#So I hope they stop blaming Chris for everything

[wandering-winchesters]

Who Did This To You?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 4,077 (Oops) Summary: Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, bruises and brief mention of blood. Requested: No, just something I thought up. A/N: I am really happy with how this turned out, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

I press the accelerator down further, hot tears brimming in my eyes, frantic to get back to the bunker. Back to safety and Sam. I need to talk to Sam, he always knows how to calm me down. My boyfriend, Chris and I had fought tonight and it had been bad, he had gotten in my face and screamed at me over the smallest thing. I put up with it for almost an hour, before I got up and left. What had started out as utter rage had slowly turned to gut wrenching sobs throughout the long drive home. I pull into the driveway for the bunker, parking next to the Impala and quickly making the walk from the car to the door. I unlock it quickly slipping inside, I kick my boots off at the front door and head to the kitchen hoping to find Sam. Much to my dismay, the face looking back at me is indeed not Sam, but the other Winchester, Dean. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face and his brows drawing together when he notices my expression and the tears on my cheeks. I sniff, quickly wiping them away but it’s too late, he’s already seen them. 

“Where’s Sam?” I ask, drawing on every ounce of strength within in me to keep my wits about me for a few more minutes. Dean takes his time to answer, taking a sip from the beer he is holding as he studies me carefully. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for his reply. 

“He went out for a bit, said he needed to get out of the bunker. Can’t say I blame him.” He says, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before taking another sip of his beer. I give Dean a short nod and mutter a thanks before turning on my heel, intent upon heading straight to my room but his voice stops me once again. 

“You’ve been crying.” He states, matter-of-factly. I freeze in my tracks, weighing my next options carefully. Why does he care? He’s seen me cry before and it hasn’t exactly made him kinder to me. I square my shoulders and turn around to face him once again, his eyes still locked on me. He looks as if he is carefully analyzing my every move, every breath I take and every word that I speak. He’s leaning against the counter top, one leg bent resting on the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed across his chest, supporting the hand that’s holding his beer. 

“Why do you care?” I ask, my voice a bit more volatile than I initially intended. I am too tired to put effort into being nice to him, a sentiment that he rarely ever gives to me. He is slightly taken aback by my words, a fact made obvious by the way he holds his hands up to the side, shrugging his shoulders slightly. 

“Just thought you might want to talk about it, since Sam isn’t here.” He replies, his tone soft and gentle, something I’d never received from him before. It wasn’t like we were enemies or anything, but he didn’t particularly care for me and I shared the same sentiment about him. We butted heads over everything, he always tried to hold me back on hunts, making me feel incapable and inferior. 

“Ill be fine.” I mutter, moving to walk away once again, and once again he stops me his words cutting through me like a silver knife. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, his voice unreadable, but his face screams danger, depending on my answer. I look at him, my eyes searching his face for any explanation of where this was coming from, but he’s impassive other than anger. I don’t trust my voice, so I shake my head no. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t physically hurt me, he didn’t need to his verbal threats were enough. 

“I’m just going to go to bed. Thanks anyways.” I say and he nods slightly but he’s not fooled. I turn and actually walk away this time and make it to my room before my tears start to fall again. I sit down on the edge of my bed pulling my phone out of my pocket, intending to send Sam a text, but I am distracted by the multiple messages flooding the screen. Beginning with anger and threats, before changing to apologies and begging for my forgiveness. I toss my phone onto the floor, too tired to deal with the nonsense tonight. The interaction with Dean replays in my head, his kindness strange and cause for reflection. It isn’t as if he was ever a complete asshole to me, but he was never fond of me. I had always been Sam’s friend and Dean just put up with my presence. Neither one of them ever intended for me to start hunting with them, it was a matter of wrong place wrong time. Sam and I had met in college and I went looking for him when he disappeared from classes, the week I found him happened to be when the yellow eyed demon came calling a few years ago, and I had stuck with them ever since. Intent upon learning everything I could about the supernatural. Sam had welcomed me in with open arms and Dean had been dragged along kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically, he did a lot of yelling. So the concern Dean had for me tonight, was well concerning. It was throwing me for a bit of a loop, curiosity sparking within me. Did he actually care about me and his disdain for me was just a front? No, surely not. I had been with them for three years and this was an utter first. I brush the thoughts aside and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will over take me. Hours later, it finally does. 

I wake to knocking on my door, I yell out a muffled come in, and Sam sticks his head in, his expression apologetic. 

“Hey sorry to wake you, I am about to head out but I wanted to check in on you before I do. Dean said you were upset and looking for me last night, you could’ve called me Y/N, I would have come back earlier.” I had sat up in bed to look at him and he had opened my door the rest of the way. I smiled softly at the tall man standing in front of me, his hair messy and the collar on his flannel offset. 

“Its okay Sammy, you have a good night out?” I ask and he grins sheepishly, nodding his head in response. 

“Yeah, actually, I met a girl at the bar. I am heading back to her place now actually. You doing okay?” He asks me, his smile contagious. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but smile back at him. 

“Yeah I am good, go get ‘em tiger.” He laughs at my response, and jogs off down the hallway yelling a see you later over his shoulder. He had forgotten to shut my door behind him, I sigh throwing my blankets to the side and standing up beside my bed. 

I stretch my body, groaning slightly as the tension in my shoulders works it way out. I throw on the jeans I had worn yesterday, before finding a new shirt to wear, I settle on my favorite green tee, a memento from my college years. I pick my phone up from the floor, scanning the mass of texts and calls all from one person. Before sending him a quick message,

8:33 A.M.  I’ll be over shortly, I just woke up. 

I take a deep breath and grab my keys from my dresser and head towards the entry to the bunker. Dean is in the kitchen again, this time making himself breakfast. He gives me a slight smile as I walk past him towards the door. I smile back but keep on my path to my boots, still left haphazardly by the door where I had tossed them last night. “Need breakfast?” Dean calls from the behind me, I look back over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, skillet in one hand, towel in the other.

“Not hungry, thanks though. I’ll be back later!” I say, beginning to head out the door to the bunker. I hear him call out something along the lines of ‘be careful’ but I don’t stop to question it, our interaction from last night still weirding me out. 

In hindsight, I should’ve gone back inside this morning. Had breakfast with Dean and ignored Chris’ frenzy of messages. Going over his place this morning was probably the worst idea I have ever had, it hadn’t gone well, worse than I had ever imagined. His messages to me last night and this morning had me convinced that he would apologize for his actions and yet that is the farthest thing from what happened. By the time I had gotten there, he had switched from apologetic to angry again. Instead of his words, he let his fists do the talking. The first time catching me so off guard it knocked me off my feet successfully splitting my lip, the second time I had dodged his blow, stepping out of his reach and yelling at him to keep his hands off of me and trying to leave. But the third. The third landed square on my jaw, knocking me unconscious. 

I had come to from Chris shaking me and crying apologies. His touch sending waves of nausea through me, revolted by the thought of him. Glancing at my reflection in the surface of his coffee table I noticed the rapidly forming bruise. A mark that would serve as a vivid reminder of his actions and my inability of acting like a good, obedient girlfriend. Or so he said, after spending the morning accusing me of cheating on him with Sam. No matter what I said, it wasn’t enough to convince him that we were just friends and he had just lost it on me. I had left in a rush when he went to the bathroom, leaving everything but my phone and my keys behind on his couch. The ache in my body spurring me to move faster out of his place and into the safety of my car. The seconds it took me to get from his living room to the drivers seat, felt like an eternity. I had driven as fast as I dared back to the bunker, checking my rear view mirror constantly watching and waiting for him to appear behind me, but he didn’t. So here I sit, outside the bunker, debating the best way to get into my room without someone noticing the bruises still forming on my face. Not wanting the attention or, more likely the “I told you so’s” from Dean. I grabbed the hat from my passenger seat, tugging it low over my face. I rearrange my hair, framing it around my face in such a way that it covers as much of my jaw as it can. I take a deep breath and exit my vehicle, taking the few steps required into the bunker. 

I shut the door as quietly as I can, taking soft steps towards my room. I hope to make it into the safety and silence of my room without anyone noticing, I am not even sure who is home at this time but I don’t want to see either of them. I had nearly reached the safety of my space, but I head Dean’s door swing open behind me. 

“Y/N, you’re home sooner than I expected. Sam isn’t back yet.” He says and I freeze in my tracks, praying he doesn’t continue the conversation. 

“Okay, thanks!” I say, my voice coming out shrill and unsteady, the opposite of what I was trying to sound like. I hear him move to close his door, but he hesitates and I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. 

“What happened to your jeans? Why is there blood on them?” He asks, and I internally curse myself out for my stupidity. I had wiped my hand across my thigh after wiping the blood off my busted lip. I must have taken too long to give him an answer, because I hear him moving closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for the moment that I had hoped to avoid. “Y/N, look at me.” He says and I can feel him ever so close to me. I turn around, keeping my eyes trained on the ground and my face angled away from him. He reaches out and gently grabs my chin, pulling it towards him so he can see me. I bite my tongue to keep the slight gasp from slipping past, his touch on my bruised jaw causing a ripple of pain to travel throughout my nerves, but he notices and his touch lightens. The opposite of his face, his expression darkens, eyes traveling over my skin. His other hand comes up and pulls my baseball hat off my head, revealing all of the color spreading through my skin, reds and purples mainly at this point in time. 

“Who did this to you?” He growls, not waiting for a response his hand drops to my wrist and tugs me behind him. I follow his lead back towards the kitchen, when we get there he points to the counter muttering one word through his angry stupor, “Sit.” I don’t, but he doesn’t notice immediately, his attention turning to something else. He walks over to the freezer and digs out the ice packs that we kept frozen for any injuries that might surface. 

When he turns around, his eyes are trained on me, a scowl engrained in his features. He sets the icepack down, before he turns to me, grabs my waist and lifts me up onto the countertop. I am caught off guard by his actions, a gasp leaving my lips from his sudden movements. His hands on my hips the most amount of physical touch that has ever been shared between the two of us. 

I train my eyes to the floor, not daring to meet his gaze. He had stepped away again, digging through the cabinets for what I think is the first aid kit. I begin to let my thoughts wander, the dull ache in my jaw pulling me back to the moment that it happened. The pure evil hidden behind his eyes, the look of absolute enjoyment he had as he watched me struggle, his hands rough and violent against my body. But I am snapped back to reality by Dean’s gentle touch, his fingertips gingerly raising my chin to look at him. Tears are beginning to form in my eyes, adrenaline wearing off and emotion taking back over. I take a deep breath, hating the way my lip quivers, still dreading showing weakness to the older Winchester. He notices, he notices all of it, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently wipes away my tears and brings a cold cloth to my lip, cleaning up the cut from the first punch. I can feel anger radiating off of his skin, even though his touch is displaying the complete opposite. 

“Did Chris do this?” He asks, his attention moving from the split in my lip to the gash on my forehead. I hiss as he wipes it clean, an antiseptic wipe pinched between his fingers, he mutters a slight apology, but continues patching me up.

“Yeah, he did. He lost it on me this morning, over nothing. It’s my fault though, I ignored all of his messages after I came home last night, so he was angry.” Dean freezes, his fingers stilling on my skin. I look up at him, confused as to why he stopped and I notice his jaw is clenched so tight that it has to be painful. 

“Don’t ever say those words again, you hear me?” He locks his eyes on mine, fury absolutely radiating off of every inch of his body. “None of this, none, is your fault, you got it?” His words are sharp and pointed, his intent clear. I nod in response, he obviously didn’t want to hear anymore, got it. I would keep my mouth shut. 

He continues patching me up, before he stills, looking me over from head to toe once more. He hands me the ice-pack he had laid out and instructs me to keep it on my jaw. He turns his back to me and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. 

“Where does the fucker live?” He asks, his voice low and so calm that it scares me slightly. 

“Why Dean?” This is when he snaps, the anger that has been coursing through him coming out in one big tsunami of a wave, now that he knows I am okay. 

“Because I am going to go beat the absolute hell out of him, show him a bit of his own medicine.” He says, each word leaving his lips like a bullet leaving a gun. Dangerous and aimed at one specific target. 

I sit quietly, unsure how to respond. 

“Why? I didn’t think you’d care this much, figured-“ 

“Oh for fucks sake!” He interrupts me and I jump from the sheer volume of his voice, he walks back over to me and stands directly in between my knees, he rests his hands on my thighs and his eyes meet my own once again. 

“I have always cared about you Y/N, from that day you showed up at our motel. Your search for Sam finally at an end. I have watched you let men into your life that don’t give two shits about you, I have watched how they treated you and I have hated every single one. None of them deserve you, they are all pitiful excuses for boyfriends. I heard you crying to Sam, each time one of them broke your heart and I had to sit back and not do anything about it. You deserve more than anyone can give you, including myself. Which is why I never said anything, I kept you at a distance. I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep watching you put yourself into these situations. God, if you hadn’t left, he could have killed you. Probably would have killed you, and then I never would have been able to tell you that I-, that I love you.” He says, his voice growing less angry after each word leaves his mouth. My brain is spinning by the end of his speech, his words swirling around my head making me dizzy. He squeezes my leg gently, causing me to snap back to reality once again. 

I blink at him, once, twice, three times before his words finally settle over me and I am completely speechless. I never saw this coming, I admit I have feelings for him, but I had pushed them so far away because of his hatred for me. 

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to say. I always thought you hated me, so I supressed my feelings for you, I dated other men because I thought you would never want anything to do with me. I’m sorry, that I hurt you. I love you too.” I whisper, my hands coming to rest on top of his. He tugs me towards him, his fingers digging into my hips and sliding me across the counter into his embrace. 

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry he did this to you. He will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.” He says, his voice barely registering because of how quiet he is speaking. I can hear how close he is to tears, but don’t mention it to him. I hug him back and relish the way his touch makes me feel. How safe I am in his presence, every fear melting away. 

I hear the door to the bunker open and Sam calls out a greeting. Dean pulls away from me slightly, but keeps his hand resting on my thigh. 

“In the kitchen Sammy.” He calls out, and gently squeezes my leg in reassurance. 

Sam rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking on my bruised face and anger quickly replaces the initial shock. 

I look away from him, shame creeping over me. I put myself into the situation and this was the outcome, now both of them are aware of what I got myself into and it is crashing down on me in waves. I hear Dean talking to Sam, explaining everything that had happened. By the end of it, both boys were rearing to go track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine, or worse. Little did we all know, they were about to get their chance and they wouldn’t even have to leave the bunker. 

A knock sounds at the door and Sam trails off mid sentence, glancing between Dean and myself, an obvious attempting at asking if we were expecting someone. Neither of us were, and suddenly it hit me. He’s here, he had followed me. My heart is in my throat, my breathing is heightened and shallow. My eyes meet Deans and he knows exactly what I am thinking. “Stay here, sweetheart. Sam, let’s go.” He says, giving me one last look before the two of them walk out of the room and towards the source of the incessant knocking. I don’t listen however, I slide down off the counter and hurry after them. Not wanting to be left alone and waiting to find out the outcome of this visit. Dean throws open the door to the bunker, immediately grabbing my now ex-boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and pushing him backwards away from the entrance. Sam is quick to step outside next to Dean, the boys creating a wall between me and Chris. Dean withholds the fury of his fist and issues quite a few colorful threats, instilling a healthy fear into Chris. He pulls him up by his shirt again and shoves him towards his car. They stand, watching him leave before turning and heading back into the bunker. Sam is quick to be by my side, pulling me into a hug. Apologies flying from his lips. I reassure him that I am okay, my eyes remaining locked on Dean. Hoping that the moment that we had shared wasn’t a one time thing, dying to once again be in his arms. 

I excuse myself from the two of them, heading to the bathroom to clear my head. I spend a few minutes in there, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Taking breath, after breath, trying to pull myself together. The whirlwind of a day, completely blindsiding me. I open the door to the bathroom and scan the hallway, empty. I take a chance and cross the hall towards Dean’s room. Knocking on the door and being beckoned in by his voice on the other side of the door. 

I open the door and cross the threshold, closing the door quietly behind me. His eyes are on me immediately and I stare back at him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Four words hang heavy in my throat, fear of rejection constricting my voice. I clear my throat and finally utter the words I had been thinking. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Of course I did, Y/N. I will always mean it.” He whispers, and that is all it takes for me to cross the room and throw my arms around him. He immediately hugs me back, tugging me as close to him as physically possible. His lips press against my forehead, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth his body provides is all consuming and like heaven on earth. A feeling that I had never had before, it was clear that this was where I was meant to be.

“I will always keep you safe Y/N, I promise you that. I love you.” Dean says, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. I knew he meant it with all of his heart and that was more than enough for me. 

[55sturn]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE

↳ series masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

↳ pairings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

↳ warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.

↳ important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3

THIRD PERSON POV

chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.

the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.

“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.

“i don’t know chris.”

“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.

“how is this all my fault?”

“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”

“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.

“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.

he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.

“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brother’s, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.

her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.

as she knelt in front of the toilet , she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.

ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?

“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.

chris on the other hand, was stoic as stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.

he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.

his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.

he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.

as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.

y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.

could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.

she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?

y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.

sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.

as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.

“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.

“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”

“well when you word it that way-“

“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.

chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.

“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.

“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.

“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”

“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.

“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”

“what about your career?”

“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

↳ this story is far from over, let me know if you want a part three <3 there’s gonna be so much angst i actually feel bad which is crazy bc i never feel bad for writing angst

[yeahspider]

let the light in

Ve’s note - soft fic about chan going back home to australia . this is so fluffy and warm . he is just so lovely and writing about him makes me happy(im drunk as usual so this is sparsely proofread my bad) no warnings sfw !! enjoy <3

the sun was setting as you were finishing up your closing tasks at your parent's record store. picking up a record from the bin you blew gently on it, watching as dust flew off and into the air. this place could use a good dusting you thought to yourself. the clock hit five signifying the end of your shift. at 5:01 the bell above the door chimed alerting you that someone entered.

“we’re closed sorry” you quickly said without looking at who entered. you were tired and ready to eat. you went to grab your purse and head out but stopped seeing the person standing in the doorway. it felt like your heart jumped out of your chest when you made eye contact with Chris.

“I know I'm sorry I was just hoping you’d make an exception for an old friend,” he said with a shy smile. a smile that made your heart swell even if it's been years since you’ve seen it in person. the setting sun illuminated his body. hair in its naturally curly state, teeth on full display. he looked like the young boy who you once loved. the same boy who chased his dream but broke your heart in the process. you could never blame him though. it’s not like you ever confessed. too scared of rejection and unwilling to hold him back from his potential.

“of course, I always have time for you its been so long,” you say to him as you usher him to a chair. your mind still catching up to the fact that he was actually in front of you. tentatively you reached out and brushed his hand, discreetly checking to see if he was real. this was a moment you’ve only dreamed of. chris was still all smiles as you sat across from him.

“i’m sorry i never came to see you sooner. i always meant to but i just chickened out everytime.” he admitted with a blush rising to his cheeks . you wanted to cup his face to feel the blood rush under his skin..

“Why would you chicken out am I that scary,” you say jokingly.

“well i used to have a massive crush on you that i never really got over and i didn’t want it to be weird between us. didn’t want to ruin the familiarity.” he said as a blush ran up his neck. familiarity ? what does that even mean ? and what did he mean he had feeling sfor you? that your pining wasnt singular, but shared. your mind races as seconds drag on after his confession. you cant seem to find the words to decribe what you feel right now. are you relieved? scared? happy? nothing feels quite right.

"I'm sorry i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. let's just forget about it. how have you been?" Chris said trying to save the moment. You could see the embarrassment tinted on his ears.

"wait- you didnt make me uncomfortable i was just shocked. i ..." you hesiated to admit you felt the same way. but he waited for you . your chris . ever so patient. ever so understanding.

"i've had a crush pn you for years." you finally admit. feeling a weight lift off your chest, the pressure in your ears lessening. "ever since you first picked me up from that party years ago. youve always been there for me, even when you were thousands of miles away you checked up on me. so the feelings only grew overtime."

"Are you serious? You've had feelings for me this whole time? I thought you just viewed me as some foolishly ambitious boy. I never thought you would want someone like me." he says, with a look between sadness and relief on his face. you guys have been dancing around each other for years. two idiots in love.

"you were never a fool to me channie. I believed in you wholeheartedly and still do. i always knew you would make your dreams happen."

"let me take you out somewhere. we should reconnenct i want to relearn everything about you, if youll let me." chris said. nothing but smiles and dimples.

of course you agreed. you let him learn everything as long as you could do the same

[teapartyprincess4two]

I need a friends to lovers hurt/comfort fic from you pleaseeee. My request is that reader is upset because something happened with her family and she got daddy issues or something (definitely not projecting😜🥰). matt doesn't know what's wrong tho but tries to cheer her up by getting her a cake or something and then as she's eating she starts unintentionally slowly crying and she tries to hide it but matt ofc notices it straight away. he tries to comfort her but before they could get further and she could start opening up nick & chris came in and she immediately stops and pretends to be fine. they joked around and stuff cuz nick & chris are oblivious to everything the whole time and matt is just impatiently waiting for the time when they get to be alone so he can talk to her and figure out whats wrong. maybe later in the night when everyone's asleep he finally approaches y/n and then they slow talk and he just comforts her and idk just more fluff at the end? change whatever you'd like I'd just be happy enough if you even decide to do my request. thank u and ily <3

Happy Birthday- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Waitress!reader x Bff!Coworker!Matt

classification: sad, fluff

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, mention of parental issues, mention of family problems, mention of death of parent, mention of alcohol addiction

inspiration: request^^ took a spin on this, hope u like it bby

summary: Over the course of working together for years, Matt picks up on everything and despite not understanding it completely, he comforts you through the hurt.

—

“Sorry I’m late,” your voice is choppy as you try catching your breath. Quick fingers work towards tying your apron around your waist before flying towards your hair and throwing it up in a haphazard pony tail. You’re an hour late for your shift, an extremely rare occurrence for you.

Matt, who’s currently working the grill, feels a wave of relief wash over him at the sight of you. As the night progresses, the diner is slowly picking up to a steady, busy pace and without a waitress, Nick, Chris and Matt would never survive.

“No worries, I’m just glad you could make it,” he replies. Matt’s eyes always have a habit of dancing over your entire face, today being no exception. He notices the dark circles that formed under your eyes, your sunken in cheeks, and how pale your skin is. Details like this never went unnoticed by Matt, especially not on a day as important as today, and, despite how disheveled you look, he can’t help but be enthralled by your beauty

An array of plates and trays are sprawled on the order window, each of them piled with greasy, hot food. You wear a disassociated, blank expression as you reply, too focused on catching up on the work at hand, “Is this food ready to be sent out?” You yank a ticket from one of the trays, briefly reading Nick’s messy handwriting to ensure everything was correct.

Matt hums in response, deeply intrigued as to what ails you, but not wanting to press any further. As soon as you hear that, you become a task bot and effortlessly send the orders out.

Your incredible work ethic is directly fueled by your need to distract yourself from the reality of your life. It’s your 21st birthday, a day that for most people involves a fancy brunch, meaningful gifts, a scrapbook full of photos, and a drunk night out. 21 was supposed to feel magical, every aspect about this day was meant to be special and perfect.

But you aren’t most people, and your life was anything but perfect.

Your mother has been in and out of your life since you were 8. She was an amazing mother, when she was sober at least, but your parents were always arguing, mostly because your dad worked a lot and it made your mom feel neglected and lonely. The arguments filled her with enough sadness to lead her to drinking and one day her alcoholism consumed her until she just never returned home. You were 13 the last time you saw her, and you spent your entire adolescence blaming your dad for being the reason she left.

So, from the age of 13, you stopped being a kid. While other children were watching morning cartoons before school, a fussy 2 year old rested on your hips as you tried braiding your 8 year old sisters hair. All the while your dad was working grueling hours in order to keep a roof over your heads. His hard work went unnoticed, instead being met with resentment from you.

It wasn’t until you turned 18, when your father suddenly passed of a heart attack, that you realized how much weight and responsibility rested on his shoulders. Upon his passing, your siblings were placed under your official guardianship. It was the inheritance you never asked for, but as the oldest sister you had no other choice.

So, instead of spending the day with friends, you’ve been forced to pick up your parent’s slack. You have two younger siblings at home who have no one else but you. All day you’ve been basically running after them, tending to their needs and trying to make their lives a little less unbearable. And although they’re your pride and joy, the absolute most important part of your life, you can’t help but wonder what life would be like if they weren’t your responsibility.

The trauma and grief has led your siblings to be more of a handful than other kids their age. Your 17 year old sister, Safiya, finds herself falling into the wrong crowds. Money is tight which has led her to develop a habit of shoplifting. It was simple and harmless at first, consisting of her pocketing items such as nail polish and candy bars. But eventually she and her friends were running out of stores with duffel bags full of clothes, the adrenaline that came from being chased by police officers being better than any drug.

On the other hand, your 10 year old brother, Giovani, struggled to make friends. Every week you were receiving at least one phone call that he’s gotten into yet another fight. There’s an inconsolable anger inside of him that causes him to lash out at anyone that isn’t you or Safiya, and when you’re not worried about his temper, you’re nagging him about his failing grades.

Needless to say, your life was not easy. Everyday you played the role of mother, and you often found yourself asking God what you did to deserve this; what you did to deserve a 21st birthday, a life, full of nothing but sorrow and struggle.

“Happy birthday, girl!” Nick whispers excitedly, pulling you in for a quick side hug as you reenter the kitchen. Matt watches as your lips form a tight lipped smile, your sad eyes giving you away immediately. You’re grateful for the sentiment, but still can’t muster up enough energy to actually feel excited.

“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate it,” you return his hug, immediately returning to work.

—

After a long, busy rush, your break couldn’t have come any sooner. The diner is quiet, the bustling atmosphere from before being replaced with nothing but the sound of groaning trees and the music that plays lowly from the jukebox.

“You going on break?” Matt asks, his arms submerged elbows deep in the sink. “Yeah I think so. I probably won’t get another chance to eat,” you comment. You look visibly happier than earlier, but there’s still a twinge of sadness in your voice.

“Alright, lemme just finish these dishes and I’ll make your food. Okay?” Matt’s voice is soft, almost like he knows that the reason for your sadness runs much deeper than an uneventful birthday. “No! It’s okay, I’ll just ask Chris to do it,” you say, ready to turn on your heels before he can protest.

His words catch you before you can, “I have a surprise for you! Just wait for me, please.” You lazily walk over to him and tiptoe, peering over the large, industrial sink to see how many dishes he has left. He basically has the whole kitchen sitting in the water, “You have so many left to wash though!”

A fake pout forms on Matt’s face, eliciting the first real laugh from you since you arrived. “You can help me?” he suggests, his eyelashes batting over his big doe eyes.

Your resolve crumbles quickly, you were never able to say no to Matt, “Fine, but only because Chris always burns the bacon.” You roll your sleeves up, cuffing them until they’re high enough to keep dry. The sound of clanging metal and swishing water settles between you two as you work towards washing the dishes before the next rush.

“How’s 21 treating you by the way?” Matt asks playfully, eyes momentarily glossing over you as he awaits an answer.

“Well I’m not drunk,” you chuckle, scrubbing at a tough spot on one of the pans. For some reason you feel safe with him, like you can tear your protective walls down and bare the most vulnerable parts of you. Over the course of working together, he’s become a true friend, an unjudgemental listening ear. Everyone else in your life has failed and disappointed you, but not Matt.

“You don’t have to be drunk to have fun,” he replies, hands wading through the sink for the next dish.

“True, but I’m not sure I’d categorize picking my little sister up from jail and getting my brother from school because he was expelled as ‘fun,’” your wet, soapy hands throw an air quote around the last word. You didn’t mean to trauma dump, especially not when the conversation started so light and airy, but you couldn’t help it. There were so many things on your mind, that up until this point, you had been actively ignoring.

“Bet you won’t forget this birthday, though,” Matt jokes, and you’re grateful it’s not a response laced with pity. You laugh, because it was true. One day none of this would matter, it would become an old folk-tale-like memory that you’d someday tell your children.

“Jail, though? Fuck, what did she even steal?” Matt shakes his head in disbelief, how a 17 year old girl managed to get into so much trouble was beyond him. A part of him did feel bad that you were the one struggling with these kids, but he never showed it because he knew how much you hated sympathetic, pitiful treatment.

“Some dumbass jeans that were 3 sizes too big,” you scoff, draining the sink. “I was so mad, I mean it was just juvie and they let her off with a warning because she’s a first time offender, but why the fuck was she stealing jeans? Can’t she steal useful stuff, like fucking milk or something?”

Matt laughs, running a white kitchen towel over his hands to dry them. “And Gio? Was he in on the heist too?”

“Oh please, I wish, maybe then he would’ve been let off with a warning too,” you take the towel from Matt, patting your hands dry as well. “This dumbass got expelled for fighting a kid who told him his shoes were fake. They’re not by the way, Safiya stole those too.”

“So now I have to enroll this kid somewhere else, if they’ll even take him. He has such a bad track record, Matt. I’ll probably have to move my sister to a different school too because she’s surrounded by so many bad influences… I don’t even know what to do,” your voice breaks slightly at the end, the sadness once again washing over you.

Matt brings you in for a quick hug, “let’s just worry about getting you fed for now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping the singular tear that runs down your cheek.

As if on queue your phone starts ringing, your sister’s name illuminating the screen. “Hold on I gotta take this real quick,” you mutter, pulling away from the hug. He wishes he could keep you there forever and tell you everything would be okay, but instead he hums in response, watching you disappear out the back door with the phone pressed against your ear.

When the door clicks shut, he turns into the kitchen, throws some gloves on and begins making your food.

—

A stack of fluffy chocolate chip pancakes sits next to scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon. Matt knew your order by memory, one of the many details he’s learned about you over the course of your friendship.

Chris’s voice fills the kitchen, announcing his entry, “Does that look good? I don’t know, Nick said it doesn’t.”

While you and Matt washed the dishes, Nick and Chris decorated an isolated booth in the back of the diner. Balloons, streamers, and an iridescent tablecloth adorn the area. A small ‘Happy Birthday’ banner is strung from two parallel windowsills. It was something small and simple, but Matt knew you’d love it.

Matt peers over the order window, briefly examining their work before returning to the task at hand. “It looks good, it doesn’t have to be perfect. She’ll love it.”

Nick walks into the kitchen, fingers tying a knot in one of the balloons, “Are you sure? I’d be so fucking mad if that’s what I saw as my 21st birthday set up.”

“I’m sure. She’ll love it.”

Matt pokes two candles into the stack of pancakes, the number 21 sitting perfectly on the fluffy pastries. He used whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate chips to create a simple design around the outer edges before drizzling some maple syrup on top. The bacon was broken up to create a smile on the eggs, a corny gesture he thought of last minute.

The back door suddenly opens, causing the triplets to freeze in place. They hadn’t figured out exactly how they were going to execute this, they’d only gotten as far as the decorations and the make-shift cake.

“Nick you go distract her, Chris go change the music in the lobby!” Matt instructs quickly, his voice hushed so you won’t hear him. They scramble into position, Matt managing to hide somewhere in the diner lobby where you won’t see him.

“Nick, what are you doing?” you laugh, feeling Nick’s cold hands cover your eyes. “Shush, no questions,” he replies, causing you to hold back more laughter. Nick leads you into the lobby slowly, your hands holding onto his as they still work to obstruct your vision. Matt watches as you two walk in, his hands shaking with excitement as he lights the candles.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” the triplets begin to sing in unison, both Chris and Matt approaching the decorated booth. Nick removes his hands, a shocked expression immediately forming on your face.

As they continue singing the song, you admire the decorations in awe. Suddenly you’re a little girl, the random decorations being everything you needed as a child. The tears begin welling in your eyes, this was completely unexpected.

“Make a wish,” Matt whispers, bringing you in for a side hug as he holds the plate in front of you. You’ve never had a birthday cake before, let alone candles to blow a wish on. And although it’s simple, the makeshift cake is enough to bring the waterworks.

You squeeze your eyes shut, fat tears streaming down your face as you blow the candles out. There’s only one thing you can think to ask for, but you don’t dare verbalize it in fear that it won’t come true. The flame flickers, disappearing into a cloud of smoke as your wish floats away.

“Hey don’t cry! You’re 21!” Chris exclaims, shaking your shoulders in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you can’t help it. You’ve weren’t expecting any of this and it’s quite honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, wiping the tears away quickly. “Thank you guys for this. It’s beautiful,” you continue, bringing the trio in for a group hug. Nick and Chris are the first to pull away, leaving you clinging to Matt.

“You can thank Matt. This was all his idea,” Chris replies. Your arms are wrapped around Matt’s waist, a hug being the only way you can think to thank him. You look up at him, glossy eyes threatening to spill again.

“Happy birthday,” Matt murmurs, a smile forming on his face as he places the plate on the table and snakes his arms around you.

The moment is intimate enough to serve as Nick and Chris’s queue to leave. They sneak away into the kitchen quietly, giving you and Matt privacy.

“Thank you so much for this, Matt. You don’t know what this means to me,” you whisper, eyes locked with his.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs.

“No, Matt. I really love this. Thank you.” A comfortable silence settles between you, the jukebox playing a calm melodic tune. You haven’t broken from the hug, swaying back and forth as you continue to admire the setup before you.

“Are you gonna try my cake?” Matt asks, using his chin to point towards the table. The whipped cream was beginning to melt into the spongy dough, strawberries and chocolate chips drooping down the edges.

“Mmm yeah, but I wanna stay like this just a little longer.” He doesn’t complain, instead pulling you in closer and resting his head on yours as you continue swaying to the music.

—

“That was really nice, Matt. Thank you,” it feels like the hundredth time that you’ve thanked Matt tonight. A half finished plate of food sits in front of you, the pancakes being enough to fill you up.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know,” he laughs. Matt sits next to you on the same booth chair, using the balloons that cluttered the other side as an excuse to sit closer to you.

“I do, though. No one has ever done anything this thoughtful for me before... Not like there’s anyone left to do it,” the last part is hushed, he almost doesn’t catch it.

“C’mon, you’ve never had at least one birthday party?” He asks, his fingers play with one of the balloon strings. Despite knowing your tragic backstory, Matt finds the information hard to believe.

“Nope. This is the first cake I’ve ever had,” you admit, feeling sad at the confession.

“Well I hope you at least made a good wish,” Matt senses your shift in emotion, so he’s trying to remain positive.

“Yeah…” your voice trails off, fingernails scraping and picking at the plastic table cloth.

“Are you gonna tell me what you wished for, or are you superstitious?” Matt props an elbow on the table, resting his head on the palm of his hand as he looks at you. The moonlight from outside shines through the window, working alongside the dim diner lighting to illuminate your beautiful face. Your hair is down, the loose strands that keep falling in front of your eyes tucked behind your ears.

The question has you serious and embarrassed, “I’m not superstitious, it’s just a really corny wish.” He gives you a knowing look, one that encourages you to continue.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask, looking up at him tentatively.

You take a deep breath, rubbing your thighs in an attempt to ease your nerves before admitting something completely vulnerable, “I wished my dad was still here.”

“I know it’s never going to happen, I’m not naive, but I’ve never had a candle to wish on before so I just… I just wanted to make it count. I know it’s dumb—” your words are quiet and Matt cuts you off.

A gentle hand pulls your attention to him, his thumb caressing your cheek, “I don’t think it’s dumb.”

You don’t know what you did to deserve a friend as kind and loving as Matt. Another tear rolls down your cheek, swiftly being wiped away by Matt’s thumb. Even in your emotional state, you looked beautiful.

Subconsciously, Matt’s moving in closer to you. His eyes are flickering between your soft gaze and the plump lips that call out to him. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the vulnerability of the moment, or maybe it’s the undeniable crush you’ve had on Matt for years, but your eyes flutter shut and copy him in leaning in.

His lips find yours quickly, you taste like maple syrup and whipped cream. You’re the perfect sweet treat to end such an eventful night. Your hands rest on his shoulders, slowly traveling to the nape of his neck as your lips mould together. Neither of you can seem to get enough of each other. His tongue slips into your mouth, eliciting a small moan from you.

The moment you pull away, you’re breathless. Foreheads are pressed together, eyes locking to keep the intensity of the moment.

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he murmurs, going in for the next kiss of many.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: you guys have no idea how long this sat in my drafts. I kept telling myself it was too sad, but it’s HURT TO COMFORT IT HAS TO HE SAD!

anyways my sweet anon! I hope you like this, especially bc I changed it a bit.

thank u and I luv YOU 💌

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @hearts4chris @maryx2xx

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[wolfchanslover69]

The fight

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In which y/n has a fight with Chan.

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Pairing: Bang Chan x reader | slight angst with a happy ending

A/N: Hii guys, I hope you enjoy reading this oneshot, I know it's a bit short but I haven't had inspiration for a while. If I made any mistakes do tell me because I won't realise it :D.

Warning: Mentions of the word fuck.

Word count: 1,3k

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Great, it was raining and I didn’t have an umbrella with me. The whole day had been shitty, and this was like a cherry on top of a cake. I usually loved how calming rain was and how it would make me feel like a new person, but not today. Today it felt depressing, heavy, like it was just adding more weight on my shoulders, making me feel suffocated. All the times I had for the past few months been alone, stressed, and tired, came back all together, double the usual.

I stepped out of the office building, starting to walk rather fast to my nearest bus stop while trying not to slip on the wet ground. I hadn’t prepared for rain today and was wearing my everyday work heels and a thin trench coat. The coat got wet fast, and the coldness of the water got into my bones making me freeze. The bus stop wasn’t far away from the building, and as I heard it, I could see my bus driving past my stop. I halted my walking and stood there in the middle of the rain, angrily staring at the stop. Of course, it has to be today that I miss my bus when it’s heavily raining and I have heels in which I cannot walk home. I can already feel the pain starting to form on my feet. Even my toes were starting to feel numb.

I started walking home as there wasn’t anything else to do. I did not want to, and would not call my boyfriend, whom I was ignoring at the moment due to my anger for his behaviour lately. He had been busy doing god knows what for the last two months, and when I asked him about it, I would get an annoyed answer for me to stop questioning and bothering him. 

As I walk, I see cars drive past me; some of them intentionally drive into puddles of water to splash me even more. At some point, I hear a motorcycle nearing me. The sound of the too familiar engine makes me walk faster and ignore the sound.

“What are you doing in the rain?” I hear his voice but don’t want to show him any reaction. I keep walking, ignoring him with an angry frown on my face.

“Hey, baby, can you stop?” I hear him ask with a soft and slightly worried voice. I wanted to yell at him that I, in fact, do not want to stop. I still pretend to not hear him and keep my pace.

“Hey, c’mon y/n! You’ll get sick if you continue like this!” He sounds a bit annoyed this time.

I try to resist myself but give in at the end and stop my walking, turning to face him. He’s driving his motorcycle with his famous black and red leather jacket on. He looked handsome, but I wouldn’t admit it to him now when I’m still pissed off at how he talked to me when I was just trying to figure out if everything was okay. He didn't have his helmet on, so I could see his wet hair sticking to his forehead. I saw how his eyes were filled with worry but how he tried to cover it up with annoyance and anger.

“You haven’t answered me for days,” he matter-of-factly told me, but I knew it already.

“And I wonder why. It didn’t seem important to you for the past few months,” I snapped at him while turning around to keep walking. I huffed in annoyance, trying to get myself to calm down.

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know how my work is, so you can’t blame me for being busy!” He drove a little past me stopping right in front of me. I stared into his eyes while trying to walk past him, but he wouldn’t let me. Chris drove a bit forward, blocking my way completely, and took a hold of my arm.

“Can you fucking stop walking? I’m trying to talk to you,” he angrily told me. 

“Oh yeah, Christopher? But did you stop working when I tried to ask if everything was okay? No, so let the fuck go of me and let me walk.” I tried to shrug my arm away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let me.

“I’m sorry about it, but I can’t fucking help my job,” he angrily told me.

“Well, I don’t actually care if you are fucking sorry or not or if it’s your fucking job.” I knew I didn’t actually mean it, but I was just so frustrated and angry at him that I ended up taking it out on him.

 He still didn’t let go of my arm, and we spent a while breathing heavily and just staring at each other angrily. During this, I noticed that the rain had started pouring harder than before. I was starting to get really cold, and I soon noticed myself shaking from the cold. Chris seemed to notice this too as he let go of my arm and started to take off his leather jacket.

“Put this on, you are shaking from the rain.” He handed me his jacket. He had a tight-fitting, long-sleeved turtleneck underneath his jacket, but I knew it wouldn’t keep him warm.

“No, put it back on, you’ll get cold fast,”I tried to tell him, pushing his hand holding the jacket back towards him.

“No, baby, it’s okay. I know you get cold easier than me and have been in the rain longer than me, so please just take it.” He reasoned with me. 

I ended up giving up and took the jacket, putting it on. It felt weird to have a wet trench coat and, on top of it, a warm leather jacket. I knew by taking the jacket from him, I had silently agreed to go home with him, and maybe it was better like that. Chris offered me a helmet after I had put the jacket on.

“Hey, why don’t you have a helmet on?” I asked him. He averted my eyes, trying to hide away from my question.

“Uhh well, I may or may not have forgotten to put it on as I saw that it was heavily raining and got a feeling you were going to walk home…” I just stared at him in silence as he told me that. I know we just fought about the silliest thing ever, and we both could have acted like adults and talked this out, but the fact that he still was worried for me warmed my heart.

“You should put your spare helmet on then,” I told him with a calm and neutral voice as I didn’t want to fight anymore.

“No, I saved it for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he told me while turning his head slightly to the side.

“Well, I don’t want anything to happen to you either, you know,” I wanted him to understand my point and the reason why I had even been ignoring him; maybe this would make him realise it. We both were silent, and I started staring at my hands, which were covered with his jacket’s long sleeves. I didn’t want to talk about these kinds of topics anymore this evening.

“Now get on the bike; let’s get out of here,” he told me after a while, nudging his head to the seat behind him. I hummed as an answer as I threw my leg over the bike to sit behind him. I took a tight hold of him and hugged him from behind, trying to squeeze my gratitude into the hug. I may not say it at the moment as I’m still trying to act mad, but I am thankful for him.

“I love you, you know,” he told me silently.

“I love you too,” I answered him, knowing our fight was partly over.

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A/n: If you want to request something please do! (I don't write smut and do only Chan ff :])

[vmpiires]

ok i got one. gojo fucking y/n until her brain doesn’t practically work / until her brain goes to mush 💯💯💪🏾💪🏾

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

„𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, light sex, praising, proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 936

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; wrote this up in class. i hope ya likeeee. reblog to support meeeee and if you want more :D

destiny’s child’s song “say my name” was playing loudly off your spotify playlist on your tv as you brushed your hair. your hair was dry after you washed it and did your hair care routine. you’d put some oil in your hair for extra moisture and continue to brush it from the ends going up to your scalp.

“heyyyy, i love this song.” you heard gojo say as he entered your room. you could hear him singing along with the song. his goofiness made you smile and it always made your day when you were upset.

you turn around to him, “i didn’t know you liked this song,” you giggle. gojo nodded, having a big goofy grin on his face.

“yeahh, i love your music taste…uh..some of it,” he chuckled. it was true, gojo loved the songs you played. whether it was some violent gang banging music or something soft like chris brown or any 80s-90s rnb songs, he was always down to test the waters of your music.

“hey, hurry up and finish your hair, i wanna cuddle.” gojo stated as he began taking off his shirt. the male was out with his best friend, geto, doing some work and fighting off any spirits they might’ve encountered during that time. you couldn’t blame him for being tired.

you finish with your hair and put a bonnet on your head so it could be protected while you relaxed with gojo in bed and turned off your music, putting on a random movie to play on netflix. you lie down beside your icy haired boyfriend and he immediately puts his arms around you, holding you tightly.

gojo starts kissing your shoulder, slightly distracting you from the movie that you were watching. you didn’t know what was happening but you were interested in the film sort of. it wasn’t long until gojo was on top of you, kissing you all over.

“i thought you said you wanted to cuddle,” you interject, making gojo stop and smirk at you. when he made that face, you knew what he was up to and you weren’t opposed to his actions so you let him continue.

sexual interaction with gojo was sort of funny because he was always making jokes with you while he was forcing his dick in your guts, which made you stop laughing at him. you had a feeling he’d do that again.

tonight was different. gojo was prepping you, sticking his face in your wetness. you could feel the tip of his nose tickling your cunt while his tongue circled your folds then plunged down into you, sucking and slurping your fluids.

you put your hand down on his head and gripped his snow white hair. your hips bucked into his face before gojo would push his hands down against your hips, forcing you to stop your movement.

your moans were motivating him to move faster. he’d lift his head only to spit on your womanhood and continue to lick you until you were clean and ready for him, just so he could ruin you all over again. once he finished with that, he’d remove his boxers and stuff his length inside you without warning, making you yelp.

gojo laughed, “did i surprise you? or did it hurt?” he asked, still having that smile on his face even though his face was covered in your fluids. he didn’t even bother wiping it off. he liked the feeling of your mess coating his skin like a face mask. now he wanted to feel everything. and he wanted you to feel it too.

you shake your head, “you just didn’t give me a warning, that’s all.” you managed to get out between all of your moaning and groaning. trying your hardest to not turn into a moaning mess. but he’d do it to you anyway.

while the unknown movie played on your tv, gojo was pounding into you, showing no signs of stopping. he put his head down into the crook of your neck, kissing it. his kisses turned into bites while simultaneously sucking your skin to create a hickey.

“what’s my name, princess?” you heard gojo ask. you were so drunk off pleasure that you completely forgot what was going on. you forgot where you were. your mind completely blank. the only thing on your mind was gojo and how he was making you feel.

“gojo,” you moan. he’d pick up his speed, wanting to see his bulge through your stomach as he pounded you into the bed. you felt like your were sinking down into the mattress because of the position he was holding you in.

“sorry, i didn’t exactly hear what you said.” gojo chuckled before he let out a long and deep groan. he would continue to slam into you until he heard his name filling the room countless times.

he was fucking you dumb. you felt like a mindless zombie that only knew one word. one name. you were drooling all over yourself as your mouth hung open and your head leaning back against the headboard of your bed.

“is that all you know how to say?” gojo teased. you couldn’t even say anything to counter her statement. you were lost in another world. a place you couldn’t even comprehend.

before you knew it, you were making another mess for him. you let out a contempt sigh when the two of you finish. you felt exhausted but you felt like you wanted another round at the same time.

“okay, now we can cuddle.” gojo beamed, smiling at you, laying his head down on you.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

[stunningsturns]

Okay so there are heaps of these over tumblr but their just not what I’m feelin u know? So I’ve been stalking your profile and I was wondering if you could do an angst to fluff with Chris sturniolo and gf!reader?? You can decide what happens but everyone I find they make it so like their only mad at eachother for like 2 hours or 24 hours. You can decide what happens but I need the reader to be less forgiving and I need the argument to be BADD but then they make up in the end but it takes so long for her to forgive him that even the fans think they’ve broken up. But yeah happy ending but the rest needs to be angst. This is so bad but please I NEED THIS. Thanks bbg 🫶🫶

˚◞♡ ⃗ It's Not Over Yet..

pairing; Toxic!Relationship, Chris x Reader. warnings: Swearing, angst to fluff. wc: 514 a/n: Hi! Of course, and I hope you love this! :) Once again, I added my own twist. First, I did Instagram posts to let you get a feel of the storyline and then the writing starts after!

y/nwashere

caption: Meet me at our spot.

likes: 8k

comments: 3k

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y/ns.leftshoe: STUNNING!! I LOVE YOU.

^Liked by y/nwashere

matthewsturniolo: 👀

^ y/nwashere: I swear I just saw you?

nicholassturniolo : BODY GOALS!

^Liked by y/nwashere

christophersturniolo: my baby

^Liked by y/nwashere

y/nswifey: OMG I AM SO EARLY!!

^y/nwashere: Hi!

christophersturniolo

caption: Meet me at our spot

likes: 200k

comments: none

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creator disabled comments.

FIC STARTS HERE:

I come home from a walk, I walk inside and go into my bedroom. I set my stuff down, and post on Instagram. As I am doing this, I get a message from Chris.

A knock is heard at the door, I abruptly get up and open it. Chris walks inside, we go up to my bedroom and take a seat on the bed. “What’s wrong Chris?” I question. He glares at me, and sighs. “Look, Matt told me you are cheating on me. Is that true?” I roll my eyes, “Of course not Chris! I love you so much, why would I cheat on you?” I assure him, “I am not gonna argue with you about this but, he made it sound like you are.” He mumbled. I look at him in disbelief, “Look Chris, Why would you believe him? I get it, he is your brother.. But I am your girlfriend!” I huffed. He rolls his eyes, “So now you are blaming this on me?” He protested. “Excuse you? I am not blaming this on you. Would you like me too, because oh I will.” I grumbled. “Y’know y/n, not everything is about you. I was asking a simple question.” He scoffs, “So, now you're blaming this on me? You are the one who believes everything your crazy brother says!” I snarl. He slaps my arm, “Ain’t no way you just fucking slapped me!” I yell. He sighs, “Babe, I didn’t mean too.” I slap him, “No! Stop. Get the fuck out of my house. Now.” I snarl. He sighs, getting up and leaving. 

** TIME SKIP ** 

I receive another text from Chris.

Seriously?! What is his issue, thinking I will accept his apology. Like you fucking slapped me, He seriously has balls.

sturniolo.news

caption: People think that Y/N and Chris have broken up because they haven't posted anything hinting they are together and she also unfollowed him.

likes: 10k

comements: none

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comments disabled

A knock is heard on the door, I march downstairs and open the door to see Chris holding flowers and a teddy bear. I immediately shut the door in his face, I cannot believe he had the balls to come to my house!? He knocks again, I open it. “What.” I snarl, “Did you get my texts, I am really sorry baby can you just let me talk to you? You don’t have to forgive me.” He sniffs. I sigh, “Come in, make it quick I don’t have all day.” I state. He nods, and we sit down on the couch. “I am so fucking sorry I slapped you, I just wasn’t thinking when I did that. I am also sorry for not believing you, you are such an amazing girlfriend and I feel as though I never appreciate you. Thank you for letting me speak.” He states, “Okay, bye.” I say motioning him to the door. He leaves the teddy and flowers for me and leaves the house.

I grab a card sticking out of the flowers, inside he wrote ‘Even if you don’t forgive me, memories stay forever so here is the bear you got me 2 years ago. Love you - Chri$’ I sigh, looking at the card and beautiful flowers. He even got me my favorite. I think to myself, ‘Am I seriously about to forgive this nasty jerk?’ I pull out my phone, clicking on his contact.

Did I seriously just forgive him? Ugh, what is wrong with me!!

sturniolo.news

caption: Y/n posted this on her story and Chris reposted it! War is over they are back together!!

likes: 180k

comments: 90k

˚◞♡ ⃗ Tag-List: @hysteria-things @stellarsturns @lightningsturvn @maggieflms @sturniozo @notariverdaleacctanymore @tillies33ssss @h3arts4harry

[elliestwoleftfingerss]

Hey, can you write something for Tommy Miller? The reader is tommy's wife and he finds her after serval years after he thought she was dead (she using all his tricks, she learned from him) he being a proud husband. Thank you 💜

Sorry if I took a while to reply to this, my absolute dumbass was reading it at 10 at night and thought the gender was switched (I basically thought Tommy was the one who was supposed to be dead lmfao). This gave me strong 'Huntsman: Winters War' vibes, so if it goes off a little, blame Chris Hemsworth <3 Thanks for the request, and I hope y'all enjoy :>

Not proofread

Gender: Female (She / Her)

Word count: 1125 words, 6054 characters

Warning: Mentions of death, Mentions of violence, Strong language

You knew death was coming to you. It was an inevitable end, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Death seemed like a foreign concept to you; you were always out of reach, but this time, it dug its claws into you and made up for those times you’d cheated it.

With everything you’d experienced in your life, death was more of a welcome than a burden. Your body finally gave in, your mind being able to finally rest from the endless trauma. You’d lived your life, and death opened its arms to you.

Where you were ready to let go, however, Tommy was not. You’d never seen him fight for something so hard before. With half-lidded eyes, you watched your beloved husband as he battled your dance with death to keep you awake. These hands, that had slaughtered more men than you were ever aware of, were so gentle with your broken form as he applied a pressure on the stab wound to your abdomen. The ruthless hands of a killer, handling you with the utmost care.

He tried everything he could think of to stop you from giving in to the temptation of death, but you eventually shut your eyes and let yourself rest.

“Tommy, if you’d just listen to me-” Joel’s gruff voice started, but the older brother wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Tommy interrupted him, for the umpteenth time. He refused to believe what he was hearing.

“Stop fuckin’ lying to me,” Tommy spat, his hands planted firmly on his hips as he turned his back to Joel to pace around the bar. “She isn’t alive.”

No, the dead are supposed to stay dead. Tommy watched you die. In a futile attempt to keep your heart beating, he knew you were long gone. He felt your pulse slip away, the only indicator of your life fading into oblivion like it had never existed at all.

“You aren’t hearing me!” Joel boomed. With Tommy already talking with a loud voice, Joel was now full-blown yelling. He couldn’t get his brother to listen to him; Tommy was convinced that you were dead. Everyone was convinced you were dead. They knew you were.

So how the hell were you alive?

“Because I watched her die!” Tommy snapped back, his voice threateningly low as he whirled around. This was clearly something Joel and Tommy didn’t agree on.

Before the boys could finish this argument, Tommy grabbed his pack and swung it over his shoulder. He didn’t hear any more of what Joel had to say, and stalked out of the Tipsy Bison.

Tommy and Joel’s horses, Justified and Old Beardy, stood tied up outside of the bar, and Tommy was fast to walk down the front steps of the Tipsy Bison and unknotting Justified’s reins. He hopped onto the horse’s back with his pack around his shoulders, spinning the animal in a tight circle and galloping off toward the woods.

As Tommy fled into the woods, he thought about what Joel had told him. It seemed impossible that’d you be alive: you died in his arms. He was first-hand witness to the whole situation, so he knew that there was nothing that could bring you back.

Joel said otherwise. How were you still active, after all of this time? You’d been killed years ago, and Tommy knew what he saw. He saw the woman he loved and valued most, lose the light in her eyes as she gave up the battle of staying conscious to the world.

Tommy huffed as Justified slowed down, the horse trotting his way through the woods with Tommy upon his back. The man needed some time to think about the information that his older brother had just tried to give him. Riding through the woods always gave Tommy some peace of mind.

That is, until he heard a loud gunshot ring through the trees.

The force of the noise was enough to startle Tommy and his horse, the animal immediately taking himself in a circle to run away from the direction that the noise came from. It came from deeper within the forest, the brunt of the shot bouncing around the wooded area.

A normal person’s first instinct would be to run in the opposite direction of a gunshot, but Tommy was drawn to it. Was someone else out here? How close were they? Should he sus out the situation and follow the noise?

The middle-aged man chose the latter, and gave his horse a firm boot with his heels to send him galloping into the woods. The horse wasn’t happy to oblige, but gave in due to the sheer force that was Tommy Miller.

As they raced deeper into the woods, Tommy hoped another shot would ensue so he could try and find the source. He hadn’t seen any people outside of Jackson that he didn’t know, so the situation was refreshing to him.

Tommy pulled Justified to a halt, the horse’s hooves pacing against the foliate ground as the man on his back perked up. Tommy had spotted something – something large, lying on the ground.

Swinging his legs over the saddle and landing with a silent groan, Tommy led his horse toward the thing he’d spotted. As he got closer, he noticed that his observation began to take the shape of some kind of large animal. Upon closer inspection, the animal was a deer. He wasn’t sure what kind of deer, but it was dead.

The deer had a bullet wound at the side of its head, which would’ve killed it instantly. It was a strategically placed shot for a person, so whoever had killed it must have been a good marksman.

Tommy knelt beside the animal and inspected it, one hand holding his horse’s reins, and the other trailing over the wound that the deer had in the side of its face. He wondered who’d shot and killed it. The deer only had the single wound there, so whoever shot it did it effortlessly.

A twig cracked.

Tommy’s head snapped over his shoulder, and his pupils contracted when he was met with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his face.

On the other end of the gun, a woman, no older than Tommy himself, clutched the weapon with both hands. She adjusted her fingers against the firearm as she kept the front end of the gun in line with Tommy’s eyes.

As Tommy’s eyes crept up the length of the gun and the extended arms of the person, his gaze eventually reached their face. He swallowed back a lump forming in his throat as he took in the bloody-faced woman standing before him.

You, his wife. You were alive.

As promised, a tag for @musings-of-a-rose

Another part? Let me know in the comments or reblogs :) Thanks for reading, and remember my asks are open so bombard me <3

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 9 - Part Two

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,705

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

June 2021

If Chris had to guess, he’d say he slept maybe for twenty minutes the previous night.

Twenty restless minutes, after which he woke feeling as though he’d had a nightmare. But what he wished was only a nightmare had become his reality, which was that damned leaked picture from the catering company, one with him all over Nat in the background.

Chris couldn’t stop thinking that this was just an absolute fucking disaster. One that didn’t end when he opened his eyes, instead playing out in front of him with every passing moment where his phone didn’t light up with a text from here and when he was still so fucking annoyed and discouraged, not knowing how or if he should reach out first when Nat was the one to end things. 

Thankfully, the crew had the day off to adjust back to day shoots after a long few weeks of night work, but the reprieve didn’t last long when he heard the door to his hotel room unlock and open as Scott came inside with a yawn. They’d made plans the previous night – before Chris’ life went up in flames thanks to a simple phone call – to eat breakfast in Chris’ room, then find the Sox game on a random online stream and spend the day on the couch. 

Chris didn’t even look up from where he was staring out the window when Scott came into the room, shoulders taught when Scott asked, “So how’s Nat?” 

“The fuck if I know,” he shook his head, glancing down at the table before he took a sip of coffee, hoping it somehow held the answers to how to fix everything.

Scott’s face fell and he reared back before hurrying to sit down at the table next to Chris, pulling a plate of eggs from room service in front of him. “What the hell does that mean?” He asked Chris with a raised brow as he sprinkled some pepper onto his food. 

“It means I wouldn’t have a clue,” Chris began before he scoffed and his hand flew in the air. “She’s going to Seattle and doesn’t want to talk to me. We fought last night and she said she wanted time to think.” 

Scott listened to him with an expression of pure disbelief, and once Chris explained what happened vaguely, his younger brother held his own hand in the air and ordered, “Hold on, back up and start from the beginning. None of this is making sense.” 

With a sigh, Chris began from the beginning, reminding him about the stressful hurried texts and calls with Megan in between takes and during dinner, but then caught him up to speed on what happened after the fact, once he was back in his room and Nat was on her way home from work. And as he retold the story, he was struck by just how sideways everything went, and how quickly it went wrong. But he still couldn’t figure out why Nat got so frustrated with him relaying what Megan – one of the people he trusted the most in this industry, almost implicitly – advised them to do to handle this. Which was her job. What he paid her to do. “I just feel like she was blaming me for everything when all I was doing was trying to make it better for her,” he finished, shrugging as he shook his head in frustration. 

But he didn’t expect Scott’s scowl once he finished, and the dirty blond held his hands in the air placatingly as he told Chris, “Look, don’t shoot the messenger, but it sounds like she kind of told you she just wanted some emotional support.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do! I was trying to solve it so she wouldn’t have to deal with it,” Chris explained, hands flying in the air as he clenched his jaw. 

“She had to deal with it anyway though, Chris,” Scott explained slowly, in a way that made Chris feel as though he was a four-year-old getting chastised. “Remember that Nat isn’t used to any of this. I’m sure it really scared her.” 

He stared at his hands as they anxiously fiddled in his lap, wrapping around themselves before they dropped to his sides, only to go right back to it again. “....It did,” he admitted, remembering how gutted and terrified she sounded, almost more than she did the previous week when she’d call him distraught. 

Scott listened to Chris and was quiet for several minutes as Chris moved his food around his plate and Scott ate. Even looking at the food made Chris feel sick, he just wanted to hop onto the next flight out and apologize to Nat and hold her. But he couldn’t. He had too much riding against him here – commitments and contracts, things he absolutely couldn’t get out of without fucking up his career, and people relying on him, people he had to owe a good portion of his career to – but he yearned to see her face to face, to make things right. 

“C’mon, I know you’re thinking something. What’s going on in your head?” Scott prodded gently, pointing his fork towards Chris. 

“I don’t know Scott, I just know I fucked it up,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face to hopefully calm himself down and stave off something like a panic attack. “I think me wanting to solve all of this with the picture was more about wanting to solve it for me than it was for her.” 

“Why do you think that?” 

Chris shrugged, frowning as he tried to clear the lump in his throat. “Because I think I knew how much it would hurt her and make her see all the shit that goes along with me,” he admitted finally. 

Scott sighed, almost sympathetically as he pointed out, “But that’s unavoidable. With the level of fame that you’re at, that’s what goes with it.” 

“That’s the problem. Anyone who’s with me has to deal with it,” Chris agreed, his voice stronger. It’d taken him a long time to recognize the burden he placed on his loved ones with just being him. With being the guy on his nephews and niece’s friends’ lunch boxes, the guy in every other commercial some years. It sucked, it was a level of fame he never quite desired, and he was grateful for it – don’t get him wrong, he was immensely grateful for the career he worked for – but he missed the days where people didn’t breathe down his neck, didn’t tag him in random pictures every minute, and didn’t flood his mentions with less than desirable things. It was all the biggest turn offs to anyone, but especially someone like Nat, who had a career that afforded her with the privacy and autonomy he no longer knew. “And Nat’s no social climber who likes the spotlight but she’s also not someone in the industry who’s used to it and I know she’s going to hate it.” 

But Scott saw right through that argument, that line of logic, and in between bites of bacon he told Chris, “If she cares about you though, it won’t matter.” 

“I’m just afraid that we haven’t had the chance for the good to outweigh the bad,” Chris confessed quietly, feeling as though he was now just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“You can’t control that though,” Scott argued back, but then his expression turned empathetic as he studied Chris with a sad half-smile. “And I know you hate that.” 

“I dunno, Scott. Maybe it’s for the best,” Chris shrugged and tried to assure himself of just that. That he would bring nothing but chaos and a spotlight to Nat’s otherwise peaceful, uninteresting-to-the-average-fan life. “Nat’s better off without all this in her life.” 

“Are you better off without her?” 

“I don’t think that’s part of the equation anymore,” Chris admitted, more to himself than Scott. “I fucked it up, but then again I always seem to.”

“So don’t you think you should work on fixing things?” Scott asked with a shrug, with the self-surety that only came with being Scott. At Chris’ silence and odd look, he explained, “I’m not trying to make you feel worse, Chris. I’m really not. I just feel like you do something you perceive as wrong and then just beat yourself up for it. Nobody is perfect, nobody handles things the right way every time but that’s why you have to just learn from it, apologize and move on.” 

“I know you’re right,” Chris began quietly, taking a large sip of his coffee, more to distract himself and hold off on speaking more than anything. “I just don’t think Nat wants to hear from me. It didn’t sound good when she said she wanted to think things over… it sounded like it was it for us and that just scared the shit out of me. Then I was an ass and made it worse by saying I’d maybe see her later.” 

Scott pointed his fork at Chris again, eyes wide as he instructed, “So tell her that. Tell her you were scared and you’re sorry.” 

Chris listened, eyes finding his phone from where it sat a few feet away, screen dark with no messages from Nat. “...I don’t think she’ll answer,” he whispered. 

But Scott simply shrugged, reaching for his iced latte and drawling, “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t say it though.” 

He just nodded before changing the subject as he finished breakfast with his brother, but the words Scott had spoken stuck in his brain throughout the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about how all of this had happened, how good things had been and just how quickly they went wrong. His brain kept churning and replaying it over and over in his mind as the day wore on, but now that the shock and emotion of seeing that picture surface and the panic he felt was gone, all he could seem to remember was the emotion in Nat’s voice when she talked to him on that phone. 

Chris had been so focused on fixing this, on trying to make it go away to assure Nat that dating him wouldn't be the circus that he knew it was at times. He had tried to come into it with a strategy to make her feel as if he had it under control and yet all he managed to do was push her away and cause that crackle in her voice that still plagued his memory, and he was determined to make it up to her. 

Nat couldn’t help but feel disappointed that even coming back home to Washington didn’t seem to soothe her heart, and instead of breathing a sigh of relief as she stepped off the plane, she only choked back more tears. The flight, under three hours long, only provided her with more opportunities to mull over the situation with her and Chris, to think back on their highs together only to come crashing back down as she remembered their lows… and what had happened just a day earlier. 

And while she looked forward to seeing her sisters, the pair volunteering to pick her up from the airport, the grilling she received on what had just transpired hurt even more than she imagined. She hadn’t thought it could get worse than it already had, but hearing about how even Heather and Alex had felt the effects of the blow up put the final dagger in her, both having hundreds of follow requests as well, for no reason except being the sisters of Natalie Marton, Chris’ fling. 

She pushed aside those feelings however, determined to enjoy the evening at home, finally. And she did – she enjoyed walking into her childhood home, into the comforting and warm arms of her father, and hugging her brother-in-laws and getting tackled by her nieces and nephew. But all throughout dinner and until after the kids went to bed, her eyes kept getting drawn to her phone, hoping for something from Chris, something that said this was just a nightmare, or a horrible misunderstanding.

Nat thought she’d disguised her emotions well enough behind the genuine excitement of finally being home, but her cover was blown once she finally ignored and walked away her phone while she helped her father with the dishes while Heather, Ryan, Alex, and Zach were busy getting the kids down for bed and cleaning up the backyard.

“I’m so glad you were able to come, Nattie,” her father murmured, his voice hardly audible over the running water from the sink as he washed dishes before handing them, one by one, to Nat for her to dry and put away. “We love it when you’re around.” 

“I do too,” she agreed, knowing just how much being with her family had made this better and having people who loved her so deeply brought comfort to her. Nat kept her eyes on the plate she was wiping, letting out a soft sigh before telling him, “It was nice to have my mind off of… everything.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him give her a long glance before finally asking,“You want to fill me in on what’s going on, honey?”

Nat rolled her eyes, feeling the anxiety inside of her rise as she told him, “I’m sure Heather and Alex already have, considering the nonstop texts I’ve got from them all day yesterday.”

But Eric simply shut the sink off, turning as he dried his hands with a dish towel and leaned the small of his back against the sink as he looked at her. “They told me that there was a picture online, but that doesn’t tell me how you’re feeling and that’s what I’m concerned about.”

“I just can’t wrap my head around it. I was having a normal day at work and then suddenly everything turned upside down because of one stupid picture where Chris had his arm around me,” Nat still didn’t understand the reality of this all, all the fear and anxiety spilling over as her voice rose and she tossed a hand in the air. 

Her father shook his head, muttering, “I can’t imagine what it must be like for Chris to always have to be looking over his shoulder.”

“Now I feel like I do too,” Nat admitted quietly, swallowing nervously as tears threatened to burn her eyes. “I mean, I’m nobody and yet I have thousands and thousands of his fans requesting to follow me.”

“What did Chris say about all of this?”

At just one mention of his name and the memory of that hurtful conversation that was only one day ago, tears sprung to her eyes as she thought back to his cold tone and swallowed hard, “… That was the worst part.” 

“Here, let’s sit down and tell me what’s going on,” Eric could see the emotions passing over her face and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading his youngest daughter over to the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair for her that Nat ungracefully plopped into before he sat down across from her and instantly reached a hand across the wood table top to hold one of her hands in his. 

“Dad, I was so freaked out,” Nat confessed with a shaky voice, trying to blink away the tears unsuccessfully before they slipped down her cheeks. “I mean, I got blindsided by this and Chris and I aren’t even officially together or anything but he called me and just gave me a laundry list from his publicist of what I can and can’t do.”

“Oh really?”

“Can you imagine how that made me feel? I was so terrified and all he wanted to say was that I had to make sure to keep everything private and don’t say a word about it to people I’m not close with,” the words just came pouring out of her mouth, finally having an opportunity to fully process and express her feelings. Nat ran a hand through her messy curls before admitting, “I felt like he couldn’t care less how I was doing.”

“Did you tell him that?” Eric tried to prod as he looked right into her eyes. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged. But Nat knew it didn’t seem to matter because even when she had told him, he had been less than understanding, but in an attempt to give her father a whole picture of the situation she filled him in that, “He just said trying to fix it was because he cared about me.”

“I’m sure he was,” Eric nodded. 

“I get people don’t always react the best in the moment. I know I wasn’t thinking the most clearly but I…” Nat had to stop for a moment to swallow the lump in her throat, going on with, “I told him I just needed time to think and he basically called off coming back to LA and said he’ll maybe see me later which felt like a big fuck you.”

When Nat saw the way her dad’s eyes arched in sympathy, she knew that it probably wasn’t good and it only caused the knot in her stomach to tighten. The tears filling her eyes just didn’t seem to stop and when Alex came walking into the room, she knew that her sister saw them by the way she stopped short. Nat didn’t say a word as Alex walked over, just putting an arm around her and giving her a soft squeeze before saying, “You left your phone outside and it was ringing.” 

And with that and a soft kiss on the top of her head, Alex left the pair the way they were a minute ago as they sat in the soft light of the kitchen. Nat tapped on the screen and instantly felt her heart drop when she saw that name on her screen, and her father must have known too based on the way he asked, “Is it Chris?” 

“Yeah… he um, left me a voicemail,” she whispered, eyes frozen on her phone, thumb hovering anxiously between the play and delete buttons. 

Eric was quiet, nodding more to himself than to Nat as he took a sip from the glass of water resting on the table next to him. “Maybe you should listen to it,” he finally suggested. 

Part of Nat didn’t want to. She was afraid of what might be waiting for her on the other end of the line. She should have known from day one that there was no way any of this… this connection they seemed to have would go anywhere but then somehow it seemed to. Nat had tricked herself into believing it all would somehow be okay until that bubble was popped yesterday. She got hit with the reminder that this couldn’t be and somehow it felt like it would be easier if it could just slip away, but it looked like she wasn’t going to get out of it without hearing what he decided she needed to hear. 

With a shaky hand, she turned the volume up and clicked play, hearing that husky voice of his start talking, “Hey…. It's me. Nat, I’ve been such an idiot. I handled all of this like shit and I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I couldn’t believe how much this blew up and I knew it wouldn’t be anything you were prepared for so I think I just wanted to solve it and have a plan to make it all better, but in doing that, I missed out on the most important thing which is you.” Nat kept listening to the voicemail as the line paused for a minute, hearing his soft sigh before he continued, “I kind of um, wanted to be able to say this right to you, but I get you need space and I respect that. I just want you to know that I’m sorry, Nattie. I’m so, so, sorry.” 

She was quiet as she listened to his last deep breath before he had hung up, tears freely falling from her eyes as she processed what had just been said. She almost forgot that her father was sitting just across the table from her until he tilted his head, looking at her in concern as he whispered, “Nattie…”

“Dad, what am I going to do? How do I figure any of this out?” Nat’s voice crackled as she practically begged him for any answers. “This is not anything I thought I’d ever have to deal with.”

“Times like this I wish your mom was here,” her dad’s voice was soft as he lightly shook his head, remembering, “She always knew what to say.”

“I just don’t know what I should do…” 

“Nattie, I don’t know that I’m always the wisest person or have all the right answers,” she could see just how uneasy her dad was, knowing that he was doing everything in his power to be there for Nat in the way she needed in this moment. 

“I’d really like to know what you think, Dad,” Nat insisted, knowing that Eric was never one to tell anyone what to do, but she needed his guidance, explaining, “I’m so confused.”

Eric reached out, taking Nat’s hand again and squeezing it softly as he gave her a sad smile. “All I know Nattie is that you get that sparkle in your eye when you talk about him. And that from even just those few moments when he came while we were having lunch in California, I could tell by the way he looked at you just how deeply he cared for you,” he told her, and Nat let out a deep breath as she realized she agreed with him. Chris did care for her, hell she cared for him more than she thought was ever possible, but she also had never been here before, never had to consider anything more than updating her Facebook status as a relationship grew and changed. 

“I know he does… I know he means what he said in that voicemail,” Nat knew there was no way she could deny that what Chris had expressed to her was anything less than authentic. But she finally gave voice to her underlying fears, “I just don’t know if it’s enough… if I can deal with everything that comes with him and his life.”

“I don’t have an answer to that, honey,” Eric was honest, a hand motioning vaguely in the air before he told her, “But I think you’re in too deep for him not to find out for sure.”

“… I’m really crazy about him, dad,” the emotions inside of Nat feeling so heavy and deep, knowing that what she felt for Chris wasn’t something she’d be able to walk away from so easily and admitted, “I don’t want things to slip away as easy as they seemed to on the phone when we talked.”

“Give him a call, Nattie.”

“I don’t know… it’s late… he’s probably asleep,” Nat muttered, knowing that he might not even be up yet, or could be in the middle of filming, but more so finding an excuse to shield her feelings from any further damage. 

“Just call him,” Eric murmured again, a sideways grin on his face as he nodded resolutely. “Trust me.”

She felt him give her hand a soft squeeze before Nat nodded, silently agreeing before she used the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe away her tears. Eric pulled Nat in for a long hug before they were interrupted by her elder sisters coming in with both their husbands behind them, carrying in the last few things from outside and filling the kitchen with their loud chatter. While the chaos was happening as everyone filled the kitchen, Nat was the only one who saw the little wink Eric gave her, encouraging Nat to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed and walk up the stairs and down to the end of the long hallway where her childhood room still was. 

Nat closed the door behind her before going to sit on the full-size bed, hearing the soft creak as she put her weight on it. She just sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hands as she wondered what she should do… What should she say? Maybe this was something that should wait, she thought to herself. Nat’s brain kept filtering through every excuse in the book before impulsively hitting the call button. 

It only rang a few times, enough that she was sure it’d go to voicemail and she’d be spared from having to face him, but soon his gruff, sleepy voice answered, “Nattie?” 

“Shit, you were sleeping weren’t you?” She swore, frowning as she shut her eyes. Nat kicked off her flip flops, moving her legs onto the bed and leaned her back against the pale yellow wall. “I knew I shouldn’t have called.” 

But his voice sounded much more awake than it had only a few seconds ago when he explained, “No, no. I was just dozing.” 

Nat nodded to herself, staring down at the worn quilt as she picked at a loose thread on it restlessly. “I just wanted to call you and tell you that I’m sorry,” she finally whispered, pausing for a moment as she felt unable to help but listen to every sound that left his lips, no matter how small. “I’m really sorry, Chris.” 

“Are you kidding me? What do you have to apologize for?” He asked, his voice quiet but incredulous. “I was the one who was an ass, Nattie.” 

She frowned, listening to him but insisting, “I don’t feel like I handled any of this well at all.” 

“Why should you? You were blindsided and not at all equipped for any of this,” he explained, and Nat felt relieved that he finally saw how she’d been feeling throughout all of this. “And instead of helping, I just made everything fuckin’ worse and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that.” 

Tears filled her eyes as relief flooded her, and it was then that she knew that they’d make it out of this, out of this nightmare that’d been consuming them. It wasn’t something she’d ever entertained happening – them pushing through it together – because it just seemed so final and absolute, the way they’d left things, but they’d come together and began picking up the pieces as a pair instead of broken individuals. “...I’m just scared and I miss you,” she admitted, her voice cracking as tears slipped down her cheeks.  

“I miss you too, I’m so sorry baby,” his voice was low and tender and Nat could almost see him shaking his head before he told her, “I wish I could make it up to you.” 

“Your apology was more than enough,” she told him, shaking her head to herself as she listened to the sound of him breathing, aching to be there next to him. “But… you could still take me out to dinner when you come back if you’re available.” 

Chris’ voice was stronger, no room for question as he told her, “When I come back from Europe, I’m spending a couple days at home to shake off the jet lag and get Dodger, and then I’m flying straight out to see you.” 

She bit her lip as a smile spread across her face, feeling some butterflies in her stomach as she whispered, “I think that sounds really good.” 

“I do too, Nattie,” he whispered back, a smile evident in his own voice before he yawned. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Even as the call ended, the smile that was on her lips stayed put as she realized that she would - finally - see him soon. That mental countdown she’d had for a month now was moving closer and closer to the end with every passing moment, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face as she thought about tomorrow, about her niece Ella’s birthday party, but also about how she’d be one day closer to being back in his arms again. 

A/N: We hope this made up for everything! We can't wait to hear what you all think! Please feel free to send in an ask or leave a comment!

[imagine-silk]

Hi!! I love your writing and hope everything is going well in life. I recently binged through your master list and they were amazing! Happy Holidays!

How would FO4 companions react to a Sole who's always patient and kind with others finally exploding when a settler acts a little too ungrateful? Maybe after a grueling mission Sole went on and returning back exhausted/injured, making them a bit more irritable than usual.

Ah, yes. There are Marcy Longs everywhere. This took awhile but I enjoyed writing this, it was fun. Merry Chris everyone!

CAIT is not going to save you. Truthfully, she’s been wanting to deck the settler in the face for a while but you always interfered. To be honest yelling at them is not doing it for her but it is cathartic. The settler is, reasonably, caught off guard and looks around for help, no one helps them.

“Oh, I ain’t helping ya. Ya get what you throw, right?”

PRESTON tries to facilitate but this was long overdue. His allowance of the settlers to generally have a say on how things are run had both positive and negative effects on the people in charge, especially you and him as General and their second-in-command. The spat would only end when you finished what you were saying or if you allowed him to pull you away.

“Marcy, that was a bit harsh. [Sole] stop, you made your point.”

HANCOCK knows being in command is a delicate balance of loving your people and making a point. Finn was a good defender but repeatedly overstepped others so taking him out not only made a point but protected his people and those who could be his people.

“Don’t complain. They didn’t shoot ya.”

NICK normally would chastise you for chewing out someone but they had been getting on his nerves. He has always seen how willing you are to bend over backwards for everyone, so even if the settler was nice to him, he won’t stand for his partner being berated by petty grievances. But as much as he wants to scold them, he wants to get you back to the house after the day you've had.

“Hey, pal/doll, let’s go. We’ll deal with this later.”

MACCREADY just chuckles on the side. When the settler first started giving you a piece of their mind MacCready offered to shut them up as your bodyguard. You of course declined the offer but now that was fully on the table. As much as he would still do it he knows you wouldn’t want that so he keeps his hands to himself. Just letting you chew them out was enough for him.

“Nah, the boss's got it.”

DANSE before BB he would correct the civilian for questioning command or reprimand you for letting your people step on your toes. Things have changed. Typically he tries to stay out of things now but he steps forward when his friend gets home to immediately be yelled at. But your snapping gave him pause. His instincts kicked in and he removed you from the situation. You tried to fight back but a demanding injury you’d been ignoring stopped you. When you were both inside and sat down he took care of your wound, making sure you knew he was just concerned for you not blaming you.

“I can imagine how tired you are. No need to apologize to me. Or them for that matter.”

PIPER she doesn’t like misdirected slander, however today was not misdirected. Her dislike for the picky settler is very known and so this was a long time in waiting. Honestly, the sheer Schadenfreude of the whole situation is enough to have her lean on a wall and chew gum watching this. Like her favorite TV show was on. She would only say something if Nat was there.

“Hey, I don’t wanna hear you repeating any of that, okay? Okay.”

CURIE doesn’t 100% understand the malicious intent behind the settlers word so she’s surprised when you answer with aggression. She tries to calm you down while attempting to give the settler a solution to their problem. It doesn’t work. The only reason this outburst stops is because Curie starts crying. It’s a lot of stimulation and confusion for her so it’s the only thing she can do.

“Monsieur/Madame, can we just go home? I don’t like this.”

X6-88 has always followed your orders, has never harmed anyone without your word, has never stepped out of your command. He immediately kicks them to the floor when you snap at them. You just risked life and limb to keep these people safe and warm, and when you come back limping they have the audacity to call you inattentive to the community. He doesn’t take any more liberties, he already let his emotions guide them to the floor, no need to guide them to the afterlife because of them.

“Shall I take care of them permanently? No? Then maybe just dismemberment?”

DEACON always away from the spotlight, didn't intervene but saw the whole thing. He doesn’t think less of you, actually he’s surprised it took this long, anyone else would have done it sooner. When you’re done he’s waiting at home for you, and when you ask where he went and if he heard you he just laughs.

“I was, y'know, around. I’m in the walls. You can't hide secrets from me!”

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Not sure how to view Chris anymore and it’s sad. At this point whatever the “truth” is, it doesn’t matter.

I’m just floored at how someone could be so weak to get into this mess and not “be able to get out”and it’s easy to say oh it’s hard for him to get out but he’s at least trying to show this is fake, yet he was bold enough to lie to the world about being married?

Make that make sense?

Like how the fuck do they clean this up at all?

It’s like reality and illusions are morphing together and I honestly don’t know who the fuck this man truly is and maybe that’s the way it should’ve always been.

We get wrapped up in this shit mainly due to the way of the world and due to Hollywood and capitalism, etc, but we have to take accountability by finally choosing to not fall for seeing other mere mortals as anything but human.

If you take any random person off the street, clean them up, give them a great marketing team, BOOM you have a new celebrity. It’s all a big awful joke of illusion.

No more rose colored glasses. It’s to the point fandoms and celebrity today is seeing a blue sky but being duped into believing it’s green.

Unfortunately most will never understand the above and never take those glasses off.

This applies to fans, non fans and just the overall population of the world who are willing and unwilling and unaware at how impacted we all are by celebrity culture. A headline makes waves or something goes viral and we ALL stop our lives to read or listen about it and many hop online to discuss and argue with others over various things, not once seeing the reality……you’re taking time out of YOUR life to focus on someone who doesn’t even know you exist, wasting YOUR time discussing crap about someone else who is living their life and getting rich off of you and someone who uses media to stay relevant through…..Y-O-U!

*breaks rose colored glasses* for good.

💔👓

#EnoughIsEnough

Same, An🫶n. Honestly before I was sucked in here, Chris was the ideal guy for me... Ofcourse, Papa was right. He told me once that "I shouldn't place anyone on a pedestal, because anything placed that high, is meant to break."

I've got nothing but love for Chris and his work. But the way this is all spun, real or not, I'm not sure if I can keep adoring him as a person.

Like I've said before, we can't exactly blame Chris, alone for getting into this mess in the first place. But if those breadcrumbing and hinting on his end isn't true (the hope and rumor that he's telling us that anything about the wedding is fake, etc.), An🫶n is right.

He's not a saint, but he's not a demon either. But the thing is, he isn't going to be just Chris Evans, the actor we all love and adore. The actor we'll be happy for when he gets his small victories. Whose dog is one of the best things on the internet during this whole mess right now.

He's also going to be Chris Evans, the guy who "married" a racist, who's friends have baited the entire Fandom. The guy who couldn't save his fans from tearing at each other. The guy who let this get so out of hand, that the one place that should've been safe for us to escape to, and enjoy everything, disappeared in mere months.

I'm planning to stick around, because I know for a fact, a ton of you were here for the fan-made stuff. The fanfics, fanarts, discussions about characters, etc.

I came here for that too. Doesn't mean I'm giving up this whole thing. But I'm going to take time to go back to the fun part. Because honestly, my page has turned into an analysis page😅 it's 70% rant posts about the bullshit pr, and 30% me and my fics...

Bro! I intended to make fucking fics before 250 Followers Celebration comes... But I'm way behind... Partly, because of life. And partly because the second something goes down, I drop nearly everything, and focus so much time and energy on this.

So, I'm not saying drop him or any celeb completely. I'm saying we need to tone down our idolization, because it may have gotten to the point where it isn't healthy.

For the sake of your health, mental and otherwise, Fandom. Take time to enjoy what you love about this Fandom. And please don't say anything about tearing the PR Narrative, because even I have to admit, it takes it's toll.

Again, not backing down, or stepping down. Just giving myself time to take care of me, and spend time with my family while they're still alive.

I don't know if this Christmas season will be the last that I get to spend time with any of them, so I'm going to make sure I live every minute with them. And not stuck in this hole I've dug myself for months, since the wedding announcement.

And you should all do that for yourselves, guys. Take the time, and make it count.

[lovecolibri]

oh your tags on that one post are EVERYTHING:

#you want to love your child from a distance you do that by sending birthday and christmas cards #and sending letters and maybe having phone calls #you don't do it by cutting the child out of your life #and then making it all about yourself

like loving your kid from a distance doesn't mean much if they don't know about it. i was always annoyed about her lines about "maybe you've adapted to life without me, i hope for that and fear it" or whatever the exact lines were. like that is so freaking self centered and of course it's ok to feel that way but don't put it in the letter to your kid!

Hiiiiiiiiiiii *waves from 3 weeks down the line* Look what I found in my inbox that i forget to check especially now that my app is refusing to work at most things. ANYWAY. Yeah, I was confused when everyone was ooohhing about how sweet that letter was because to me it just felt so manipulative and a way to shift blame. I know I put in the tags of another great post about this the other day that Shannon needing time is understandable and needing to go be with her mom is understandable but cutting off ALL contact?? With her child??? Did she bar her mom from contacting her grandson?? Did her mom call and Chris and Eddie had to wonder why Shannon refused to speak to them? How many birthdays and holidays went by before they stopped checking the mailbox for a card? Did Shannon's mom still send cards and like the phone calls did they hope to see Shannon's name in them only to be disappointed she couldn't even sign a card for her child?

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I actually liked the arc in s2 because it paints SUCH a contrasting picture of a) Shannon and Eddie as parents, b) Eddie's trust in Shannon vs his trust in Buck with Chris, c) Shannon and Buck as co-parents, and d) Shannon and Buck as partners to Eddie. We get a LOT of milage out of just a few scenes! And an underrated moment, I think, is seeing that Eddie has abuela chaperoneing Shannon and Chris. But in season 3 we see Eddie being perfectly fine leaving Chris alone with Buck, including AFTER the tsunami. It speaks volumes to me!

And all of that is why I SO dislike the retconning KR tried to pull in s6, and I really hope we get to see more than just that letter "fixing" things for Chris. He's getting older now and I would love to see him and Eddie having some hard talks about what happened and how they both felt and working through some of that together. Maybe even some family therapy with them! Tim has so far been doing a good job of getting the show back on the rails and righting some wrongs ("I don't know what I was thinking dating a death doula" still cracks me up) and I would love if this is one of those things.

Thanks for stopping by! Sorry I am Bad At Tumblr Friends

[strgirlyy]

With the ghost of you

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, no happy ending, mentions of death, car accident, depression, anxiety, ghost.

Tell me if I forgot something :)

Chris has a driver's license here

Contagem de palavras: 1884k

A/n: English is not my first language, my request box is always open, Good reading!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ponto de vista de Chris

Ela é definitivamente a pessoa mais linda que já vi na minha vida. Seu cabelo sedoso (Y/H/C) balançando enquanto ela balança ao ritmo da música. Sua risada incomparável que soa como música aos meus ouvidos, seu sorriso, como eu amo esse sorriso.

Chris you're not dancing, dance with me - her voice sounds low and distant, like an angel whispering in my ear

I grabbed her soft hands and spun her around, making her laugh even more, I put my hands on her waist, bringing her closer, her hands tangled around my neck, as we danced to the rhythm of the music, she was close, I could feel her warmth, her body, her breath on my neck.

Chris, you don't have to blame yourself - once again that distant, soft voice in my ears

I look at her confused

Blame me for what, sweetheart? - I put my right hand on her cheek, caressing her cheek.

For the accident - she replies

Still confused

What accident? - I ask

Chris, you have to let me go, I'm stuck here, and I can't leave until you accept that I've gone. It wasn't your fault, you didn't drive off drunk and crash into our car on purpose. I never blamed you and I don't blame you, and I hope you know that I love you and will always be with you. Right here - She puts her hand on my left breast - And you'll be right here - She puts my hand on her left breast. I couldn't feel her heartbeat

It's okay, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I don't want to let you go, I can't. I'm nothing without you. I'm nothing without you, - I say, feeling a lump in my throat.

I know, Chris, I'd stay too if I could, but you have to move on, you're still too young to give up everything, live for me, and I'll always be there to take care of you. But now I have to go, I love you - I feel your skin starting to get cold and I try to hold on but I can't, so unfortunately I have to let you go

I love you, I'll never forget you - I say and watch her drive off smiling at me. And again I see myself in that car. Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin was playing on the radio, it was her favorite, we were driving through the open traffic light and a car crashed into her side, the driver was drunk and didn't stop at the light. She was gone, she left me not knowing how to live without her.

But they say that we all come to earth for a purpose, her purpose was to make me a better person, she took me out of my sadness, but now I only know how to live with her.

I wake up from my sleep after reliving these very real scenes, I know I have to let her go. I look at your side of the bed and the glass smeared with your fresh lipstick is still there. The Zeppelin shirt hanging on my clothes rack was still there, everything around me reminds me of you, but now they're just memories. I've been having panic attacks several times a day, I can't shower or get out of bed, I feel pitiful, she's gone and taken part of me with her. I'll never be the same after that.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was short, I know, but I was traveling and it was the best I could do 🫶🏻

[repurpose-yourself]

Santa's Objectified Helpers 2 (3/7)

"You're quite the anarchist, I must say," Chris remarked, "Burned buildings. Threatened lawmakers. General destruction by any means to thwart government work. The list goes on and on."

Wade struggled against restraints keeping him firmly in place against a wooden chair, "So what?! Just because I was born an American doesn't mean I identify with their oppressive regime!"

Chris stood up from his desk and walked around to the front of it, standing a few feet away from Wade, "We're all entitled to our opinions. And from what I can see, in the U.S., you're welcome to broadcast them to anyone."

"Why the hell am I here?! Are you the police?" Wade interrupted, still yanking at the tight festive restraints.

"I'm not the police. But in your case, I might as well be. It's impressive how you managed to avoid serious jail time. Your threats and actions are not light, nor something tolerated well," Chris said.

"When they stop forcing free people to live lives they never agreed to, then I will stop my work. Until then, people will burn," Wade confidently retorted.

"Sure," Chris responded, shrugging at the statement, "Defiant until the last breath, I suppose. Regardless, I think a change of pace is necessary to correct your attitude towards harming others. And I have the perfect solution."

Wade started yelling profanities at Santa before darkness set in...

***

"This is a monumental occasion and one the American people will take pride in," a man announced before a crowd of people, "Support from all sides brought us here today and I thank my colleagues for their contributions."

From a low angle, Wade suddenly saw people standing all around him. Many were in suits while others, like the press, were slightly dressed down. Many eyes were on him, or at least that's what he felt. Unable to move and communicate, a sense of terror set in, especially after assessing the situation.

'A fucking law signing?! These fuckers need to die!' Wade yelled internally, a fierce hatred brewing inside.

"This is common sense law and will hold criminals accountable, especially those who threaten our democracy and this great country," the man said to applause, "Please, let's not hesitate a second longer. My friends, we shall sign this into law."

Weathered fingers approached Wade and immediately grasped the vulnerable individual. More profanity rattled around inside Wade's mind as he was lifted up and manipulated with ease. The man's thumb reached towards the top of Wade's existence and pressed a button, which was followed by a click.

'Get your fingers off of me!' Wade screamed inside.

The man's hand approached the newly drafted law and forced Wade into the high quality paper. The former human was drug all over, with fingers articulating minute movements and drawing the lawmaker's signature. Wade didn't understand how it was possible but he had become a pen, the very tool needed to increase the plight of the American people, at least how he saw it.

'No!' the living pen wailed internally, 'I will not be part of this travesty!'

One after another, Wade was handed around and defiled by way of signing provisions into law. Everything the former human worked for didn't matter at this moment, as control was fleeting, as well as humanity.

Another round of applause confirmed Wade's ever growing nightmare. The living pen was dropped into a wooden box next to the newly signed law and promptly sealed away under a heavy lid. In darkness, Wade listened to lawmakers congratulate each other before taking questions from the press.

"There are ways to fight for your cause that doesn't require violence and harm," a voice suddenly said, "In this capacity, you can no longer hurt people. And it is only you who can be blamed for this situation."

'I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Just release me from this hell!' Wade pleaded internally, hoping the voice would listen.

But just as quickly as it started, Chris' voice disappeared...

[cutedisneygrl]

Love Online Chapter 15

Warnings: a little language. The rest is just sweet.

Chris and Merida had both fallen asleep on the couch and were awoken by Merida's phone. Chris picks it up and sees its her father.

            "Who is it?"

            "Your father."

            "I don't want to talk to him. What if he..."

            "Maybe Tiffany got through to him. Maybe we should at least see what he wants."

            "Fine, but put him on speaker."

Chris accepts and puts it on speaker.

           "Daddy."

            "Hey Princess. Look I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. I shouldn't have yelled at you or even blamed Chris for what happened. I know it wasn't his fault that he was only looking out for you. I was an ass. Can you forgive me?"

            "Oh daddy, of course. I know you were just looking out of me and was worried, but Chris would never..."

           "I know he wouldn't. I know he loves you. I want to apologize to him as well."

            "I'm here Shawn. I heard everything."

            "I'm sorry Chris. I shouldn't have reacted that way. I shouldn't have yelled at you. You have done so much for my daughter. I meant what I said to you the other day. You have brought a light back into her life and I want to thank you for that. I hope you're not going anywhere, I mean... I hope you and her are..."

            Chris smiles. "We are fine. I'm not going anywhere. I'm actually here till Monday. I have the weekend off, but I go back to filming Monday. I will be filming till November."

            "Okay. Just be careful. I know you will but take care of my daughter."

            "I will. Always. I won't let anything happen to her. You have my word on that. Your daughter means the world to me."

            Her dad smiles. "Thanks Chris."

            "So daddy, did Tiffany talk to you?"

            "Yes, she told me everything. I know it wasn't Chris's fault. I know that Bradley has been doing this for a while now. He never stopped loving you, or so he says. He has been watching you ever since you broke up."

            "What!"

            "You didn't know?"

            "No! I have him blocked on Instagram. I don't see anything he posts and he can't see mine."

            "Oh, well sorry, maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but yeah. According to Tiffany who sees his posts says he has never forgotten you and that he has been watching you and when he saw you were with Chris he got mad and started saying a lot on there."

Merida looks at Chris. Chris doesn't say a word. He looks down at Dixie who is laying at the end of the couch with her head on his feet.

            "Well, I think he's gone now. I don't think I will hear from him again. Right Chris?"

            "Right. My security team took care of him."

            "Okay good! Well I guess I'll let you two go. Enjoy your weekend. I love you Princess, and again I'm sorry."

            "I love you too Daddy. Goodnight."

Chris ended the call and set her phone on the coffee table.

            "Well glad everything is okay with your dad."

            "Yeah me too. I was worried. As I said I've never seen him react that way before and it scared me."

            "I know, but you don't have to be scared anymore. It's all over." He says rubbing her shoulder.

            "Chris?"

            "Yes babe?"

            "Will I still be followed?"

            "No, I don't think you need to be unless you would feel safer that way."

            "No. I hate the idea of being followed everywhere I go."

Chris smiles. "Alright. I will tell them they don't have to anymore. But promise me, if you ever feel unsafe or think you are in danger tell me. Okay?"

            "Okay. I will."

            Chris kisses her head. "Babe?"

            "Yes?"

            "You never did answer my question."

            "What question?" She asked looking up at him.

            "The question I asked you when we played scrabble."

Merida looked up at Chris then looked back down and stayed quiet.

            "Babe?"

            "I thought you had forgotten about that question." She said without looking at him.

Chris laughs.

           "No. I haven't forgotten. I was trying to give you time and then with everything that happened I just didn't bring it back up. But...it's been two months since I asked."

            "I...I'm..."

Chris puts his hand under her chin and lifts it up so she is looking at him.

           "What is it? You scared?"

            "Yes, but...I'm...not..."

             "You're not what?"

             "I'm not ready for that."

             "Okay, I respect that. I understand."

              "You know I love you and..."

              "Babe, it's okay," he says taking her hand and rubbing it. "I love you too." He leans forward and kisses her.

Merida smiles. "You know I never told you that like your hair better this way." She says reaching up running hands over his hair.

              "Oh you do huh?"

              "Yes, I didn't really like it long. I also like you better without the beard." She says rubbing his cheek.

             "Is that so?" he asks smiling.

             "Yes, the beard tickled."

Chris laughs. "Oh it did huh?"

            "Yeah."

             "Well I can't promise it will stay like this forever. And speaking of being tickled, are you ticklish?"

           "Why?"

            "I'm just asking."

             "Don't get any ideas."

Chris laughs. "Are you?"

             "Maybe."

             "You're not going to tell me?"

             "No." she says biting her lip

              "Oh babe, you and that lip biting." He says reaching up and caressing her cheek then leaning forward and kissing her.

            "Chris." Merida says pulling away slightly.

            "Yeah."

Merida gets quiet.

            "What is it babe?"

Merida doesn't say a word she leans forward and kisses Chris on the lips then kisses his neck.

            "Babe, are you sure you're ready? We don't..."

            "Yes Chris I'm sure. I don't want to go all the way but..."

Chris smiles and lifts her chin so she is looking at him. "If you're sure. I don't want you to feel like you have to."

            "I'm sure. I want to."

Chris smiles and leans forward and kisses her.

            Chris and Merida spend the rest of the weekend together. They mostly spend it at Merida's house relaxing watching TV and playing games. They take Dixie for some walks. Then early Monday morning Chris leaves after they have eaten breakfast.

            "I will text you when I get back to Boston."

            "Okay."

            "I love you Babe."

            "I love you too."

Chris kisses her then picks up his stuff and leaves. Merida stands at the door and watches him pull out of her driveway. Once he's gone she cleans up from their breakfast and gets ready for work.

            The next few weeks go by. One night Merida is talking to Chris on FaceTime.

            "Chris?"

            "Yeah babe?"

            "Do you think it's safe for me to get back on Instagram?"

"Uh...I..."

            "I promise I will be careful."

            "I will let you on one condition."

            "What's that?"

            "You have to promise me; you won't read any comments."

            "I promise. If I do, I will be careful...I mean I will ignore them."

            "Alright."

            "I need my password. You changed it remember."

            "Oh right. Its flannagan."

            "Flannagan?"

            "Yeah. It's the street I grew up on."

            "Oh. You know it's also the name of a character in Oliver and Company."

            "Oh yes you're right. I had forgotten about that."

            They talked for another hour before they said goodnight. That night Merida got on Instagram and posted a pic.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

I was studying and Dixie put her head on my book and gave me this look like "are you done yet? I'm tired."

Merida then put her phone down beside her and went to sleep. The next morning Merida wakes up to her phone. She picks it up and sees she has a message.

Morning Beautiful

Merida sees the message and is confused. Why would Chris message her from his private account? He always uses his phone number now. They have not talked on Instagram in months.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Uh good morning. Why are you messaging me here? Why are you not using your phone number?

(Chris not putting pic again) I laid my phone down somewhere and I can't find it. So decided to message you here.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Oh, okay.

Merida still didn't know what to think. She decided to message Chris.

Merida-Morning Chris. Have you sent me a message on Instagram?

Merida sets her phone down and gets ready for work.  After she is ready and is eating breakfast her phone goes off.

Hope you have a wonderful day Babe. I love you

Merida smiles. It sounds just like Chris. But it can't be? Can it? Has he misplaced his phone and is messaging her here?

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Thanks. You too. ☺️

Merida cleans up her dishes and quickly brushes her teeth and feeds Dixie then lets her outside and heads to work. The morning goes by quickly. When nap time comes Merida is glad she has time to relax. She is patting a kid to sleep when her phone goes off.

Chris-This is Brad Chris's assistant. Be careful.Scammers are everywhere

Merida sees the message and is curious as to why his assistant is messaging her from Chris's phone and is surprised by his message. She knows scammers are everywhere, but it just doesn't make since. This is from his official account. It's the same pic and even has the blue check mark. How can it not be Chris? She hopes she hears from Chris soon.

The rest of the day goes by and she still hears nothing from Chris. That night after she eats dinner she does her homework. While she is reading she gets another message on Instagram.

Hey beautiful! Hope you had a wonderful day. I still can't seem to find my phone. Having to use my laptop to message you from my Instagram.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Oh, okay. I had a pretty good day. I'm tired. Doing homework at the moment. Not fun.

Yeah homework is never fun. Good luck with that. I miss you.

Merida smiles. It sounds so much like Chris. How could it be scammer?

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Thanks. I need it. I miss you too. I need to get to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.

Okay, goodnight beautiful. Love you

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Goodnight. Love you too.

Merida can't believe that Chris has not called her. She wants to believe these messages that tell her he can't find his phone. It makes since, since he hasn't called her. But then she remembers the message she got from his assistant saying be careful of scammers. Something weird is going on. Merida thinks. She lays down with Dixie beside her and goes to sleep. The next few days go by. She still has not gotten a call from Chris. She is still talking to who she thinks is him on Instagram. He always messages her and says good morning and wishes her a good day. At night he messages her a little but its brief. Then one Friday night, Merida has just gotten home from work and is getting ready to fix her dinner when her phone goes off. She sees she is getting a FaceTime call from Chris. She immediately answers.

            "Chris!"

            "Hey babe. I'm sorry I haven't called in a few days. I've been super busy. When I get done with filming I crash."

            "It's okay. I understand."

            "I saw the message my assistant sent you. What's going? Has someone contacted you?"

            "Uh...well...I got this message on Instagram. It looks like it was you. It had your profile picture and even had the blue check mark."

            "What! What did it say?"

            "They wished me good morning. They sounded just like you. Called me beautiful, babe and even said I love you. They told me that they miss placed their phone and that's why they were using Instagram to message me. I thought it was weird, but it made since, since I haven't talked to you. So I thought it was you."

            "Babe! I have not messaged you. I won't use my private account to message you. Now that I have your number this is the only way I will contact you. Would you copy the messages and send them to me? I want to see."

            "Okay, I will when we get off."

            "No, do it now. I will hold on."

            "Okay, if I happen to lose you, I will call you back."

            "Okay babe."

Merida minimizes her call and goes to Instagram and copies the messages and sends them Chris. She then goes back to the call.

            "Chris, you still there?"

            "Yes. I got the message. Hang on let me look."

Chris checks his message.

            "Fuck! Babe, I can see why you thought it was me. But it wasn't! I need to look into this. Are you okay with me logging into your account to check this out?"

            "Yes. I trust you."

            "Okay. And I loved your post by the way. Dixie is cute. She's really growing."

            "I know! Chris?"

            "Yeah babe?"

            "I'm sorry."

            "Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

            "For thinking it was you. I should have known better. I know you..." she says biting her lip.

            "Babe, it's okay. You have nothing be sorry for. I should have tried contact you before now. It's my fault. I've just been so busy lately and I...I'm the one who should be sorry. It's my fault." He frowns.

            "Chris, no. It's not your fault. I know your busy. I just feel so stupid! I should have known it wasn't you. I should have stopped talking to them when your assistant messaged me, but I...I was..."

            "Babe, hey, it's okay. I will take of it alight?"

            "Okay."

            "Don't talk to them anymore alright? Just ignore them if they message you again."

            "Alright. Can I still post on Instagram?"

            "Yes, just be careful."

            "I will, promise."

            "Alright. Well babe, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I need to take Dodger for a walk and try and get some sleep. I have a long day tomorrow."

            "Okay. Goodnight Chris. I love you."

            "I love you too beautiful."

Chris says blowing her a kiss. Merida smiles and blows a kiss back to him and they end the call.

Merida is about to fix her dinner when her phone goes off. She has another message and she has comments on her post.

Hey beautiful! Hope you had a wonderful day! I miss you so much.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

(pic I used earlier of the dog goes here again i wont put the pic again)

I was studying and Dixie puts her head on my book and gave me this look like "are you done yet? I'm tired."

LoveableTiff💕Liked Aww, Dixie is just so stinking cute! She is really growing too! Wow 😮

Fangirl # 2 Liked Aww, Dixie is cute. ☺️

(chris pic profile would go here not putting it again)

Liked

Dixie is adorable. She is really growing. I miss her. Look forward to seeing her again soon. ☺️I love you beautiful 😘

Merida couldn't believe it! Scott, Chris's brother had liked and commented on her post and she was sure that her Chris was the one that liked and commented on her post. Her thoughts were then interrupted by her phone going off.

Chris-Wanted to let you know, that it was me who liked and commented on your post. ☺️

Merida-I figured it was. Thanks for letting me know. ☺️

Chris-Love you babe, goodnight sweet dreams.

Merida-Goodnight Chris. Love you too 😘

Chris-😘❤️

Over the next few weeks Chris and Merida continued to talk. Merida didn't get any more messages from Chris's Instagram account. She also notices that it disappeared and knew that Chris had taken care of it. As the month passed, Merida was getting excited. It was almost November and she would be able to see Chris again. One Friday night Merida had just gotten home from work and was eating dinner when her phone went off. She saw it was Chris Face Timing her.

            "Hey!"

            "Hey beautiful. How's my girl?"

            "I'm good. I just got home. I'm eating dinner."

            "Oh sorry."

            "It's okay. You don't have to apologize. How was your day?"

            "Tiring. I'm ready for a break."

            "I bet you are."

            "I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving."

            "Okay."

            "What do you have planned?"

            "Well I always go to my dad's on Thanksgiving."

            "Well I was wondering if you would like to spend Thanksgiving with my family."

            "I would love to, but..."

            "But?"

            "I hate to not be with my dad on Thanksgiving. We always spend thanksgiving together and..."

            "I understand. How about we get together after thanksgiving? You could come to Boston with me.

            "Uh...yeah ...I guess I can."

            "You guess you can." Chris laughs. "Babe, what's wrong?"

            "Nothing. I just..."

            "Are you scared?"

            "A little. I've never met your family. What if they hate me?"

            "Babe, they won't hate you. They will love you, just like I do. You've already sorta met Scott. He can't wait to meet you in person and my mom, she can't wait to meet you."

            "You've talked to your family about me?"

            "Of course I have. Babe, I promise it will be okay. They will love you."

Merida smiles. "Okay. Would you like to spend Thanksgiving with me and my dad?"

            "I'd love to babe."

Merida smiles again. "When will you be here?"

            "I should be able to be there the day before Thanksgiving if all goes well."

            "Okay. I can't wait to see you. I've missed you so much."

            "I've missed you too babe. I need to go, but I will talk to you later alright? I love you."

            "I love you too Chris."

Kiss blows her a kiss and hangs up.

Merida is excited. She can't wait to see Chris, but she is nervous about meeting his family. He told her she had nothing to worry about, but she can't help but worry. What will they think of her? She is only a daycare teacher. She knows Chris would hate her thinking this way, but she couldn't help it. She still at times wonders what he sees in her, but she knows he loves her and would do anything for her and she loves him. She is trying to get better about not doubting herself but it's still hard.

Two days before Thanksgiving Merida has just gotten home, she has let Dixie outside and is getting ready to eat some dinner when her phone rings. She picks it up from the island and sees its Tiffany.

            "Hey girl!"

            "Mer, hey! How are you?"

            "I'm good."

            "I'm sure your better than good. Doesn't Chris come tomorrow?"

            "Yes," she smiles.

            "I know your smiling. I can hear it in your voice. When he is getting there?"

            "Not sure. He hasn't told me a time."

            "When are you going to your dads?"

            "Around noon on Thanksgiving."

            "Alright. I should be there too."

            "Oh your coming too?"

            "Yeah. I am going to Matt's soon after, so I won't be staying long."

            "Oh, okay. Glad things are going well for you and Matt."

            "Me too. He's a great guy."

            "He seems like it. I still want to meet him."

            "I know. And I promise you will soon. So you haven't had any more fake accounts have you?"

            "No, not since Chris took care of that one. I've been very careful on Instagram lately."

            "That's good. There are still crazy fan girls on there. I know you said you're not reading comments much."

            "No, I promised Chris I wouldn't. He knows it only makes me feel bad."

            "Yeah. So things with you and Chris, are they getting serious?"

            "I don't know. I mean we haven't been together but almost five months. So..."    

            "Well a lot can happen in five months."

             "True, but I'm not rushing it Tiff. I am not ready to even think about that yet."

Tiffany laughs. "Alright fine. Well I was wondering."

            "Yeah?"

            "Maybe we can have girls night when you get back from Boston."

            "Sure, I'll need it."

            "Why is that?"

            "I will need to tell all about meeting his family and..."

            "Oh right. Your nervous about that aren't you?"

            "I'm terrified! Tiff, what if they hate me? What if they..."

            "Mer, I know Chris told you they will love you! I know they will. Your amazing! I'm sure you will fit right in."

            "I hope your right."

            "I know I'm right. Stop worrying! I need to go. I'll see you in a few days. Love ya."

            "Love you too. See ya."

Merida hung up and a few minutes later Chris called her. They talked for a few minutes before he said he had to go, but he told her he would be there around noon the next day maybe a little later. After Merida ate some dinner and let Dixie back in she got ready for bed and climbed in bed and read for a minutes before finally climbing under the covers and going to sleep with Dixie next to her. She couldn't wait to see him the next day. She went to sleep smiling and dreamed of Chris.

Taglist-@cevansbaby-dove @lizette50 @nicoline1998enilocin @frogeezz-blog-blog @krissy25 @sarahrogersevans @katherineswritingsblog @nescavaneck @nescaveckdaily @angelbabyyy99 @hollybee8917 @bookishtheaterlover7

[extasiswings]

rewind the tape (pause)

I’m blaming @yramesoruniverse for this one. And apologizing in advance.  Spec fic for Cursed.  On ao3 here.

There are many things Buck never expected to happen in his life.

Growing up in Pennsylvania, he never thought he would end up in Los Angeles.  After getting kicked out of college, he wasn’t sure he would ever find a place, a career, that made him feel truly fulfilled.  

He never anticipated that he would find a family, find a purpose.  At least, not to the extent he has.

Eddie.  Christopher.  The life they’ve built together.

But more than anything else?  He definitely never thought he’d see the day when Eddie showed up on his doorstep and kissed him senseless.

And yet.

Eddie said: “I love you.”

Eddie said: “Be with me.”

Eddie said: “It’s not a mistake,” and, “Let me make you happy,” and, “Take your time.”

And afterwards, Eddie hadn’t pushed, hadn’t pressured him, hadn’t let anything change—hell, Eddie hadn’t even kissed him again.  True to his word, he’d simply…given Buck time to think.

And Buck—

Buck had finally said, “Okay.”

On one condition.

Which is why he’s sitting in the parking lot at the beach, trying to breathe through the panic threatening to strangle him as he waits for Christopher’s surfing lesson to end.  Because if he and Eddie are going to do this—as terrified as he is of fucking it up—then it needs to at least start off on the right foot.

No secrets.  No lies.

If he and Eddie are going to do this, if they’re going to be in a real relationship?  Then Buck needs them to be in it in front of Christopher.

So.  They’re telling him today.

Buck’s phone buzzes in the cupholder.  

I’ve spent enough time in that jeep to recognize it, Eddie texts.

Stop freaking out.  Everything’s going to be fine.

I love you.

Buck’s heart squeezes painfully.  

Eddie is so comfortable with this.  So confident.  So sure.  So…unafraid.

Buck wishes he had half of Eddie’s sense of ease.

For his part, he hasn’t even been able to say it back.  I love you.  

It’s stupid.  It’s only three words.  He said them to Taylor, and his feelings for her didn’t hold a candle to his feelings for Eddie.

But, he can’t seem to manage it.  

He feels too much, is the problem.  Too much love, too much fear, too much doubt.

It overwhelms.  

But he said yes.  He’s saying yes.  So he just…needs to get out of the car.

“You know you probably jinxed us with that,” Buck calls when he’s close enough to catch Eddie’s eyes across the remaining sand.  “Insisting it’ll be fine—that’s like saying the q-word on shift.”

Eddie laughs and holds out his hand.  Buck only hesitates a little before taking it.

“Jinxes still aren’t real,” Eddie replies.  “And Christopher loves you.  Even if it’s weird at first, he’ll be fine.”

Buck forces a smile, his stomach in knots.  “I hope you’re right.”

As they watch, Christopher washes back into shore with his instructor, a bright grin on his face.  

“Dad!  Did you see me?”  

“Yeah, buddy,” Eddie calls back.  “You look great.”

A moment later, Christopher starts to make his way over to them.  Buck takes a step forward and his eyes light up.

“Buck—dad didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Well, I wanted to surprise you,” Buck manages.  Fuck, he feels like he could throw up.  

Christopher opens his mouth, but then freezes.  The smile drops off his lips, the light goes out of his eyes, and his face shutters.  

Buck follows the direction of his gaze—oh.

Eddie is still holding his hand.

Buck snatches it away on instinct, panic flaring again.

“Chris—”

“How could you?”  It’s bitter, accusing, and at first Buck thinks it’s directed at Eddie. But Christopher’s eyes meet his instead, wide and brimming with betrayal, and the world drops out from underneath him.

“You promised,” Chris says. “You said you were my friend. You said you weren’t going anywhere.”

“Christopher, I’m <em>not</em> going anywhere,” Buck insists. “Why would you think—”

“Because that’s what always happens! You can’t date each other—Something will go wrong and dad won’t fix it and then you’ll leave, just like mom!”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath at Buck’s side, but Buck barely hears it. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, seeing it from outside his body and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

“That’s not fair,” Eddie says quietly, his voice steady even as his face reveals that he’s visibly shaken. “Chris—this is nothing like—I’m not going to make the same mistakes again. You don’t have to worry about that.”

But Christopher doesn’t look at Eddie—his eyes stay fixed on Buck, and it’s like he sees, like he knows every thought, every doubt in Buck’s mind.

“You lied,” he says, and Buck feels it like a slap.

“I didn’t.” His voice cracks. “I swear I didn’t. You can trust me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“For now.”

“No, never.”  At his side, Eddie starts to take a step forward, but Buck puts out a hand to stop him. He looks over, catches Eddie’s gaze—Buck sees both the realization of what he’s about to do and the accompanying resignation creep across Eddie’s face just before he adds—

“Nothing’s going to change, because we’re not going to date, okay? If you don’t want me to be with your dad like that, then I won’t.”

“Buck,” Eddie sighs, and look, Buck gets it, but his every instinct is screaming at him to either run away or fix this, and running would just make it worse, so…he’s taking the path of least resistance.

Christopher chews his lip for a long moment, before nodding once and giving them his back.

“I’ll be at the car,” he mutters, and Buck wants to follow him, but he’s pretty sure he’s done enough damage for one day.

Eddie is quiet as they track Christopher across the sand.

“I wish you hadn’t said that,” he says finally.

“It’s not the right time,” Buck replies. “You saw how upset he was—“

“Yes, I did. And clearly there are some unresolved feelings about a lot of things that I didn’t realize he was dealing with that warrant a much longer discussion and maybe a few more sessions with his therapist. But Buck…”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face and then rakes it through his hair.

“Part of being a parent? Is knowing there are times when he’s going to be mad at you,” he points out. “And sometimes—a lot of the time, actually—you’re going to have to let him be. You can’t fix the real problem by just giving him whatever he wants.”

“Why not?” Buck argues. “I told you I couldn’t do this if he wasn’t on board—what we have? You and me?  And what I have with him? It’s too important. I’m not going to fuck that up by moving too fast when everything is fine the way it is!”

“He’s scared,” Eddie replies. “So are you. So am I, for that matter. The difference is, I’m willing to be scared together.”

The way Eddie’s looking at him, frustration mixed with fond exasperation, makes Buck feel too exposed.

“I’m not a coward.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Eddie shrugs. “Look, I promised I could wait until you were ready and I meant it. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But I’m not going to let you lie to me or to yourself in the meantime. And what just happened? That was not about Christopher, that was not for him. That was for you.”

He turns his gaze back to where Christopher is a fair bit of the way to the parking lot.

“I should go.”

Buck swallows hard. He wants to sink into the ground.

“Yeah.”

“I love you,” Eddie says. “I’m going to keep saying it until you believe me.”

“I do believe you. I just—” It’s me I don’t trust.

Eddie nods. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

And then Eddie is gone, following Christopher across the sand, and Buck is left alone. Alone on a beach, watching the waves crash against the shore. Alone.

He said Eddie jinxed them, but if Buck’s honest, he doesn’t think that’s it.

It’s him. He’s pretty sure he’s just cursed.

Because somehow, no matter how far he comes, how much he grows, how much work he does, he always seems to end up right back here.