arms shaping you into the position he required you to be.

You were now sitting close to the edge of the bed, your legs bent underneath you as you finally found enough strength to cooperate.

With your back to his front, straddling him, you felt his throbbing cock against your core, lifting your hips just enough for him to place his tip against your entrance and slide inside once you gave in to the firm, hot fullness of him.

“Yes, my love. Ride it,” his voice came from over your shoulder, one hand coming down to your clit, already looking for one more orgasm, his other palm cupping your heavy breast, bouncing with the needy rise and fall of your hips and with your heavy breathing. Your nipples felt too delicate, too sensitive.

You cried out loudly and shamelessly once he pinched one, tugging at it before rolling it between his thumb and forefinger in a poor attempt at soothing your skin.

His breath was too cold against your sweaty skin.

He managed to bite your shoulder, sucking briefly at the curve of your neck before you felt his rough voice.

“I wish I could fuck you like this on a stage. Show everyone how good I am to you.” He slapped your breast once more before he started meeting your thrusts. “Show them how I make you cum. How I make you squirt all over me.” He bit and growled as he felt you get tighter. “I’m gonna show all of them how my sweet, delicate strawberry turns into the loveliest cumslut for this cock.”

You shook your head and cried out, imagining a thick crowd in front of you, watching in silence, waiting for your orgasm like football supporters wait for a goal, ready to cheer.

“My sweet strawberry. Bet no one can get you half as dirty…” He chuckled. “Such a cute little fuckdoll. Aren’t you hungry for my cum? Don’t you wanna be filled up?”

You sobbed and nodded.

“Say it with your words, Giggles.”

“Sir, please,” you managed to squeal before both his hands grabbed your breasts.

“Please what?”

“I want your cum. I need your cum. I’m empty and cold without it.”

He felt pleasure grow almost too much, ready to overthrow him.

“That’s right. You’re only mine to fill up.” He tortured your nipples some more. “Aren’t you eager to be bred, like an expensive fine pet?”

“Please, gimme babies. I’m your pet. I’m only yours to be filled up, please Sir.” You felt more tears roll down your cheeks.

“That’s right. But this won’t work.” He murmured, helping you on all fours before grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back, making your whole torso collapse onto the bed, your face meeting the spot where his cock was laying earlier as he ate you out. You could tell by the heavy scent of his sex.

“This is the right position for you to get all those babies. They’re gonna stay deep inside. Like this.” He said, driving his cock all the way inside you, humming at the increased depth and tightness.

“It would be so fun to let everyone see how we make babies, don’t you think? Almost a shame we didn’t film this.”

His giggles were evil and taunting, “I’m gonna cum. Would you like to, Giggles?”

You nodded and immediately felt his hand between your legs, touching you with expertise.

“You’ll get so round and soft. It’ll be so lovely.” Hoseok was reaching the very edge. “Everyone will know you’re getting fucked to be bred.” He bent down, closing his eyes and breathing deeper to control himself. “Being too horny when you’re ovulating, walking around the house in nothing but an oversized shirt.” He slapped your ass once, twice, three times, trying to last at least one more minute. “You’re really begging me to put a baby inside you.”

“Please, it’s all I want, please, Hoseok!”

“Such a good girl. You earned my cum so well, my sweet berry,” he managed to coo before he gave irregular, violent strokes.

“Oh, please!”

He lost himself once you squeezed him as tight as you could, forcing him to spill all his cum inside you, the hot spurts shooting against your oversensitive inner walls while his mouth opened wide, letting a few seconds go by before he actually managed to make a sound.

He rammed inside you with animalistic force, fucking his cum deeper inside you, letting your tight cunt milk him until his balls didn’t feel heavy and uncomfortable anymore.

His sweaty forehead hit your nape, but you barely registered that. Pleasure crested and your body became numb to everything, finally giving in to exhaustion as your vision blacked out.

You didn’t know how long it had been when you managed to come back to reality; Hoseok was quiet behind you, your bodies now resting on your sides.

“Giggles,” he called gently.

You hummed and nodded.

“Are you doing okay, honey?” His voice was raw and concerned.

“I’m okay. Tired.”

He kissed your shoulder, where he could spot a bite mark darkening. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head. On a second thought, you changed your mind. “Stay inside,” you whispered.

He did as you told him.

“I really want kids, Hobi.” Your voice was shaking and fatigued after all the heavy breathing and crying and screaming.

“We’ll have as many as you want,” he replied, drawing a line of kisses. “Whenever we’re ready.”

You nodded and scooted further back into him.

“You’ll be so beautiful, with a big round belly, glowing in happiness.” His hands caressed your body reverently. “You’ll be so sweet, breastfeeding our child on a rocking chair. And you’ll be the best at lullabies. Your voice is so nice and soothing,” he was getting emotional. “You’ll make the prettiest, gentlest of babies.”

You caught his hands in yours. “And you’ll spoil them rotten.”

“How can I say no to a mini-you?” He took in your scent, the smell of him and you and sex so deeply interwoven with every fibre of your being. “I hope they look like you.”

You tried to cuddle him as you heard him sniffle. “You’ll be the best dad in the universe.”

He gave a small laugh. “For now I’ll focus on the idea of getting all them babies inside you.”

You chuckled and wiggled your hips against him, squeezing around his half soft cock. “I second that.”

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok drabble #houseofddaeng #thetruthuntoldnet #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #hoseok x giggles

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warrentrash · 3 years

Note

Miss girl, please bless me with your beautiful writing. I cannot live without such luxury. From the prompt list if you will, these three. "you're the reason I'm still here" , " look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said". "I don't know if you know this, but I love you"

you’re gonna’ make me tear up with your compliments. and yes, you may request these! everyone go follow @sanchosammy she is an amazing writer and her pieces are beautiful!

I Love You (Javier Peña X Reader)

warnings: uh horrible spanish i apologise, drinking, i think there a swear word i don’t know

prompts: “You’re the reason I’m still here.”, “Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said.” & “I don’t know if you know this, but I love you.”

word count: 2.2k

If you were to describe your relationship with Javier in two words, you would choose faultless and petrifying.

Faultless, because, well, you two were perfect for each other. You were on the same page for, majority, of controversial and non-controversial topics, you were both sarcastic with each other just as much as you were flirtatious, and you genuinely could imagine spending the rest of your life with him.

That was the petrifying part.

You two had been dating for five months and you could already tell that this was the man you could end up marrying, as corny as that sounds. It also was a somewhat of a stupid thought because neither of you had even told the other that you had loved them. Sure, there had been instances where you both almost said it, but neither of you could actually bring yourselves to speak those three little words into existence.

And of course you loved him, he was so loving towards you, he showed you how much he appreciated you by even the smallest of things, such as picking you up after work or introducing you to his partner and best friend, Steve, and his wife, Connie, who you had instantly befriended. You two became like sisters in the short while you had known one another and she was the only other person you could confide in.

You had no reason not to tell Javier you loved him. Maybe it was the fear of rejection, or maybe it was the fact that you refused to give into your emotions, whatever the reason it was beginning to weigh on the intimate moments you shared.

Your relationship was still in its early stages, despite how long you had been dating for, because you were yet to experience a lot of firsts. Not in that sense, but in the sense of, meeting each other's parents, admitting out loud that you were his girlfriend and that he was your boyfriend, or even going on a date by yourselves, seeing as every time you went out it was with Steve and Connie.

It was around your three month mark of seeing each other that Javier told you what he did for a living, because when you previously asked he would always make a joke about it instead of answering, so you never pushed. Javier told you that he was a DEA Agent so that you had the chance to back out or distance yourself if you wanted. You were concerned for his well being more than your own by that point, you weren't going anywhere.

But recently you had gotten a phone call from your parent's who had been concerned about the wellbeing of the people of Columbia, and they practically begged you to come home, but you couldn't, not yet anyways.

Javier led you through the DEA building with his hand in yours, pointing out several things along the way to his office.

"It's hotter than the devil anus in here, Javi!" You gasped and fanned yourself with your free hand as he pulled you into an office. You were met with not only air conditioning, but an exhausted Steve Murphy, pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips.

He looked at you and offered you a half-hearted wave as Javi pulled his desk chair out and let you sit down.

"What's wrong with old man Murphy?" You mused and began poking at several things on Javi's desk. Javier grinned widely at the nickname as he sat on the edge of the desk.

"Connie’s parents and her sister have been hounding her non-stop to come home. I can't- They're driving me insane!" He growls and pretends to choke somebody out.

You hummed in sympathy. "I understand. My parents keep begging me to come home," you said, taking notice of how Javier looked down at you in confusion.

"They what?" He asked, his frown deepening. "And you've been ignoring their wishes?" He seemed bothered by your choices.

With a scoff you said, "don't act so upset Peña, you're the reason I'm still here."

"So you're blaming me?"

"Did I say it was a bad thing?" You asked him and raised your eyebrows as a small smile cracked his hard features.

You both looked at Steve who sighed loudly, seemingly still in deep thought. "They're just getting into Connie's head," Steve said, turning the conversation back to him and his problems. "I don't want her making the wrong choice."

You took pity in Steve, you knew how much he loved his wife and you knew he couldn't live so far away from her for as long as he would have to.

"If you want, I can go and talk to her?" You offered the stressed blond your help. He sighed and closed his eyes, giving you a nod. "I'll just remind her why she's here, maybe have a few margaritas while we're at it." You rose to your feet and placed a soft hand on Javier's shoulder. "I'll stop by your place afterwards, okay?"

You placed your lips on his softly as he murmured, "okay," into the kiss. You pulled away and grinned at him at the sweet moment you just shared. Of course, Javi being Javi, went and ruined it by slapping your ass as you turned to walk away.

"Couldn't do it, could you?" You asked over your shoulder as you walked towards the door of the office.

"It's just so tempting!"

You shake your butt in his direction as you walk away from the office, earning a laugh in response from both him and Steve.

"-but I forgot the word for change, and so there I was, having this stare down with this cab driver, my underwear in one hand, and a money in the other! Oh, I looked like a hooker!" Connie laughed out her story over her half empty glass of margarita, whilst you also laughed and wiped away your tears.

"It's camb-"

"Cambio!" Connie cried out and slapped her hand in her forehead making you laugh even harder.

Hearing the door rattle behind you, you awed loudly and sat up on your knees, turning around to lean on the back of the couch and to face the two men who had entered with tired looks on their faces. Their spirits seemed to lift when you and Connie cheered for them.

Javi closed the door with his foot and looked at the mess on the coffee table, where you and Connie had your small margarita station, which included a cutting board for the lime, a bowl of salt and a bucket of margarita mix, along with two empty bottles of tequila.

"What the hell happened here?" Steve asked as he planted a kiss onto Connie's lips.

"Y/N, is what happened!" Connie said and pointed at you as you gasped in mock offence, raising your arms a little to let Javi wrap his own arms around your waist. "She made us margaritas."

Javi took the glass from your hand and took a small sip. You watched in amusement as his face scrunched up before accepting the cup back as he palmed it off to you.

"That's just straight tequila!" He winced, causing you to laugh. "Alright, well are you done here?" He asked, watching as you turned to Connie for an answer.

Connie was half awake as she rested her head on Steve's hip whilst he ran his hand through her hair.

You pointed at Steve with your glass and said, "you need to teach her how to handle her alcohol better." Steve and Javi tag teamed as Steve took the glass from your hand and Javi lifted you over the back of the couch. "Whoa!" You exclaim and grab onto his arms tightly as he put you on your own two feet, even though you were unsure whether you were actually standing or not.

Those drinks had gone straight to your head, and the more you internally told yourself you were in complete control of your actions and words, you found it hard for your limbs and mouth to listen to your brain.

"See you in the mornin'," Javier said to Steve who nodded his head and said goodnight. Javi wrapped his arm around your lower back and guided you towards the front door, “come on, right to bed for you."

"Ooh, I like your thinking, Javier!" You say, causing Steve to laugh and Javi to nearly slam the door shut.

Carefully walking down the steps, you found yourself laughing every time you almost tripped, and although it was amusing for Javi, he was worried you were going to get cussed at by one of his neighbours. "Will you keep it down?" Javi hushed you as he walked you down the last couple stairs and to his apartment door.

"Sorry!" You whisper and cover your mouth, creeping your way into Javi's apartment after he unlocked the door and opened it for you. "Oh! We should go dancing!" You say to him and spin around as he shuts the door and locks it quickly.

"No, no you should go to bed," he said and guided you down the few steps into his living room.

You groan and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Come on, please?" You beg, lulling your head back to look at him.

With a small roll of his eyes, Javi places his hands on your waist and begins to sway you both side to side gently.

In content, you rest your head on his chest and sigh.

"Échale ajito bien cortadito pa' que sepa sabroso," you softly sing as you rock side the side. "No te olvides de mi jalapeño. Porque soy el dueño del sabor más picoso"

Javier couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled in his chest from escaping as he listened to you sing El Jalapeño, a song you had shown him only a few days before.

You look up at him with a grin and the words fell out of your mouth before your brain could even catch up.

"I don't know if you know this, but I love you."

Javi stopped swaying from side to side as he watched you break eye contact and blink. He wasn't mad, or frightened even, he was relieved to know that when he was ready to tell you the same, he won't be rejected, he also now didn't have to worry about being the first to say it.

"Y/N, look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said," Javier said and brought you back down to Earth with his voice.

Just as he predicted, you hadn't realised what you had said because you just let out a small laugh and asked, “what?”

"Okay," he muttered and scooped you up as your head fell onto his shoulder, your entire body suddenly overcome by fatigue. "You're going to hate yourself in the morning, Hermosa,” he told you with a slight laugh as he carried you into his bedroom.

"No," you finally say after a few moments of silence and shake your head as you are placed onto the soft bed. "I'm sorry," you say through a hiccup as Javi helped you take your shoes off. Well, Javi did all the work, you just pointed your toes.

"Why are you apologising? You haven't done anything," he said with a small grin as he placed an empty bucket next to your side of the bed.

"It's a pre-emptive apology in case," you mumble before succumbing to a much needed slumber, and rather quickly.

Javi shook his head and went and made sure everything was locked securely, twice, before heading back into the bedroom and laying down by your side. He pressed a firm, yet soft, kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arm around your waist and following your actions of quickly falling asleep.

"I love you."

You whipped around to look at Javi who appeared at your side. You were in his kitchen watching your toast cook in the toaster, and Javi was hanging out the window having a cigarette, observing the people in the streets.

The shock of having heard Javi say those words to you rendered you speechless, not for long, but long enough for Javi to begin to apologize.

"Shut up," you tell him abruptly, your request immediately being heard. "I- I love you too…"

The two of you could only stand there and stare at one another, both acknowledging what a step in your relationship it was to finally admit your feelings out loud.

"What do we do now?" You mutter quietly, causing Javi to snap out of his trance like state and grin.

He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer. "I think I know," he mused, looking down at your bottom lip that was gently tucked between your lips. While you knew he was always thinking about sex, and it made you laugh, you also knew that he wanted to move the emotional part of the declaration of his love for you. So you did.

"Oh, really?" You mutter and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Although I think it's going to have to wait. I need to go see if Connie's still alive after how much she drank last night."

#javier peña x reader #Javier Peña #javier peña x you #javier peña fluff #javier peña drabble #narcos #narcos fic #pedro pascal

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 7

First

Five people. There were five people in this group.

So why could NONE OF THEM drive?!

Carapace hadn’t been expecting the rich kids to know to drive. Knowing them, they probably had chauffeurs who did it for them or whatever.

But Rena? Ladybug?!

He groaned and struggled to rub his eyes through his mask. It was too early for this.

It was a good thing all of them were fit, because the nearest Home Depot was ages away.

When they got there they decided it was best to just go in a group. Mostly because Chat was still only about half awake and someone (Ladybug) needed to push him around in a cart, but also because they all wanted to have some kind of input about how the board looked.

Carapace took out his phone.

The whole point of the ‘living together’ thing was so they could convince the public they were friends, he might as well get content that made them look like they actually got along.

The first part of the video was Chat, slumped over the front of the cart, face drawn in a sleepy smile, practically purring (actually WAS that purring? Carapace was pretty sure it was...). The camera then panned to Ladybug, who was casually throwing the items they chose at him in attempts to wake them up.

Yes, this included the giant board they were going to use to tack different things on.

No, that didn’t wake him up.

But, then, a few minutes later, he started filming again.

Chloe smiled for the camera. “Testing what can wake up our resident idiot. Trial One!”

She kicked the cart as hard as she could and sent it rolling into a wall.

Chat snored on.

Rena frowned. “Isn’t that more trial two? Ladybug throwing things was trial one.”

“Don’t rope me into this,” said Ladybug without looking up from the two different thumb tacks. She clicked her tongue and held them up for Carapace. “Glittery or not glittery?”

Carapace raised his eyebrows. “Uh… anyone gonna check on him?”

“I’ve watched him fall three stories and say ‘it’s fine’. Now, glittery or not glittery?”

Carapace opened his mouth, then shook his head. It wasn’t worth it. “Not glittery.”

“... I’ve decided you’re not allowed to have an opinion.”

“Then why would you --?!”

Rena held up a hand. “She’s right. You don’t get a say in this.”

“I --?!”

“Hey, Queen Bee, noise usually gets him up.”

“Genius!” Chloe snatched the glittery thumb tacks from Ladybug. “Trial three!”

She walked over to Chat and rattled the box by his ear. There was a shrieking noise and the camera barely caught a flicker of black before the entire cart tipped over and spilled it’s contents (including a very frazzled Chat Noir) onto the floor.

There was a short silence as the miraculous holders and the staff members who had been unfortunate enough to be scheduled for work that day processed what had just happened.

And then Ladybug doubled over laughing.

“Oh my kwami I’m so -- pftHAHAHA -- I’ll help clean up I… I just --” She giggled a little more and held up a finger for a moment as she tried to pull herself together. “One -- heheheh -- sec.”

The camera panned away from her to zoom in on Chat Noir’s pout for a brief second before it cut.

All the heroes helped clean up. Obviously. They were heroes.

Once they were done with their cleaning and fifty million apologies, they went back to shopping.

Chat was still in the cart but, after being woken up twice in the same day to the worst sounds his fellow miraculous holders could think of, he was wide awake.

“Guys, it’s Hawkmoth, we have to do purple!”

“No, that’s what he’d want us to do. Go the whole other way and do yellow.”

“Of course you would say that, Bee.”

“What’s that supposed to --?”

Ladybug held her hands up. “Guys, compromise. They’re complimentary colors. We can use both.”

The other three looked at her like she was insane.

Ladybug clicked her tongue and looked over at Carapace. “Are you going to weigh in on this?”

“No. I’d prefer not to get into… whatever this is.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Greeeat. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Ladybug turned to give a tired glare to the three in front of her. “Fine. Fine! I’m deciding. We’re doing purple.”

“But --!” Started Chloe.

“Nope.”

“I --!” Tried Chat.

“Shhhhhhh. It’s decided. Purple.”

There was a little bit of grumbling, but Chloe and Chat did end up putting the yellow back.

Still, the discontent didn’t last long. Partially because it’s Paris and no one is allowed to be annoyed for over five minutes, but also because they all quickly got into choosing different things for the board.

Carapace kind of hung back for this part, because he couldn’t help but cringe whenever Chat or Chloe put something in the cart without looking at the price tags.

(What if Master Fu didn’t count this as a necessary expense? He probably would, and if he didn’t one of the rich kids would end up paying, but… it was still weird to see how careless they were with money.)

Part of him wondered what people thought about their group as they made their way through the store. A group of teenagers, all dressed in varying aesthetics from ‘literally woke up this way’ (Carapace) to ‘oh wow is that child a lawyer’ (Ladybug) to ‘I don’t care about how this looks as long as you know I’m rich’ (Chloe). They didn’t really look like the kind of people who would hang out together...

They were also all wearing masks, that had to be pretty shady.

Actually, now that he was paying attention, he noticed that quite a bit of staff seemed to be watching them.

He tried to tell himself that it was just because they’d made a mess earlier.

He knew that likely wasn’t it.

Carapace instinctively pulled his hoodie lower over his face, sinking into the green fabric. He sped up a little to walk closer to his housemates.

They had stopped to look at different borders.

Chloe was frowning. “ -- which one to choose, they’re all so ugly…”

“We could make our own…?” Said Chat.

“Or, consider, we don’t waste all our time making sure it looks good?” Said Rena.

“We’re not going to get much information for a while, we might as well use our time doing something,” said Chloe.

Rena winced. “Please don’t say that.”

Carapace raised his eyebrows. That was odd. Why was she so determined, anyways?

He shrugged it off. Maybe she just wanted to question Hawkmoth. He wouldn’t put it past her.

His eyes slid over the group to Ladybug, who was occasionally glancing at something and opening her mouth, only to close it again and look away.

He followed her gaze to a bunch of different sized purple, paper butterflies.

Oh. Did she want them and just didn’t know how to say it?

He walked over to the butterflies and checked the price. After a few seconds’ deliberation he made his way down the aisle to look at the construction paper’s prices. Hm… time versus convenience...

He looked up to ask which one would be better and cringed internally when he realized everyone had disappeared.

How did they disappear? They were so loud…

But that wasn’t his problem at the moment.

He pulled down the container of purple butterflies down and started walking.

He tried to ignore the stares of staff members as he wandered the aisles.

“Bonjour!”

Shit.

He turned around and brought a smile to his face as he looked at the lady that had come up to him.

“Salut!” He said brightly, and he tried not to take too much pleasure in the way she winced. It was his go to passive-aggressive move to say ‘Salut’ at this point, to imply that the person judging him was on the same level. Was it petty? Yes. Did it work when it came to trying to figure out if it was something innocent or not? Also yes.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?”

“No thank you, ma’am, I’m just looking for my friends,” he said.

Should he avoid eye contact and bow his head a little? Would she think that was suspicious? He hadn’t done anything, but he also didn’t have any identification on him which wouldn’t look good if she was going to question him…

“Can I accompany you to help you find them?”

Ah. So she was going down that kind of route?

“Not necessary,” he tried.

“I insist.”

“No thank you. I’m fine.”

“A kid like you shouldn’t be left alone...”

He gripped the packet of paper butterflies so tightly that it dug into his palms.

“I can handle myself, thank you. I’m Carapace,” he said.

He fought back a cringe, but it had been necessary. If he stayed like this too long he could get akumatized, and he really didn’t need that right now.

“And I’m Ladybug,” she said, unimpressed.

Yeah. Fair enough. That was kind of hard to prove. Should he show her the kwami hiding in his pocket…?

No, reaching towards his pocket was decidedly a bad idea. She was way too wary of him for that, who knows what she’d think.

He pulled a fake smile to his face. Fine. If he could get this over with quickly he might be able to get through this without getting akumatized.

“Okay, ma’am, help would be nice, I guess…”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0

#a miraculous tiktok account #nino lahiffe #carapace #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #rena rouge #rewriting miraculous #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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mordoriscalling · 3 years

Text

Secret pt.2

A follow up to my fanfic about Geralt talking (and eventually confessing his love) to Jaskier in Polish, thinking that Jaskier doesn’t understand. @artistsfuneral came up with that glorious idea in this fic! Now, pt 2 is about how Jaskier learns the language, as requested by blue_midnight on AO3. Hope you enjoy!

(This fic also includes background, brief Lambert/ Aiden)

At the beginning, Jaskier suspects that it’s Geralt’s way of being as rude as possible. Why on earth act like that, he has no idea, but one thing is for certain: the rustling sounds leaving Geralt’s mouth, which Jaskier thinks are supposed to be words, are set to drive him insane.

It must be some kind of language. Geralt uses it when talking to his horse a lot. Jaskier almost finds the behaviour endearing but then the witcher speaks in that tongue when answering many of his questions. Jaskier just wants to get them better acquainted but Geralt couldn’t care less about the offerings of friendship, apparently.

Even though the witcher can be a right bastard like that, one thing is clear from the very start: Jaskier can only wish to be half the man Geralt is, but the world thinks it’s Geralt who is less than human. Jaskier finds he can’t stand by and let it happen.

It’s a simple exchange. They both need each other to prove that they’re more than what everyone thinks they are. The transaction is uncomplicated: Geralt fights monsters for Jaskier to sing about, Jaskier softens the hearts and the minds. As time passes, however, it changes and becomes more complex: they share food, rooms and coin, start caring for each other in all the small but significant ways.

Five years pass and it’s a friendship in full bloom, but Geralt still often talks to him and snaps at him in that damned tongue, like he doesn’t think Jaskier worthy of knowing his thoughts. It’s never stopped angering him but at this point, he’s also intrigued in what Geralt wants to hide and why the hell it seems to concern him so often. (A certain feeling that shall not be named blooms in his chest at the thought and he squashes it).

Then there’s that one bath. Geralt looks at him as if he was the most fascinating puzzle in the world which, fair, Jaskier is interesting if he does say so himself, but not that much. It’s on that day that he decides to learn that bloody language, even if it’s the last thing he does.

Jaskier goes to Oxenfurt that winter and searches the vast library through and through. The librarians shoot him looks indicating their suspicion about him being a maniac but Jaskier is simply a man on a mission. In the middle of winter, his madness finally bears fruit – he finds an ancient book written in a language he has never seen. “Wiedźmiński bestiariusz” the title says. Inside, there’s a loose piece of parchment with the first few paragraphs of the book translated, including the title – “Witcher Bestiary”. The book is full of sketches of monsters and descriptions, the words containing several strange letters. Many passages aren’t readable anymore because they’ve faded with age but Jaskier treasures the book anyway. He spends the rest of the winter copying all the legible pages, indulging in life’s pleasures much less, which only fuels the rumours of his insanity. All the while, he hopes that this is the language Geralt has been using.

The answer comes surprisingly quickly in the surprising shape of another wolf witcher. They stumble upon each other in late spring in Redania. It’s such a funny coincidence that there’s no way Jaskier’s not going to make the best of it.

“See, master witcher,” Jaskier says as they drink ale together, “When I rummaged through my university’s library, I stumbled upon an interesting volume.” He forgets to mention the translated passages as he pulls out his copy of the book and lays it on the table in front of Lambert. The witcher’s eyes widen when they rest upon the title and Jaskier knows this is it. He grins and carries on, “It seems to be full of precious knowledge and wisdom, yet it’s written in a language I don’t understand. It concerns monsters, so I was hoping a witcher could assist me in decoding this tongue.”

Lambert says nothing for some time, only regarding Jaskier with suspicion. “Why would you want to learn it?” he questions.

“Call it academic curiosity.”

The witcher’s eyes narrow. Hadn’t Jaskier spent so much time with Geralt, he would certainly squirm under the hot, searching gaze.

“It’s not a secret language of your guild, is it?” he asks to break the tense silence.

“It’s not,” Lambert answers, “But no one really bothered before, is the thing. Dunno what to make of you.”

Jaskier sighs and decides to reveal the malice of his intentions because, from what little Geralt told him of his brothers, he knows that Lambert will appreciate it. “Listen,” he says as he leans in towards the red-haired witcher, “just imagine how it’ll freak Geralt out when he finds out.”

Lambert lets out a delighted laugh. “Fuck, I wanna be there when it happens.”

Jaskier can’t make any promises of the sort, so he says nothing to that. Instead, he asks, “Do we have a deal, then?”

“We’ll see.”

Lambert’s reserve didn’t make sense at that moment but Jaskier almost wishes he didn’t find out why the witcher was so cautious about his enthusiasm.

It turns out the language is a demonic creation. Lambert starts explaining some basic words and phrases to him and it already makes Jaskier’s head spin – there are so many forms and conjugations that Jaskier’s task of achieving fluency in that damned tongue suddenly appears almost too daunting. Almost.

He still wants to see the look on Geralt’s bloody beautiful face.

Lambert lets Jaskier join him on the Path for a few weeks. Throughout that time, he teaches Jaskier a bit more, especially how to read in the language. The wonderful thing about it is that, once he knows all the rules of pronunciation, he can read everything out loud. The dreadful thing is that the pronunciation itself is so tough and tongue-twisting that it may as well be a form of diabolical punishment inflicted upon Jaskier for all the transgressions he committed.

Lambert laughs when he voices his frustrations. “Przyzwyczaisz się.” You’ll get used to it, the witcher answers, his voice producing the mad consonant clusters with ease.

“I doubt it,” Jaskier grumbles under his breath.

The two of them part ways as Jaskier pays for Lambert’s services with a song. Jaskier saw the wolf witcher take down a vampire in a truly spectacular manner, so it was no hardship. After Lambert leaves, Jaskier starts learning on his own. Whenever Geralt hunts, he reads out loud from his copy of the bestiary (and how Geralt never overhears it is truly beyond him. Melitele likes him calling upon her tits so frequently, it seems). He tries to decipher the words in the book using all knowledge he has, translating some more passages. He and Lambert also exchange letters but Jaskier fails at writing in the tongue miserably. The last one he wrote returns to him with a multitude of Lambert’s corrections and a short note from the witcher himself:

"Cały list do przepisania, skowroneczku." The whole letter needs rewriting, little lark.

Jaskier huffs at the nickname, ruffling his figurative feathers in indignation. Although a lark’s voice is beautiful, very much so, its plumage is too plain. Jaskier could never. He would be a blackbird at the very least. Or a siskin. A bullfinch, preferably. If Jaskier was honest, a peacock would best fit to describe his exterior, but the sounds peacocks make aren’t pleasant, so he would be willing to settle on some colourful songbird.

Damn Lambert, in any case. The witcher knows far too well how to rile him up. It’s a bit unnerving.

"Skowronek to nie jak ja." Lark doesn’t sound like me, Jaskier answers in the next letter.

"Rzeczywiście, tak ładnie nie śpiewasz." True, your singing isn’t that pretty, Lambert writes back.

Damn him indeed. Jaskier responds to that comment with a simple, efficient “fuck you”, to which Lambert replies “chciałbyś” you wish.

Jaskier can’t exactly deny this. He would certainly show his appreciation for Lambert’s fiery spirit if not for one little, tiny problem. The problem is so minuscule that Jaskier does everything in his power not to think about it. He seeks out lovers constantly and falls into the Countess de Stael’s arms almost every winter. She wants his attention now, as it’s a puppy love no longer, but during his stay at her palace, someone else always catches his attention. She kicks him out the moment she finds out. And so their romance goes, rinse and repeat.

No matter whether Jaskier winters at the Countess’s court, Oxenfurt, or some other place, he always devotes much of his free time to search for any book containing the Witcher tongue, as Jaskier started calling it. There isn’t much anywhere, and Lambert’s letters are few and far in between. Jaskier can feel himself getting stagnant in his learning and he can’t afford it. Not now, after six years of gargantuan effort that he’s put in already. Not when Geralt sometimes says something to him in that quiet, warm voice, and he still doesn’t understand.

Jaskier seems to enjoy more of Melitele’s blessing than he really should because, just when he’s getting desperate, there’s a godsend dropped on his way on a lovely spring day.

Quite literally dropped, since that witcher falls from a tree Jaskier’s about to walk under as he’s on his way to find Geralt. There’s a cat medallion around the witcher’s neck, and his body is gravely injured. He’s unconscious and Jaskier takes the liberty to use his witcher potions to help him not die. After he finally opens his eyes the next day, he introduces himself as Aiden.

It takes Aiden two more days to stand back on his feet. Soon after he manages that, Jaskier makes him trip when he speaks in the Witcher tongue to him, and the poor Cat witcher actually falls to the ground when Jaskier mentions Lambert. Sensing some story there, he sticks by Aiden’s side for a week or two. They make fast friends and promise to write to each other frequently.

Aiden’s letters are just what Jaskier needs to improve. The witcher is more expansive than Lambert and a touch flirty, which is perfect. As their correspondence goes on, Jaskier grows to like him only more and more. Not that much, though; he’s still stuck in the merry old mess of admiration and friendly affection getting out of hand. At least he’s not the only one – the story that Aiden and Lambert share is there in the letters, between the lines, and Jaskier is clever enough to see it.

Jaskier and Aiden meet for a drink in Novigrad once. When they’re deep into their cups, they start whining about their predicament.

“Cholerne wilki.” Damned wolves, Aiden grumbles.

“Cholerne wilki.” Damned wolves, Jaskier agrees wholeheartedly.

Ten years of learning the Witcher tongue have passed when Jaskier finds Geralt fishing for a djin in the lake near Rinde. He’s known Geralt for sixteen years now, so it takes him exactly one moment to see through the sorry excuse of insomnia. Destiny can’t be trifled with like that, he knows, so he doesn’t let it happen.

When Jaskier sings his friend to sleep, Geralt wonders about deserving him, that silly witcher. As if it wasn’t Jaskier who could only dream of deserving Geralt. As if Jaskier wasn’t a cheater, a homewrecker and a bastard who shouldn’t even deserve to look into those warm, gold eyes that allow a peek into the heart of gold.

As they meet Yennefer, the chemistry between her and Geralt is so strong that Jaskier can almost see the sparkles fly. Jaskier holds his breath all throughout their stay in Rinde. After they leave and nothing happens, there’s no relief. Now the witcher and the sorceress can get together any time and Jaskier turns bitter at the ripe, sweet age of thirty-four.

He lets go of many things after that. The silly affair with the Countess, caring about what the educated think about his works. He lives, breathes and grows, at last, fuelled by the one thing that he’s driven by best – sheer, absolute spite. Jaskier’s learnt the Witcher tongue out of spite (among other motives that he refuses to think about), and out of spite he will survive now, no matter how much he worries about a purple-eyes sorceress being such a great match for the White Wolf that even he wants to write a ballad about it.

Jaskier doesn’t ask, of course, and Geralt doesn’t say. They keep travelling together and Jaskier basks in the glory of knowing exactly what Geralt says about him when the witcher thinks he doesn’t understand. It’s wildly satisfying indeed but only up to a point – until the day Geralt calls him beautiful. Jaskier accepts the compliment with a smile, since it is the truth after all, but he can’t trust his voice to answer. He tries to fight the idiotic hope blooming in his chest and blames the warmth in Geralt’s gaze on the firelight. He reminds himself that Geralt doesn’t see him that way because it’s only women that the witcher’s ever been interested in. Life goes on.

Then his world crashes around him as he hears the words about love leaving Geralt’s mouth. That is when he can’t hold it in anymore and his secret is out. Or both his secrets, really.

It’s so freeing that he’s heady. Or maybe the giddiness can be all on Geralt. Or perhaps on the fact that, when Jaskier bares his heart in the Witcher tongue, it touches the witcher’s heart to its very core. He can feel it, in the way Geralt clings to him, and he already knows he won’t find any words to describe it properly in any language he knows.

That's how he knows it's something worth living and loving for - it means too much for words.

***

A/N: Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it! This fic is also available on AO3. Part 3 is coming, hopefully soon. It will be a 5+1 kind of thing about Geralt and Jaskier using the language.

Part 3

#myfic #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #canon divergence

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btxtreads · 4 years

Text

perfectly perfect | choi soobin (4)

part of the arcadia academy series

↳ pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader ↳ word count: 2.1k words ↳ rating: G ↳ genre: Highschool!au, Jock!Soobin, mostly fluff, white prince!Soobin,,, also Soobin lets himself get dragged around a lot, tsundere!Soobin but nothing that’s too much to handle ↳ series: Arcadia Academy

(please also read “Personal Best,” Arcadia Academy’s Beomgyu series by @bffsoobin 💖)

a/n: no updates tomorrow since I have a work thing 🥺 i’ll update the day after tomorrow

Y/N silently sat by the benches in front of the lockers, drying her hair with a spare towel.

Her body was practically swallowed by a gigantic purple hoodie, with CHOI SOOBIN 05 printed in gigantic block letters at the back.

He eyes danced up to the open locker in front of her, frowning at the massive space which was practically a makeshift closet of hoodies, towels and jerseys.

Attached behind the locker door was a collage of photos with Soobin, Yeonjun and Beomgyu—the three best players for the volleyball team and best of friends—with their favorite juniors Hueningkai and Taehyun. His best friends.

Below the collage of volleyball photos was a polaroid photo of Soobin holding a baby, next to a woman slightly older than him.

Y/N reached out and took it, observing.

His smile was different—way more comfortable, more open, more—

“That’s my sister and nephew,” Soobin said, exiting the shower room while drying his hair. “She got a polaroid last month, and I didn’t know where to put it,”

More Soobin.

“Oh,” Y/N replied, setting down the polaroid. “That’s nice,”

Soobin hummed as he reached out and grabbed a folded hoodie off of a shelf in his locker.

CHOI SOOBIN 05.

“How many of these hoodies do you have?”

“Ah, too many,” Soobin shrugged, sliding the hoodie on. “I may have liked them a little bit too much,”

“They’re comfy,”

“Keep it,”

“Okay,” Y/N replied, biting her lip as Soobin closed the locker door and leaned back on it. “So,”

“So?” Soobin asked, raising his eyebrow.

“You smell nice,” Y/N squeaked out making Soobin snort and roll his nice.

“Thanks, pres,”

Y/N cleared her throat.

There was silence between him and her.

The water droplets from the recently used shower room suddenly became too loud.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N started. “I made a scene. Dragged you off in front of a lot of people, even,”

Soobin stayed silent, eyes trained on her as she trailed off.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“You were the only way to make it work.”

“Make what work?” Soobin asked, lips pursed.

“The booth, the cafe,” Y/N shook her head. “You were gone for an hour and everyone was just—they left? Girls kept looking for you, and I thought—maybe you were the only way the booth was going to make it,”

Soobin frowned.

“Y/N, I told you I needed to go to Volleyball,” Soobin said. “I was going to go back, I wasn’t going to leave you,”

“I wouldn’t know, Soobin,” Y/N growled. “You were gone for five whole hours and I looked back up and you were wet and shirtless?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Maybe the fact that you had no thoughts about going back?” Y/N shot back, making Soobin snort.

“How could you know that from just seeing me wiping down a sedan?”

“Maybe because you were thoroughly enjoying the way so many girls were ogling at you,” Y/N glared at him.

“Wh—Are you jealous of them?”

“When did I say that?” Y/N asked, appalled.

“It’s the words and the tone, babe,”

“First of all, you sound like Yeonjun,” Y/N argued. “Second of all, that doesn’t make any sense,”

“Yes, it does,”

“No, it doesn’t,” Y/N spits out. “Besides, I’m not your girlfriend, or friend, or anyone—why would I be jealous?”

Soobin stopped, narrowing his eyes.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“I’m hurt,” Soobin scoffed. “For someone so smart, you’re pretty oblivious,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N sputtered out.

Soobin only rolled his eyes.

Y/N scoffed back and crossed her arms.

“Well, for the volleyball prince of the school—you’re not so white prince right now,” Y/N hissed. “Or the whole day today, for that matter. At least to me,”

Soobin rolled his eyes again.

“What’s so hard to understand, pres,” Soobin sighed. “about how I am not a white prince, or volleyball prince, or whatever,”

“Okay, volleyball prince,” Y/N snorted.

“I literally just said I’m not the volleyball prince,”

“Yeah? Well, for some reason,” Y/N huffed. “people keep saying that you are,”

“Yeah? Then, for some reason,” Soobin raised his voice. “You keep driving me crazy,”

Y/N froze, sputtering.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t get you out of my fucking mind these days and it’s driving me insane,” Soobin said, shaking his head and stepping forward.

Y/N squeaked stepping back as Soobin edged closer and closer.

“For some reason, you’re always there telling me to be Soobin, not the volleyball prince. For some reason, you make me so comfortable I actually forget where I am sometimes,” Soobin said, pressing against Y/N until her back is against the lockers.

He leaned closer, his head lowering until his lips brushed against hers.

“For some reason—” He trailed off, looking at her eyes.

Y/N took a shuddering breath, her eyes dropping down to his lips before returning her gaze back on his brown eyes.

“For some reason, what?” she asked silently.

Soobin only smiled, pulling on the laces of her hoodie.

The cloth tightened up, bunching around her face and covering her line of sight.

Y/N squealed as she reached up to smack his shoulders, hearing him laugh and feeling him back off of her.

She doesn’t know why she was a little disappointed.

“For some reason, I like how I don’t have to be anyone but me when I’m with you,”

Y/N pried the cloth off of her face and looked over at Soobin, whose back was turned on her and one hand shoved in his sweatpants.

“Now, come on,” he said, his free hand reaching out and clasping on her wrist. “Time to run a cafe,”

With a red face, Y/N followed him out.

She didn’t find it in her heart to comment about his equally-as-red ears.

It was four hours to closing time when the cafe closed up itself, having ran out of products to sell.

Y/N and Soobin made their way out of the financing office, having released their declared money for the booth.

“Well,” Soobin rocked back on his heels. “I should get back to the car wash,”

“I’ll take you back,” Y/N smiled over at him. “I did promise Yeonjun I was going to bring you back in one piece, anyways,”

Soobin rolled his eyes as Y/N led the way out of the school and into the parking lot.

Just before the car wash was a small arcade set up by the women’s volleyball team.

Arcadia Arcade, it read.

Soobin turned to Y/N with a smile.

“Hey,” he started, pulling Y/N off to the road away from the school. “Come with me,”

“What?”

“Just follow me,”

Y/N rolled her eyes, walking next to him.

“Sorry about taking so long, by the way,” Soobin said, pocketing his hands. “I should’ve came back to you earlier,”

Y/N turned back to him, smiling slightly as he kept his gaze firmly trained on the path ahead of them.

“It’s fine,” Y/N hummed. “Not your fault,”

“But it is,” Soobin said before taking her wrist again and tugging her towards a huge, noisy building.

It was the local arcade.

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to protest as Soobin pulled out a ten-dollar bill from his pocket to exchange for tokens.

She still gaped as Soobin dragged her towards the basketball machine with a mischievous giggle.

“I’m gonna teach you how to shoot a basketball,” He declared.

Y/N slammed a hand on his arm, making him flinch.

“You have to get back to the volleyball team, remember?”

“Screw that, Yeonjun will be fine,” Soobin waved nonchalantly as he fished a token from his small bag of tokens. “Now, come on!”

A shrill whistle sounded before Soobin took her and pressed himself behind her back.

“Okay, so get a ball,” Soobin instructed and put a basketball in her hands.

“It’s heavy,”

“Well, it’s basketball,” Soobin laughed before positioning his hands over hers. “You shoot—like this—and you let go—“

Soobin burst into laughters as the basketball fell from their hands, not even touching the net.

“Like that, but better aim,” Soobin laughed again, an arm falling on Y/N’s waist and looking back down at her.

Y/N’s hand reached up to touch his on her waist.

“Soobin,” Y/N started, looking up and locking gazes with him.

“Yeah?”

Y/N stopped, her eyes falling to his lips, vaguely aware of how he was slowly moving closer and closer.

She didn’t notice before but he was really attractive.

His black hair wasn’t made up now like it usually was—but somehow he made it work.

His lips were so pink and plump and he was getting so close that Y/N only needed to move her head and kiss—

GAME OVER.

Y/N flinched and Soobin practically fell back as the basketball machine flashed 0 POINTS.

“Ah, we didn’t get to score anything for thirty seconds,” Soobin winced, slotting another token into the machine and shooting basketballs himself.

Y/N leaned on the machine, smiling and observing as Soobin kept on shooting—every single ball effortlessly passing through the hoop.

“Hey, why are we here?”

“Hm?” Soobin asked, looking at her as he shot another ball. “Oh, I saw you looking at the arcade in school and thought, hey why not?”

“There’s an arcade at the school, you know,” Y/N pointed out. “We could’ve went there,”

“That arcade was for babies,” Soobin snorted. “This is a bigger, better arcade,”

“Are you just saying this because that specific arcade was set by the female volleyball team?” Y/N chuckled as Soobin’s game finished.

He narrowed his eyes and scoffed.

“That has nothing to do with it,”

“Never knew the prince could be this petty,” Y/N laughed, turning around to walk towards a claw machine. “That’s cute,”

“The doll?” Soobin asked, following behind her and looking over at a Mollang doll smack dab in the middle of the machine.

“No, you,” Y/N laughed, amused at how fast Soobin’s face burned red. “But yes, the doll too,”

“Move over,” Soobin coughed, hiding his blush as he gently pushed Y/N out of the way and inserted tokens into the machine.

“Hm? Are you getting the doll for me?” Y/N teased, making Soobin shake his head again.

“Nope,” He huffed. “Just—uh, Hueningkai likes Mollang and you said it’s cute so he must like it,”

“Ah,” Y/N laughed.

It took him around three more tries until he finally got the doll.

“Well,” Soobin said, clearing his throat as he held it up. “It doesn’t look cute,”

“Yes, it does,” Y/N snorted as she pointed at the blue cloth around it. “Look at that pink collar, it’s so cute,”

“Not cute enough,” Soobin shrugged before thrusting it over to Y/N, his face red as he turned his head away from her. “Ah, take it,”

Y/N raised her eyebrow.

“You said it was for Hueningkai,”

“He won’t like it, it’s not cute enough,” Soobin muttered, burning brighter.

“Right, well,” Y/N smiled, taking the doll. “Thank you, Soobin,”

Soobin turned even redder when Y/N reached up on her tip-toes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Cool,” Soobin coughed and turned away, much to Y/N’s amusement. “Let’s play zombies,”

It was almost 9 in the evening when Soobin decided they should go home.

Like before, Soobin insisted on bringing Y/N home.

“It’s really dangerous, you know,” he coughed. “night time,”

The walk to Y/N’s house was smooth and enjoyable—the conversation goes every which way.

As soon as they stopped in front of her house, Soobin bit his lip as Y/N turned to him.

“Want to head inside?”

“No,” Soobin shook his head. “It’s late and I should get home,”

“Hm,” Y/N nodded. “Well, thank you for today,”

“Right,”

“And the hoodie—I’ll give it back tomorrow,” Y/N said.

“Ah, I said keep it,” Soobin shook his head. “It’s cute on you,”

“Ah,” Y/N nodded. “Well, the doll. Thanks for the doll,”

“Your welcome,”

“I enjoyed the arcade.” she smiled. “I can’t remember the last time I did something fun without thinking about how I should have been using the time to improve my college application,”

Soobin smiled.

“You’ll do great trust me,”

“Right,” Y/N nodded awkwardly. “Well, good night, then.”

“Good night,” Soobin nodded as Y/N turned to enter her door. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Y/N turned to see Soobin right behind her.

Swiftly, he leaned down and planted a fast peck on her lips.

He pulled away and coughed, scratching the back of his neck.

He bolted out of the driveway and down the street, face bright red.

Y/N’s hand slowly crept up to her lips, and she smiled.

No matter how fast that kiss was, she can’t help but notice how soft his lips were.

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ghostxofxartemis · 3 years

Note

John x Ashley: hugging for too long?

Thank you for submitting this amazing prompt! Not only did I manage to get a birthday fic done for John, I also managed to fit this in! From this prompt list! Fic also available on AO3.

A huge thank you to @bardofheartdive for beta reading for me! You are simply amazing!

Happy Birthday, Shepard!

Shepard is sitting at his desk in his cabin in the Normandy SR1. His chair is hard, uncomfortable, his back is sore, though that’s the least of his concerns; he feels like it should be Anderson in here and not him. His mind is unfocused, his thoughts keep going back to their mission on Feros a few days ago. The Thorian still churns his stomach as he remembers how it was controlling the colonist. It’s not the only thing keeping him distracted, there is an awful lot of commotion coming from the mess hall just outside his cabin, making it difficult to finish his report from their mission on Elatania this morning; those space monkeys were just a pain in the ass to deal with. Having Ashley and Liara giggle away at him while on all fours didn’t exactly help with his mood either. He’s certainly not feeling like someone who spent months and months on end through a grueling program to achieve N7, but more like a serviceman grunt at this moment.

"What in the devil's work is going on?!"

Frustrated, he flicks his stylus onto his desk, then stands up, makes his way to his door and steps into the mess hall. He’s not one to usually lose his temper, but the persistent migraine he’s had the last past two days after receiving the cypher on Feros has been driving him insane. The commotion was just making it worse, souring his mood that much more.

There is an unusually large crowd, most of whom should be working, gathered around the tables. Plates, cups, bottles of varied drinks, beer, and bowls full of different snacks were set on the tables.

Ashley and Kaidan are at the kitchen counter, their backs facing him. They are in the middle of sniggering at something Shepard clearly missed out on.

He walks up behind them very quietly, his head peering over their shoulders.

"What are you two doing?"

Ashley yelps, dropping her spatula. Kaidan jumps slightly at the unexpected visitor, face turning red from embarrassment, his expression resembling that of a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar, knowing very well they aren't supposed to do that. Looks like two squadmates forgot they have an infiltrator among them.

Ashley turns to face Shepard, a guilty look on her face, icing splattered on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

Shepard's breath hitches, his heart skips a beat or several for that matter, and his lips twitch upwards into a half-smile. Just when he thinks she couldn't get any more adorable, she somehow manages to prove him wrong at every turn. His mind races, thinks about all the things he would very much love to do to her, then forces them back down just as quickly, out of mind. He's not that guy anymore, if he's to be with Ashley, he is going to do it right this time. Though… something tells him she wouldn't mind too much. First, they have to get rid of a little problem, a Rogue Spectre problem.

Shepard looks at her sheepishly.

"Chief… you got….er," Shepard clears his throat, "you've got icing on your face." He points in the general vicinity of her face.

“Oh!”

Ashley wipes the back of her hands, also covered in icing, against her cheeks, resulting in an even worse smear than she had just moments ago.

“Did I get it?” She asks him, her eyebrows furrowed together.

His grin widens just a fraction more, breath caught in his chest. He can feel his cheeks turning a little pink. He reaches for a napkin on the counter, then lifts it up to her, raising an eyebrow.

“May I?”

Ashley’s cheeks turn a bright pink, her eyes take on a look of utter embarrassment as she nods at him.

“Where did you learn how to bake, Ash? Normally you put the icing on the cake, not bury your face in the container,” he teases as he wipes the icing with the napkin off her face.

“My mom and I would bake cakes together for every special occasion. Birthdays, holidays...you know.”

Shepard throws the dirty napkin in the trash, “Question still remains...why are you and Alenko baking a cake?”

He looks around, still confused. He certainly doesn’t remember giving everyone permission to gather around. He isn’t opposed to down time, but there have to be at least a few people manning stations. Was there a special occasion he was unaware of?

“Shepard, it’s your birthday…” Kaidan says incredulously. Wondering how someone could possibly forget it’s their birthday.

“Wha…?” John squawks, now he’s the one with the incredulous look on his face. He checks his omni-tool, hoping this is somehow all a big joke. When he notices the date his eyes widen, and he mutters something under his breath that sounds along the lines of “you’re shitting me.”

“It’s April 11th… your birthday…” Alenko drags the last two words like it’s the most obvious thing in the whole galaxy.

John crosses his arms across his chest, and shifts his weight onto his hip. His M.O. that he’s about to be stubborn and stand his ground.

“That’s nice. But I don’t celebrate my birthday. So clean this mess up, and get back to work. That goes for everybody,” he says as he uncrosses his arms, turns on heels to make his way back to his cabin. Instead, he comes face to face with a seven feet tall wall...a krogan wall to be exact. Wrex had come up behind him, blocking his way.

“Out of my way, Wrex.”

Wrex growls, Shepard’s scowls.

If there’s one thing that puts a sour taste in his mouth, it is people wanting to celebrate his birthday. He hasn’t celebrated since he was five and that’s simply because his mother was still alive that year. After that the birthday celebration ceased to exist, other than occasional shots he’d share with fellow soldiers, and wasn’t going to start now.

“Anderson told us you might object so... Wrex here volunteered to be your personal bodyguard for tonight,” Alenko smirks and John balls his hands into fists, nails digging in his skin because he’d rather feel that pain than punch his friend in his smug-faced expression.

John inhales loudly, he’s about to argue until he thinks better of it. He really isn’t in the mood to go head to toe with a Krogan at the moment. He uncurls his fists, exhales while throwing his arms up in the year in exasperation.

“Fine!”

Engineer Adams cracks a beer bottle open, and hands it to Shepard with a sheepish look on his face. Shepard growls slightly before muttering a barely audible “thanks.”

“Chief, just one request… no candles”

“I make any promises, sir.” Ashley gives him mischievous smiles. Shepard shakes his head before turning away to make his way to the table and sits next to Tali who seemed to be overjoyed by seeing human customs for the first time.

~~~~~~~

Ashley waits until Shepard finds a seat next to Tali at the tables before she turns around and picks up the spatula.

“Great, the icing is ruined now’” she grumbles.

She feels Kaidan elbowing her just a bit. She looks to see him with a coy smile on his face.

“What?” She demands, one eyebrow raising to her hairline.

“Nothing,” he shrugs and takes the spatula from her hand.

“You’re withholding something.” She sneers at him.

“Me?!” Kaidan feigns innocence. “I would never!”

Ashley rolls her eyes and snatches the spatula from Kaidan and washes it. It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for, she thinks to herself.

“I think the icing is fine, chief.”

“It really isn’t. Has to be perfect and there’s a spot missing icing and since someone sneaked up behind us, it’s going to be tricky to get it right without messing the rest of the icing.” She sighs as she dries the spatula with a dishcloth.

“I didn’t take you for someone who demands perfection.”

“Really?! Have you seen your pistol, LT? Has it ever been in any better condition until I started taking care of it?” She scowls him.

“Good point.”

Ashley sighs.

“Why don’t you let me give it a try.” Kaidan offers her a hand.

“I...oh alrighty.” With resignation, she sighs louder as she hands him the spatula and takes a couple of steps to the side to give him room.

Kaidan eyes the cake for a moment before scooping up more icing from the container. He feels Ashley’s hot breath down his neck.

“Chief. I can’t focus while you’re breathing down my neck.” Kaidan looks down at her with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry! Okay. I won’t watch.” She sucks in her breath as she puts her hands over her eyes, though peaks through her fingers. She rolls her bottom lips between her lips, a nervous tell.

Kaidan chuckles, shaking his head, slaps on the icing, and follows the trajectory that Ashley was doing earlier, somehow even making the icing look smoother than it had when she had done it.

“Is it done?!”

“It’s all good.”

Dropping her hands, she inspects the cake, a sly smiling making its way at the corner of her mouth.

“Not all heroes wear capes! Now, where’s that candle I had brought up earlier?” Before she can even look for it, Kaidan lifts up the candle to her eyes. She snatches it and places it next to Shepard’s name on the cake.

“I hope he doesn’t kill us. I am pinning this on you if he gets even more in a soured mood. Everyone should get to celebrate their birthday. You know what Anderson told me, last time we were on the Citadel?” She looks up to Kaidan, her eyes now distant deep in thought.

“No. What did he say?” Kaidan asks her, curious.

“The Skipper skipped out on his own birthday dinner with Anderson last year. Just no show. Anderson asked him about it later and the skipper just simply said ‘he didn’t feel like celebrating another year of making it out alive’.”

Kaidan’s mouth gapes open, and he closes it just as quickly. No words come out. Ashley couldn’t blame him. She had had the same reaction when Anderson had told him.

“Anyways. Let’s go give him his cake.” Carefully, Ashley lights the candle with a lighter and picks it up while Kaidan picks up the cake they made for the dextro-amino crew mates and they make their way to the table while singing ‘Happy Birthday Shepard.’

Ashley’s gaze locks in with Shepard’s, his cheeks turn red and she feels hers heat up, forcing her to look away embarrassed. By some miracle, she manages to get the cake in front of him and chuckles when he covers his face with both his hands and mutters “for the love of God” at it.

“I told you I made no promises.”

“I know!” He grunts behind his hands before rubbing his face and blows out the candle.

“Now you get the honors of cutting, commander.” Kaidan smirks as he puts down the cake for the dextro.

“Yeah, no thanks. You know what,” Shepard picks up the cutting knife and hands it over to Dr. Chawkas, handle first, “why don’t you do me the honors, good doctor.”

“Oh, Commander. I couldn’t.” She lifts her hands and shakes her head.

“Please. I insist. This is already too much.” Shepard levels the knife in his hand, giving her a sly smile.

“Well, in that case,” she sighs.

While Dr. Chawkas cuts the cake, Shepard hands her the plates and she lays them on the table for anyone to grab until both cakes have been symmetrically cut.

“So, Tali, I’m curious,” Ashley says as she slides in the seat next to Shepard and takes a bite from her cake in hand, “how do Quarians celebrate birthdays?”

“Well. Quarians are only allowed one toy as personal possession while we’re children, and on our birthdays we part with them for us to get a new one.”

“Wait? You only get one toy?! Do you get to choose what it is at least?” Ashley asks Tali, perplexed.

“Oh yes! We do get to choose among what is available, but we don’t always get what we like. We just have to make do. With limited space, we can’t get too choosy. That’s why on our birthdays we get to choose who gets our old toy, and we get to pick another one from what’s available in the storage.”

“Like a hand-me-down.” Ashley says as she licks her fork. She catches Shepard shuffling in his seat next to her in her peripheral vision, his hands grab hold of fabric from his trousers and he adjusts them slightly, pulling down on them. It took everything she got to resist looking down at him to see if she had managed to get a reaction out of him. She smirks. She reaches for an opened beer bottle on the table and opens it, gulping a good draft from it.

Ashley puts her bottle down on the table. “My parents couldn’t afford much on my father’s salary, so often, whatever I didn’t use anymore would get passed down to my sisters. But my parents always made sure we got something new for our birthdays. Something we wanted.”

“Right. Something like that. But it wasn’t new.” Tali agreed.

“Heh! You humans and Quarians are soft. On our birthdays we drink ryncol and blow things up.” Wrex’s booming laugh shook the table.

“Remind not to give you ryncol while on my ship,” Shepard shakes his head.

The thought of the ship blowing up while they were in space was not a comforting one. How would he explain that one to the Alliance? Ashley could only imagine how the conversation would go for the Skipper’s side. Yeah, my krogan passenger decided to light the Mako on fire and send it off through the cargo door while it was still down, is probably what he would say.

“Relax Shepard! After a few hundred years you don’t really care about celebrating anymore.”

Ashley feels a shift beside her. Skipper. She gets a whiff of his musky scent mixed with cedar as he stands up and moves behind her to make his way to the counter. Her heart skips a beat, his signature scent always seemed to get her all warm inside. How can people not smell him coming? He just smells so good. She locks eyes with Kaidan who sits in front of her and feels herself starting to blush. Kaidan's eyes tell her he is on to her. Is she that obvious of her feelings for the Commander? Oh Gosh, what if Kaidan reports her? No. She tries to put those thoughts out of mind.

Kaidan clears his throat, and he pulls her back to the present. Maybe she was panicking for no reason after all.

“Now’s probably the time to give him what you got him, while he isn’t at the table,” he whispers. The others are too immersed in conversations to pay attention to the two of them.

Ashley exhales deeply. “Right. Well here we go.” Standing up, she picks up the gift bag she had tucked under the table, and somehow Shepard had completely missed, at least, she thought he did and made her way to the skipper.

Shepard’s back faces her and she inhales before she taps him gently on the shoulder. He looks back to her while washing his hands.

“Williams.”

Ashley lifts the bag to him. “I...er… I got you a little something. Picked it up last time we were at the Citadel.”

He turns his head away from her, hiding his expression, and for a moment she thinks she has overstepped and maybe made a grave error. He dries his hands on a dishcloth before he turns completely to face her.

“Ash. You really didn’t have to do this. All this.” He looks back to the table where his crew conversed with one another. She could hear them laughing.

“Skipper. Really. It’s no big deal. In my family, we always celebrate everyone's birthday. It’s important.” She reaches her arm out towards him more, insisting he takes it.

Reluctantly, he does. Slowly, he opens it up and takes a peek inside. He reaches inside with one hand and pulls out a weapon upgrade. An eyebrow reaches his hairline as he inspects it.

“How on Earth did you manage to get your hands on a Scram Rail X?! I thought only the Spectre Requisition officer had time in stock?”

“A girl needs to keep some secrets, now. Doesn’t she?” Ashley gave him a coy smile.

“Fine. Keep your secrets then Williams.” He returns her a smile. “Thank you.”

Ashley rocks on her toes and points to the bag. “That’s not all. There’s more inside”

“Ash…” Shepard rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. A tell-tale sign he was feeling a tad uncomfortable. He places the Scram Rail X onto the counter and looks back down to the bag. Ashley’s heart sinks a little when she remembers he’d been orphaned so young. Has he never celebrated his birthday before?

She waves him off. “Come on. Open it,” she urges him while bouncing on her toes.

Sighing, he reaches down again and this time pulls out a box. He places the bag onto the counter and inspects the contents in his hand.

“How-” His eyes widen, “how did you manage to get your hands on a WWII A-26 Douglas Invader aircraft model?!”

Ashley shrugged her shoulders.

“A girl has her secrets.” Shepard chuckles as he repeats her words and gently puts down the model box onto the counter.

Ashley suddenly gets pulled into a hug. She hadn’t expected this. For a moment she’s shocked, but it doesn’t take her long to return the hug and they hold onto each other tightly. She feels him bury his face in her hair. She feels him shake against her slightly.

“Is it that bad?” She chuckles nervously as she rubs his back. She knows she should pull away, that this is against protocol, but she doesn’t care. There is just something about being in his arms that makes her feel at home and her heart sinks a little. She can’t imagine not celebrating the birthday of someone in her family. Every year, she and her sisters would always send vidmails to her father who was posted somewhere, eventually her sisters did the same for her when she joined the Alliance. In fact, she knew she would find one in her messages in a few days for her birthday. Shepard… Shepard has no one. He spent most of his life alone on his birthday.

She rubs her face against his chest to wipe the tears that escaped her eye and trails down her cheek.

“No. Thank you, Ash. No one’s ever given me a gift quite like this one before.” He mumbles against her head.

She hears footsteps coming up from behind her. She can’t tell who it is as her face is still buried up against Shepard. All she can smell is Shepard’s musky scent mixed with cedar, and she lets herself get lost in it. No care in the world, just the two of them at this moment, and she can count on her fingers how many times she has wished for this since he had shown interest in her and admitted he had feelings for her.

Someone clears their throat behind her, bringing both her and Shepard back to the present and they separate. Shepard looks away, wiping his face with the back of his thumb.

“I don’t mean to interrupt this moment, but I don’t want anyone making any fraternization complaints, Commander.” Ashley turns to face the owner of the voice and sees Kaidan cleaning some of the dishes. She rubs her forehead with a hand.

“We weren’t...there’s nothing between us, I mean.” She starts to panic.

“Don’t worry chief. I didn’t see anything. It’s a birthday after all.” Kaidan reassures her as he picks up the dishcloth and dries the dishes.

Shepard picks up the mod and hands it over to Ashley. “I trust you’ll take good care of this.”

“You bet, Skipper. The targeting system will be ready for our next mission. Sir.” She says as she picks it up and places it in her pockets.

Shepard gives her a wink before heading back to sit down next to Liara who sat with the others, yet still managed to be distant from them, this time.

Ashley feels a hard elbow to her ribs, and grunts. “What?!” She looks hard at Kaidan, trying to read his mind.

Kaidan gives her a coy smile, his eyes twinkle with mischievousness Ashley didn’t think was possible for the goody two shoes Kaidan. He brings both his index fingers together and moves them around against each other, “Williams and Shepard sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Horror struck, her eyes widen and her cheeks turn red, but what horrifies her most is that her eyes meet with Shepard’s and his eyebrows are raised quizzically at them’ his head slightly tilted to the side. He definitely saw something.

“You’re blushing, Chief. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re the same colour of beets right now.” Kaidan chuckles as he crosses his arms and leans up against the counter.

Groaning, she buries her face into her hands. “Oh dear, God. Shoot me now! This is your fault!”

“Hmm. I did no such thing.” Kaidan shuffles away and Ashley scurries to grab a plate of cake and a couple more beer bottles to bring up to Joker up in the cockpit to get away from everyone for a moment. She just barely manages to see someone placing a party hat on Shepard and immediately thinks who did that is a dead man or woman.

~~~~~~

Shepard currently finds himself alone in the mess. Everyone has either gone back to their post to work or gone to bed. Shepard sits against the cupboards, he is holding his model box in hand, inspecting the box and reading the description. A couple of empty beer bottles are at his feet, a freshly opened one beside him.

“It’s not going to bite you know.”

He looks up to find Ashley standing in front of him.

“I know’” is all he says. He tilts his head slightly to his left, an invitation for her to sit next to him. She does.

“You ran off pretty quickly there earlier. Everything alright?”

“Yeah.” She shuffles a little and gets comfortable. She leans her head against the cupboards. “So who’s the dead one?” she asks him.

“Huh?”

She points at the party hat. His eyes follow her fingers.

“Oh! Crosby.”

“Is he cleaning head?”

“Oh, definitely on latrine duty for two weeks. He just doesn’t know it yet.” Shepard chuckles.

Ashley snorts.

They fall into companionable silence for a while.

“So. Whose idea was this anyway?” Shepard finally asks her after a few moments.

“LT’s and mine. Ander-”

“Anderson told you guys about last year, didn’t he?” He finishes her sentence for her.

Ashley chews on her bottom lip before nodding.

Shepard sighs and gently puts down his box between his legs and reaches for his beer. He is just a little upset with Anderson now, but he knows the man only had good intentions in mind. He always does when it comes to Shepard, and Shepard knows this very well. Ever since they’ve known each other, Anderson always has his back. He is the closest thing to a father Shepard would ever have.

“He said you haven’t celebrated your birthday long before he even met you…” She stops there. Shepard knows she is holding back what she wants to say.

He takes a good draft from his beer. He isn’t sure if it’s because he wants a drink or needs to calm his nerves for what he is about to say.

“I haven’t celebrated since the year my mother was -” He hesitates.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

Shepard feels a sudden weight on his shoulders and something tickling his cheek.

His eyes dart to his shoulder and he sees Ashley had let her head fall onto his shoulder. He brushes the free strand of her hair away from his cheek and tucks it behind her ear, brushing her cheekbone with his fingertips as he does so.

“She was brutally murdered, you know. I was five. Watched the whole thing happen. He didn’t even know I was watching. Hidden inside my closet.”

“Skipper, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” Ashley wraps her arms around his closest to her and holds him close, tightly. She intertwines their fingers together. He doesn’t protest.

“That was the last year we celebrated my birthday together. Wasn’t anything big, we didn’t have very much, but it was her and me and that was all that had mattered to me. Once you’re in a gang, you’re just a number to them. A tool. Birthdays don’t matter then.”

“But they matter to me. And you matter to me- us. So from now on we celebrate your birthday. Whether you like it or not.” She jams a finger against his bicep then goes back to hugging his arm.

“Hah! I guess I don’t have a choice in the matter?” Shepard chuckles.

“Nope. Not this time.”

“That’s okay. I believe I have a few days left to plot my revenge?”

“You wouldn’t?!” She gasps slightly.

“You’re probably right.” Shepard shrugs nonchalantly as he takes his party hat off and slides it on Ashley’s head. He stares down at her plump lips and leans down toward her slightly. She tilts her head backwards, reaching out slightly, closing in on the distance. The smell of alcohol permeates the space between them as they inch closer and closer to each other.

At the last second Ashley’s eyes widen just a fraction and she pulls away, red in the face.

She clears her throat while she jumps to her feet. She rubs her hands on her fatigues as if to dust them off. Shepard notices the bit of nervousness coming from her. “I...er… I have some weapons to check out. I should get back to work. Wouldn’t want them to malfunction while on a mission. Sir.” She starts to walk away and takes the party hat off, holding it close to her chest.

“Ash?” Shepard calls out and she stops dead in her tracks. She turns around to look at him.

“Sir?”

“Thanks, and... er… sleep well, Williams” His lips curl up into a shy grin.

“Happy birthday, sir.” She turns on her heels and makes her way toward the lift.

“Goodnight Williams.” He says more to himself than to her for she had already rounded the corner and no doubt was already in the lift making her way down to the cargo hold.

From this prompt list! Fic also available on AO3.

#Commander Shepard #John Shepard #Ashley Williams #JohnxAshley #Pre-Virmire #Birthday Party #Birthday Cake #beginning of romance.#dr-ladybird #urdnot wrex #tali'zorah #kaidan alenko

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non-nu · 4 years

Text

you’re my answer [1] | wonwoo

↠ pairing: actor!wonwoo x manager!reader

↠ genre: secret relationship, actor au

↠ word count: 1.8k

↠ warnings: mild cursing

↠ synopsis: y/n is living out a peaceful existence as the manager of top actor seo jisoo. but all of that changes when jisoo is forced into a fake relationship with her costar jeon wonwoo. thrown together in this bizarre situation, y/n quickly discovers wonwoo isn’t what he portrays himself to be. things get even more complicated when y/n starts to fall for wonwoo.

↠ character profiles ↞

↠ masterlist ↞

“We never should have gone to that hot pot restaurant,” you sigh as you place your phone down in your lap.

“I didn’t think their food was that bad,” Jaebum replies from beside you. You turn to him with a disapproving expression that quickly shatters into a grin when you make eye contact.

“You know what I’m talking about,” you nudge his arm at his widening smile. You let out a short chuckle but fall silent as your mind returns to what you had just been reading. Seeing the worry on your face, Jaebum grows serious.

“More articles are coming out, huh?”

“People are going crazy,” you show him the latest comments on your phone, “Jisoo and Wonwoo have been trending for the whole afternoon. All because of these rumors.”

“You know how it goes,” Jaebum offers some encouragement, “Everyone will forget about it by tomorrow morning.”

“Tell that to Ms. Kim. She’s already asked us to come in for a ‘chat’. I’m going to get an earful and then some.”

Before Jaebum can reply, the door the two of you are sitting next to opens. Jisoo steps out of the practice room followed by her vocal coach, a slightly older woman who is speaking enthusiastically.

“Jihoon is one of the biggest producers right now. You’re so lucky to be working with him,” she gushes.

“Oh really?” Jisoo attempts to inject a modicum of interest in her voice, but you can tell by her expression that she’s losing her will to be polite, “I don’t follow the music industry so I don’t know his work.”

The other woman clucks her tongue and a wistful expression comes over her face.

“The opportunity is wasted on you. I should have gone into acting, then maybe I’d have a shot at a singing career,” she pushes out a harsh laugh and motions in your direction, “Better yet, I should have become a manager. Then I’d get to meet all kinds of celebrities just by driving someone around a couple hours a day.”

Yeah, it’s so great my film degree didn’t work out. The words almost tumble out of your mouth, but you catch yourself.

“It’s a pretty sweet deal,” you reply instead with an awkward laugh.

“Yup, she’s my glorified chauffeur,” the sarcasm behind Jisoo’s comment does not register with the older woman as she lets out another round of laughter. You, Jisoo, and Jaebum all exchange glances as her outburst goes on for a bit too long.

“But you know,” her tone becomes serious as she regains her composure, “would it be too much trouble to pass him my demo when you’re in the studio?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jisoo places a hand on the woman’s shoulder as a farewell and begins to walk down the hall swiftly. You and Jaebum bid her goodbye as you follow close behind.

“By the way, Jisoo!” she calls from down the hall as you wait in front of the elevator, “Why don’t you bring Wonwoo around next time?”

“Isn’t there another vocal coach in this city?” Jisoo mumbles as the elevator doors open.

Jisoo has already started her tirade as you put the keys in the ignition.

“In the first place, why am I even featuring on this track? Whose idea was it to put that in my contract? And second of all, how much free time does the company think I have anyway? Making me spend two hours a week with that horrible gossip. All she has me do is run scales half the time and the other half she’s asking for an autograph from this actor or that singer. Wasting my time. It’s not that hard to string a couple notes together in the studio.”

“Oh, is it not? Someone should let Park Hyoshin and Sohyang know.”

Your joke breaks Jisoo out of her ranting mode as one corner of her mouth sneaks up.

“I know it’s shitty, but it’s not worth it to get worked up because of that woman,” you reason with her as you merge onto the main road, “If that’s how she copes with the disappointment of never fulfilling her dreams, shouldn’t we let her have that much?”

A brief silence falls over the car and your heart clenches as you realize what you’ve just said.

“Damn. You really said it.” Jisoo says in an appreciative yet slightly shocked tone while Jaebum lets out an extended “ohhh” behind his hand.

At their reactions, you mentally kick yourself for managing to put your foot in your mouth yet again. You quickly back track.

“No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant…Really, I-”

Jisoo stops your floundering with a knowing wave of her hand.

“We know,” she reassures you, “I’m sure you meant it to be empathetic, in your own twisted way.”

“You don’t have to call it ‘twisted’…” you mutter but relief quickly washes over you at her words of understanding.

“I don’t know why you try so hard to be agreeable. I think you’re much better this way.” She makes the comment absently while looking out the window.

“You’re unique in many ways, Jisoo.” you tease.

“Oh, but I wish I could be there the day someone lets her have it. She will literally implode.”

“I don’t know if I’d wish that on her.”

“Always the pacifist.” Jisoo says in mock disapproval.

“Some people would say Y/N knows to pick her battles.” Jaebum chimes in and you wave an approving finger in his direction.

“I’m saving my energy for the lovely conversation we’ve been called in to have.”

“God, don’t tell me we’ve finally been summoned by Ms. Kim,” Jisoo cries out in exasperation, “Why do we have to get dragged out because people can’t keep their minds from going crazy with wild fantasies? What’s she going to tell me, anyway? I shouldn’t go out to eat because you never know if you’ll happen to run into another actor?”

You and Jaebum brace for the incoming spew of words and frustration.

“In the first place, what’s the big deal? So we ate at the same restaurant. Who cares? People eat at the same restaurant all the time. There were dozens of other people at the place, too. Am I dating all of them?”

“The rumors started more from the fact it happened three times. Within a month.” Jisoo dismisses Jaebum’s words with a flick of her wrist.

“Also because you’re about to shoot a movie together. Literally tomorrow.”

“Even if we were dating, what’s so interesting about that? It’s my business and it doesn’t belong on the front page of a trashy website that mistakes click bait for journalism.”

“In a way, she should be grateful you and your new movie are getting this much media play already,” you ponder as you pull into a space in the company parking lot.

“Any publicity is good publicity.” Jaebum offers as you unclick your seatbelts.

“Let’s get this over with.” You sigh as you head towards the imposing concrete building.

“She’ll see you now.” Ms. Kim’s assistant walks up to where you had been waiting in the lobby. She motions for you and Jisoo to follow her.

“You can wait here.” She speaks to Jaebum who remains seated.

Her heels click neatly against the perfectly white tiles as she leads you to the main office on the floor. She swings the glass door shut behind you as you enter the pristine room.

Ms. Kim is sitting at her desk with a document in hand. She doesn’t look up, but motions for you two to sit in the metal chairs on the other side of the table. The room is thick with silence aside from the occasional rustling of sheets as she turns a page. You’re examining a twisted glass statue on her bookshelf when Ms. Kim finally places the papers down. She clasps her hands together on the table and slowly turns her gaze up towards you and Jisoo.

“We’ll release an official statement in a few days,” she delivers the edict emotionlessly.

“A few days?” you repeat in confusion, “Don’t we want to stop this before things get out of hand?”

“And why would we want to do that?”

“Because” Jisoo seems shocked she has to clarify this point, “Jeon Wonwoo and I are not dating.”

“Well, now you are.”

You both know the severe woman before you is not the joking type, but Jisoo snorts a disbelieving laugh anyway. You’re met with impassive eyes as the two of you wait several seconds for her to clarify or take it back.

“No.” Jisoo returns the woman’s icy stare, “This is absurd. Do you actually realize what you’re suggesting?”

“I do. And it’s not a suggestion.”

You sense Jisoo bristle at that statement.

“Just what makes you think I’ll go along with this insanely unethical plan of yours?”

“Don’t be naïve, Jisoo. You’ve been in the business long enough to know this is hardly uncommon.”

The two continue to lock stares across the table for several heated seconds. With a sickeningly fake smile contorting her face, Ms. Kim continues to speak.

“If you don’t like it, of course you have the right to break your contract. But I’m sure we’d all hate to see you tangled up in court for the next five, six years.”

You’re well aware her threats are not unfounded. Everyone had read the stories. An endless legal battle and a couple vicious rumors could end anyone’s career. And it would be all business as usual for Ms. Kim and the company.

At this point, you can practically feel Jisoo vibrating in the chair next to you, her temper about to boil over. You had seen her mad, but never like this.

She had trekked a long path to get to where she is now, but you sense she could be capable of turning her back on it all just to throw it in the publicist’s face. When she inhales sharply, you jump to cut her off.

“What do we need to do?”

Ms. Kim keeps her gaze fixed on Jisoo a moment longer before giving you a quick glance. Her eyes linger less than a second before she begins shuffling through the papers on her desk.

“We’ll be in touch with more information. You may go.”

“Ok. Thank you.” You stand up in a hurry but Jisoo stays put, fists clenched tight in her lap.

“Jisoo,” you whisper tentatively, “let’s go.”

Her eyes are daring the woman seated across the table to acknowledge her. Having said her piece and gotten the desired response, it’s like the two of you no longer exist to Ms. Kim who continues to review the documents before her.

“Jisoo,” you place a hand on her shoulder, “There’s nothing we can do right now. We need to leave.”

Jisoo could probably sit there all night, she’s stubborn enough. But instead she slowly releases the tension in her body with a shaky exhale before rising to her feet. Her mouth remains pulled into a deep frown as she stomps out of the room in silence.

↠ a/n: wow. i meant to post this sooner but got super busy😖anyway, the next part is underway and our main man will finally make an appearance! i’ll post it as quickly as i can. in the meantime, lmk what you think so far😊thank you for reading 🌻

#wonwoo fic #wonwoo scenarios #svt fic #svt scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt #kpop fic

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shakespeareanwannabe · 4 years

Text

Heartbeats

Santiago Pope Garcia x F!OC/Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Rebecca Cooke

Summary: A first date at a Beer Garden shouldn’t be difficult to manage, especially with his team at his side, but Santi still has doubts.

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Benny being Benny, references to war time injuries, references to Anxiety if you squint

A/N: Hey y’all. Sorry it’s been a while. Some stuff came up, but I am so happy to finally have this chapter out to you all! Anyway, this is chapter 3. Please enjoy!

**********

Listening to his own heartbeat had become something that Santi was pretty comfortable with. When the Humvee had hit a landmine during his first deployment, sending him, Frankie, and Will sky high, he’d woken up in a military hospital in Germany, with only the steady beeping of his heart monitor to keep him company. Well, it kept him company until Will wandered in with a cup of coffee. The youngest member of the team had somehow managed to walk away with a couple of cracked ribs and some scarring on his back, whereas Pope had fractured his knee and given himself a pretty nasty concussion. At that point, Frankie was still out. He had broken a rib, punctured a lung, and fractured his hip, all on top of a nastier concussion than Pope’s. There was a harried moment when they thought he wouldn’t make it, but Fish was the toughest bastard out of any of them, and within nine months he was patrolling the desert with Santi once more.

After various near-misses, his multiple knee surgeries, and his so-called miracle neck surgery, Santi woke up to that same sound of his heart beating. It reminded him that he was alive. It was a comfort.

Now, his heart was beating so loudly in his ears he couldn’t think straight. And, the kicker was, he wasn’t even in country or recovering from a near miss. He wasn’t getting shot at or sneaking around an enemy compound. He wasn’t even sitting in the back of a helicopter while Fish tried to fly it over the fucking Andes while carrying too much weight and, fuck, he was an idiot. He hadn’t even been able to pull off a ‘sure thing’ mission. He hadn’t been able to pull of a relationship with a girl that everyone thought he was fucking anyway. Why the fuck did he think he would be able to pull off impressing this much younger woman who, for some god forsaken reason, thought he was worth her time?

Rebecca was a professional. She had a fucking Masters of Fine Arts that she used to lead tours and co-curate the art museum while also teaching art lessons to kids all across the state. And then there was him. Santiago Garcia. A washed up, beaten down, half-broken retired soldier who was living off his (not unsubstantial) savings and the kindness of friends, who had almost no prospects other than signing another damn contract and going off to shoot questionable people under the orders of even more questionable people until his knees gave out or he broke his fucking neck running around on favela rooftops. She was so far out of his league, he had no clue how to even find her league.

And yet, he found himself sitting outside her apartment in his truck, about to go and buzz up to let her know that he was there. Early. To pick her up. For their date. What was he thinking?

He was shaken out of his negative reverie when his phone buzzed four times in quick succession.

“I swear to god, if you’re sitting outside her apartment deliberating over actually picking her up or standing her up, I will drive there myself and beat some sense into you.”

“Hey man, Charlie’s had a little too much to drink (first weekend alone without Mateo) and she’s threatening your manhood if you stand up your date. Do not show up here alone, cabrón.”

“Dude, you’re bringing a date? Why haven’t I heard about this lovely lady?”

“Ignore him. He’s drunk.”

Pope could imagine his friends, his team, sitting around their reserved table at the beer garden, acting like millennials with their phones out, texting him and ignoring each other for a moment. They were insane…He loved them.

“Keep your shirts on, I’m coming.” He copied and pasted the message into the four separate threads and sent them off, ignoring when his phone buzzed again with what could only be a “That’s what she said” reply from Benny as he exited his truck and made his way to her lobby door.

He pressed the small white button next to her name and waited impatiently for her response.

“Hello?” the tinny machine garbled, but he had become accustomed to her voice. It was quickly becoming one of his favourite sounds, like the sound of the waves at the beach or the sound of his own heartbeat. Soothing.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, c’mon up! I’ll be ready to go in five!”

Santi gulped then shook his head and pulled the door open when the lock clicked, signalling that she had unlocked it for him. What was he nervous about? He was god damn Delta Force. Some girl should not be shaking him up this bad.

Santi took the short elevator ride up to the fifth floor, trying to calm his hammering heart, and knocked on her door.

When the door creaked open, he was reminded that Rebecca Cooke wasn’t just ‘some girl’. He had taken one look at her, sweaty and red faced and face distorted from pressing into a massage table and been smitten. Every conversation he had with her dragged him further in, until he was hooked.

Now, standing in front of him, dressed in a sapphire blue lace dress that swished around her knees, he was smacked in the face with the fact that she was, in fact, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. The short sleeves showed off the smoothness of her arms and the V-neck had him having to drag his eyes away from her décolletage.

“Hey Santi,” she smiled gently at him, moving in to place her hands on his shoulders as she placed a hesitant kiss on his cheek.

“Um…hey,” he replied, mentally kicking himself for being so lame. “Uh, these are for you.” He handed her the bouquet of wildflowers he had bought on a whim on his drive over.

Rebecca smiled up at him, a slight glimmer in her eyes as though he had just made her the happiest person on the planet. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he blurted. She giggled, turning her back to him and he grimaced at the stupid cornball line.

“Let me put these in some water and grab my shoes, and we can go, okay?” she called back. He looked towards her retreating form and gulped at the sight of her bare back. Fuck, this was going to be a long night if he couldn’t get himself under control. If he was going to actively pursue Rebecca, he was going to do it properly.

“Uh, yeah. No worries.” He followed her a few steps into her home and peered around at the small space. It was a small apartment, cozy and warm. A suede sectional sofa overtook most of the living room, a soft looking throw blanket tossed over the side and brightly coloured patterned pillows were piled up on one end as though she had been searching for something. A variety of prints and pictures decorated her walls, everything from the infamous Kissing on VJ Day photo to a print of San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk by Monet, drawing his eye from one frame to another in rapid succession, drinking in the little details of the life she lived that he so desperately hoped to be a part of.

“Ready to go?”

His eyes were drawn back to her like magnets as she exited the small but spacious kitchen, glass vase in hand. She deposited the vase with the wildflowers on the side table next to the sofa, picked up her purse and held up her other hand, a pair of strappy sandals hanging from her finger.

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. It’s a, uh…it’s a nice place you’ve got here,” he managed to get out, cursing himself internally at his stupidity.

She smiled sweetly at him, that starry-eyed look still in her eyes as she clutched his arm to slide her sandals on.

“Thanks. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

She didn’t release his arm as they exited the apartment, clutching him close as she locked the door, as they rode the elevator, and exited the building. He shifted carefully to grip her hand and help her into his truck, closing the door softly behind her as he paced over to his door, silently coaching himself to not be a total idiot on this date.

She was into him. Holding onto his arm, looking at him the way she was. She liked him. All he had to do was not screw it up…and not let his friends screw it up.

He hauled himself up into the driver’s seat of the truck and let it idle for a minute as he double checked his mirrors. Finally, he pulled out of the parking lot and began the ten-minute drive to the Beer Garden.

“I, uh, I meant what I said. About your apartment. And about how beautiful you look. Because you do. Look beautiful, I mean. That dress is…nice.”

“Thanks.” An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and Santi fidgeted with the wheel. He was halfway to convincing himself that this whole thing had been a bad idea when she turned to him. “Are you as nervous as I am?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathed, causing her to giggle. “I swear to god, I’m not normally like this.”

“I know, that’s why I asked! I thought you were either really nervous or completely regretting asking me out,” she sighed, leaning back in her seat as the tension began to slowly dissipate.

He waited until he pulled up to a red light to turn and meet her gaze. “The only regret I’d have is if I didn’t ask you out at all and was left wondering what might have happened if I’d just gotten my balls up and asked.”

He watched her eyes widen as she looked down at her lap, jerking the car back into motion as someone honked behind him.

“Can I confess something to you?” She waited for his nod. “I had a shot before you got to my place to try to calm my nerves, but I don’t think it worked. I just…why are we nervous? We’ve been friends for a couple of months now, right?”

“Right!” he exclaimed, laughing as he risked another look at her. “I don’t know, Bex. Maybe that’s why we’re nervous?”

She shrugged delicately, pulling her legs up into the seat as she twisted to watch him drive. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just…I really want this to go well, you know?”

Santi took a hand off the wheel and reached out to squeeze her hand. “I know. I really know.”

She sighed, twisting her hand in his grip until she could interlace their fingers. “Okay. So. We’re two friends. Going on a date. We’ll just…see how it goes, okay? At the end of the night, if we decide we’re better off as friends, you drop me off, give me a high five, and we’ll see each other on Monday at the clinic.”

“But?” he asked anxiously because, like he said, he knew. He knew how badly she wanted things to go well because he desperately wanted the same thing. He’d been drowning in her for months, and he felt like he was just now being taught how to swim.

“But…” he heard her take a shuddery breath. “But if things do go well, and I really hope they do, Santi…If things go well, we agree to go on that coffee date before our sessions on Monday. Deal?”

He squeezed her hand again. “Deal.”

**********

The Beer Garden was a nice place. A solid first date choice. There was liquor to settle the nerves, incredible food to snack on over conversation, a live band to dance along to, mood lighting, and an outdoor patio with fairy lights that was pretty fucking magical, if Santi was allowed to say so.

He and the team had been there once or twice, usually after completing a room at Santi’s house, but this was the first time both Charlie and Frankie would be joining them, since Mateo was off for a sleepover at Grandma’s house. In a way, Santi was grateful. Rebecca knew Charlie, and Charlie was very protective of her patients both inside and outside of the clinic. Santi knew that Charlie and Frankie would help make her feel welcome. Will wouldn’t be an issue. But Benny…when the kid drank, he drank hard, and he was a loudmouth stone cold sober. Hopefully, Will would be able to keep his kid brother in line.

Santi slowed as he felt the distance between him and Rebecca grow, their arms growing taut until he was forced to stop and turn around, lest he let go of her hand.

“Hey, you okay?” he moved to stand in front of her, shielding her from the busy wait staff and slightly drunken customers who were milling around the door to the outdoor patio.

She offered him a distracted nod, her free hand coming up to smooth her hair behind her ear. “Uh, I’m just gonna…” her eyes widened slightly as she caught sight of Charlie sitting at a long picnic style table with a bunch of large men. She met his eyes urgently. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom.”

Again, Santi found himself watching her retreating form as he cursed his own actions. He thought that having a group hangout would be a good idea for a first date. It kept things loose and informal and, after their conversation in the truck, he thought it couldn’t hurt to have some people there to help things continue moving in the right direction. Besides, so many people had group first dates. It kept things light. Only, now Pope was seeing his mistake. He wasn’t just introducing Rebecca to his friends. He was introducing her to the most important people in his life. His closest friends. His team.

“Fuck…” he mumbled to himself as he watched her duck into the bathroom before nearly sprinting outside to the table. He dodged a few waiters and barbacks before slamming his hands down on the table, causing Benny to jump. “She’s in the bathroom, Chuck, don’t start,” he quickly stated, watching as Charlie’s eyes went from murderous to understanding in the space of a blink. He slowly met each and every one of their eyes. “If any one of you motherfuckers ruin this for me, I swear to god I’ll find a way to end you.”

“Hey, I like her already,” Charlie shrugged, tipping her glass back to swallow the last of the foam. “If you ruin this with her, I’ll be the one ending you.”

“Noted. Fish?” His best friend cocked an eyebrow at him and Santi nodded, communicating in that way that only best friends can. “Fair enough. Will?”

“Hey man, I just came out for a drink.”

“Yeah, I know,” he conceded, before fixing his eyes on the youngest member of the group. “Benny?”

“What? What am I gonna do?”

“Considering you’ve stared at every waitress’ ass as they walk by, and commented on two of the barbacks’ butts, I’d say you’re definitely the problem here, Ben,” Charlie commented lightly, leaning over to rest her head gently on Frankie’s shoulder, smiling softly when he planted a sweet kiss on her temple.

“Hey, I—”

“Shut up, she’s right,” Will growled into his glass.

“Fine, I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Charlie, did you collect on your little workplace bet?” She offered him a slightly drunken thumbs-up. “Good, you’re buying.” Pope considered the table before him before straightening and taking a few steps back towards the door. “Please, just be nice?”

“Hey, I’m always nice!” countered Benny, a cocksure grin on his face.

“Yeah, that’s what he’s afraid of, dipshit.”

The din of another Miller argument faded as Santi returned to his post just in time for Rebecca to emerge from the bathroom.

“Uh, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Santi wrapped his arm around her shoulder as he led her out onto the raised wooden patio. “You’re still nervous, huh?”

She nodded hesitantly. “Charlie’s fine, but the rest of your friends…”

Santi tugged her gently to the side and pulled her to a stop.

“Don’t worry about them, okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “Santi, you fought a war with them. That’s not something I can just not worry about.”

“Look, they’re gonna love you. Trust me…” he looked over his shoulder to peer at his friends, who were all surreptitiously trying to both look at them and look natural. “They’re idiots, but they’re my idiots. Look…see that blond guy? That’s Will. You could set a bomb off next to him and he wouldn’t flinch.”

“Oh, so that’s Will the Wise?” Santi smiled at the moniker. He’d found himself dropping some of Will’s more memorable motivational quotes during physio, and she had come up with the name for his quiet but forceful friend. “And the one who hasn’t stopped staring at my ass is Benny, I assume?” Santi whipped his head around to see Benny subtly trying to peer around him to get a glance at Bex’s profile. He quickly moved into his field of view and turned his back on him. Benny wanted to check out a nice ass? He could feel free. “And I know Charlie, which makes the quiet one…?”

Santi smiled softly. “That’s Frankie.”

“I like him already.”

His smile grew at the pronouncement. “I figured you would. Frankie’s good people. Easy to get along with. Now, please don’t worry?” he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before running his hands up and down her arms soothingly. “They’re gonna see exactly what I see.”

“Which is?”

He smiled. “A stunningly beautiful, intelligent woman who I somehow suckered into going out with me. Ready?”

She gripped his hand again and smiled up at him. “Ready.”

**********

Things were going…well. Better than Santi had dared to hope. He didn’t know what Will had said, but Benny was being a real gentleman and keeping his mouth shut other than asking polite and interested questions about Bex’s work. Bex and Frankie had taken off like two peas in a pod, which gave him a warm feeling in his chest that he dared not name. Not now, anyway. Instead of examining his feelings, he decided to go get another drink.

He stood slowly, squeezing her hand when the angle got too awkward to maintain contact, and leaned down to ask, “You want another one, Bex?”

She smiled and nodded, “Yeah, would you mind getting me a pale ale this time?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up!” Benny interrupted, leaning across the table towards them. “She got a nickname?”

Santi shot Will a look, but the older Miller just held his hands up in surrender, as if to say, “You brought it on yourself”.

“I-is that a problem?” Rebecca asked, looking around confused.

Frankie leaned forward, resting his free arm against the table and adjusting his grip around Charlie’s waist. “Every one of us has a nickname,” he explained quietly. “For us,” he gestured to the men. “It’s a military thing. Kind of like a right of passage.”

“I earned ‘Charlie’ after three months of seriously dating Frankie,” Charlie added, her voice only slightly muffled from her cheek resting on Frankie’s chest. “Chuck came three months after that, and then only Santi gets to call me that.”

“Oh…” Rebecca murmured, wrapping her arms around herself and looking around the table at the demolished plates of nachos, chicken wings, sliders, poutine, and potato wedges. Santi quickly retook his seat, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

It had been instinct, giving her a nickname. Rebecca was too formal for the spitfire who made him laugh so hard his abs hurt more than his knees after a physio session. Becca was cute but she had grimaced at the name, citing overuse in popular culture for her dislike. Rebbie made her snort, and Becky made him want to go find Douchebag Derek and give him a swift kick so there was no way his DNA would be reproduced.

She had loved the name Bex. It was rare, it was quick, it denoted her spark and her wit, and, best of all, he was the only one who used it. Now, it looked like she was feeling insecure in it.

“Frankie’s nickname is Catfish,” he piped up, not wanting her to think too much on the subject of him giving her a cute moniker so early in their relationship (week 3 to be exact).

It worked. Her head whipped around so quickly both Charlie and Santi winced.

“Really? Why?” she asked the man sitting next to her.

Frankie’s quick glare and microscope cock of the eyebrow went unnoticed by the entire table, except Santi, who gave him an apologetic half shrug.

“When we were in basic,” he began with a good-natured grumble. “We were all swapping stories one night, and the only good one I had was the one where my old man and I went out fishing together.” Rebecca watched as Charlie placed a small kiss on Frankie’s chest, just above the third highest button, where Frankie had evidently decided to quit, not that his fiancée was complaining about the excess skin on display. Clearly a sore subject, Rebecca filed away for later. “We went all day without catching a single fish, but just as we were about to call it quits, there’s a tug on my line. And I ended up reeling in a 17-pound catfish.”

“Last time you told the story it was 15 pounds,” Will muttered.

“I always heard 13,” Benny laughed.

“Eh, whatever. It was a big fish to 10-year-old me, okay?” Frankie downed the last of his beer. “Besides, it’s not as stupid as how Ironhead got his name.”

Santi laughed. “Oh, that’s a good one.” Will glared at him. “Hey man, Frankie told his story, now you’ve gotta tell yours.”

Will sighed as he sat forward, leaning in towards Rebecca. “So…I was probably the clumsiest private in basic training. Now, I could do push ups and sit ups like a champion, but the more complicated exercises…Well, let’s just say our drill sergeant didn’t know what the hell to do with me. Climbing a rope ladder? I’d get my foot twisted and end up hanging there like three-day old laundry on the line. Going on a march through the woods? I’d find the only rock in the road and trip over it. Field striping a rifle? I’d yank on something too quickly and give myself a black eye.” Rebecca giggled, bringing a smile to Santi’s face. “And inevitably, every time I screwed up, I’d end up smacking my head. One day, we were doing this exercise and I really got my bell rung. Our drill sergeant sent me to the infirmary because he knew there was no way in hell that I didn’t have a concussion. But I didn’t. Hell, I didn’t even pass out. When he found out, he was shocked. Said I must have the hardest skull on earth. Thus, Ironhead was born.”

“Pfft…” Benny snorted loudly, the sound breaking through Bex’s giggles and Charlie’s muffled chuckles. “It’s not even a good story, man! I coulda told your drill sergeant that you were clumsy as fuck the day you enlisted! Now, Pope’s…that’s a good fucking story,” he guffawed, leaning back as far as the bench seat would let him.

“Benny…” Will put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, which was quickly shrugged off. Santi fixed him with a glare, and Frankie was subtly drawing his hand over his neck, but Benny was too drunk to care.

“Pope?” Bex looked up at Santi confusedly, but he didn’t get the chance to explain before Benny’s crowing laughter boomed out once more.

“‘Oh god, oh god! Yes god! Yes! Please, god. Por favor, mi dios! Oh my god, oh my god!’,” Benny’s voice rang out in a poor imitation of a girlish squeal. He threw his head back and laughed drunkenly, almost falling off the bench seat. “We thought for sure that Corporal had to have the Pope himself in her room for her to be screaming for God that loudly. But no. Turned out to only be Santiago Garcia, known almost exclusively as Pope from then on out.”

Bex looked between the two men, eyes wide, before standing and squeezing out into the crowd, heading back towards the bathrooms.

“At least I got a nickname, jackass,” Santi hissed, kicking away from the table. “I didn’t spend my whole military career known only as ‘Will’s Little Brother Benny’.”

Santi turned and chased after Rebecca, praying she hadn’t gone too far.

“What? What did I say?” Benny asked, half a potato skin hanging out of his mouth.

“If this fucks them up, I’ll kick your ass for both of them,” Charlie groaned, unable to take her eyes away from where her two friends had just disappeared.

**********

He found her standing under the strings of lights that hung above the front door.

“Y-you weren’t thinking of leaving, were you?” he asked in a slightly trembling voice.

She turned to him, eyes bright, and chuckled. “No…I just needed some air. Well,” she looked around the darkened city street. “Some different air. Front fresh air instead of back fresh air. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged out of his jacket and gently placed it over her shoulders as she shivered. “I…I’m sorry about Benny. He’s an idiot most of the time, but when he drinks…”

“He could win the Nobel Prize for Darwinism?”

He chuckled, a soft smirk appearing on his face. “Yeah, something like that.” They stared up at the dark sky for a long moment, a hesitant peace falling between them. “That story he told…I’m not exactly proud of the way I used to be. I hope you know that.”

Rebecca shrugged delicately. “We all have a past. We all have things we’re not proud of. What matters is who we are today. And you want to know something?” she looked up at him with those eyes, and he pressed down the urge to kiss her.

“What?”

“I really like who you are today,” she whispered, bringing a smile to his face.

“I really like who you are every day,” he whispered back, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, his smile growing even larger when she leaned into him. “You ready to get out of here?”

She wrapped his jacket tighter around her body. “Yeah, it’s getting a little chilly.”

He nodded in agreement, gave her a quick squeeze and released her. “I’ll go grab my wallet and we can get going.”

Santi wove his way back through the crowded Beer Garden until he reached the table, quietly scooping up his wallet.

“Everything okay?” Frankie asked quietly as Charlie dozed on his chest.

“Yeah, tell your firecracker that she doesn’t have to kick any asses. See you tomorrow?” Frankie nodded as Santi pulled out a crisp twenty and threw it on the table. “Adios, hermano,” he murmured, bringing his hand gently down upon Frankie’s cap and giving his head a slight jiggle. “Will, can you get me that info on that electrician?” Will nodded as Santi clapped a hand down on his shoulder, bringing his hand up to gently clasp his buddy’s forearm before Santi removed it to give Benny a quick swat on the back of the head.

“Hey!” Santi fixed him with a glare. “Yeah, okay. I deserved that. Night man.”

Santi strolled out of the restaurant, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw Rebecca, wrapped in his jacket, staring at the restaurant doors, waiting for him. That warm feeling in the pit of his stomach came back full force, and, for the first time, he didn’t want it to go away.

**********

His truck quietly slid into a parking spot out front of her apartment building.

“Well…” she murmured. “I guess this is me.”

Santi nodded, a sigh building in his chest. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t want a simple dinner date to end, but he wanted it to continue. He wanted to keep talking to her, keep listening to her, keep touching her.

“I’ll, uh…I’ll walk you to the front door,” he stated, desperate to stretch their remaining few seconds as long as he could.

She smiled and waited as he made his way around the front of the truck, opening her door and offering her his hand. They strolled the maybe twenty paces to the front door and stopped, turning to face each other while their free hands sought each other out.

“I had a really nice time. Your friends are great. Frankie’s awesome.”

“He really is.”

“Well…uh…good night, Santi.”

“Bex?” he tugged slightly on her hands, so she remained facing him. “I…” That warm feeling in his stomach burst. “Oh, fuck it,” he pressed forward, planting his lips on hers the way he had been imaging since he had picked her up four hours previous. Sweet and tender, raw and full of something that would go unnamed for a while but had so much potential. He pulled back for the space of a breath, taking in her closed eyes and slightly parted lips. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

Finally, her eyes opened. “Don’t stop,” she quietly pled, freeing her hands to place them on either side of his face, tugging him back to her lips.

They stood there for what could have been minutes or hours, neither knew nor cared. It was like every moment of their friendship had been leading them to this moment, and they wanted to live in it forever.

It wasn’t until the nearby sound of a fire truck siren starting up broke the serene quiet that they broke apart.

“So, uh…coffee on Monday?” she asked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips plump.

“Definitely.”

**********

Tags list: @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @eternallyvenus, @rae-rae-patcha, @himbopoes, @sophoclese, @phoenixhalliwell, @buckstaposition, @who-talks-first

#santiago pope garcia x oc #santiago pope garcia x rebecca cooke #not another fairytale ending fic #first date fic #series #triple frontier fanfic #frankie catfish morales #santiago pope garcia #oscar issac #pedro pascal #slow burn #but its not that slow

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galactic-magick · 4 years

Text

Road Trip: dad!Patton x Reader

Request: You’re dad!patton stuff killed me last time with how cute it was. Maybe more dad!patton and uncle!sides fluff?

Summary: You and your dad Patton go on a road trip along with the sides.

Words: 1200+

Warnings: none I think

Author’s Notes: This is honestly more humorous than fluffy but I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @luluwinchester @nerve-ous-love @zarieslayer

“Alright! Everybody in the car!” your dad Patton calls, loading the last suitcase in the trunk. He invited all the other sides to come with you on a little road trip to a nice place with lots of forests and mountains. You’re all going to have to squeeze into the minivan for a few hours and hope you don’t drive each other insane.

Logan gets in the driver’s seat because he doesn’t trust anyone else to navigate and Patton takes shotgun. You sit between Virgil and Roman and Remus and Janus take the back.

“Can I have the aux cord?” Roman asks.

“Absolutely not,” Virgil grumbles.

“Why not? You’re just going to have your headphones on the whole time anyway,”

“Well yeah but you’re also going to be singing really loud-“

“Not to worry everyone!” Patton pulls out a pack of CDs, “I brought my best collection of road trip music that I’m sure all of you will like!”

“Great job, Roman, now we’re stuck with dad music,”

“Hey! My dad has decent taste in music!” you say.

“Of course he does, Y/N,” Janus chuckles.

You’ve been on the road for a while now and everyone’s mostly settled down. Virgil’s looking out the window and hasn’t spoken much more. Roman’s chatting with your dad and occasionally Logan will add something in. Janus has been fairly quiet as well but tries to keep Remus entertained enough to not want to jump out of the car.

“Hey Lo could we make a pit stop?” Patton asks.

“No. We’ll get there faster if stay on the road,”

Virgil slips off his headphones, “Come on man, really? We won’t even take that long,”

“Alright, fine,” everyone cheers and Logan pulls into the next gas station.

Remus climbs over everyone and starts shrieking and running around the parking lot, “Hey guys, you ever wonder what would happen if you drank gasoline?”

“NO,”

You and Patton go in the store to grab some snacks while the others have stretching and bathroom breaks. You pick out everyone’s favorite candy and chips and put it in the basket. Logan’s patiently waiting outside the car for all of you to come back.

A couple more hours pass, and it’s starting to get dark. You’re beginning to get suspicious about what’s going on because it wasn’t supposed to take this long.

“How are we not there yet?” you ask.

“I promise you, I have followed every direction exactly. We will be there soon,” Logan replies.

“But Google maps said it was only going to take three hours…and it’s been five,”

“Nonsense. Maybe it wouldn’t feel like five hours if we hadn’t stopped,”

“Dude, it was only fifteen minutes,” Virgil points out. “Maybe they’re right. The GPS could’ve glitched or something,”

Roman bursts out laughing, “Ha! I can’t believe you got outwitted by a map!”

“I did not!” Logan pulls over so he can investigate. The GPS appears to be working fine, the battery is charged and it’s connected to the correct satellites. Why’s there an issue?

Janus coughs, “Would this be a good time to tell you that I switched the location at the gas station?”

“You did what?!”

“You are so stupid!” he cackles. “The town I switched it to has the same name but it’s in a completely different state! And you fell for it!”

“But Janus…” Patton looks at him disapprovingly. “I thought we agreed we were going to have a good ol’ family vacation,”

“Come on, it’s funny,”

“I’ll say!” Remus laughs. “We’re in the middle of nowhere! Let’s get naked and run into the forest!”

“NO,” Everyone scolds in unison.

You open the window and look around, “What are we gonna do, dad?”

“I don’t know honey,”

“Do you realize how far we are from civilization? Do you expect me to sleep out here?” Roman yells at Janus. “I refuse to get my beauty rest on mud!”

“Suit yourself, mud beds sound great!” Remus grins.

“Alright, enough,” Logan turns off the car and opens the door. “The situation is far from ideal, but we can figure it out. It’s pointless to drive to the nearest hotel, so I suggest we camp out here tonight and drive to our real destination tomorrow morning,”

“Camp out?! But we didn’t even bring tents!” Roman objects.

“No, but we can make them. We have blankets and can find some large sticks,”

Virgil’s eyes widen, “You’re kidding right?”

“I’m completely serious. I have read quite a lot about basic survival in the wilderness. I’ll take care of building a shelter and how about the rest of you work on making a fire,”

“Um…I don’t think any of us know how to do that,” you mumble.

“Simple. Find some rocks and a variety of sizes of sticks and logs and we’ll light a match to it,”

“Where are we going to get big logs from?”

“I brought an axe,”

“Excuse me?”

“I like to always be prepared,”

You and Patton set off to get the wood, since surprisingly he knows how to chop things. You find a small tree and he starts cutting it down and you gather some other sticks.

“I’m so sorry this happened honey, I know you were looking forward to this vacation,” he sighs.

“Dad, it’s okay,” you smile. “I’m still having fun and we’ll still be able to go to the cabin tomorrow, right?”

“I hope so, kiddo,”

When you go to meet everyone else, Logan and Roman have created an extravagant campsite. Roman insisted on making it look amazing even though Logan was only concerned about the essentials, but it certainly paid off. There’s a few mini tents set up and the start of a small fire.

You and Patton lay down the logs you cut on top of the kindling and help the others finish setting everything up. Remus refused to help make a tent since he wants to sleep straight on the dirt, Janus is starting to look a bit uncomfortable, and Virgil looks very uneasy.

“Hope you’re happy, Janus. We could literally die out here,” Virgil sneers.

“I’m actually…not,”

“Well…good!”

Janus winces, “I didn’t mean to ruin everyone’s vacation. I just thought it would be a little funny…”

You walk over to him and sit next to him, giving him a smile, “It was funny. But I’m glad you’re apologizing, I know you don’t do that much,”

“Who said I was apologizing? I’m just sick of seeing everybody upset,”

“Sure,”

“Alright everybody!” Patton shouts, getting everyone’s attention. “We’re all set up and got our fire! You know what that means!”

Virgil shakes his head vigorously, “Oh no, please, no-“

“CAMPFIRE SONG!!” Patton grins. “Let's gather 'round the campfire, and sing our campfire song! Our C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G song!”

“You’re going to wake up bears of something!”

“And if you don't think that we can sing it faster then you're wrong! But it'll help if you just sing along!”

Roman and Remus join in, “C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G song! C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G song! And if you don’t think that we can sing it faster then you're wrong! But it'll help if you just sing along!”

You nudge Logan and Janus, “You gonna join?”

“Of course,” Janus rolls his eyes.

“You know I don’t sing, especially not ridiculous songs like this,” Logan reminds you.

“Come on, please?”

All of you stare at him, “Fine. Just this once,”

Everyone joins in this time, the night completely quiet except for your voices, “C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G song! C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G song! And if you don’t think that we can sing it faster then you're wrong! But it'll help if you just sing along!”

#patton sanders x reader #sanders sides x reader #patton sanders #sanders sides #ts patton

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facelessfrey · 4 years

Text

Roswell New Mexico Season 2, Episode 13

- I’m sure that wasn’t supposed to be comedy but I literally laughed through most of that and I’m still laughing at the last scene. I can’t. I just...I can’t. I mean what the fuck even was half of that?!?!?

- I mean that episode was WILD. I don’t even know where to begin. This is going to get long...you are forewarned.

- Let’s start with the EXTREMELY RAPID conclusion of last week’s mortal peril. Yep....let’s just do some CPR...not even have to break out the alien defibrillator powers and oh look Max is just fine. I mean...thank god cause I could not go through a repeat of last season although...considering the last scene...that might be preferable. (I’m still laughing...like full on cracking up and my roommates probably think I’m nuts). Then we’ve got Liz dumping the contents of some top secret recipe giant ketchup bottles on the alien console and oh...yep....melted. Glad that crisis was averted. Then we have some random shots of people going to the hospital and oh look...everyone’s alive and fine except...Jesse Manes. I mean...don’t get me wrong...he’s a monster and I’m not sorry he’s dead by my god what a pitiful end to a character that should have been a really good villain but instead was a guy who limped around in the background most of the season until suddenly in one episode it turns out he had been putting together a dastardly plan to show the aliens as the monsters they are and then murder them....sure. Why not?!?! Well...I guess it’s nice that that barely three episode arc of Gregory Manes wanting to stand up for Alex got some closure. I just...it’s so dumb!!!!

- Oh wait...I forgot...not shocking cause it was literally two seconds, but hey...Helena randomly went back and saved Charlie and proceeded to yell at her for getting chained up and not leaving while she freed her. Cool.

- Right...so that’s all wrapped up in the opening five minutes...let’s just move on...we’ve got a lot of other insane junk we have to throw into the next 35 minutes. Yep...still laughing.

- Let’s just kick things off with Michael and Maria...and now I’m laughing again. I did ask the show to prove me wrong earlier today and well...I mean....they half did?!?!?!! Except it was literally insane so I don’t even know what to say. So...Maria’s just fine cause you know she was only half alien so that’s cool and great and then oh wait...she just happens to have a magic plot box dropped off by Mimi. Thanks Mimi...you still have no real purpose in this story except to occasionally move the plot forward but thanks for the box. But Michael doesn’t trust Mimi’s plot hints so he doesn’t want to open the box. Instead....he goes to hang with Alex and they destroy the shed together, which admittedly was a very nice scene and totally gave me Stendan in Dublin vibes and I quite liked it.

- But it was also all so they could find a literal skeleton under the floorboards. Gotta get those callbacks in eh? Hahaha. And of course it’s Tripp! Who else would it be? And of course...he’s got the magical key so it turns out Mimi really is tuned into the plot and read ahead in the script and knew that box would be important! So back to Maria he goes after having this super cathartic scene with Alex that tied into their emotional past together. I mean...par for the course...and I was fully ready for the whiplash that was going to make me crazy and you know...I was not disappointed because they started out being all “hey I love you” and I was like “eye roll knew that was coming” but then! She just up and breaks up with him because that’s what you do after a mutual I love you that’s based on zero relationship development over the past twelve and a half episodes. And once again...I am laughing.

- I mean...I’ll say this...I’m glad it was her that broke up with him and in part because she totally knows he’s in love with Alex and we have been saying that literally all season so like I’m glad she noticed. But I literally died when she was all “I’ve learned so much from this relationship”. What?! What did you learn? Did you get motivation in your script direction that we weren’t privy to because I still have literally no idea what either of you were supposed to be getting out of that relationship but hey...who cares cause it’s over now and Maria just decided that so it’s all fine. No heartbreak there. And you know...Michael seems totally cool with it. Barely even put up a fight. Hahahahaha. Again...I can’t.

- So then we go back to Alex and Michael and Isobel who is all of a sudden team Malex this episode when previously she was inventing emojis for Michael’s Maria hearteyes so yeah...all of this is just really confusing. But hey! The box has Tripp’s journal in it and descriptions that make Michael squirm but also....Tripp and Nora’s love was...wait for....COSMIC! Hahaha. Oh this show. It’s drunk on it’s own absurdity. So anyway...we’re filled in on the rest of Tripp and Nora’s story...well...sort of. We know she tried ice cream and liked it and there was talk of the mystery bad man that wasn’t Noah but uh...more on that later. Haha. Well...I guess we know Harlan killed Tripp and we unfortunately saw Nora die so that’s a wrap on the 1947 flashbacks I guess?!?! Sure.

- Oh god and the song...since we’re on Malex anyway. I mean...I liked the song and yeah....he got all the references in there. I never look away...cosmic...sure. And I knew once Forrest was there that kiss was going to happen but my god...are we really setting up season three where now Alex is the one in a random relationship and Michael is trying to be happy for him and we repeat season two’s nonsense?! Are we going to have another threesome just for funzies because you know...that was still LITERALLY the dumbest and most pointless plot point of the season. But anyway, I’m happy Alex felt comfortable enough to sing a song about a guy and kiss a guy in front of a crowded bar but there was literally NO REASON it could not have been Michael. He and Forrest literally had like four scenes together this season compared to Malex who had this whole emotional arc but no...gotta make it complicated.

- Props to them for managing to have one last break up without actually even having a conversation this time. TALENT. LEGENDS ONLY.

- I guess at least now that there’s just a minor character in the way and they probably can’t actually kiss again due to coronavirus restrictions, there’s probably some hope for Malex next season?!?! Maybe they’ll find a vaccine by the time there’s a Malex reunion. Maybe good things come to those who suffer. Hahaha.

- Right...let’s move on to Max and Liz. So uhh...Max spends the whole episode seeming like he was hopped up on drugs again or desperate for a fix. What is in that antidote?! Once again we gloss over the “darkness” in Max because like who needs real follow up to the first five episodes of the season. Not this show!

- The whole “Max destroys Liz’s lab” plot was nuts. Just the sheer speed of it from Diego magically appearing at the diner with the Generyx woman to Jenna’s super spy disguise to Max just blowing up the lab as Diego and co drive up and then they just exit stage left super fast except for the fact that Liz is still seemingly going to California but like...why? Did Generyx woman still agree to give her a grant based on her exploding lab?! Did she just feel bad that she didn’t have a lab anymore?!

- Sidebar to Steph...fucking Steph...whose apparent entire purpose this season was to be sick enough to inspire Liz to do science and break up her and Max over it and then survive after Liz randomly finds time to give her some kind of half baked medicine from her lab BEFORE it exploded??!?! Or does she just carry that shit around with her? And for the love of god SOMEBODY SAVE KYLE from this EXCRUCIATINGLY BORING story!!!!!! Please don’t subject him to more of this next season. Let them break up during the pandemic and give Kyle a clean slate and allow him to reenter the narrative in a way that allows him actual screen time and scenes with the group. Sigh...at least he got to hug Liz and have a brief scene with Alex where Alex told him he was proof of redemption. Look at that character arc that was literally told in two scenes this season! Yeah...see they can be concise when they want to!

- Anyway...back to Max. OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT FINAL SCENE?!?!?!??! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA?!!? I don’t even know what I was expecting but it WAS NOT THAT! What even?!?! WHY AM I BEING SUBJECTED TO TWO MAXES?!?! ONE WAS ENOUGH...sometimes MORE THAN ENOUGH. This is just really mean and so was forcing me to look at that HIDEOUS beard! I just....I really can’t handle it. HAHAHA! What drugs were they on when they wrote this?! Also...NONE OF THIS ANSWERS ANY QUESTION AT ALL!!!!!!!!!

- Let’s see...what else...

- I’m glad Jenna and Charlie FINALLY had a scene together because when Jenna first said that Charlie had disappeared again, I got so mad because it was just inexplicably dumb. So I’m glad they got to see each other.

- I’m glad Rosa is going back to rehab and that she both got to tell her mother that she loved her and tell her to stay the fuck away.

- I’m just laughing at the fact that for like one episode Helena was suddenly the big bad or at least a main antagonist or at least some kind of main player for the season and then just as quickly was COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT and is probably just going to leave now?!??! WHY?!?!?!?

- Can Isobel please get something legit to do next season that doesn’t just involve her going into people’s heads without asking and maybe involves her getting a love interest of her own? Please?! I mean...I’m glad she got learn about her mother this season but also I feel like she didn’t do much and I think she deserves more than that.

- I guess I’m glad Maria is embracing her alien side and trying to be true to herself or whatever but also....she was literally just in this episode to “not be dead”, to give Michael a plot box and to break up with him so she’s no longer a shipping obstacle. And then we never saw her again the rest of the episode. I really sincerely hope they do more with her next season in a way that actually serves her as a character because this season did not do her many favors. I’m glad she finally knows about the aliens and they delved into her own alien identity but I hope she really gets to do something with that next season and not just exist to save everyone else at the end with no thanks for it. I mean literally no one was on screen visiting her except Michael just so she could give him a box and break up with him. Liz and Max were literally at the hospital. But no...Liz had to see irrelevant Steph so she could save her for some unknown reason. Sigh....Not even her cool aunt Isobel came to see her.

- I don’t even know what else to say. I’m still laughing. I still feel like I know LITERALLY NOTHING about what was going on this season. I had hopes for this season at the end of season one but honestly I have zero hopes for season three because I’m sure it will be a clusterfuck but an even weirder clusterfuck than normal cause everyone will be standing eight feet apart. Maybe that will make them tell a tighter story and not try and shove 75 different plots into 13 episodes??? Probably not. I’m sure it’ll still be batshit crazy and make no sense at all. I’m gonna treat the show as a comedy from now on.

- Well...it’s been fun all. Thanks to anyone who made it through this whole nonsense post. You deserve a prize. Maybe a plot box or a skeleton under a floorboard or a journal telling you your relatives’ love was cosmic too.

#roswell new mexico #roswell reveiws #roswell nm #rnm #this was very long as predicted #I am sure I will still think of more things later

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