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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years

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The Princess of the Prom (Teen Sam Drake x Reader)

A/N: This was offered to me as my friend's ( @xxgoldenhour) fantasy and I promised her, that this would be the sweetest shit she'll see. Also, you don't have to win prom's tiara to be the queen for me. And it doesn't matter if you're a boy or a girl. You're the king or queen of your Prom night.

Also, take a note that this is a modern AU. Let's say that it happens today and that Samuel is aged around 19, so that makes Nate a fourteen-year-old boyo and that reader is around 18.

Description: Y/N and Sam were the best friends of high school, no denying in that. Even tho Samuel's Prom was actually amazing and fun, Y/N doesn't feel good about going on her own.

Mood for this one-shot: Night go slow by Carey Shaw, bcs the video is so good and she just got the vibe of being young, amused and in love.

It was all set up to be the best evening of her life. No. Not only the best but the best and the most perfect one. That was Samuel's first and last priority - set all up, prepare anything, get sure that there's a backup plan even if an asteroid hit the earth's ground - he managed to make everything she wanted just to make her feel as good as he could.

He told her anything she needed to know about the Prom just to make less nervous; there were those jackasses who brought vodka and tried to make punch an alcoholic drink, there were the couples who will make out the whole evening just to strangely disappear on the toilets together, but nobody pushed her to do any of that typical stuff.

This about her and her mates, who were alongside her the whole time. This was a celebration of them making such a huge step in their lives. He had his year ago, at the same high school and Y/N was there alongside him, and for him, it was the best evening of his life.

But as her prom was coming to play sooner and sooner, she was more and more nervous. He was practically woman's best bridesmaid because he got into preparations really hard and he didn't leave out anything. Her parents found it really sweet of him, but he always said that it's a sure thing for him to do all of that.

He even borrowed a nice black car from one of his friends' dad, planned the route to pick up all of her friends... You know, that boy was probably stressed about this far more than Y/N.

And the evening slowly came. It was a warm, spring-summer night with the vibe of the real summer slowly approaching. He came exactly on time, with a borrowed tuxedo in a protecting barrier put on his shoulder and with a cigarette in his mouth.

His brother was alongside him, drinking an ice tea in a cup bought in a nearby Taco Bell. Samuel didn't want to left him all alone at their place, so he asked Y/N's parents if he and Nate could stay overnight and they didn't seem to have a single problem with that since he was taking so much care about Y/N.

Y/N's brother Zachary was sitting in the armchair on the terrace and playing video games, so Samuel knew that if something, Nathan is not going to be alone. They weren't the best friends exactly, but they were pretty good pals.

As Samuel knocked on her door, she was already opening it. She looked as gorgeous as ever with a baseball team dres they bought together and in some shorts she wore only at home. Her other best friend, Crystal, was already there and helping her with the preparations; Y/N's hair had some curlers in as Crystal was trying to style her hair into a messy bun and she already had some makeup on; especially the highlight made her face look sharper and he liked how the little crystals in it reflected the light around.

Nathan liked her, she wasn't a person whom he held himself back in front of, so he fist-bumped her with a booming sound. “You look so weird,” Nathan laughed. Y/N rolled her eyes backward and grinned at Nate as she was turning back to lead them into her room.

“Well, you are definitely a ladies man, aren't you? I mean, you can make a girl feel so confident with one sentence,” she laughed as she bumped into him, tousling his hair. Nathan leaned from her as he grinned as well.

“I didn't mean that you don't look good, Y/N. I just haven't seen you wearing makeup or whatsoever, like I mean, nevee” Nathan turned his head to Sam with a wicked look. “But Sam seems to like it.” He added and then he said hi to Crystal.

She was sitting in front of a big mirror, braiding her hair into a really complex hairstyle. Crystal's eyes shined like stars when Samuel came to Y/N's room, slowly putting his tuxedo on Y/N's bed.

Everyone who wasn't blind knew, that Crystal had a thing for Samuel. And it wasn't a single thing. She was straightaway worshiping him like a fucking god. And even tho Y/N was the one whom Samuel could barely exist without, everyone thought that the right choice would be Crystal; she had the longest legs around, big smile full of the whitest teeth and she was blonde, one of the typical Plastic beach girls.

“Hey, Nate!” Crystal exclaimed in a thrilled and tone. “And hi, Sammy!” She yelled in a seriously high tone and practically jumped into Samuels' arms. Y/N and Sam grinned at each other. To be honest, everyone was expecting Sam to go there with Crystal and yet, he surprised everyone when he told them that he's going with Y/N actually. Crystal was hurt and jealous, yet she couldn't blame Y/N, because they were good friends since they met. Everyone left out a long sigh when Crystal accepted an invitation from a quarterback of the year, Terry Banks, with whom they went on the classes of Literature and Astronomy, where Y/N and Crystal ended up because Y/N loved the stars.

Sam let her go and gave Y/N a small bag.

“Oh, what could it be?” Y/N asked in an amused tone as she moved like a cat, dramatizing the whole situation even tho she knew that Sam gave her corsage.

“Can it be the gun which killed John Lennon?” Samuel furrowed as Y/N was about to continue.

“Or is it a bomb?”

“Or a weapon against vampires?”

“You're so silly!” Crystal shouted as she snatched the bag, taking the corsage out. It was truly beautiful, made out of lightly rosy roses and baby's breath and some small, wildly green leaves on an elegant black stripe of semis. And of course it matchet Samuel's boutonniere. “Its a corsage. And it's truly... Beautiful.” Crystal said with a tone of being hurt in her voice, giving Y/N the small box.

Y/N and Sam were all about that weird jokes, theatrics, and fun, just not taking anything too seriously. But a Crystal wasn't the brightest, per se, so she often ruined the magic of the moment.

“It is,” Y/N said quietly as she watched the small thing made from flowers, making them an official Prom couple. Samuel really spent a lot of money to make her evening nice, not like that Y/N's parents weren't paying anything, but the corsage was paid by him. “But you have to go now, we will be getting dressed.” Y/N left the small plastic box on her desk and nudged into his shoulder to make him leave. Sam just raised his hands as if he was showing that they are completely empty and left with an amused grin.

It took them forever. At least for him. He found himself a bathroom comfortable enough to dress into that tuxedo and even to make himself look like a human and even tho it took him at least twenty minutes, you two were nowhere to be seen. Crystal's laugh could be heard as Y/N said something utterly stupid, as always. He sat on the ground in front of her room, watching his wristwatch and playing with his hair, making it messy again.

The door opened all of a sudden as Y/N was turning her head to Crystal just to say something to her. Samuel was on his feet in a second, playing with his fingers as he watched her. She was beautiful. Breathtaking. He inhaled sharply and his cheeks got rosy as he tried to come it with something to say except 'You're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen' and 'If we were thirty, I would ask you to marry me', but nothing came up, so he rather shut up and just watched her.

Her hair was really in a curly, loose bun and now, she had long earrings smoothing over her neck. Her dress were tight around her breasts and waist, without nothing on the shoulders, but nicely loosed from around her waist to her ankles. They had baby pink, almost beige colour and so she had brigtly beige high heels on.

She must felt him staring, because she looked at him with a blank expression, making him embarrassed. But she shut up and her smile slowly dissapeared as she watched how tightly the tuxedo hugs his shoulders. When they got that huge? Did he worked out without telling her? And the way the trousers hugged his thighs... She wasn't able to spoke up for about a minute.

"See something you like?" Samuel joked with his face still red and Y/N coughed into her palm to release at least a bit of the nervousness inside of her.

"You look... Utterly disgusting, Samuel." She said in an unsure tone and walked right next to him for something, so her parfume hit his nose. He almost collapsed on the spot. When did his best friend, that ugly monster, turned into a breathtaking woman? Why didn't he noticed that? He was glad that she normally didn't wore make up or girly things, otherwise he would have to compete for her attention with a lot of boys. And that was a thing he didn't like to think about liked in general.

Normally, she would wear a high ponytail and a loose baseball t-shirt with a name of some series, band or a movie reference. She was feminine, but in her own way. Not that princess one, she was feminine in a shy, almost uncatchable one. But Crystal was that Barbie feminine type.

She had long, tight, dark blue gown and she was smiling at him, thinking about things she couldn't say out loud. But Samuel was the center of many of them.

Then he put her the corsage and she put a small rose in the pocket on his breast. She looked at him with their typical grin and almost said something about them being so official that they could marry or something, but she didn't say a word.

Her parents took at least three millions photos of them and another three of them with Crystal and then, only them, they were ready to leave. Y/N mum waved at them from the terrace as they were leaving and Y/N with Crystal waved her back.

Samuel drove slow, because he was worried about that beautiful car which weren't his and they picked up another two classmates - Terry and one of his football friends. They were really loud and Crystal laughed at some remark they had.

"Wow, Bryan, look at Y/N!" Terry exclaimed in an excited tone and Samuel hid a smile into his palm. Y/N smiled as she rotated her eyes in her own manner, laughing nervously.

"Y/N," Bryan took her shoulder in his palm and made her look at him. "I never knew that you are a woman. Samuel, you are a one lucky guy, I tell you. Don't let her off your sight, otherwise it's not my fault." He said and Samuel didn't smiled at it, even tho he normally would. He was dead serious at that moment, watching the read.

"Man, don't be like that!" Bryan yelled, laughing. "I was just joking." He smoothed her shoulder and she started laughing as well, which made Sam smile. They stopped on the school parking lot in about ten minutes. Samuel let everyone get off, Terry taking Crystal inside and Bryan waving at his girlfriend Chelsea. Only Y/N and Sam left there, and she was playing with one of the roses on the corsage Sam gave her. She wasn't feeling like it and he would sense if clearly.

"Alright, miss Grumpy, what's the matter?" Samuel leaned into her personal space, letting his elbow lock around her seat.

"I don't feel comfortable. And I might vomit in a minute." She laughed in a sad manner and Samuel looked at how everyone was slowly walking into that building. If she doesn't want to go, then he'll not push her. He can ride them back to her home, watch some movies with her and then sleep on the couch like many times before. If would not be anything new. He liked those evenings a lot, he didn't see any problem with that.

"Well, if you are about to vomit... Don't do it in the car, please, Davie's dad would murder me," he said and that made her laugh again. Samuel loved, when he could make Y/N laugh, because it was so sincere every time. It was sweet and it made him happy as well.

"Oh, that would ease my life so much," she said in a provocative tone and that made him laugh again. And she laughed as well.

"So you don't wanna go, huh?" He smiled and undid his seatbelt, relaxing on the seat itself.

"So I don't wanna go." Y/N repeated mockingly.

"Then tell me, what do you want to do or where to go. Back home?" Samuel asked quietly as if Samuel called her a psycho.

"No! You think that I dress like Crystal just to watch Friends like this?" She yelled with a smile as she wasn't fully serious. "You are an actual moron!" She undid her seatbelt with a wicked smile. And she got off the car, walking away from the school. Samuel locked the car quickly and runned after her, walking next to her backwards.

"Hi there, monster," he cried and cringe-laughed, when she hit his shoulder roughly as she was making her mad face with her little cheeks pumped with air. He was totally unbelievable, but even though he was a lovely little dork. Samuel was taller than her and even tho, Y/N called him small. "Alright, alright," Sam coughed into his palm as he couldn't stop laughing. "Where are we going?"

"I dunno where are you going, dickhead, but there a Taco Bell restaurant just a five minutes from here. I'm going to eat everything there." Y/N rose her eyebrows and Samuel laughed loudly.

"So you can't watch Friends in your prom dresses because they're too good for that, but they are suitable enough for ravaging Taco Bell?" Sam looked at her from his height and she had face of a serial killer. "You should really sort out your values and priorities." He laughed and that earned him another punch to the shoulder.

So Taco Bell was the place where they ended up in. She got some Quesadillas with chicken and cheese, some chocolate sweets and a cup of tea. Sam, who was paying, of course, got himself a burrito and Coke. They sat there for two hours, talking, laughing, topping each other with puns and jokes. They left around nine in the evening, the sun was just setting low and it made her dress look seriously fairy-taily like. He kept his eyes on her all the time. Just as Bryan told him.

"Where we'll go now?" Sam stretched, but she already going to somewhere. So he only followed.

They ended up in a nearby skatepark - and some girls around sixteen tried Y/N teach, how to skate, even borrowed her their shoes, but she was a lost one. He took so much photos and videos of her, a lot of them ending with him cracking up, laughing. She was terrible, but she didn't fall once, which was great. When they were leaving at ten pm, she didn't even put her heels on, she just walked next to him bare, jumping on and off the pavements, walking through the ice cold grass, sometimes holding his hand not to fall.

"So, how's your prom going?" He asked when they were walking down from the aisle from some trees with white flowers on them.

"Oh, it's great," she smiled at him. "I'm dancing, yelling my lungs out, laughing... I'm kidding," she smiled, jumping on another pavement. "I'm glad that I've spended this evening with you." She smiled shyly and sun was shining low in a lightly orange light so Samuel stopped her.

"Go in the middle of the road." Sam asked her and she was confused, but she did it. Samuel took a few photos of her in the sunlight and one of them immediately became his wallpaper. Then she took a few photos of him an some selfies were a necessary thing. The photos were lovely.

They walked almost through the entire city, nobody hurried up anywhere. It started to get cold by the midnight, so Sam covered her in his suit, lightly touching her fingers with his. She was icy cold.

"Oh dear!" He exclaimed and laughed, bringing her hand to his lips, warming it with the air from his lungs. She was looking her in the eyes the whole time. "You haven't told me that you're Elsa. Not yet," Samuel made a remark about her hand and she shook her head.

"And you haven't told me that you're colourblind," she rolled her eyes, slapping his shoulder. "Elsa is blue. I am almost pink. You dork." She slapped it again and left her hand there, which made the difference. Y/N leaned her head to Samuel's shoulder and left it there for a while, smelling his cologne. And she felt his lips in her hair all of a sudden.

"Samuel?" She asked and looked up. "What are you doing?" She said in disbelief, slowly looking at him. She didn't know what to say or how the fuck she should feel; she should be scared or disgusted? She should be glad? Should she just looked over it? Or what the fuck were his intentions?

"What are you talking about?" Samuel smoothed her forehead with his palm and slowly continued down to her jaw, she continued as far as she let him. And Y/N haven't moved an inch. He felt that she felt good doing that. Her eyes were smiling even tho her face was pale in pure disbelief.

What the fuck should he do? What was he supposed to do? Should he just kiss her or lean back and let her be? Should he tell her about his feelings? About those which he discovered five seconds ago? About the urge to kiss her and make her his by that act? He was confused and taken back.

Y/N was his best friend for years now and he never made anything like that, nor even though about it. Maybe the dress caused it, because it made her look seriously hot.

"I-I mean, if, I, oh, I, can you forget what happened?" Samuel stepped away and awkwardly walked from her. And that made her angry; once he looked like he hasn't seen anything as beautiful as her, and the next he chickened out like a little girl. She started to laugh and that made Samuel stop.

"Why-why are you laughing?" He asked annoyed, but Y/N continued to laugh even more after that.

"I am sincerely sorry. You always told me that you are a womanizer, no, no, no, don't you turn away from me, Samuel, the funny part is coming, but when you get the chance to kiss the girl you actually like and care about, you can't move for shit." Y/N burst out again and that made something in him click completely. In a second, her lips crush onto his and her palmed bumped into his shoulder, because he scared her so much. Samuel's hands clumsily held her waist and smoothing it in a non-ofensive manner; not too up because of her breasts and not too down, because of her ass.

Y/N calmed down after a minute, closed her eyes and leaned into him, circling her hands around his neck. Well, she could feel that she definitely isn't his first kiss, but that was the best part. She found his slicked, but messy hair and played with it gently.

They would probably stood there until the morning, but a car's horn made them jump off the road.

"Alright, cowboy," Y/N smiled and took his hands in hers gently. She touched him feather-like, so gently and lightly. "That was a pretty good first kiss."

"First?" He asked playfully, and that compliment made him smile. "So that doesn't mean it was our last one?" He bumped into her hips with his and she almost fell down; she would fall if Sam wasn't holding her hand so firmly. It didn't hurt, but it was firm.

"No, I don't think it was the last one," she furrowed her eyebrows at him like she was thinking about something. "But this," she pointed at him and then she pointed on her torso. "Will upset some people. You prommed last year, you're like my grandad practically." She laughed into Sam's direction.

"Yeah, I am a gross pedophile, that's right." Sam agreed and slowly took her to their car and they drove right to her home.

It was two am when Y/N was about to go to her bed, her hair let down on her shoulders and her make-up was far gone. Samuel left her room few minutes ago and even tho he called her a monster, his eyes were loving and smiling at her. A notification on her phone popped all of a sudden.

She cracked the knuckles on her palms and looked at the phone. It was her Instagram - Sam posted something and tagged her in. She knew that it is going to be that video where she almost fell off that damned skateboard. Even though that humiliation which was waiting for her, she opened the notification.

And she just stayed completely silent with her cheeks burning, watching her face on the display, she was smiling and she was holding his palm as if she was leading him somewhere. And the caption almost made her cry. There was that day's date and a cute little text.

@allaboutthatdrake: After a few years of waiting, it finally happened! Don't let the friend-zone ruin you, because it doesn't exist. 😉

And that was it. They officially started dating. And her prom night was the best night she ever had.

#uncharted #samuel drake #naughty dog #sam drake #young sam #young samuel drake #requested work #this is lovely #enjoyed to write it #prom #prom night #don't worry #you'll win my heart anyways

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stillhvrny · 4 years

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´ ･ . ✶ ⧼ phoebe tonkin, cis female, she & her / the angel of small death and the codeine scene by hozier + oversized t-shirt containing the entirety of the 'cool girl' monologue over a lacy black thong, sheer black tights that have been pulled at all the seams with the shadow of ouroboros inked high on pallid thigh, chipped nail polish and fingers covered in dirty bandaids and stubbed out cigarettes in an overflowing ashtray & the best faked orgasm a man could hope for ⧽ ━━ don’t look now, but that’s MONICA LAUREL "NIKKI" BARTON. the TWENTY SIX year old NEWBORN VAMPIRE has been here in seattle for no time at all, and is considered a member of VICTORIA'S ARMY / MENACE TO SOCIETY. they’ve always been SELF RELIANT & RELENTLESS, but i guess this town just brings out the worst in people ; apparently, they’ve been way more SARDONIC & REACTIVE than usual. it wouldn’t surprise me if they knew what was going on. redirect to her stat page HERE & her pinterest board HERE.

isn’t all that rage so ugly? and isn’t it mine, still? good god, isn’t it MINE?

SECTION ONE OF TWO: BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings: talk of alcoholism, drug abuse & dealing, death, murder, jail, physical assault / abuse and attempted rape

only daughter of bernard barton ( a barely functioning alcoholic ) ad jacqueline taylor ( a barely functioning addict of whatever she could get her hands on quickest ), MONICA LAUREL BARTON was born on the fifth of october, 1993, in forks, washington.

up until she was three years and two months old, monica lived with both her mother and her father in a rundown farmhouse that sat on the edge of town, inherited by bernie following his parents death, and that had certainly seen better days. it was never perfect - but in those first few years that flew by all too quickly, there was a sort of balance. it worked. bernie had his issues ; an abusive father and a negligent mother had brought a boy destined to seek answers at the bottom of a bottle into this world, and not even their death when he was in his early twenties could help curb the damage already done. jackie had HERS ; she ran away at sixteen from a homelife that left something to be desired. but they were trying their best to create a family, and they got props for their efforts. jackie had been clean for six months. bernie had been more on the wagon than he had been in twenty years. and then - like so many addicts before him, and so many more that would come after - he fell off of it again in a spectacular fashion, going on a weekend bender that didn’t come to an end until he stumbled in on a tuesday morning right before monica was meant to be dropped to preschool. he toppled into and knocked the rickety kitchen table and proclaimed, loudly, that the baby could have a day off to spend with her pops - and as jackie tried to hold her out of his each ( and the range of his alcohol soaked breath ), she had an epiphany. she couldn’t do this anymore. monica deserved better.

she had two bags packed with essentials just a handful of hours later, and after loading up their shared car, left with monica in tow - never stopping to look back or reconsider the decision that she was making. they settled in port angeles.

she’s four, five, six, and her memory of her dad is DIM, if not completely gone. she’s growing up, fast, and jackie can barely keep up - and sometimes, barely keep it together. a prescription pill here and there takes the edge off enough to get by, and she knows that it isn’t monica’s fault ; kids are difficult, and she just didn’t realize how HARD it would be, alone. monica is walking and talking and conversing, now, and she asks sometimes where her dad is and why he’s never come to anything important - she imagines, like every little kid in her situation would, all the things that he would do and all the things that she would show him, and yet when he turns up out of the blue in a wrinkled old suit, a court order in hand that says he now gets supervised visitation... she’s suddenly struck shy.

it takes a lot of those supervised visits for her to open up to him. he’s not exactly what she had imagined her dad would be like - he doesn’t always know how to respond and he never has any ideas for the games that they can play in their few hours together - but she makes do. she realizes he doesn’t know the rules of MONOPOLY or the life game, so she asks him to read to her instead, and over the next few years they get through a lot of books that way, together. it was nice.

she was eleven when her mom died. she came home from school early, and she didn’t get a reply when she shouted her greeting. she searched all of their tiny house, jackie nowhere to be found, and when she came to the bathroom door that wouldn’t budge, she knew she had to call someone. the first person to come to mind was her dad. she remembers sitting on the steps out front while he broke down the door that was locked from the inside. she remembers his shout, and then his cries, and then, a little while later, the ambulance sirens as they pulled up at the house - but it was too late. when she thinks back now, she understands the word ‘OVERDOSE’. at the time, it didn’t really click.

a lot of things had to be smoothed over, following that. she couldn’t just go home with her dad - no matter how much she cried and begged as the cops had led her to their car, kicking and screaming and biting, to wait for social services. over the months that followed, she was shuffled from foster home to foster home while bernie fought the courts. she wasn’t a prime adoptee, so he had that in his favor, but there was a lot of hesitancy in allowing him full custody when he hadn’t had that sort of access to her since she was three years old. it took them two years, in the end, to decide that he would be a suitable guardian.

they made a triumphant return to the now nearly uninhabitable barton farmhouse in forks, where she hadn’t lived in years, and as they pulled up in their little car, he had turned to her with a BRIGHT EYED smile and said they could fix it up, together. just like he and her mom had, years before. the caravan they moved into two months later when the roof finally collapsed was only supposed to be temporary. spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

in spite of that, they had a few months of perfect serenity. for a while, bernie really did hold it all together, and monica got to just be a KID. then he fell off the wagon again - like clockwork - and things changed. they always had a small amount of peace before a great amount of chaos, and over time, monica learnt to be the grown up in their relationship. she was old enough now to know that it wasn’t right, but young enough, and with just enough experience of how CRUEL the system could be, to know she didn’t want to go back to it. sure, it wasn’t great. but she was with her dad. that counted for something, right?

fast forward again. she was a bratty fifteen year old with a tongue sharp as a knife and a new name, now ; given to her by the first boy she let past her underwear - NIKKI. more out of school, now, than she was in it, she’s a party girl. at first, she drank at them to be a part of the in crowd that never did accept her, and then, she took someone up on the offer of something a little stronger that would ‘help her have a good time’, and THEN... well. it was only a short amount of time before she started taking a lotof something stronger when she realized it would help her get through sleepless nights and monotonous days when she was taking care of her father and making money in the last deadend job she had instead of going to school. she was far too young to be so exhausted, and taking on all these roles that she shouldn’t have had to, just to get through life, and they didn’t really have all that much money, so when a friend of another ex tells her about a job she could do INSTEAD of waitressing or delivering papers, she was all for it.

the first time she meets callum maarx, it’s in a denny’s parking lot. he’s more than ten years her senior, and she’s flattered by the attention that this overly charismatic man offers her. they shake hands and his touch lingers, and she’s honored, really, when he calls her PRETTY. touched when he says that he knows she’s a smart girl. she was. but not smart enough to say no to the man who would eventually ruin her life.

she assured herself with thoughts like ‘at least i’m not dealing’. it wasn’t so bad when she wasn’t the one working on a street corner and waiting for people to drop by. she was just moving gear place to place - delivering to port angeles, mostly, sometimes catching a bus to seattle depending on who was buying. she would skip school for days in a row to get the job done, and she never knew for sure where she was going or what she was doing until she got a text to say where she was needed, but she didn’t really want to know, either. something told her, even then, that the less she knew about what she was doing, the better. she was sixteen and three months old when she decided that she was dropping out of school to work with callum full time.

it didn’t really take long for her to realize he got paid a whole lot more than what she originally thought, based on her ‘wage’. she had been grateful, of course... at least at first. but she got greedy. she was trusted, by then, enough that she thought she could get away with skimming a little powder off the top in lieu of paying for her own growing habit - and she got a black eye for her efforts, and a tarnished reputation that would come back to bite, later.

she was a mule and an addict. she was trailer trash, too, something she had always been bullied for - but there were worse things, she realized. back then, though, she still had HOPE. she believed the best of people. when her high school invited her back for prom, nikki knew it was a mistake to go, but she had never been to a DANCE - and she really, truly, thought that it would all be OKAY. she goes in a dress that probably cost a lot when it was new but was a hand me down, and when she gets there, she flies under the radar - keeping to herself, and really attempting to ENJOY the night. she gets voted prom queen. she protests, but the crowd is impossible to push against, all the fellow students she had left behind making her head towards the stage where the head cheerleader, the SHOE IN, declares her WHITE TRASH QUEEN and shoves a scepter made of beer cans into her hands while her friends place a crown made of crushed up same atop the curls she had spent too long putting in place. she had always been quick to RAGE. always had trouble, keeping herself in line. her first instinct was to throw both back at the girls who had given them and exit for the nearest bathroom, to cry. her second, as discovered an hour later, when the would have been prom queen went looking for her boyfriend, was to bang the prom king in the backseat of his car. her third, ejected from the prom once and for all, was to head to CALLUM’S PLACE and ask for something STRONGER. something she had never TAKEN before. that night is the first night she tried coke. it’s not the last.

she turned nineteen. it felt like every weekend, she was bailing bernie out of the local jail. she was still running drugs and during the days when she WASN’T being a MULE she was working as a chef in a shitty two star restaurant that hadn’t seemed to care she had no qualifications to be working around food. she was working on her GED, and she was taking online courses because a part of her was hoping she could still make something of herself, but she was acutely aware, now, of the fact that she was living a life no one would have been proud of.

now she was of the legal age, her dad would disappear a lot with his friends for days - sometimes weeks at a time. he would BLOW through their savings quick as could be, and she resented him for it. the jobs she was doing for callum were more often, now, and when she came home, she hated being confronted with her dad and his “friends” ( she learned the airquotes around that word the first time one of them put his hand on her ass ) but she can’t leave the town. her reputation has been built, and she knows she could never really leave behind her own “friends” ( she’s always known the airquotes that are there, ever since that first time callum was suspicious of her - every so often he would get it in his head that she must have stolen from him, and she had broken ribs and fingers, bruised eyes and chipped teeth aplenty to show for what had happened each and every time ) - and something... something had to give. she was nearing her twentieth birthday, and she was tempting fate. she really should have known that, but it was hard to think of a life she had gotten so embroiled in as even being that much of a danger to her, anymore. that was her mistake.

here is the truth: a guy from seattle, a loyal customer of nearly eight years, had finally hit the bottom of what had seemed like an endless supply of money to waste. he had 2,000 of a 3,000 bill - meaning he was 1,000 short. nikki didn’t realize. it wasn’t her job to count all the money she was being given - she just had to get it from a to b.

here’s the truth that callum convinced himself of as he drove to her farmhouse at 3:40 am that same night, FURIOUS: she had obviously been given the full amount by his loyal customer, and she’d taken a grand and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

her dad was out, drinking somewhere in town, or maybe already safe in a jail cell for the night. she didn’t know. a part of her didn’t care, either. she was asleep on the couch when he pulled up outside. when the furious banging had started on the door she had assumed that it was her dad, after forgetting his keys again. him, or the cops, hauling his ass home.

sleepily, she had gotten up and went to open the front door - but as soon as the lock was undone, it was pushed VIOLENTLY into her, and she couldn’t regain her balance in the time that it took for callum to launch himself at her. they fell, him on top, his weight CRUSHING. he had always had a temper. a BAD ONE, like HER. she hadn’t always known - had once thought him CHARMING - but all the injuries she had ever been given at his hands, all the times she had found herself in a&e over the years since she had started working for him, they could all attest to the truth. this was different, though. this was MURDEROUS, a kind of rage that she had NEVER seen before, and it was obvious that before they got to the finale, he had thought of one OTHER way that he could make back the money he thought she had stolen.

nikki wasn’t much of a fighter. she had never been formally trained, sloppily using her fists to solve her problems, but never really knowing how to land her shots PROPERLY. but she was a SURVIVOR. that had shown itself clearly enough throughout the years. she had survived the system for the two years she was in it. she had survived her dad, and her life, and she had pulled together SOMETHING out of nothing for herself. even SHITTY, her life was her own. she struggled beneath him and he hit her, over and over, but between it, he was finding a way to begin tearing at her clothes - making his way THROUGH them - and gods, she wasn’t going to let this happen. she REFUSED. there was an old iron doorstop in the front hall, that had been in the house since her grandparents had owned it. things were happening FAST, he was already at her underwear, she could barely move, but she stretched her arm as much as she could, grimacing through the pain, and she REACHED, and REACHED, and strained her fingers as far as they could go -

she was a SURVIVOR. she wasn’t going to die. she wasn’t going to let him get what he wanted, either. she doesn’t remember actually hitting him with it. she doesn’t remember how she KEPT hitting him with it, tears streaming down her face, until he fell away from her and she was able to move away. he wasn’t moving. a half an hour later, she was sat on the front steps of her house, just like she had when she was eleven. WAITING. except this time, she was drenched in blood and tears and waiting on the cops that she had called, not her dad, and the person that was dead inside wasn’t her mum, but CALLUM.

she didn’t expect a fair trial. no one could blame her that, could they? she had put the book in their hands, and she expected for them to lob it at her, full force - the trailer trash daughter of an alcoholic, who got too caught up in a dangerous world. she was the perfect young offender. shockingly, the evidence spoke in her favor. in the end, she was sentenced fairly quickly, but it was ruled justifiable homicide. she felt numb, in the stand. as they read her sentence - four years max, two with good behaviour - she realized she should have been crying. someone had given her a break. she should have felt good about that, but... really, she just felt empty.

two years passed quickly. nikki kept to herself. she tried to keep herself out of trouble. for the most part, she succeeded - well enough that, soon enough, she was being pushed out the side door clutching what she’d been signed in with, blinking in early morning light and wondering what the hell she was going to do with her life now. her twenty second birthday was only a few months away, and her dad was nowhere to be found when she returned to forks ; dipped out of town before she had even been sentenced. the farmhouse was chilly and unwelcoming, and people didn’t WANT to employ someone like her. she took the first job she could - back in that shitty restaurant, waitressing for the most part and trying to work out what to do with the rest of her life, on the side.

she meets the young upstart when she spills soup on him. the towns youngest detective probably didn’t realize how BAD a restaurant it was when he decided to bring his tinder date there for a meal, and nikki’s sure she only made it worse by ruining his knit jumper and scalding his back. she feels pretty bad about it, too, though she also refuses to take responsibility ; someone left a bag out, and she tripped over the strap. he leaves without compensation but with a grumpy apology. she doesn’t understand why he bothers to come back, but a week later - there he is. and he’s not looking on tinder, anymore. he waits until her shift is done and then offers to buy her dinner. they go somewhere not too far away, and they share a bottle of wine over a considerably better quality meal.

that first night, when they stumble through the door of his apartment and just manage to get it shut behind them, she’s quick to tell him that it’s just SEX. she repeats that sentiment every time after, though she does stick to her guns in REFUSING to put a label on what they become. it’s been so... long, since nikki felt a connection with somebody. she doesn’t even want to acknowledge that she feels one with him - but he makes it so easy. he is newer than she is to town, and at first she thinks that he just... never heard about her, or her family, or what happened. when she finally tells him herself - an act of self sabotage, the belief being that he would surely run in the opposite direction - she finds that, of course he knew all along. he just didn’t care.

they see other people, and that works for a while - but eventually, jealousy wins out. nikki is not the best at monogamy, and he can’t say he’s ever really tried ; but after nearly two years of being what they are, it’s time to face facts. they’re in love, and there isn’t much they can do about it.

it defies understanding - but they work. the convict and the police detective. unlikely pair, for sure, but she makes him smile and he brings peace to who she’s become. they argue, sometimes pettily, but at the end of the day they can usually admit fault or move on - and she’s never wanted to be worthy of someone so GOOD, ever, in her life. callum left a stain on her, she thinks. something that she’ll spend a lifetime trying to erase - it was so hard to trust someone, after, but she trusts him. she LOVES him.

the last time they spoke was an argument. something stupid. she made sure to slam the door of his apartment - hers, too, in all but deed - and spent the night back at the farmhouse, a place that she only visits when necessary, by now. he calls. she ignores. the next day, she gets ready and drives to seattle to get him a gift for his upcoming birthday - figuring that they’d make up later in the night, like always, and things would be FINE. it gets dark earlier than she’s expecting, and she kind of misplaces her car. the city is unfamiliar, and she thinks that she’s taking a shortcut when she heads down one side street.

nikki isn’t sure why she was the one. why those three guys chose to attack HER, out of everyone in the city that night. at first, she thinks it’s a mugging, and she almost wants to laugh ; if they want money from her, they’re not going to find much. but that’s not what they have in mind, and she realizes this as one of them pushes her against a brick wall with all his strength and the others begin.. tearing at her. she’s vicious in defense of herself, her mind filled with the memory of CALLUM, though this time, she doesn’t have a doorstop to grab for. this time, she mightn’t...-

she doesn’t see where he comes from, but all of a sudden, there is a boy, and he shouldn’t be ENOUGH, except he is, and the men hurting her, trying to do more...- they’re not a match to him. nikki’s knees buckle, and she falls to the floor. when he’s finished, he turns red eyes on her - reaching out a hand, after a moment passes, and offering it to her. she doesn’t realize what TAKING it means.

the pain of transition is NOTHING to the thirst when she awakes. riley turns her himself ; seeing something savage, there, something USEFUL. she just wants to go back to the home she’s grown used to, but...- but she realizes, quickly, it isn’t possible.

SECTION TWO OF THREE : HEADCANONS

it’s always the spouse, right? nikki has no idea that her disappearance has caused something horrible to happen, back home, and that her LONG TERM ( ex ) partner is now under investigation for murder. nikki lived like a slob on the best of days, so the apartment seemed to be the sight of something - and the fact he freely admitted to a fight didn’t help. she really is... the amy elliot dunne of equinox.

nikki had been sober for six months and counting when she was turned, and frankly - this is the EXACT sort of thing that would have resulted in a relapse, except... you know. she can no longer get high.

she’s a rly sexual person, and a lot of that rly leads back to her... really not being aware that there’s other ways in which to display that sort of care, for people. it’s always been all or nothing, and nikki only really started to learn that it didn’t have to be in the past few years.

when it came to an argument, nikki was always the child who jumped straight to violence, and never to calm words. she used her FISTS to solve her problems - she pulled hair, she used her teeth, she would do what she had to. again i say, no formal training ; but she has always been a survivor.

she’s all... leather jackets and short skirts / shorts. all of the pairs of tights she owns ( sheer black or fishnets ) are pulled at the seams and have gaping holes in them, and most of her t-shirts and crop tops say something terrible on them ( ranging from ‘make a girl cum for once’ to ‘jesus wouldn’t do coke in the bathroom’ to the cool girl monologue ). she’s never rly lost her sense of #style

nikki has a bunch of tattoos, including but not limited to: a black and white sunflower on her right forearm, ouroboros on her left thigh, ‘i know my rights’ on her side, a cross on her left knee, ‘eat me’ on her pelvis and a rose between her tits. she also has septum and belly button and six piercings in each ear, though she had been in the process of allowing most of those to close up to really begin embracing her new ‘wearing hoop earrings large enough they might just graze her shoulder’ aesthetic

SECTION THREE OF THREE : WANTED CONNECTIONS

so many. since she ( kinda )grew up in forks, the small town world is your oyster !

she could def have some distant relatives ( give me .. cousins ), and i wld love her dad and herself to be classed as the black sheep of the family tbh

i feel like i have so many chars w this specific connect but... foster fams she lived with during the two yrs she was bouncing around a bit !

literally any kind of small town connect u can think of. coworkers, friends, enemies, people who wld buy off her, ppl who knew the guy she killed

the guy she slept with at prom - he was voted prom king, dating the girl who crowned nikki ‘white trash queen’,,, kinda lowkey got used, but it wld be a fun one

hell. also that chick

ppl she was in jail with lmao

flings ! ex especially, but i wld really be down wth one ( 1 ) purely physical vampire heightened emotions fling

#equinox.intro #˚ 　　biography 　 .　　 . ⊹ parts of her died in the house she grew up in.

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promdressidea-blog · 6 years

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(通过 Plunging Neck Black Prom Dress from HelloDress)

#prom dres #mermaid prom dress #black prom dres

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galaxy-parker · 6 years

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Dance The Night Away

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Summary: Where it’s prom season and Peter really doesn’t know how that works

Request: OOOOOO GURL gimme some peter fluff x reader. so, i was thinking maybe like a prom-posal kinda deal but peter goes like all out, with a banner, flowers, dresses up and he’s super awkward all day until the promposal and ur just like wtf dude chill out (read x peter aren’t dating but they both like each other) yayyyyyy

Warnings: There’s one bad word, watch out!

Word Count: 2K

A/N: It’s not prom season but I freaking loved this, thanks @greekdemigodwannabe for the request! <3

~~~

Peter’s hands seem to be sweating before he even comes upon the idea of asking you to prom, and he doesn’t even come up with it until hours later, until the constant beads of moisture forming on his skin become worrisome.

But finally, the question pops into his head while riding the train with you after school. You’re bobbing your head to your favorite song by your favorite band, one earbud used by you and the other residing with him. You’re humming under your breath, softy and off-key and your hands are gripping the pole right under his, fingers brushing ever so slightly when the car jerks too much to the side.

The question is already formed, the words sitting perfectly still on his tongue but then you look up and smile at him and he chokes. He chokes because will he risk it? Can he?

You look up at him suddenly, as if hearing his anxious thought and shoot him a happy, carefree grin and suddenly the hand thing makes sense.

The question presses again, more insistent now but he shoves it away because you surely don’t want to go with him and he surely wouldn’t ask you in a smelly, crowded train car anyways.

A grin covers your face -this time not directed at him- as you look over his shoulder and he follows your gaze to a boy standing near the doors with a giant folded poster clutched in his hands, the last word barely visible, scrawled in near perfect calligraphy. Prom?

He looks back at you and you seem content. ‘Prom season,’ You mouth at him and he shrugs a shoulder with a smile.

You repeat the words again when the boy finally stumbles through the doors two stops later, but this time with an accompanied sigh.

Peter arches a brow. ‘What’s wrong with prom season?’ The question is out of his mouth before his brain has the chance to catch up.

You shake your head and flick a lock of hair over your shoulder before adjusting your bag, the red and black Spider-Man button adorning it shimmering in the light. His heart swells. ‘Nothing, it’s the best season.’

You say it with such conviction as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and his stomach begins doing flips as a result.

‘Has- uh- has anyone asked you yet?’ He stutters, stumbling over the sentence and failing miserably at making it sound casual.

‘Not a soul,’ You loose another sigh, this one cusping on disappointment. ‘Hey, someone will ask you,’ He encourages, trying not to let it slip that he’s debating on doing just that, and your expression morphs from disappointment to completely smug.

‘What, like you?’ There’s nothing but confidence and jesting in your voice and Peter’s face flushes a bright red as he stutters out half an excuse before you let out a loud laugh, slapping your knee and blissfully ignoring the glances you receive for it. ‘I’m kidding, Pete, jeez.’

‘Right,’ The chuckle that follows from his lips is awkward, to say the least, and he rubs the back of his neck, sure that it’s the same bright color as the rest of him.

‘You should have seen your face,’ You shake your head, biting your lip between your smile. ‘Iconic.’

He sticks his tongue out at you playfully and you do the same without hesitation, your face scrunching up so adorably that it almost physically hurts him and yeah- he’s gonna ask you, he decides.

‘How about you?’ You steer the conversation away from yourself but he barely takes notice. ‘Are you going with Liz?’

‘What? No,’ He chuckles out the last word, shaking his head so violently that his curls fly into his face with the gesture. You roll your eyes, reaching up to smooth them back and he honestly tries not to die right in the middle of the train car.

‘Come on, didn’t you have a thing for her?’

‘Yeah, like, forever ago,’ He states, adjusting the strap on his own bag and rolling his shoulders before moving his hand on the pole in a way that brushes against yours with even the slightest movement. Smooth, he thinks, the word echoing in his brain.

Dork, echoes in yours.

The conversation dies out then and you begin to talk about things of little importance, Peter all the while trying to figure out ways to ask you out and you- unbeknownst to him- trying to give them.

A short ten minutes later the doors creak open again at your stop and you shoot him one last smile and a: ‘Bye, Peter,’ before jumping through the already closing doors. His hand suddenly feels cold without yours next to it.

‘Bye, Y/N.’

~~~ It’s only one day later and Peter has already spilled his secret to Ned and MJ, both of whom have sworn not to breathe a word to you about the situation. They try to help him as best they can, offering ideas and options that he mostly rejects and even going as far as to google How To Prompose, revealing a string of good but not nearly good enough solutions to his imminent problem.

Really, Peter is on the verge of giving up and letting some random jock you’ve talked to maybe twice ask you to the dance when something big and bright flashes across his screen and he thinks he’s finally found the perfect way.

The name of your favorite band sits plastered on his phone in big black letters, part of an add for tours and dates and spotted next to it, slightly smaller but no less appealing are the words tickets available.

He doesn’t hesitate to flip his phone around and show Ned, who immediately offers a splitting grin and an enthusiastic thumbs up.

MJ is next and she purses her lips as her eyes scan over the small screen, cocking her head to the side before reaching over and plucking the device from Peter’s hands.

‘Hey!’ He grapples for it, desperate to retrieve the stolen item but MJ dances out of his way, fingers furiously tapping at the screen, eyebrows furrowed tightly until she finally lets out a deep sigh and hands the thing back to him.

‘That’s a lot of money, Peter.’

The price flashes up at him now and his heart jumps halfway up his throat because it might be a bit more than what the average prom date -or friend for that matter- spends on a date and normally he wouldn’t even be able to afford it but-

‘It’s a good thing Mr. Stark pays well.’

Ned lets out a shocked laugh, patting Peter on the back and MJ merely shakes her head, a small smile playing in her lips as she slips back into her seat and nudges him, just as you run up to the table with a groan.

‘You’ll never believe who’s gonna be in town,’

~~~

The day arrives nerve wrackingly slow and painfully fast all at once, and Peter’s practically planned out every second. From start to finish he’s got a plan and a backup plan and a backup plan for the backup plan.

He knows how the day will carry from the second he wakes up to the second he pops the question, the only thing he can’t plan is your reaction to it.

So he arrives at school almost vibrating with nerves, a suit folded neatly in his locker as well as a banner, flowers and concert tickets divided between his, Ned’s and MJ’s and yes he really likes you and no he doesn’t want to mess this up, so he takes every precaution and works out every detail because this has to be perfect, you deserve nothing less.

And he tries to act normal, really he does but this feels like a make or break, it feels so important and so real that acting normal is almost out of the question, and it doesn’t take you five minutes around him to figure out something is different.

‘Are you okay, Peter?’ Your voice is soft, your words concerned and he turns his head to you, ears toning out the teacher that drones on in the front of the class.

‘Y-yeah, I’m fine,’ He squeaks out, shooting you what probably looks to be more of a grimace than a smile and you frown. ‘Why do ask?’

‘Seriously?’ You glance to the front of the classroom once before leaning towards him. ‘You’ve been bright red all day and you can barely get a word out.’

Peter feigns confusion, scratching the back of his head with a scoff. ‘No, I’m not.’

‘Yeah, you are,’ You shake your head with an incredulous smile. ‘Come on, Pete, what is it?’

His heart stutters in his chest, he doesn’t want to lie to you, but he doesn’t want you to know either. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ He whispers before turning back to the front of the class, dismissing the conversation and wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers.

It isn’t a lie, technically.

He sees you nod in the corner of his eye, accepting the answer and his nervousness slows for just a moment before spiking up again almost immediately at the thought of practically laying his heart and your friendship on the line.

God, he hopes you say yes.

And only two hours later he’s standing in the hallway in a wrinkly suit, with flowers clutched in one hand and band tickets in the other, making a mental note to never change in the boys restroom again because it’s a wonder he hadn’t ripped some part of his suit or some part of his body for that matter.

But now, with only two minutes before the bell rings and the hallways flood with his fellow students and peers -all with some judgement on his choice whether good or bad- he can’t worry about the state of his suit, or if you’ll like the hand-painted banner he made (technically MJ made, but he helped) or the concert tickets clutched in his hand; he only worries about you, about the state of your friendship and if this is the right choice or if he’s about to ruin what you two have forever.

He glances back at Ned, who’s gripping one side of the brightly colored banner- littered in the lyrics and song titles you love, composing the dreaded question- MJ holding the other and gives him a reassuring smile which he shakily returns while Michelle offers him a thumbs up with her free hand.

He turns back around just as the bell rings, the shrill noise filling the hall and there’s barely a moment of hesitation before students are filing into the hall, some inching around him and his entourage and some stopping to watch, the sound of squeals even appearing as Peter’s motive for standing there becomes clear.

His eyes flit to the sources of the noise for only a moment before you appear in the doorway of your last class, bag slung over your shoulder and an easy smile resting on your face.

You don’t see him at first, instead pushing through the people crowding the halls and his heart beats in his chest, harder and louder then he ever thought possible until finally your gaze falls on the banner suspended between Ned and MJ’s bodies behind him and the shit-eating grins on their faces, on the tickets and the flowers still gripped between his fingers and finally on him.

‘Hey,’ He sounds as sheepish as he feels, standing there.

‘Hi,’ You laugh once before your eyes flick down to his clothing choice. ‘I like the suit.’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ He shrugs as shoulder, looking down at the fabric himself. ‘It’s for special occasions, you know?’

‘Right, of course,’ You clear your throat before rocking back on your heels, noting the pink in Peter’s cheeks and the nervousness in his gaze. ‘Who’s all this for?’

‘Oh, that wasn’t obvious?’ The question sounds playful and Peter is taken aback by his own confidence, despite the blushing and still remaining jitters. You laugh again and he glances at the banner, Michelle and Ned not-so-subtly egging him on before he turns back to you, a lopsided smile bright on his face. ‘Y/N, will you go to prom with me?’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

~~~

Taglist:

@minnie-marvel @holland-haven @greekdemigodwannabe @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @e-ms-world @secondsineternity @sadicallyrad @laurfangirl424 @hedwigthelegend @hazzyhollander @magic-marvel @lokis-sunflower-anna @that-really-awkward-dinosaur @spiderdudeparker @dontpanc @vodkaqueensstuff

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beyondshoping · 2 years

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Chic A-Line High Neck Sleeveless Short Prom Dress 8 Grade Graduation Dresses Black Homecoming Dresses

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daisda · 3 months

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Daisda Black Mermaid Romantic Beaded Evening Dress Spaghetti Straps

#fashion dress #black prom dres #black beauty #black dress #black gown #evening dress #party dress #long prom dress #formal dress #ball gown

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shinyparty · 6 years

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V Neck High Low Black Prom Dresses, V Neck Red Prom Dresses, Black Graduation Dresses

#shinyparty #prom #dress #formal #dresses #v neck prom dress #v neck #high low dress #red #black #red prom dress #black prom dress #prom dresses #evening dre #graduation dress #homecoming dress #grad dress

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lov-elicy · 4 years

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mermaidweddingdress85 · 4 years

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