#gee what the hell do i even tag anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zannolin · 5 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @beautyofsorrow, tagging @lordgrimwing @faebriel and anyone else who wants to do it!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

publicly associated with my account, 45. in total, including a couple i orphaned before i knew you could put them on anon, 84 i believe. 85 if you count the two chapters of that leakira zine i wrote that are up there somewhere. i could be off. but i forgot how to get to where it shows me the total number and i can't be bothered lol.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

438,464 baby. maybe 500k in 2024? who knows.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

ones 90% of you have never heard of, at this point. it fluctuates depending on whatever i'm getting ideas for, but actively at the moment, the mullverse (mostly beyonders), resident evil, and lockwood & co, national treasure (might be done with that tho, i've exhausted my must-writes). i have other stuff knocking around, like life is strange, mona lisa smile, mlp, some more shazam, bendy and the ink machine, a tlou fic...but who knows.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

ugh. 1. in this fearful fallen place (i will be your home) 2. welcome home, theseus 3. sanctuary 4. i'll carry the weight of you, i swear 5. eat you alive. it says a lot that only one of those is still publicly listed on my profile. even then i'm tempted to put it on anon. they're only my top kudos'd by virtue of being from a big fandom. definitely not my best. at all. even within that fandom. free me and my stats page.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

not all of them, but i make an effort when comments are thoughtful or especially brighten my day. it's easier now because writing for smaller very niche fandoms you don't tend to get a lot so i don't feel overwhelmed or anything, but man responding is hard sometimes. i want people to know they made me happy, though, when they do. so i try.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i mean there's that tododeku one where they both die brutally and were supposed to get married next week. there's also the batcat fic that i wrote solely for the purpose of killing bruce wayne (sorry). there's um. also the klance titanic (historical not titanic the movie) au i wrote ages ago. haha. yeah. anyway.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

all of them. hfdsjkhfs no i honestly couldn't tell you. i have a mike flanagan-ass idea of a happy ending these days. maybe three's a crowd? hell if i know.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i've had a couple instances of people harassing me over them but never like. "your fic is so bad i hate it die". so maybe?? i'm too obscure to be getting hate at this point lol. who out here is gonna read beyonders fic just to comment mean things.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do not. i did try years ago. that notebook has since been put through the shredder and dumped into the recycling bin for good measure. (yes, it was that bad.)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

technically no but i've thought about it sometimes. they've all promptly fled my head though so just trust me on this one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

gee i hope not. there's been a lot of suspicious similarities in some old cases but like. that literally does not matter to me anymore idc. it's not straight up theft in any case so not to my knowledge ig?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again not to my knowledge but i do have blanket permissions for that if anyone ever wanted to. it's cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

back in the 2010s my friend and i were writing a warriors fic together. she did one chapter, i did one, etc. i've had collaborative aus as well (cat's cradle and whatnot) but not a collaboratively written fic for any of them. me and tam were writing the coma au together but we're no longer in the fandom for that anymore, rest in peace coma au you were genuinely wonderful. i'm not opposed to the idea of collab fics but they always feel like a lot of work and i'm way way way too anxious to approach anyone about them.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

ah hell. i dunno. do i have to pick one?? like right in this moment i'd say locklyle and they've been here a hot minute (like. ten years almost) but i don't really have A Favorite I'd Choose Over Anyone Else.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

mm. penumbra anastasia au haunts me. i want it out of my wips folder. also wild geese is probably never getting finished ever. i do think i'll get split ends done eventually but that one's taking forever. as for ones not posted, well, rip the gospel tent au. i might try to convert it to a short story but lord. i don't know. and don't get me started on the final girl au or the empty grave possession au. throwing myself out a window. they'll never be done i'll never be free.

16. What are your writing strengths?

uh. i honestly don't know anymore. knowing exceedingly tedious canon details to the point where i can make all sorts of metaphors and allusions relevant to said canon? i really couldn't say. introspection i guess.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

yes. next question

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i have an overbearing anxiety that i will fuck it up somehow since i am a monolingual american loser. if i ever did need to i would definitely see if there's any native speakers willing to help translate or whatever bc i am not relying on google translate for that.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

like liv, lord of the rings. i still have my first fanfic btw. it's written on tinkerbell notebook paper.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

it changes. if i were to be completely objective (or as close as i can get), completely removing my emotions on fandom from the equation, prob without anesthetic. because i think i constructed it just right. being a dirty little subjective, right now i think it's three's a crowd or swallowing jupiter or the swing of things. they're all wonderfully unhinged.

#ask games #dash chatter #long post

6 notes · View notes

tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"....So I Married A Murderer" *Chapter 4*

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Look I know I'm not helping myself with the Olivia stans, but in my defense this is a totally legitimate situation. And valid feelings towards Olivia given said situation. I'm not saying she's actually the bad guy here, but from an outsider's prospective without having actually seen what Lewis did to her, it's really just Olivia's hearsay. Am I wrong?!

That being said you know she's always gotta have that thing for Rafa, wedging her way in there. I'm sorry, it has to happen.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

@word-scribbless

@storiesofsvu

@believinghurts

------------------------

“Uh, who is it?” Rafael called through the door, still panting from the work out his was mouth was getting.

“It’s me,” Olivia’s voice came back through.

“Shit…” Rafael pushed you off him and straightened himself up. You had never seen him ‘jump’ so fast when someone beckoned. Then again you hadn’t really seen him at work; but you thought he’d be more dominant than he was acting.

“Come in,” He instructed as he smoothed out his suit. Olivia opened the door and walked in, her face went from a smile to a scowl when she saw you standing there.

“Is this…?” She eyed you.

“Olivia this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” He gestured to you.

You had to smile, even though you were severely uncomfortable with the awkward exchange and introductions. You really hadn’t heard Rafael ever introduce you to anyone, let alone as his girlfriend. And also, you were relieved he still thought of you as such. Although you weren’t really sure how long that was going to last.

“Oh she’s your girlfriend now?” Olivia crossed her arms, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. What was her problem?

“What are you talking about Liv?” Rafael took your hand defensively. “She’s always been my girlfriend, you know that,”

“Uh huh and now that she’s in cahoots with Lewis?”

“Cahoots,” You snickered, causing the both of them to give you a look. “What? It’s a funny word…” You now looked at the floor in embarrassment. Excuse you for trying to lighten the mood.

“She’s not in ‘cahoots’ with Lewis…” He assured Olivia, then turned to you. “Are you, carino?”

“Uh…” How were you supposed to answer that? Obviously you weren’t helping him plan his next murder, but you also came down here with the specific intent to defend him to Rafael. Your pause gave both Rafael and Olivia concern.

“Y/N…” Rafael said more seriously, dropping your hand.

“Well…” You tugged at your blazer. “I’m not helping plan any murders, if that’s what you’re saying,”

“Oh my god…” Rafael muttered, looking away from you.

“Raff, look--”

“No no no,” Olivia now stepped in between the two of you. “No ‘Raff’, lady,” She glared at you.

“Excuse the hell out of you, woman,” You glared right back.

“If you’re planning on helping that monster with anything--” Olivia got in your face.

“Why is he a monster?” You stepped right into her, not afraid of her tough guy act.

“Excuse me?” Oliva narrowed her eyes harder.

“I want to hear in specific details, just exactly why you think he’s a monster,” You challenged her.

“Wha--?” She looked at Rafael in disbelief. “Because he kidnapped me? Tortured me? Almost killed me?!”

“From what I saw you almost killed him, Ms. Benson,” You said snidely.

“Excuse me?” Olivia was stunned at your defiance.

“I saw the scars on his face, and his damaged ear. He’s partially deaf now, because of you,” You explained.

“Wow…” Olivia exhaled sarcastically. “WOW….”

“Y/N,” Rafael’s voice softened. “No offense but, you don’t know what you’re talking about--”

“Are they fake?” You asked.

“What?” He replied quizzically.

“The scars,” you clarified. “Are they fake?”

“Well no, but--”

“So she did beat him within an inch of his life?” You gestured towards Olivia.

“I HAD TO!!!” Olivia screamed.

“BULLSHIT!!!!!!” You screamed back at her.

“Y/N!” Rafael yelled, trying to get your attention over the screaming.

“You’re telling me, that once you got him unconscious,” You narrowed your eyes. “Which, let’s be real would only take a few blows to the head, if not just one,”

Olivia exhaled again, crossing her arms and looking away from you as you approached her slowly.

“That you couldn’t have just-- I don’t know, run away? Gotten help?” You got even closer, lowering your voice to a growl. “That you just had to beat my husband to all hell?”

“Y/N…” Rafael’s voice sounded hurt now, hearing you call Lewis your husband.

“Yes,” Olivia stuck to her guns.

“You’re a fucking liar,” You resisted the urge to spit in her face as you backed away from her.

“You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you Barba?” Olivia scoffed.

You suddenly remembered Rafael being in the room, hearing you defend Bobby like that. You turned to see him with tears in his eyes, betrayal on his face.

“Y/N you need to leave,” Rafael said in a soft but terse tone.

“No,” You crossed your arms now. You did feel bad that you were turning on him, but if he was going to defend this bitch just because she was his friend, you were angry at him too.

“Rafael,” You lowered your voice but kept your anger. “Look you weren’t there. You’re just taking her word for it--”

“And you’re just taking Lewis’s word for it!” Rafael didn't falter

“Because he was my HUSBAND!” You exclaimed angrily. If he wasn't backing down, neither were you.

“She’s my BEST FRIEND!!!” He argued,

“Oh is she? Now she’s your best friend? Because that’s not what you said the other night. Or were you lying to me?” You now were starting to doubt anything he said to you.

“W-What?” Olivia said softly, making Rafael turn to her sadly. Now she had the betrayed look on her face.

“A I told you not to tell her, and B--” He paused as he walked over to Liv with a pathetic look before turning back to you. “I thought you were.”

“You thought I was?” You bit your lip, afraid of what was coming.

“Y/N if you’re going to...to choose that monster over me, how the fuck am I supposed to consider you a friend?”

“I’m not ‘choosing’ him Rafael,” Angry tears stung your eyes. “You KNOW she’s lying! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Look you weren’t there either Y/N,” Rafael said sternly. “You don’t know the kind of trauma he put her through--”

“So that makes it okay?” You challenged him, still glaring at Olivia. “Last time I checked, the NYPD wasn’t built on ‘Marshall Law’,”

“It wasn’t--” Rafael started.

“I didn’t kill him!” Olivia defended herself.

“Oh gee detective, how kind of you,” You mocked her. “You let him live with severe deficits because-- what? He wouldn’t sleep with you? Because you had a bad trip?”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED, YOU LITTLE BITCH!!!!!” Olivia charged you, and before Rafael could do anything she was on top of you, slapping the shit out of you.

“OLIVIA!!!!” Rafael screamed before immediately pulling Olivia off of you. You stood up in shock and anger, your face hot and swelling from her hands across it.

“...And you’re going to believe THAT, over Billy?” You gestured to Olivia.

“Alright that was a little much--” He conceded to Olivia's little stunt.

A LITTLE MUCH?!” You now screamed while stomping your foot. “I didn’t even do anything to her, and she ATTACKED me!”

“You were cornering her--” He kept making excuses for her.

“You’re still defending her,” You laughed dryly, tears apparent in your voice. “She just attacked me, and you’re still defending her,”

“Y/N,” His voice was now soft and sorry. “Baby, I--” He went to take your hand.

“No,” You snapped it away and backed away from the two of them. “Don’t you fucking dare start ‘baby’ now, Rafael,”

“You had the audacity to act betrayed when I defended Billy, who has never done ANYTHING to you. When you-- you ACTUALLY see your little ginger there attack me, and defend her?” Angry, hot tears now spilled down your face.

“Baby please--” He begged you just as he had at your house the night before.

“No,” You shook your head. “No, I’m not falling for this-- ‘baby please, I love you, you’re in danger, I’m the good guy,’ bullshit anymore,”

“It’s not bullshit!” Rafael replied frantically. He knew he was losing you.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, the only ‘monster’ here is her,” You gestured towards Olivia who was still quietly raging from earlier.

“You know Billy wants to get back together,” You said simply to Rafael.

“What….NO,” Rafael was really beginning to panic now. “No you can’t go back to that--”

“If you say ‘monster’ one more time I swear to God Rafael--”

“What, are you gonna hit him?” Olivia mocked him.

“No, that’s what YOU do, captain!” You spat.

“Amor, please don’t do this,” He used spanish pet names, knowing they were your weakness. “Please don’t just go back to him because you’re mad at me. You don’t know what he’ll--”

“He won’t do anything to me, Rafael,” You rolled your eyes.

“B-But you don’t even love him anymore--” He stammered.

“MAYBE I DO!” You screamed angrily.

“W-What?” Rafael gasped.

“Billy left me, Rafael,” You started to cry.

“I didn’t leave him. Yeah he hurt me, he broke my heart. But--” You looked up at the sky, really hating to admit this to him. “But I never stopped loving him,”

“....Well he doesn’t love you,” Rafael’s face now turned to a deep dark scowl. “He told me that himself,”

“Oh, did he?” You rolled your eyes, licking back your tears.

“He did,” Rafael’s voice was now eerily calm and quiet.

“He said that he stopped being in love with you a long time ago, that he wanted to kill you. The only reason he didn’t is because he didn’t want to upset your daughters!”

“That’s not--” You shook your head.

Maybe it was true, but maybe he just wanted to kill someone, not you. Sure it wasn’t the greatest argument, but right now it was all you had. You weren’t about to concede to Rafael right now, not after all the bullshit that just went down.

“He said the only reason he doesn’t want me with you is because he doesn’t like people touching his ‘things’!” He went on. “He called you a THING, Y/N. Not his wife, not a person, a THING,”

“Shut up,” You growled.

“He’s just manipulating you, Y/N,” He kept a stern tone. “He’s playing you so that he--”

“So that he can what, Rafael?” You cut him off. “Go back to killing people? You don’t think he’s been doing that already? Or what, do you think he’s going to come back after your lady love?”

“She’s not my--”

“He’s not stupid, Rafael,” You spat.

“He obviously knows I know who, or--what, he is now. He knows that if he starts going on ‘business trips’, that I’ll know. He’s holding himself accountable now. Now you tell me, why would he do that if he didn’t love me? If he didn’t love our family?”

“..I….” Rafael tried to rack his brain for some sort of logical reason, any logical reason.

“Because he still wants to get to me,” Olivia added like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh shut up, you twat,” You flipped her the bird.

“I said he’s not stupid. He’s not going to come after you, risk going back to prison. Or y’know, risk getting murdered by you,”

“I am not a murderer!” She stomped her foot.

“No, you’re just a sadistic, manipulative, evil wench,” You barked.

“You think Billy just wants me for himself, Rafael?” You half laughed while now addressing him. “What the fuck do you think she wants with you?”

"That's not--" Rafael tried to defend Liv again, but you weren't done.

“You say that I’m the one in danger, I’m the one who’s the with the psychopath, but look in the mirror,” You stared daggers into her.

“Maybe we’re just both attracted to monsters,” You bit the side of your cheek. “Maybe that’s our fatal flaw. Maybe we were never supposed to be together,”

“No,” Rafael shook his head and grabbed your hands before you could pull away. “No that is not true, don’t you ever say that,”

“Why not?!” You cried.

“Because I love you, Y/N,” He started to cry himself. “I know--- I know it looks bad, and I’m-- I’m sorry that we’re on opposite ends of this, but--” He paused, trying to compose himself.

“I may be upset with you, but that doesn’t mean that I stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you, you have to believe me,”

“Yeah well,” You broke free from his grasp, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh, sobs dripping in your words.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Rafael. I don’t believe you,” You walked backwards towards the door.

“We’re done,” You turned on your heels and bolted out the door before you could break down sobbing in front of them. You wouldn’t give Olivia the satisfaction.

----------

“...You realize we’re going to have to go after her now, right Rafa?”

“Just--” Rafael put his hands over his face. “Just give me a fucking minute, Olivia,”

“But she--” Olivia’s words were cut off by Rafael’s phone going off.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

“No…” Rafael’s eyes widened. “No there is no way he could--”

“Answer it!” Olivia cried. Rafael put it on speaker.

“....Hello?”

“Damn Barba, you make this way too easy, it’s almost not fun anymore,”

“Lewis,”

“See, here I thought my wife’s little crush on you would deter her from believing me, but you just sent her running back into my arms,”

“You--”

“Actually I guess I should be thanking the good detective there, eh Olivia?”

“You son of a--”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me here, fire crotch,” He chuckled. “You should be thanking me,”

“And why’s that?” She asked warily.

“I just gave you what you’ve always wanted,” They could hear the evil smirk in his voice.

“...Excuse me?”

“Your little papi there?”

“How can you see--?” Both Olivia's and Rafael's eyes darted around his office, focusing on the huge window behind his desk.

“I have my ways, Livvie,” He chuckled darkly. “You know that,”

“Can we back up here?” Rafael chimed in. “What the fuck are you talking about, Lewis?”

“Rafael, he’s just--” Olivia tried to dismiss it.

“Ohhhh, he doesn’t know, does he Olivia?” Lewis asked in an amused tone.

“....Know what?” Rafael raised an eyebrow at Olivia.

“Well,” He chuckled even more sinisterly. “Let’s just say counselor, when I ‘allegedly’ tortured your little lady there,”

“Don’t,” Olivia warned.

“....It wasn’t some relative she was crying out for,” His words dripped with evil amusement as he revealed Olivia's dark secrets.

“...What?” Rafael now looked at Olivia with shock and awe. How had he never seen this?

“Rafael, he’s just saying things to get to you,” Olivia tried brushing him off, but the guilty look on her face was giving her away.

“Oh really? Am I? Tell me you’re not elated that I’ve just cleared the way for you right now, detective. Say that with a straight face while you look into papi’s eyes,”

“You’re sick,” Olivia sneered.

“That wasn’t a denial, Oliva,” Lewis pointed out.

“Oliva, come on--” Rafael said in frustration. How could this be spinning into such a soap opera shit show?

“So maybe you should listen to my wife, counselor,” His evil voice taunted them.

“Maybe you both need to be with your monsters, let nature take its course,” He licked his lips on the other end, eating up the pain he was causing.

“Because if you don’t, I promise you won’t like the results,”

“Lewis I swear to God--” Rafael growled.

“ Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe the missus is on her way home to me right now. And I wanna give her a hell of a welcome home,” He chuckled one more time before the line went dead.

“Son of a--” Rafael threw his phone across the room angrily.

“Rafa,” Olivia said softly, nervous about the conversation they just had.

“Liv,” He put a hand up. “You need to leave,”

“What did I do?!” She put her hands on her hips.

“Nothing, I--” He sighed. “I just can’t look at you right now,”

“...Fine,” Olivia nodded, not wanting to push the issue right now.

She quietly walked out of the office, leaving Rafael alone. As soon as she was gone, he ran over to his desk and sat in his chair, breaking down into sobs.

What the hell was he going to do now?

#rafael barba angst #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x sonny carisi #william lewis #william lewis x you #william lewis x reader #william lewis angst #rafael barba imagine #so i married a monster #olivia benson #elliot stabler #law and order svu fanfiction #william lewis imagine #william lewis fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

stygianflood · 3 years

Text

Pua Melia (Ethan x F!MC)

Summary: When Ethan reveals his feelings, Aparna’s response is far from what he expects. Continuation of the diamond scene in 3.11. Words, rating, genre- 1.2k, general, fluff with the tiniest dollop of angst. Tropes- And they were in love.

A/N: I hope everyone is well. Supposed to be on hiatus, but that’s a lie. This came to me as I awaited (and still do) the covid test results for the family. I hope it’s nothing. A/N 2: gandharaj: Bengali for gardenia (just discovered all the similarities between Indian and Hawaiian flora); pua melia: Hawaiian for plumeria (garlands of it or just the flowers are presented to tourists)

Aparna pours herself a glass of water and sips the sight before her.

Shards of a midwinter moon drizzle across the vast expanse of water underneath. Impeded ever so slightly by the bay windows, they spill over the rugged expanse of Ethan’s chest. The ripple of his arm. One glorious thigh.

He’s beautiful. And strong, she thinks with a flutter in her core. And so calm he could almost be asleep. Almost oblivious of the chaos he courted only last week.

Almost. But then he stirs, a wandering hand searching the space beside him.

She leaves the empty glass on the counter before joining him. Looping his arm around herself, she lays her head on his chest. His other hand finds the duvet.

It’s quiet. Too quiet, but for the gentle whooshing of waves lapping at the shores. And the breeze. Sweet and brimming with the occasional gardenia. Or gandharaj as grandma called it back in India in what seemed a whole other decade.

Aparna isn’t sure if it’s middle school geography or sixteenth century anecdotes from a Ferdinand Magellan. (Or just champagne). But there’s a certain tranquility about the Pacific. Daunting in its vastness of course. But here in her sea view suite, the thrum of Ethan’s heart pressed to her ears, she settles for just tranquil.

It is certainly calmer than the Atlantic from two winters ago. Either that, or everything Ethan had claimed and renounced that evening in Miami had muddled her senses. In her mind, Miami is exquisite. Ethereal almost. Even life altering. But almost too surreal to be true.

And yet two years later he is engraving circles on the expanse of her arm, her bare shoulder, her back. At a friend’s wedding, too. Snipping away, little by little, at the millenary drill of his life before her.

As for the rest, Ethan never says. Never in so many words. And she never asks.

But it’s enough.

She half wishes they could linger. Hold on to her little fistful of warm sand. There’s more to Hawaii than the whiff of gardenia. Or rows of coconut palms. Or the plumeria blossom Ines tucked behind Aparna’s left ear.

There’s all of that, and Ethan Ramsey tossing his head with full throated laughter. Or mumbling sweet nothings into her hair as sleep overtakes her.

And it’s enough.

Until-

-Apu...

Somewhere above her, he sounds awake as she strains to open her eyes.

She has an arm around his middle. It’s warm. The bed. Or is it him. So warm. Her breathing softens against his chest.

-I've never felt this way about anyone.

Seconds trickle. It’s the sweetness of macadamia and their own scents. It hangs about them in a glorious mist.

He really is talking.

-And I don’t know, he says. I don't know if I ever will again.

Her eyes snap open.

There’s no meteor shower in the skies, or the sudden gust of wind in her hair. This is it. Ethan Ramsey is leaping with her. And all she feels is peace. An overwhelming sort of it. The sort that lulls you into sweet, sweet sleep.

Does he tense under her?

For a second, and then he chuckles, the deep rumble tugging at something inside her.

-And as always, he surmises, my timing is perfect.

She can talk now. She must.

And so she doesn’t.

-But... it’s probably for the best, he concludes. Kisses her goodnight.

She smiles and holds on to her little fistful of warm sand.

***

The boarding queue is at the gates when she stumbles in, looking around wildly.

Five more seconds and I would've boarded already.

Her smile is radiant as her eyes find him and she tells him he’s all talk.

Cheeky little minx.

And in a blur of time and shapes, she asks for his help. A case of misdiagnosis. They’d most definitely miss the flight.

He asks no more as he follows her out of the airport.

Not again, he groans, suddenly awake as sunlight assails him from what he assumes is a window shade she left open on their flight.

His attempt to rise is thwarted, his arm stuck under a sleepy tumble of dark hair. And it’s the bay window in her suite, the one he had pressed her up against last night.

Her breath hitches for a moment and her fingers quiver for the slightest spell of a dream. Slowly, slower than the fall of her breath, he draws it and presses soft, lingering kisses on her knuckles. The softest of sighs escapes her and she releases his arm to curl up to him.

All at once he’s reminded of last night. And he feels… not regret. None of that. Sheepish perhaps.

-Morning, she grumbles from under half open eyes.

-Coffee? He kisses her hair, a little glad her eyes are closed.

He didn’t botch it. She’d fallen asleep.

-’time is it?

-Little after six.

She snorts. As though she isn’t the one that forgot to draw the blinds. But again, he barely manages to rise.

-Stay.

She did fall asleep, right?

Ethan reclines against the headboard and picks up his copy of Sea People: The Puzzle of Polynesia. The one he didn’t make much progress with, thanks to her. And thanks to her, he doesn’t make much progress even now.

And what if she were awake all along. She wouldn’t do that to him, would she.

He exhales long and hard.

Perhaps it was too little too late. Inadequate even.

Beside him, she laces her hand with his own larger one. Traces the veins with her fingers.

He’d be there if time is all she needs.

He cups her face in his hand as she looks up. Twists a stray lock around his finger.

Hell, he’d always be there for her.

She props herself on her elbows and plants moist, open mouthed kisses on his palm.

-I feel the same way about you, Ethan.

He gulps, suddenly delirious. Then she kisses the length of his arm. Presses her mouth against his chest. His collarbone. And it’s maddening.

He needs to ask her now. Stop her first.

And he shudders as she bites and sucks the column of his neck. Despite himself, he presses one rough palm against the expanse of her back. Draws her closer.

She takes his bottom lip between her teeth with an unfamiliar zeal, and he finds his voice at last.

-Why now? He asks bewildered. It’s been what, five hours?

Incredulity etches her face. She might have withdrawn if not for the persuasive hand on her back.

-Gee, I don’t know Ethan, she says. Took you two years. Your five hours really put that into perspective.

It’s his turn to be dumbfounded as the faintest of smiles adorns her face.

It’s his turn to trace her lips with his own, grateful that she doesn’t withdraw. She kisses him softly this time. Tender and unhurried. And he winds a languid hand in her hair just as a soft whimper escapes her.

-Are you all right?

This is raw. Unfamiliar.

-Better than all right, she murmurs. She nestles under his chin, averting her eyes.

-I’m glad. Forgive me, I’m not the best at putting feelings into-

-Shh. Don’t, she pleads, eyes glimmering with the thousand little hopes of his own. Just stay.

And he does. Cradling her in his arms, his chin on her head, as the first honeycreeper of the day warbles its song to the ocean.

Forgotten, Ethan’s book had slid out of his hand and opened with a soft thud on the wooden floor. A single plumeria blossom pressed between its pages flutters to land beside it.

This is unfamiliar. But not unsettling. Not anymore.

This is happiness too. Untrammelled and wild.

Thank you for reading this. Love you all. Google says, a plumeria blossom over your left ear means you are taken and over your right ear means you are available ❤

Tagging separately. Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

#open heart #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #ines delarosa #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #choicesmaychallenge2021

100 notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

perfectly wrong | thirteen

summary: there were rules that had to be followed: no one could know about you two, there was no ‘getting to know each other,’ and there was absolutely no emotional attachment allowed. if this could be done, there should be no complications. but somehow, the rules always get bended.

pairing: reader x fuckboy!kth

genre: college au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2.3k

chapter warnings: cussing, soft tae

notes: down to 2 chapters left! i will most likely do some drabbles every now and then for this, but not right away because i’ll be working on my new fic: acquainted. will let you know when this goes live, but pls check it out. it’s gonna be messy and filthy as hell, im sorry lmao

tags: @soulstaes @apollukee @imluckybitches @btsis7okay @ppangiiroo @gee-nee @enchantaeduniverse @miinoongi @thedarkwinterrose @levrantae @somewhereofftheglobe @jwlmnbt @symmetricaleyeliner @bluesharksandfish (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

> series masterlist <

Taehyung slouched on his couch, tv on whatever the hell channel it was on. He scrolled through his phone aimlessly, but it wasn't long before he huffed and threw his phone aside. He wasn't feeling himself, or anything for that matter, and was tired of being in this funk. He felt terrible about how everything went down and he couldn't really forgive himself for the shit he said to you. He didn't mean the things he said, but he was also the one who didn't know how to properly process feelings. He always acted on impulse and how he felt at that moment, rather than thinking about the situation rationally. Plus yeah, he had a temper. Shit didn't mix.

"Ayo." He hears Jimin's voice at the door, followed by three soft knocks.

"It's unlocked." Tae says. Jimin welcomes himself in and kicks his shoes aside. He smiles at him, holding something in his hands as he walks into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Uh, found these at your door." He holds up the prints Tae bought from you. He sighs and shakes his head, almost dismissing it entirely.

"Keep it."

"Um, no? You bought these for a reason, so you should keep them."

"Not anymore." Taehyung lays his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes.

"You're so dramatic. I'm leaving these here."

"Whatever."

"What's wrong with you now, princess?"

"I'm just not in the mood."

"You haven't been in the mood.." Jimin sits on the other end of the couch. "And quite frankly, it's pretty annoying. You know what you did wrong, so why don't you just fix it?"

"It's not that easy."

"Says who? You?" Jimin scoffs. "Look, I know our track record isn't the best, but I know you genuinely care about Y/N. I know she means more to you than what you put out there, so why can't you just take it for what it is? Why do you have to make it so complicated?"

"Because I'm sure by now she hates me and wants nothing to do with me. It's exactly one of the things I'm afraid about the most. What if she gives up or realizes she doesn't want me the way I want her?"

"Do you think she's worth it?"

"I just-"

"Yes or no?" Taehyung looks at him as he leans over onto his knees.

"Yes, I do."

"Then none of that shit should matter. I'm positive she cares about you just as much as you do for her. If she's worth it, then you'd be willing to go through these ups and downs with her and do this ride with her."

"She's not going to want this after what I did, Jimin."

"You're full of excuses." Jimin shakes his head. "Then you do what you can to fix this and show her how you'll change, rather than just saying you'll do this and that."

"I don't know." Is all Taehyung can say. "I was pretty hurtful."

"You're also human. It's okay to make mistakes, but you should really work on processing your feelings better and communicating. Plus, your temper, dude. Tone that shit down."

"It's been so long since I've done this." Believe it or not, Taehyung was the complete opposite before. His last, serious relationship a couple of years ago made him flip the switch. He gave his ex everything, and was always willing to put his life down for her. He gave and gave, even if he felt like he couldn't anymore. He did all this just to get fucked over in the end, which is why he ultimately didn't believe relationships were worth the energy anymore.

"Y/N is not your ex. Stop comparing it to that. No experience will be the exact same."

"Ughhhh, I fucked this all up." Tae groaned, tilting his head back and covering it with his hat.

"I'm just saying, you could still try and fix this. Even in the end you two don't get together or whatever, you can at least say you tried. I'm tired of you moping around like you can't do shit to make it better. You know what she means to you."

"I'm not moping."

"Yes, you are! Look at you, looking like a sorry ass." Jimin threw his crumpled napkin at him. "Don't pass up on a good girl like that."

"Okay, I get it."

"No, I don't think you do." Tae looked at him. "Look, if this was any other girl, I probably wouldn't care much. But Y/N is genuinely different and I see how you both look at each other. It's really obvious how much you two ended up caring for each other."

"She is different. God, she's.." Tae sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. "She's beautiful and sweet, with just the right amount of mean. She's creative and her voice has always been so soothing. I want her around me all the time, even when she gets frustrating as hell." Jimin smiles.

"If you pass on her, she's mine." Jimin teased, knowing it would rub Taehyung the wrong way.

"Fuck you." Taehyung spat. "I should still beat your ass for the shit you pulled at the club."

"It was harmless." Jimin laughed. "So are you fixing this or what?"

"If I fix this, you need to stay 10 ft away from her." Jimin laughed out loud and held his stomach.

"Cry baby. I'm not gonna do anything." Jimin came and patted him on the back. "I'm sure everything will be just fine." And so, Taehyung gets himself up to go and fix this. He knew it wasn't going to be easy but he needed to right his wrongs.

Taehyung sat in his car and gathered himself together before he made his way up to the apartment. He gave off three knocks before he waited patiently for the door to swing open.

"I have to be honest, it's taking everything in me to stop myself from fucking you up right now." Jungkook sighed and stepped aside to let him in.

"That's fair."

"So, what's up? Why did you need to come here to talk to me?"

"I just wanted to apologize for how things went down at Jin's party."

"I appreciate it, but it still doesn't change the fact that you disrespected Y/N and talked down on her the way you did."

"I know, and I didn't mean any of it. I just wasn't thinking. If I'm being completely honest, I was pretty jealous of your relationship with her."

"What is this, high school?" Jungkook stopped himself from taking it any further because he could say a lot more to his face, but he wasn't going to since Taehyung made the effort to come here and apologize in person.

"Okay, I get it, it's childish."

"At least you're aware." Jungkook paused before shaking his head. "Look, not that it should even matter or anything, but all I knew growing up was Y/N and Jin hyung and vice versa. I didn't have any siblings or any cousins that could relate to me. I moved a lot before I finally settled with my family. I didn't get along with people easily, which is why when I met Y/N, we got really close and I stuck by her. We were similar, but different. It's always been that way, and quite frankly, it's not going to change." Taehyung nodded. "She doesn't have her family by her side, so me, hyung, Yoongi and Hoseok became that for her."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just kept thinking you two had it for each other like that and I couldn't understand why it was making me so upset."

"I love Y/N, I really do. But at the end of the day, she's her own person and she decides how to live her life. It's her life and I'm only in it." Jungkook shrugs. "I want nothing more than for Y/N to be happy with someone who can give her the world and cherish her for who she is. She has so much to offer and she brings life to everything around her."

"I-" Taehyung paused. "I really care about her. And I know this probably sounds stupid coming from me, but I want to do things differently with her."

"I just have to ask - are you even sure of your own feelings? You're not doing all of this cause you're lonely and have no one else to go to?"

"No, of course I'm sure of my feelings." Jungkook shrugged.

"You've been messing around with so many girls for some time now, though."

"Yeah and I also stopped doing that for awhile now."

"It's just hard to believe because I'd hate for her to have to go through it if you go back to your old ways."

"I won't."

"But that's easy for you to say, isn't it?" Kook shot him a look. All of a sudden, this conversation felt more like an interview but Jungkook had to do what he had to do. He knew what Taehyung was capable of, and he would hate for you to go through it again.

"Yeah it is, but she makes me want to be a better man." Jungkook sighed. He saw the look in Taehyung's face and he couldn't completely say it was all bullshit. He had never seen this kind of soft expression come from someone like Taehyung. "I haven't felt this way in a really long time, and it's scary for me. But she's worth it."

"I get that." Jungkook nods. "She cares about you a lot, you know? She may not say it but I saw how beat up she was over this entire thing."

"I want to fix this."

"I have to be honest, I'm a little wary. You really have to keep your word about doing better and not slipping up. She doesn't deserve it." Taehyung nods.

"I hear you." Taehyung pauses. "How is she?" Jungkook shrugs.

"Fine, except for the fact that she's sick right now." Taehyung's eyes widen.

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah. If you haven't figured it out already, Y/N isn't the type to back down." Taehyung chuckled.

"Yeah, I got that much."

"Hey," Jungkook tilted his head to look at him once more. "I really do respect the fact that you came here to talk to me in person. I know we don't know much about each other, but I know Y/N can see good in you." Taehyung nodded silently.

"Only trying to right my wrongs here. I don't want to slip up and lose her already."

"So, have you talked to hyung yet?" Taehyung looked at him and shook his head.

"No, but that's where I was headed after this." Kook nods silently. The two talk for a bit more, making sure they were on the right page, enough to put the past behind them and move on from the petty, unnecessary drama that had went down. When Taehyung had felt satisfied tackling one of the biggest hurdles, he made his way over to the cafe to tackle the last one. Not gonna lie, Taehyung was scared for this encounter because he knew Jin would lay his life down for you. Luckily for him, Jin was a wise man and never held grudges. Of course he didn't appreciate how Taehyung handled himself and this whole thing, but it wasn't entirely his fault and Jin always thought holding onto negativity was a waste of energy.

Jin happily greeted him, like his usual self, and brought him to the back so they could talk. Taehyung was sweating bullets, but he knew if he wanted to be in your life, he'd have to make it right with Jin. For Aiko, for the things he said and the things he's done to hurt you, everything. And so he sympathetically apologizes as he sits in front of Jin. Apologizes for the way things went down at the party, for Aiko, for having hurt anyone in this situation. Jin gave off a small, toothless smile and told Taehyung how he appreciated him for coming by. Quite frankly, he wanted to kill him as soon as you had told him about everything that had gone done between the both of you, including finding out about Aiko. Although the whole thing with Aiko was unfortunate, he couldn't really be mad because she was never his to begin with. The only thing he was really worried about was you, his baby cousin. Baby sister. Taehyung confessed that he had been feeling pretty lost because he believed you wouldn't want anything to do with him after that night. Jin reassures him and does a damn good job of it, telling him that you would never completely shut someone out, especially if you cared about them. Jin could tell how much you ended up caring for the guy and he wasn't going to make you change your mind about it because you were grown, and you could make your own decisions. He would only be there to support you and reassure you if times got tough. He didn't know Taehyung enough to immediately label him as a bad guy and right now, he was only showing he had some good in him.

They continued to talk for a bit [while Jin still had the time, at least], with Jin trying his best to coach him about how to best proceed with this situation. Of course, it was entirely up to Taehyung how he wanted to do this, but Jin could afford to sprinkle in a little bit of help.

"You're really sure about this, right? I don't want her to get hurt again. Y/N deserves all the best, and if a man were to ever come into her life, I'd want him to take good care of her and spoil her without her having to ask for it. I'd want him to be sure of her and to never make her question her worth." Taehyung nodded.

"I hear you, and I'm sure. It's scary, but I want to do this with her."

#bts #bts fanfiction #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung x reader #kth x reader #kth series #kim taehyung series #writing #perfectly wrong

286 notes · View notes

blackhakumen · 3 years

Text

Mini Fanfic #790: Kind of Went Too Far. (RWBY)

12:45 p.m. at the Sidewalks of Mistral.......

Sun: (Starts Panting by a Nearby Pole Alongside with Oscar) Hey....('Pants') Oscar....('Pants') Do you think....('Pants') anyone noticed.....('Pants') that we're long ('Pants').....gone ('Pants')....already? (Starts Wiping the Sweat Off his Forehead)

Oscar: Maybe?....('Pants') Sort of?.... ('Pants') I really don't know at this point to be honest....(Starts Wiping the Sweat Off his Forehead as Well) Let's just hope none of them followed us all the way here....

Sun: Yeah......

?????: ('Ahem')

The duo turns and see Whitley standing behind them while crossing his arms.

Whitley: Do I even wanna know you two are up to right now?

Sun: Oh. (Smiles Brightly at the Youngest Schnee) Hey, Whitley. Oscar and I were just running away from an inevitable doom back at the house.

Whitley: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Pardon?

Oscar: ('Sigh') We were trying runaway from Yang and possibly even Ruby's wrath after Emerald made a comeback on their mom, Summer.

Sun: Who's not here with us in the land of the living..... Doesn't help the fact that Neptune laughed throughout the whole thing. So....here we are.

Whitley: I see.....Well, I can't say I blame those two for being crossed with her. Throwing insults on the dead does seem pretty distasteful if you ask me.

Oscar: ('Sigh') Tell me about it......But anyways, what are you doing out here, Whitley? Taking a scroll around town?

Whitley: Not necessary. (Points at a Building in Front of Him) I was simply going to the café on the other side of the road. (Smiles a Little) I heard their coffee was almost to die for.

Sun: (Smiles Brightly at the Café) Ah dude! You're going to the Mistral Café? Their coffee, expressos and frappuccinos are the best in the town!

Oscar: (Smiles Softly) I have been wanting to go there for a while now...

Whitley: (Sighs While Putting on a Deadpinned Look on his Face) I take it you two simpletons want to tag along, don't you?

Sun: Uh. Correction. Oscar and I are Huntsmen. (Went Back to Smiling) And hell yeah we wanna tag along!

Oscar: (Smiles a Bit Sheepishly) If you don't mind any company that is....

Whitley: ('Sighs a Bit in Defeat') I suppose I don't mind.....But you two are paying for your own drinks.

Oscar: (Simply Shrugs) Fine by us.

Sun: Yup.

Few Minutes Later Outside of the Mistral Café.......

Oscar: (Smiles Brightly at a Cup of Coffee He Just Drank on his Side of the Table) You were right, Sun. This has to be the best coffee I've ever tasted.

Sun: Right? (Smiles Relaxingly While on the Other Side of the Table) Told ya this place has the best coffee in town.

Whitley: (Nodded in Agreement While Sitting on the Middle of Table, Enjoying his Cup of Expresso) I agree. This Expresso is magnificent in it's own right. It might rival that to Klein's coffee.

Sun: Uhhhh....Who exactly is-

Oscar: (Turns to Sun) He's the Schnee Family's Butler, Sun. Or at least I....think he still is?

Whitley: He isn't really our Butler anymore. But he does seem to spend a lot more time with mother as of late.

Oscar: Oh, really? Cool. (Turns to Whitley) How's Mrs. Schnee been doing lately if you don't mind me asking.

Whitley: She's doing fairly well for the most part. Still adjusting to the outside world and whatnot. (Smiles a Little) We started to spending a lot more time together than before actually. Speaking of which, she wanted to if you and the others would like to accompany us on a trip one of these days.

Oscar: (Smiles Softly) I have ask everyone else about it first, but other than that, it's sound like a plan alr-

Emerald: (Came Out of Nowhere Slams the Table While Glaring at Oscar With a Black Eye, Causing the Boy Get Startled) ('SLAM') Oscar, you traitorous little shit!

Neptune: (Frowns Over Dramatically at Sun While Having a Black Eye of his Own) What the heck, man!? You guys seriously left in there alone!?

Oscar: Oh! Uh....(Chuckles Awkwardly at the Two Black Eyes Friends) H-Heyyy, Emerald..... Neptune....I uhh...Take it that....Yang has..... already pulverized the both of you.... didn't she?

Emerald: Yeah. She did. The girl literally tackled us from the other side of the room and gave us both black eyes. I couldn't even reacted to all of that in time!

Neptune: It took us five and half minutes to escape the house. And once we noticed that you guys were missing in there, decided to look for the both of you.

Emerald: And now we found out that you two have been here enjoying your little coffees this entire time while we suffered! The hell was that all about!?

Neptune: (Already in Comical Tears) I thought we were all bros man!

Oscar: ('Sigh') Look, guys, we didn't mean to abandon you two like that or anything.

Sun: Yeah. We were just scared of get wrapped up into Yang's fury. Sooooo....we bailed. And besides, in all honestly, you guys kinda had that one coming.

Emerald/Neptune: WHAT!?

Oscar: I'm sorry, but I'm with Sun on this one. (Turns to Emerald) Emerald, you flatted out insulted Ruby and Yang's mom in front them and everybody else in the room.

Sun: (Points at Neptune) And you laughed through all of that.

Oscar: Like seriously, Emerald, who would intentionally ask someone what shoes their parents was wearing while they're in a casket!?

Sun: Your laugh sounds like a literally hyena, dude. I'm sorry.

Oscar: And then you went and insult their grandma by saying she doesn't have any knees to pray to Ozpin or do some kind of....Double-Dutch or whatever!

Sun: Like, I've never once, in my entire life, ever heard you laugh like that. Hell, I can even ask Sage and Scarlet about this right now and I can guarantee you that they say the same.

Emerald: Okay, so maybe I did went a little too far on the mom and grandma comeback, but she started the whole thing first with the stupid shoes insult! How else was I supposed to get her back after that!?

Oscar: Make fun of her cape and Crescent Rose instead! I dunno! But what I DO know is that you NEVER disrespect anyone's dead relative! Even if you do wanna use it for a comeback!

Neptune: I didn't mean to laugh out loud like that. I had no idea those Burns would be THAT funny!

Sun: Look, man, I'm all for hearing a well deserved Burns as much as the next guy, but even I know I shouldn't laugh to one that involves something personal.

Oscar: You're already like a sister to me, Emerald, and I know you been through a lot before I met you, but if you really wanna makes amends with Ruby and the others, you can't be doing stuff like this.

Emerald: ('Sighs in Defeat') Yeah..... You're right.....(Turns to Oscar With a bit if a Regretful Look on her Face) I'm sorry, Oscar.....

Oscar: ('Sigh') It's fine, Emerald. I was never mad at you to begin with. But you know I'm not the one who you should be apologizing to, right?

Emerald: (Sighs While Giving Oscar a Simple Nod in Agreement) Yeah....

Sun: (Starts Ruffling the Top of Neptune's Hair) That goes for you too, bro. You need to apologize to Ruby and Yang for laughing like a hyena.

Neptune: ('Sighs in Defeat') I know...... (Glares at Sun) AND I'M NOT HYENA!!!

Emerald: (Gives Neptune a Deadpinned Look on her Face) You so did sound like one.

Neptune: (Immediately Turns to Emerald) WHO'S SIDE ARE YOU ON RIGHT NOW!?

Whitley: Once a hyena, always a hyena I suppose....(Continues Drinking his Expresso)

Neptune: (Turns to Whitley) YOU WANNA FREAKING GO, TWERP!!!?

Oscar chuckles lightly at the whole scene before he felt two hands covering his both his eyes.

????: (Giggles Softly) Guuuuess who!~

Oscar: Oh gee, I dunno~ (Starts Smirking Playfully) Is that you, Ozpin?

????: (Starts Snickering) Yeah, right! Like Oz could ever pull off a cute voice like yours truly.

The person remove two hands from Oscar's eyes, revealing herself to be none other than Ruby Rose while smiling brightly.

Oscar: (Smiles Softly at the Girl) Hey there, stranger. What are you doing out here?

Ruby: (Pouts at Oscar While Hugging Him) Looking for you, dumb-dumb!~ You and Sun had everyone back home worried.

Oscar: Even Nora?

Ruby: Especially Nora. She's already forming a search party for you as we speak.

Oscar: ('Sigh') Oh no....(Gets Himself Up From his Seat) Guess we have get back home then. (Turns to Sun) You're coming with us, Sun?

Sun: (Smiles Relaxingly at the Duo) Nah man. You two kiddos can go on without me. If they ask where I'm at, tell 'em I'm having coffee.

Oscar/Ruby: 'Kay!

Emerald: (Immediately Turns to Ruby) W-Wait! Ruby, about what happened earlier, I-

Ruby: (Immediately Held her Hand Up at Emerald While Giving her a Dark Glare) Not now.

Emerald: (Eyes Widened at the Sudden Glare Before Sighing in Defeat While Looking Down on the Ground in Regret) Right........

Ruby: (Turns Back to Oscar With a Soft Smile While Gently Grabbing his Hand) Let's go, Oscar.

Oscar: Oh! O-Okay. (Waves Goodbye at Everyone While Walking Back Hime With Ruby) See you guys later!

Sun: Later, guys!

Neptune: Bye!!

Sun: (Turns to Emerald) You doing okay, Emerald?

Emerald: (Sighs Once More While Slowly Slouching Down on Oscar's Former Seat) Yeah.... I'm just..... Feeling like I'm back to square one in all of this....

Whitley: It could've worse really.....Yang could've suplexed you and Neptune in front of everyone to see.

Emerald/Sun/Neptune: (Gives Whitley Confused Looks on Each of their Faces) ....................

Whitley: My mother suplexed a man for insulting Weiss during that time we all thought her and the others were dead. (Continues Sipping on his Expresso)

@keyenuta

@ma-lemons

@maripr

@hyperfixation-hideout

@albion-93

@roz-ani

@miki-13

#rwby #oscar pine #sun wukong #whitley schnee #emerald sustrai #neptune vasilias #ruby rose #klein (mentioned)#willow (mentioned)#yang (mentioned)#summer rose (mentioned)#humor #rosegarden #fluff #potential klein x willow maybe #edited

29 notes · View notes

kiltkawa · 3 years

Text

I'll wait for you // Sanemi Shinazugawa [Part 1]

tags: fluff, angst, oneshot, injury recovery + implied flower imagery.

Winter

You meet Sanemi Shinazugawa on a cold winter day on the outskirts of your village.

The river is lazy as it winds along the banks, dipping and rising as the surface glistens like the stars on a clear night sky. Beneath your moon-bruised skin was your burden stitched into flesh, a girl born for tragedy. At your birth, the village head declared your sky-eyed soft soul to be brimming with heavenly decorum. You are a magnified centrepiece for destruction, etherealism glossed over in such elegant orbs and listening to the song of crows in nature.

You wander past the tall grass sprinkled with powdery snow, eyes scanning the field, a palette of green that seems to have greyed from the wash of winter. Your steps echo in the damp air and across the barren land, snowflakes in your ribs and sugar pollen on your eyelashes. The familiar touch of the sun no longer graces your skin.

No one comes around to check on the fields anymore, not ever since the blaze of winter arrived and snow rolled over the land.

You close off to the end where the final flowers are, a thinly-woven basket resting on your hip. You take in a deep inhale, the faded scent of lemongrass amongst cold air filling your nose as your gilded rib cage rattles. Tension curls up at the pit of your bones, aching muscles etching their forlorn feelings deeper into your soul.

You don’t get why people don’t come here to help out anymore.

Sure, people have their own ways of coping with the harshest winter the village has ever seen. You’ve caught glimpses of mothers leaving their infants out in the snow, white cushioning bluish skin amongst agonised infantile colic cries. You pretend not to notice the screaming outside on nights of gleaming crescent moons and thunderstorms, rumours of the supernatural clawing at people’s minds. You watch the children of the village run about through the very fields you try so hard to maintain, giggling away amidst warm yet damp winds. Their bodies are wrapped up in thick and woolly clothes, hugging the skin tightly.

Everyone has their own way of surviving this winter.

At first, you didn’t have one, not that it matters now that it seems spring might peek it’s head around the corner sometime soon. For the past two months after winter hit, you’ve been holding yourself in the florist shop, performing the same routine, day in and day out. It wasn’t until you had mesmerised the exact number and different types of each flower growing preciously in your care for the umpteenth time that you decided it was sickening.

So, you put on your mother’s handmade shawl, bracing for the cold winter winds, and ventured out into the decaying world.

The fields were a frost-laced eiderdown yet green shoots already arose from the earth. It was the sort of cold winter that would freeze the blood of those who didn't take sufficient care to be warm in heart and core.

And then, water starts to spiral from the sky. You are always the first to feel the rain. A cursed disguised as a blessing, mysteries shrouded in swells of tears as raindrops cascade down from the sky. It's a light sort of rain, not drowsy or meandering, just simple and serene. It's the kind of rain that flecks your cheeks as you lift your chin and close your eyes, so soft that it tickles.

Eyes lost in the midst of a fervour, you feel dazed and breathless when the rain dwindles, having been caught up in a young storm of childhood trauma; you bleed moonlight between the voids as the days go on.

You finally arrive at the last row at the back of the fields towards the feet of the mountains. Closed off and secluded from the other patches and flower fields - this one was just a long and narrow sequence of flowers tufted into the dirt.

You stare at the flowers; they were lined up in such a thin manner you would have to wiggle like a worm to carefully reach them all.

You hold in the urge to scoff, standing there slightly irritated - mostly disappointed - as a heavy exhale escapes his lips, a thin ghostly fog much like the smoke arising from a fire. You put down the basket, looking back at the few flowers you managed to salvage today and you start crawling towards the tightly-wound buds prodding from hardened dirt.

“What are you doing?”

You snap your head so fast you get whiplash. The sudden, cold and dismissive voice, so close to you in the barren open space, was enough to startle your nerves, sending shivers down your spine as your eyes flash to the source of the voice.

“Calm down,” A young man, you note, a young man with spiky white wearing a green-tinted uniform drawls. He has his muscular hand gripped tightly around the hilt of a long sword resting on his belt. An unbreakable expression forms on his face, “I’m not going to kill you.”

This time, you roll your eyes. You then proceed to pluck the flower you were after, it’s greying stalk polished with silver from the tinge of ice. A knot seems to swarm your insides, a pitless sinking emotion that swallows your stomach up. It might be too late to save this flower but you can always try.

The callous nature of the weather finally reaches a toll on you, blood starting to creep it’s way into your lungs which feel hot and burning as if a sensational fire was burning in the throaty anguish of your chest. You wheeze while feeling your arms start to shake, knowing that your clothes are too thin to survive out here, out this far.

“Who the hell are you?” You ask hoarsely, clutching your chest as you haul your basket back towards the village.

Despite the initial impression of abrasion that you received from him, he scowls and you feel the weight of the full basket being taken off from your shoulders. It was his burden now. “Tch,” The stranger mutters.

You sigh, continuing on your walk back down the way you came from, promptly deciding to flee from the embarrassment. One for ruining the quiet ambience of the field and two for seeing you wriggle on the ground, pulling out flowers on their deathbed like some flower thief.

“I’m a Demon Slayer. There, does that answer your question?”

You stop in your wake, sparring the man behind a raised eyebrow.

The stranger remains distant yet intriguing, “I’m carrying your basket, you know! Are you from Matazo?”

You fully turn to him, suddenly interested. There’s something about him that is bitterly familiar, gnawing at your cranium like when a sakura blossom wilts away and rots.

You reply hesitantly, “Yes. I live there.”

“Your village has a demon,” He says bluntly, continuing to walk ahead, “Maybe even two judging by the reports.”

You gaze back up at him, a silver of a smile almost gracing your lips at how he was carrying your basket for you, “Mm, and you’re sent to kill it?”

“I told you I was a Demon Slayer,” He rolls his eyes, “What did you think that was? A placeholder?”

You press your eyes shut briefly, faint snowflakes dancing as they land on your hair. When you open the lids and feel the breath of fresh air, you playfully respond, “Well, I don’t know much about demons.”

He turns and his figure is silhouetted against the mountains carrying bursts of wisteria. In this early dawn his eyes are the dew scattering the nascent rays, ever illuminating your soul. It’s the kind of purple that comes with lavender in the spring, or when you had trekked up the mountain earlier this week and seen all the colours of the wind and more. The wisteria blossoms look so beautiful in the tepid morning; you just want to burn by looking at them.

“Good,” The corners of his lips twitch slightly, “I don’t know how you don’t know anything about demons though…”

“I want to know.”

You don’t know why you blurted that out. You don’t know why your cheeks flame up in shame when you do say it. You don’t know why you feel the cold, rapid breeze swallow you whole every time this stranger looks at you, eyes violet and bright, almost guarded.

“No you don’t,” He retorts sharply, words cutting through the thick fog in the air. “Come on, just show me to the village. It’s north of here, right?”

You cast your gaze on him, admiring him from afar, old scars riddle warm ivory and thin lines tickle flesh across his skin, likely accrued over his many years of fighting Demons. He definitely seemed like he was around your age, somehow making your heart flutter in trepidation. “It is,” You reply with a thin smile, “You must be a very good Demon Slayer.”

“And you look like a decent… what is it you do? You look like a prostitute.”

“Excuse me?!” You splutter, whacking his arm and then wincing at how muscular and slender his physique was. The worst part was that he strikes you as a difficult man to dissuade when making his mind about something; you were now branded with this initial impression. “I happen to be a very successful florist. I have customers from all over the land.”

“Is that why you’re here in this field?” He purses his lips, gesturing to the icy atmosphere threatening to devour the two of you whole, “You’re salvaging flowers for spring. Don’t they die out in this weather? The winter here is ruthless.”

“And yet your uniform is unbuttoned to expose your (annoyingly pretty) chest and abs but who’s noticing?” You murmur, your sense of humour normally goes undetected but you glimpse something between a weak smile and a restrained expression on the stranger’s face. “You are right though - most of them die. I don’t blame them, I’d die in this weather.”

His interest seems to have slightly piqued, “So why aren’t you dead? You do seem quite weak.”

“Gee, thanks,” You stifle a laugh and smile. It’s bright and spreads across your entire face like a beam of sunshine. It’s a pretty smile, the stranger thinks. “My mother’s quite good with medicine so I make sure I build up a good resolve for when winter hits. There are more deaths in this time which means more funerals which means more flowers and that's where I come in.”

The stranger’s hot-blooded expression seems to have mellowed out in your presence, “So you live like that.” It’s not a question, more like he is taking interest slowly, bit by bit in your life.

“Give me the basket,” You say suddenly, feeling rejuvenated just in his presence, almost like ichor and blood scamper across your diluted veins. The stranger eyes you offhandedly, prompting you to exhale with a small grin, “I’m not gonna die, I promise!”

He carefully gives it to you, as if it was heated glass, fragile and delicate. It surprises you how gentle his touch could be given the cold and abrasive exterior of his personality. You hug it tightly against your chest as if it was an infant, slowly feeling warm inside.

You don’t hold back the cheek splitting grin that spreads across your face.

“I’m [Y/N],” You say, looking up to the stranger, the only person in this lonely field with you. And probably the only person in the village that was taking an interest in who you were.

The white-haired man with lilac eyes and scar-blessed skin looks absent-mindedly back at you.

“Sanemi.”

You see him around a lot now.

Sometimes, it’s by accidents, like when you’re tending to the flowers in the back of your shop and you hear him entering with a heavy and tired sigh.

You’d be arms deep in soil, small hands curled around thin roots and sinking into the muddy earth, and he’d pretend to look disinterested but you can see curiosity tug at his eyes. The way his expression changes ever so slightly when hues of pale lavender glaze over the warm hearth in the corner and the plants growing on the shelves.

He scowls, “You do this every day?”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come here!” You giggle and throw some dirt at him.

Those days are accidents but it makes you feel better by the end.

Spring

Some days, you go out looking for him with intention. You know everyone in the village and it would be no surprise to see Sanemi slinking about empty streets and scaring off a lot of children with his angry attitude.

“It’s demon hunting time!” You say abruptly on a beautiful spring afternoon, linking your arm with his. “I closed the shop for this.”

“There is no way I am allowing you of all people to come with me,” Sanemi thins his lips, stunned at your equally abrasive confidence. He had never met anyone like you. You were you, but you weren’t the same as the shy-eyed girls in long dresses weeping and weaving away behind closed doors. You weren’t a young mother with an infant cooing on your hip, shackled to the mercy of marriage and the control of a man.

You weren’t anyone. Just yourself.

He liked that. He liked that a lot about you.

(Of course, he would rather die than admit it.)

“Come on! I don’t even need to fight. I just wanna watch you slay a demon. You are a Demon Slayer after all… or is it really a placeholder?” You tease him with that iconic smile of his.

Needless to say, Sanemi would have a slightly crazed look whenever sees you scurrying behind him on his travels and you would descend into a hysterical fit of laughter and beg him to see the look on his face in a mirror.

Some days, you don’t meet at all.

There are days where you wait at the counter to the florist shops, watching people come in and out, buying yellow lilies and white chrysanthemums for their hanawas following the dead winter. And he doesn’t turn up. He’s still searching for that demon and you don’t blame him, your friend went missing the other day and you suspect that supernatural creature was behind it.

And on one of those days, you’re sitting on the floor at your family home, listening to your parents’ beratement on how no one has asked for your hand in marriage yet, when the world crumbles.

“Where is she?!” Sanemi roars and walks in, dragging you out, “You wanted a demon, you’re going to get one. I found it.”

Naturally, you follow him, because what else were you going to do? Sit by and wait idly like every other girl in the village or would you truly leap at the chance for adventure?

But… looking back, you hate that day.

You hate it, you hate it, you hate it.

You have never seen a demon before, only heard some vile rumours elicited from frightened tongues of teenager terror, twisted images perforating your nightmares and controlling your fear like the puppeteer to it’s puppet.

The demon itself has its fangs halfway into the arm of a flopping corpse, once alive but dwindled in it’s lifeline, soul no longer tethered to this earth. The crimson bleeds so profusely and so proudly, running down skin like fresh paint. Your chest constricts as if vines tangle your rib cage together, and then the wheezing comes as if you're lurching over and over again, as if you are trying to claw out your heart, and the tangy taste of blood lingers in the inside of your mouth like a wolf once devouring its food. The sight of something so inhuman stirred something within you: it was like being force fed ambrosia by God’s fist.

Thin, long claws curl at the end of the creature’s hands. They are blotched and smothered with sticky red, dripping down it’s palms somehow like a painter was finger-painting with elegance.

It moves too quickly for you to understand but you just see cold eyes and a pale face and feel your insides about to turn out but then Sanemi’s blade is unsheathed and metal graces skin. The sound of flesh being slit is gaunt and hangs in the air in the moments after.

But the death of the demon comes at a cost which is made evidently clear when you are left breathless at Sanemi’s crippled body, bleeding cardinal all over your clothes as you hug him tightly. Another scar to add to his collection. A scar he will wear proudly.

He’s bedridden for a whole month.

You visit everyday, after all, it was your mother who took him in under her roof and blessed him with her medicine.

And each day, you bring a different flower and different smile and a different you.

You are a world away from the horrors he has succumbed to, but he would give anything to breathe in your beauty again.

Day 1 - Spring

The first day, he’s almost embarrassed to see you. You hurry in, having ran from across town, carrying bandages and equipment, setting the stuff on the table next to him. In your grip is a small daisy, a flower you have rarely ever seen in your years of living.

“Look what I got!” The smile gracing your lips is so beautiful that gods would trade it for ichor, “Ta-da! It’s a daisy.”

Sanemi remains unperturbed, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a shop to run?”

“I closed it,” Your face falls, a sulky expression appearing, “Do you like it? It’s pretty rare. Mother told me that it only ever grows in the West.”

“Then how did you find it?” He rolls his eyes, yet you can tell he is listening avidly.

You sit at the bedside, gently unfurling his hands and placing the delicate flower there, “I guess I got lucky.”

“You’re a very bad liar,” He notes, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Okay, fine. I had my uncle get it from abroad and I ran down to the train station to get it. But it’s worth it,” You add, matching his smirk.

Sanemi looks away, “It’s worth it?”

“Only for you.”

Day 7 - Spring

By the seventh day, Sanemi is secretly excited for whenever you visit. There’s something audaciously different about you and he seems to crave it in order to feel whole again. You remind him of bittersweet love he wants to treasure but he can’t.

Because, if life had taught Sanemi anything, it’s that you will lose everything you obtain to the demons. It’s a troubling thought that tends to circle the shore of the pool inside his mind, fed by the events of his bloodied past and the even bloodier waves which drown him always.

You walk in with a couple red spider lilies in your hand, inhaling sharply having performed some errands in the morning and you can see Sanemi lost in his own head, drifting and drifting and drifting.

“Hi,” You sit down delicately and gently coo, “What are you thinking about?”

His expression turns cold, which was normal for him as you had gathered. It was difficult to mellow him into a tepid breeze, unfurl tragedy and plant warmth into his fractured soul. “Demons,” He murmurs in a low voice, almost a growl as if angered just by saying that one viperous word.

You blink, slightly stirring, “Do you… have a family to go back to?”

Upon asking it, you immediately curse yourself. It was so personal, so close and invasive. You felt like a wicked serpentine creature, worming into the crevice of something homely.

Sanemi is silent for a long time before he replies.

“Not anymore.”

You don’t push him further, just holding his hand until he falls asleep.

Day 14 - Spring

Two weeks in, Sanemi secretly awaits your visits. It’s the only thing that can take his mind off the darkness. He’s a stranger in an unfamiliar village, swallowed up by the damage to his body and the scars left in his wake. He feels constantly alone, lost in pools of his memories which torment him over and over again.

He falls asleep before you finally arrive.

(He looks so beautiful when he sleeps.)

(So beautiful.)

His features were much softer in sleep, the lines that usually creased his brow replaced by the youthful appearance that matched those of others their age. He looked peaceful. Wanting nothing more than to curl up into the curve of his body, you gently caress his forehead, murmuring a low whisper.

#kimetsu sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi fanart #kimetsu manga #kimestu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba #kny sanemi #demon slayer #kny fanfic

66 notes · View notes

danny-chase · 3 years

Note

Big Brother instinct, Dick and either Cass, Gar, Danny Chase, Steph, Kara, Rose, or anyone else u want

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dick grayson centric, Fire, Burns, hair styling, Ice Cream, Hurt/Comfort, Late Nights, Fluff and Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Missions Gone Wrong, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings Series: Part 11 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick talks with Cass after a mission doesn't go as planned.

Fic under cut

“Argh!” Dick snaps back to attention as Bruce’s angry grunt rattles through the cave. The few bats still in for the night stir, their wings rustling in the distance. An avalanche of papers fly off of Bruce’s desk, and his grizzled form slumps forward, hands firmly planted on the table. His shoulders sag under some unknown strain; as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky.

“Hmm.” Dick blinks back another wave of exhaustion, he’s not working on a case – but Bruce is – and company always makes working more fun. Besides, Bruce is on a time limit and Alfred can’t stop him from escaping his room. So. Here he is. He took an oath - it’s his job to help.

Dick’s eleven and Bruce’s a pillar of reassurance – a precariously stacked pile of rocks constantly on the verge of crumbling. He has no idea how to pick up the pieces. No idea how to seal the cracks. “Bruce?” He mumbles, swinging his legs off his spinny chair. Bruce doesn’t look up, his mouth drawn in a tight line. The ghost of tears well in his eyes. Not good.

Dick scoots off the chair, lightheaded for a moment. He shakes the stars out of his eyes, nodding back and forth, up and down, like Bruce does when he’s sleepy. It’s late. He has school tomorrow. Not that it matters. Bruce will let him skip if he asks the right way. He jogs in place for a few seconds, readying himself, warming up his muscles.

There’s not much he can do to help, but he can at least put on a little show. He runs forward launching into a cartwheel, picking up the papers as he goes – Bruce likes his tricks, sometimes they even make him laugh, sometimes –

Bruce snags his ankle out of the air, his quick reflexes saving Dick from crashing into the edge of a counter. He finds himself hanging, the world stuck upside down as his hands dangle inches from the floor. “Thanks.” He looks up at Bruce’s weary face.

A yawn escapes his lips, and the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch. “I’m going to have to child-proof the cave at this rate.” He tries for humor but it falls flat, his hearts not in it all.

He stares up, sticking his tongue out. Bruce’s frown doesn’t fade. “Are you okay?” He asks. Bruce’s hands fumble, and Dick swings dangerously low to the floor before he’s recovered. Not willing to take the chance again, he curls up, grabbing Bruce’s forearms and pulls himself up through his arms, settling himself on sturdy shoulders.

Bruce drops his feet. “I’m fine. Why would ask that?” He sounds almost hurt and Dick’s too tired to figure out why.

He slides down easily, Bruce gently deposits him on the floor. “You looked sad.” A yawn leaves his mouth without permission, he stumbles slightly, and a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He reaches back up, and Bruce throws him up against his shoulder, wrapping him in a hug.

Dick yawns contently, his eyelids fluttering without his permission, as Bruce starts walking towards the stairs. “I’m sorry…” The arm around his back pulls him a bit tighter. “I’m just not enough.” A shaking hand combs through his hair and Dick squeezes back because he doesn’t know what to say.

Bruce grunts as he takes a step up the stairs. “Sleep on it?” Dick suggests, resting his eyes for just a moment.

“Mmhmm. It’s bedtime.” Dick’s half asleep by the time they reach the top. He’s not sure he hears Bruce whisper, “You’re a great kid, chum.”

It took Dick years before he really understood the feeling. And even more years before he made the connection that that was how Bruce had felt on late nights spent scouring for clues that just didn’t seem to exist, having worked for days straight on three hours of sleep, and watching Gotham send all of it up in flames setting you back months on an investigation.

He’s learned there’s nights it’s impossible to save everyone – hell, he’s seen Clark get his ass kicked, and Clark’s damn near close to god. Dick would know – the Titans have fought their namesake. But the Titans have fought humans and lost despite half their members being godlike, and besides that most days now he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he plans, how prepared he is; sometimes things just go to hell and a handbasket and there’s nothing he can physically do to prevent it.

Most of the time, he’s fine with that. It’s fine he has limits. Logically, he knows he can’t be expected to everything. Logically, he knows it’s a waste of time to worry about it. Logically, he knows it’s okay to take a night off, watch a nature documentary, invite a friend over, stay in and spend the night simply existing.

But it feels like he could be doing more – should be doing more. He feels that restlessness overtake him, and springs to his feet “Bruce I-”

Bruce gives him his patented bat-glare from where he’s sitting, looking up from a familiar pile of papers. Once it would have intimidated him into sitting back down. Now he just returns it with a patented one of his own. “-I think I’ll suit up and head out for the night, Tim could probably use some back up with-”

“Dick.” There’s this exasperated tone that Bruce can only ever seem to muster when saying his name. He pauses for a just a second, his eyes flickering down to Bruce’s clenched fists and tight shoulders. “Let me handle it.” It comes out as an order, but reading between the lines, it’s a plea.

Bruce would never admit it out loud, worry practically bleeds out of the man. Guilt gnaws on the inside of his chest, though, he’s not sure what it’s even from; the guilt of making Bruce worry or the guilt of being a useless sack of broken and bruised ribs while people need Nightwing’s help. Being benched sucks, but he knows enough to compromise. “Let me run the comms? Babs could use a night off.” She sleeps less than him and Bruce knows it.

The gray streaks in Bruce’s hair stand out all the more as he lets out a bone deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes – he doesn’t get to do this right now. “You literally let me go out last night I don’t understand why-”

“Last night was an emergency. I didn’t have a choice.” His frown widens, his face etched in an eternal look of pain, mixed with disproval. “Two nights ago… you almost…” His mouth seals itself shut, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. It’s Bruce that breaks the gaze first. “Run the comms, don’t overexert yourself. It should be a quiet night…” He stands, hesitates before walking off “And get to bed early.”

Dick bites back a laugh, Bruce hasn’t talked to him like that since he was thirteen. “Alright.” He resists the urge to poke fun, and follows Bruce through the passage behind the grandfather clock.

“So Ives was talking about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie with me the other day, and we might go see it this weekend if I have the time. Gee- I can’t remember the last time I saw movie in theaters or even really hung out with him.” Tim’s endless chatter helps him stay awake in the dimly lit cave. His throbbing ribs help too, maybe he shouldn’t have tried doing push-ups. “Dad and Dana want to drop me off, but Ives has a car now, though dad’s still worried cuz of the time some wacko tried to stop us at a traffic light.”

Dick hums, a smile creeping its way up his face. “I can drop you off if it’s an issue.”

“Really?! That’d be awesome, you could stay for the movie if you wanted to, but I don’t know if you’d like it, I mean are pirates really your thing? I always figured you’d be more into Vikings or probably aliens actually, or something like-” A red light flashes on the screen, and Dick snaps to attention.

“Hold that thought.” Tim’s chatter ceases immediately as Dick furiously types on the terminal. He punches into the main line. “Batgirl how fast can you get to the corner of 16th and Murphy’s Ave, there’s a building on fire and you’re the only one anywhere near the Upper East Side.” A 911 operator calms down a hysterical woman in his left ear, Cass asking direction in the right.

He pulls up a map. “I-I can’t find a way out!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know what happened, I was sleeping and-” she breaks off into raspy hacks.

“Go straight, turn right after three blocks down.” Dick winces, as the lady continues chocking on smoke. “C’mon Cass. Get there.” He mutters off the line. He eyes his cycle sitting idly in the bay – he’s twenty minutes out; Cass needs backup. He opens up another line. “Batman I need you to follow Batgirl, what’s your eta?”

Bruce grunts back, he hears thudding over the line. “Fifteen minutes.” The woman screams in his other ear, he yanks the earbud out as a massive bang nearly blows out his eardrum. Picking it back up, he can’t hear the woman anymore, only the roar of flames and falling debris.

“Shit.” He pulls up video from a street camera. “Shit.” The building’s collapsing in on itself. “Permission to call the league?” He clicks through to their line of communications, his finger hovering over the button.

“Here.” Cass scrambles into view, bursting through a window. Shit.

Bruce learned his limits long ago. Dick’s finally settling into his. Cass? They simply don’t register on her radar. The buildings coming down in mere minutes; she’s going to get killed.

“What’s the situation?” Bruce yells in his ear.

“Batgirl get out of there!” He screams at Cass. She’s going to die – the building’s not stable, and he’s the one that sent her there. “Make it five minutes – the building’s coming down.” He yells to Bruce. “Batgirl!” He watches a few windows blow out. A firetruck careens down the street.

“Permission granted.” Bruce huffs and Dick can’t click the button fast enough.

A couple more windows blow out, and the building seems to lean to the side. Finally he sees Cass climb back out a window, holding a couple kids in her arms as she leaps to the ground. “BATGIRL GET THEM CLEAR!” His heart pounds in his throat as she runs forwards, the building groaning behind her, crumbling to the side. Chaos erupts, chunks of flaming debris cascading from the top of the building, as the second floor merges with the first.

Dick blinks, his mouth dry. “There’s more people-” he can’t hear Cass over the ensuing cacophony as he watches the building topple to the ground. “NO!” He faintly hears her scream as the screen erupts in static.

Dick slams his fists on the desk. His chest constricts painfully. “Nightwing. Report.” Bruce’s steady voice reminds him to breathe. His chest spasms. Shit. “Nightwing!” Bruce demands as he tries to catch his breath.

“Building collapsed.” He manages to get out. “One sec.” He takes a few deep breaths, leaning back in the chair for support. “Batgirl report.” He’s greeted with silence. “Batgirl, please, if you’re there I need you to respond.”

“I…” Cass trials off. Dick sighs in relief. “I’m sorry.” The line cuts off. Well. Shit.

“Nightwing! I’m headed to the location.” Bruce squawks. Dick sighs.

“It’s going to be a long night. Search and rescue, I’ll call in backup.” Shit. So much for an early bedtime.

“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder. He makes a grab for their wrist and misses, his mind processing where the hell he is. He blinks a few times.

“Cass?” Her hair’s plastered to the side of her head and she’s covered in soot. Nicks, rips, and tears decorate her costume. Dick wipes his eyes as the ashy smell of smoke overwhelms his senses. Cass takes a few steps back, heading towards the locker room. “Wait.” He had something to say to her, his mind racing to catch up.

She hops up onto a counter. His mind shuffles through the events earlier in the night. “Bruce sent you back?” Cass nods glumly. The rescue efforts weren’t going well when he dozed off. The JLA sent in everyone they could spare; there’s nothing they can do anymore. Not that Bruce won’t try.

Cass’s lips are sealed. There’s a haunting expression in her eyes, her shoulders slump forward, her hands firmly plant themselves on the counter for support.

And his friends think he’s too much like Bruce.

“Hey.” He starts. She gives him a weary look, tears welling in her eyes. Well, maybe not exactly like Bruce. “Look, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Cass shakes her head. “Sometimes things like this happen. I should have-”

“Stop.” Cass pulls her feet up on the counter, getting dust everywhere. “I should have been faster.” She swallows, refusing to let the tears spill over. “My fault.”

Dick watches as she glides off the counter, yanking off her gloves and dropping them on the floor. Burn marks dot her hands and the edges of her hair are singed. “You did everything you could.” She hesitates, before taking a step towards the showers.

“Not enough.” She mutters before storming off, leaving a trail of soot in her wake.

He stands up. “Cass.” The lock snaps shut with a click as she slips into the bathroom. Leaving Dick in an empty cave once more.

By the time he returns downstairs, Cass is already out of the shower, looking displeased. “You took my clothes.” She notes unhappily, a pale pink towel tucked tightly around her shoulders.

Dick watches water drip down from her hair, pattering on the floor. The trail leading back to the bathroom is now mixed with water and soot. Alfred’s going to be pissed. “I took your costume.” He clarifies. “And I brought you clothes.” He gestures towards the open door.

Cass scowls, planting her feet defiantly. “I’m going out.” She reaches out a hand. Dick shrugs – there’s no way she can find where he hid her filthy suit before they get a chance to wash it.

It’s all too familiar, reading the lines across her brow, watching her shoulders slump when she stills, and scanning red rimmed eyes. “What are you going to do like that?” He points out, Cass angrily storming towards him. “You’re tired, you’ll just end up being in the way.” He dodges left as a fist flies past his face. “You would have hit if I wasn’t right.” She’s faster than him on his best days.

She glares at him with pursed lips, staring before turning on her heel and storming off towards the bathroom. The door slams behind her, triggering the rustling of far away wings.

Dick sighs – he hopes he wasn’t this temperamental when he lived with Bruce. “Come up to the kitchen when you’re done, I need your help with something.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, though he feels a twinge of guilt as Cass groans behind closed doors.

Cass’s eyes widen as she enters the room. Dick offers a smile as she edges closer to the table. He tosses a spoon, she snags it out of the air. “Dig in.” There’s a carton of chocolate ice cream – double chocolate chunk brownie sundae with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles to be precise – and tons of candy. It’s not stuff Bruce keeps around, but Dick’s has a stash at Tim’s house reserved for movie nights. He’ll restock later.

Cass vigorously stabs the ice cream with her spoon, a smile dancing across her face as she takes a few bites. She pauses, sticking the spoon back in the cartoon, looking up with a confused expression. “Why?” She’s wearing fluffy pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks, and an old worn college sweatshirt that’s frayed at the hems. Dick can almost pretend he’s back, talking to Donna after she broke up with Roy their sophomore year of high school.

She’s watching Dick carefully. He hums casually. “You had a rough night.” This is what the Titans always did. She shrugs.

“Things happen.” She shovels a few more bites into her mouth. “I want to go out.” It’s hard for Dick to find her tough and grizzled when she’s guzzling gummi worms, kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.

“Consider this a reason to stay in.” She gives him a sideways glance. “You did as much as you can, that’s enough.” Cass looks pointedly at her ice cream, not hesitating before diving back into it.

“Spar with me?” She licks a skittle before sticking it in her mouth.

Dick snorts. “If I don’t have a heart attack, I think Bruce would.” She snaps up to attention, grabbing his wrist and quickly finding his pulse point. “I’m fine, Cass.” Her hands are freezing. He places one of his on top of hers. “If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been.” He says quietly, catching her eye. “Thank you.” She pulls back as if burned, quickly busying herself with the candy. He waits a moment before adding, “I think those kids you saved are grateful too.”

Cass throws a bag of M&M’s at him, he’s a second too slow and it pelts him in the face. “Noted.” He grins. “Uh, also, I’m going to have to do something with your hair.”

“What.”

“Cass, hold still.” She immediately stops squirming under his hands. “Thanks.” She hums back, tucked under an old blanket that never seems to leave the back of the couch. Bruce still isn’t here, but Tim checked in after his stakeout, and headed home a half an hour ago. He snips away another lock of burnt hair, tossing it into a trash can next to him.

He rests his forearms on the back of the sofa, contemplating which section of her hair to start with next. “You find one you like yet?” He asks, peeking over her shoulder at the images of hairstyles.

“Uhh.” She scrolls a bit more. “I don’t care.” She tosses the phone up to the top of the couch.

“Mmm.” He didn’t expect much else. Donna texted him a picture earlier to copy – something easy to pull back but still stylish. He attacks the next section, carefully brushing out the tangles, starting bottom to the top. He’s oddly grateful for all those times he did Donna and Kory’s hair.

‘Practice for when Bruce finally adopts a girl.’ They used to tease. ‘You’ll have a real sister, and if his track record holds she’ll have black hair and blue eyes.’ He’s never lived the irony down. Though, Cass’s eyes are a beautiful warm brown, so Donna and Kory can take that.

“You know.” He keeps his tone light. “Most hairdressers and their clients talk.” Cass remains set in stony silence. “Though I guess most people go to a salon to get their hair cut.” He just visits Joey. “Some people say it’s like free therapy.”

“You talk a lot.” Cass notes. He pulls up doodle jump on his phone and passes it back to her. She plays a couple rounds before the phone’s placed back beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He already knows the answer, but still asks all the same.

“No.” Bruce never wanted to either. Barbara used to talk to him… before he left for the Titans and took years to look back. Though he likes to dream otherwise, he knows there’ll come a day when Tim won’t want to talk to him anymore either.

It doesn’t get any easier being shut out. “That’s alright. If you change your mind I’m here.” He grabs the shears, snipping away another dead end.

“Thanks.”

“Dick.” A hiss awakes him, light following soon after. He squints, turning away to bury his face in a cushion. “Where’s Cassandra?”

He turns, eyes snapping open as he quickly scans the sofa. The blanket hangs off the edge, Cass nowhere to be seen. One of her custom batarangs sticks out of his armchair’s armrest, a few inches from his hand. “She must have found her costume.” He notes, glancing towards the pajamas crumpled in the doorway. His eyes meet Bruce’s as he lets out a tired sigh.

His hair’s dripping, fresh from a shower, and it’s singed at the edges. Dick nods towards the sheers on the coffee table. “Tomorrow.” Bruce decides, crossing the room, picking up the blanket as he goes. Dick pushes down the footrest, slowly rising to his feet. His ribs twinge at every move, in hindsight, falling asleep hanging off the side of an armchair wasn’t his best idea. Bruce hovers closer than normal, watching carefully, worry lines set in concern. “Bed.”

Dick’s too tired to argue. “Bed.” He agrees. And though Bruce doesn’t carry him, he accompanies him up the stairs.

#bad things happen bingo #dick grayson #cassandra cain #batfam #batfamily #nightwing #batgirl #my writing #sorry i've had this request for like 2 months but you know what we made it eventually 💀😅#thanks for the request anon!#i couldn't resist doing Cass but shout out to you remembering Danny Chase exists like dang iconic

13 notes · View notes

itsadamcole · 3 years

Text

christmas lights - pt. 2

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

reader and Drew are separated as they both figure out what they both want to do ...

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, angsty, upset!drew, lots of emotions

— part 2. parts 3 and 4 will be coming out tomorrow (12/22) and wednesday (12/23) just so y’all know —

masterlist || request an imagine here

part 1 || part 3 || part 4

***

You sit on the couch curled up in a ball. You're under a fuzzy blanket as you play with your engagement ring. You watch the diamond go around your finger a few times through your tears.

He cheated. You can't believe he did. He never seemed like the type to go and cheat on his significant other. He's so kind, so considerate, and so sensitive. Drew's the kind of person to make sure no one's hurt after an intense match and he immediately feels bad if he's hurt someone. He always gets upset if he hurts someone, so you don't understand why he'd just go and cheat on you, and lie about it to your face.

That night from two weeks ago flashes in your mind and you begin to cry softly on the couch. You rest your forehead on your knees and sob.

The cries echo through the empty house you once shared with Drew. It's been so quiet without the TV blaring some kind of wrestling match or without Drew yelling to wherever you were and asking you where something is. You've gotten used to it when he's away but he's supposed to be home right now. He's supposed to be holding you in his arms, and you can't stop picturing him possibly holding her in his arms.

There's a knock on the door and you get up.

You've asked Candice LeRae, Indi Heartwell, Sasha Banks, and Liv Morgan to all come over. WWE is in the area for the next few weeks and they fixed their schedules so they could come talk to you.

When you open the door, you see Candice and Indi standing there. Candice's face drops and says, "Oh, God. It's as bad as I thought."

Indi hugs you tight before Candice joins in.

"Wait, I want in!" Liv Morgan yells behind Candice and Indi. She joins in.

You feel better with your girls around. The pain temporarily goes away.

Sasha arrives shortly after Liv did and all of you sit in the living room. Candice and Liv sit on either side of you as you try to stop crying long enough to tell them what happened.

Liv gently rubs your back as you say, "So, um, Drew's been cheating on me. I don't know for how long, but on Christmas a woman sent him a photo of her in some lingerie and told him to enjoy the picture if I don't satisfy him enough." Then the tears begin.

Candice hugs you and Sasha says, "I'm gonna beat his ass, I swear to God."

You cry, "He told me that it was a friend who likes to tease him because I'm never around to have sex but I never believed him. It's such a bullshit lie."

The girls look at each other before Indi says, "When we see him, we'll give him a piece of our minds. We won't let him get away with that."

Candice asks, "What do you want to do, Y/N? What's the next step here?"

You wipe your tears and sit up. You say, "I don't know. I don't want him around but at the same time, I need him. He's the only thing in my life that's keeping me sane right now besides you guys but you're around just as much as he is. I just feel like I wasn't good enough for him and if I feel like that then what's the point in keeping him around?"

"No, sweetie," Sasha coos. "It's his loss if he wants to go and mess around behind your back. You don't deserve someone like that."

Candice takes your hand and Liv says, "You haven't talked to him, have you? Not since Christmas?"

You shake your head and say, "He told me he was going to stay at Sheamus and Cesaro's place. I haven't talked to him or seen him since. I've called out of work for at least another week because I told them that I was having family problems and needed to be placed on an indefinite leave for right now."

Indi says, "I'd say talk to him, no matter how much it hurts. If you feel like the relationship is broken then fix it. If it's too far gone then it's time to divorce him."

Divorce. Could you divorce the man you promised to spend the rest of your life with? The man you planned to start a family with? Could you do that?

Fixing what's broken sounds like the best thing to do, but is it what he wants to do? Or does he love her more than he loves you? Does he even love you anymore? Is there a relationship to even be fixed.

You could ask for less hours at work, but then when Drew's on the road you'll be lonely. If you don't change your hours then he may stray away again.

Drew hasn't reached out at all so you can only assume the worst. He did tell you to talk to him when you were ready, but will you ever be ready to talk to the man that told you he loved you but betrayed you?

***

Drew's POV

It's been two weeks. Two damn weeks and Y/N hasn't reach out at all. I think that this is it. I think I messed up so much that she's officially gone.

I almost begin to expect divorce papers at this point. That'll probably be the next time I see Y/N. She'll be handing me divorce papers to end the seven year marriage between the two of us.

Sheamus knocks on my door frame and walks in. Cesaro right behind him.

"Hey, buddy," Sheamus says. "Ya hangin' in there?"

I shake my head and say, "I can't believe I fucked up this much. I can't believe I fucking told her I cheated when I didn't. Hell, I told Diane she can keep the set and blocked her because of this. I don't know what to do, dude."

Cesaro asks, "Has Y/N reached out?"

I shake my head. "No," I say. "God, I'm an idiot. I should just expect divorce papers. There's no way that she'll believe me if I actually tell her the truth."

"Ya should try," Sheamus says. "Communication is key. Ya should talk to her and try tellin' her the truth. Beg for her forgiveness."

I look down at my hands in my lap and sigh.

Sheamus is right. I just don't think she'll believe me since I told her I cheated on her when I didn't. There's proof that I never cheated on her. I just don't think that she'll believe me if I tell her the truth.

My phone begins to ring and I immediately answer it, hoping it's Y/N.

"Drew, you asshat," Candice LeRae says to me. "You cheated on her?"

Of course she told Candice. Indi, Sasha, and Liv all probably think that too.

I say, "I never cheated. She took a text the wrong way. I wasn't able to explain myself so yeah, I told her I cheated but I never cheated."

Candice says, "Tell me your side. Maybe I can get her to reach out to you so she can get your side."

"I have a friend, Diane," I start. "Well, had. She's blocked on everything now. Anyway, she and I bought Y/N a gift for Christmas. It was a lingerie set and I wanted a woman opinion on it so I took Diane shopping with me and she helped me pick it out. It was a surprise for Y/N. So Diane asked me to come over to come get it but Y/N was home and I didn't want to leave because it's been so long since I saw Y/N. Diane decided to mess with me by sending me a picture of herself in the set I bought for Y/N and said 'I'm sorry ya couldn't come over. This is for ya. Enjoy it if that wife of yers doesn't satisfy ya enough', and Y/N saw the text and immediately accused me of cheating."

Candice is quiet the entire time as I explain myself to her. Sheamus and Cesaro listen too.

I continue with, "And I might've told Y/N that I cheated because she wasn't believing me and I thought that it was what she wanted to hear."

Sheamus and Cesaro both facepalm and Candice says, "You're a dumbass, you know that? She's a crying mess over here and she thinks that she wasn't good enough for you, Drew. She's called out of work indefinitely and she's probably been over here crying for two weeks. You need to fix this."

I rub my face and I say, "I know that! I don't know how. She probably doesn't want to talk t'me and it wouldn't surprise me if she's called a divorce lawyer at this point."

"She doesn't know what she wants to do," Candice sighs. "I think she wants to talk things out but I don't think she thinks there's a relationship to fix. You need to do something, Drew. Soon."

I sigh and say, "I will. I just need some time, okay? Make sure she's okay and I'll talk t'her soon."

Candice says, "Alright, but you're still a dumbass and I know Y/N loves you so I'll do what I can. I believe you, by the way. That is way too elaborate to be a lie."

"Gee, thanks," I mumble.

We say goodbye and I look between Sheamus and Cesaro as I hang up the phone.

I sigh, "How did I get here?"

Sheamus says, "Your first mistake was going lingerie shopping with a woman that wasn't your wife."

He's probably right about that. Well, not probably. He's right about that.

It was that event that snowballed into this, and I hate the situation that I'm in. I told Y/N to reach out to me when she was ready but if she doesn't think there's a relationship to fix then she'll reach out to me when she needs me to sign divorce papers.

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre x reader #wrestling imagine #wrestling angst #wwe imagine #wwe angst #imagines #imagine #angst imagine #christmas imagine

74 notes · View notes

xxisxxisxxis · 3 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Four [PT.1]

Words: 3.1k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of substance abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @edwardtriggerhandzz @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie @emariehorror @divaanya @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @abaldboi @liith-ium @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @ytwahsog @scarecrowmax @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @cruecifymesixx @meetthesixxter @arianareirg @gingerspicetalks

@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror @blowinmeupwithherlove @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @viinceneil

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

NIKKI

"My wife doesn't tell me she's having an important surgery done, no, no, she just tells her girl friend Sharise who tells Vinnie and I'm the last one to fucking know about it." I tell Amber.

"I didn't wanna stress him out." Vivian insists, raising her brows.

"No, you just don't wanna keep me in the know just to piss me off." I argue.

"Nikki, go to hell." She tells me.

"You're not talking to him like that in here," Amber scolds her. "Just like he's not talking to you like that. We aren't doing that anymore. That was the issue last week. I didn't stop you two from talking trashy to each other and it got you where you are right now." She states. "Vivian, why didn't you tell Nikki about your procedure?"

"I didn't even tell the father of my kid I was having it done--I'm just a private person." She tells her.

"Duff doesn't even know?"

"No, he doesn't, and he's not going to." She looks at me.

Note to self: call Duff when she leaves.

"Why haven't you him?" Amber asks her next.

"Because I was freaking out over it enough as it was. I didn't need more people freaking out over it." She says. "So I just told Sharise because she was the one driving me home from it."

Amber just raises her brows and thinks for a second, her lips pursed.

"You see what I have to deal with?" I ask as I motion to Viv.

"Nikki, please." Vivian rolls her eyes.

"And she wonders why I won't fuck her. She doesn't deserve it at the moment." I add.

"Your dick isn't made of gold, Nikki, it's some trophy I should have to earn--especially when you clearly have no qualms tossing it around like a hot potato from one pussy to the next."

"That's not how you were acting last week." I argue. "

"But you won't fuck me because I'm not Vanity." She says back.

"I won't fuck you because the thought of screwing a pregnant chick makes my skin crawl." I admit.

"You'll go down on me while I'm on the rag but me being eleven weeks pregnant--barely showing--is where you draw the line?"

"Right, sorry, 'I won't fuck you because the thought of screwing a pregnant chick makes my skin crawl when she's pregnant with a baby she cheated on me to conceive,' there, that's better." I correct myself.

"At least I know the lovechild I have, exists. Do I even wanna think about the girls you've probably knocked up across the globe the last several years?" She accuses me.

"Unlike you, dear, I know how to fucking use condoms." I cut back at her.

"Gee, can't imagine where I learned to hate condoms in the first place." She sarcastically adds.

"Fuck if I know, you were telling me to take the damn thing off the first time we even had sex, little miss, 'I'm a virgin', 'this is my first time,' which looking back now is so obviously bullshit." I scoff.

"I was until you fucking corrupted me."

"My apologies, I didn't realize I was creating a cum monster whose main ambition was to procreate."

"And I didn't realize I was creating a codependent junkie." She doesn't hesitate to throw back at me and we're both silent just enough for Amber to cut in.

"I am going to give you two homework." She says, sighing, glancing at the clock.

We're out of time.

"I want you two to write each other a letter, one that doesn't involve putting one another down, and I want you to pick a time--any experience or memory with on another--that you consider the happiest you've been with each other, and I want you to mail them to each other, and next visit you'll read each other's letters back to one another to remind that person what they wrote. Sound easy?"

We just look at each other, not saying a word.

I didn't want to waste my time writing something for her that she'd just rip up without reading, and I knew she would, and I could see she didn't want to do that, either.

I'm great at song writing...but love letters?

I think back to the last love letter I wrote for Viv...the one in the back of her Bible I gave to her.

It kind of hurts that one of the last physical confessions of love I gave to her was practically a suicide note.

I close my eyes and groan, rubbing my forehead.

Fuck.

I try to think back to my happiest time with her over the last years.

Like flicking through the index of my mind--as best as I can, at least…

I let out a heavy sigh as I flip from channel to channel, chewing my gum, getting frustrated when I can't find anything interesting to watch.

"Are you gonna find a channel and stick to it or are you gonna keep flipping through the same channels and expect programming to change in a matter of seconds?" Vivian asks in a borderline snap, getting aggravated with me.

I just roll my jaw and turn the T.V. off, tossing the remote onto the coffee table.

"I didn't say turn it off, Nikki, you can watch T.V., just pick a channel and stick to it." She sighs, her Bible still in hand, the pad she's using to take notes in, in her lap.

"No. You just read your shit in peace and quiet. Sorry for the interruption." I reply, passively.

"Nikki, turn the T.V. back on and watch it."

"I'm good." I state.

"Ugh, you are such a whiney baby." She mumbles and I raise my brows, looking at her.

"I'm a what?" I ask, and she looks at me.

"A whiney baby."

"A whiney baby?"

"Yeah." She says it surely.

I'm grabbing her socked foot that's in my lap, making her squeal, her Bible and notepad falling in the floor when she kicks at me as I start tickling her foot.

"Nikki, stop!" She laughs out, sitting up and trying to fight me off of her.

"No, I'm a whiney baby remember?" I remind her, letting her foot go, getting on top of her, my hands moving to her waist, making her laugh again, trying to push me off of her.

I lean down and kiss her exposed neck, and stop tickling her, instead wrapping my arm under her, pulling her against me, settling between her legs.

She sighs and kisses me when I lean down to her.

Once we pull away for air, I run my thumb over her lip and she blinks up at me, slowly.

I can tell she's thinking, "what the hell is this? What are we doing? We aren't dating, we're not just friends, though, so what are we, Sixx?"

I don't know, either.

I'd tell her that but I don't want to freak her out or something.

I like her, a lot...more than a lot…

"What is it?" She asks me, and I realize I've just been staring at her.

"I, uh...I'm not really seeing anyone else anymore, you know?" I say, hoping she gets the hint, and she raises her brows a little.

"Oh." She replies.

"Not that it's a big deal or anything." I add.

"I wasn't thinking it was." She shakes her head a little...but I can practically see her doing little mental cartwheels and screaming out with joy.

I just smile at her, kissing her again.

I wrinkle my nose at the memory, not quite sure if that's when I was at my happiest with her.

I just decide to keep digging through more of my memory--what's left of it, that is--until I'm grabbing my pen, and writing away at the paper.

"Shhh, shh, you're gonna wake her up!" Vivian whisper yells at me as she holds a sleeping Skylar, the little baby wrapped up in a thick blanket, pacifier in mouth, knocked out cold.

"It's nearly 5:00a.m., what the hell are you doing up?" I ask her, trying to talk straight after a night of booze and blow.

"She hasn't slept since midnight. I've been trying everything but she just dozes for a few minutes and then wakes back up and whines." She explains.

She looks tired...exhausted, really.

"You want me to hold her and you go to bed?"

"She doesn't like you, the second she gets the feelings you're holding her, she'll wake you screaming." She reminds me.

"She likes me." I argue.

"Nikki, she purposely pees on you anytime you change her diaper, she gets antsy when you hold her--not to mention the amount of times you weren't paying attention and put her clothes on backwards or inside out and she pitches a fit."

"Hey, trying to dress a squirmy kid is military-grade patience training. If you try to perfect whatever it is she's wearing, she gets irritated and just wants down and starts moving around more and making it more difficult to get some clothes on her." She just chuckles a little and gets quiet in the light of the little reading lamp, her eyes closing slowly.

"Viv,"

"Hmm?"

"Go put the baby in the little crib thing Sharise brought over and go lay down." I tell her, quietly.

"I'm fine where I'm at." She insists, but I know she's not.

I take the chance and gently pick Skylar up, causing Vivian to say, "Nikki, don't wake her up," and I carefully make sure not to wake her as I carry her to the guest bedroom and put her in her playpen on her back like Sharise drilled into mine and Viv's heads to be sure of.

She doesn't wake up, and when I get back to the living room, Vivian's asleep in her chair, cuddled under the blanket she had Skylar under.

"Alright," I nudge her awake and she hums, furrowing her brows. "C'mon," I say to her, and she reaches her hands out. "What is it?" I ask her.

"Can you carry me?" She asks and I sigh out.

"Yeah, baby," I don't tell her, 'no,' despite not knowing whether or not we'll get to the bedroom because I'm tired and I know she obviously is, too, and she's not light as a feather--which will just make me more tired by the time I head to the bedroom.

I scoop her up and make it to the bed, only nearly dropping her once due to losing my footing--which that's not her fault. That's just the evidence of my night out.

When I lay her on the bed and pull my clothes off, crawling in beside her, she's snuggling up to me under the covers.

"You smell good." She mumbles to me.

"I don't know how. I smell like cologne, sweat, and booze." I mumble back, my eyes closed.

"You smell good." She repeats it.

"You do, too." I reply.

"I showered. You should try it some time." She says.

"Okay, Sixx, don't make me whoop your ass at five in the morning." I tell her, keeping my eyes closed, and she giggles, pressing her lips to my cheek, and my jaw, her nails trailing down my chest to my abdomen, deliberately running over the trail of hair leading down to my…

"It's five in the morning." I groan out, biting back a moan when her hand wraps around me, another kiss being pressed to my cheek.

"We can be done in a couple minutes." She tells me.

"I thought you were tired." I reply, trying to wake myself back up being that a certain part of me is up and alert. I rake my hands down my face as she straddles me, before looking up at her. "You're like those spiders that wait for the males to be vulnerable then they fuck 'em and kill 'em." I add, despite my hands running up her thighs to her waist…

"You always complain about early morning sex but then by seven o'clock you're the one not letting me tap out." She reminds me.

I just grab her hips and push her off of me before getting on her, making her laugh before my mouth catches hers, my teeth bitting at her lip before my tongue smoothes over it, making her moan softly.

By the time we're finished and satisfied, I'm getting off of her with deep breaths, the both of us gasping for air, covered in sweat--even our hair.

We don't hear Skylar down the hall which is a good sign that she's still asleep.

It's weird having a baby in the house. I know it's temporary, until Vince and Sharise get back from their little Florida getaway, but it's odd taking care of someone else aside from Vivian.

I wonder what it would be like if Viv would've actually been pregnant when we got married like she thought she was.

We'd have a two year old by now.

How fucking bizarre would that be raising a kid in this life at the moment.

Sure, Vince is doing it, but that's because Sharise is solid as a fucking rock.

I'd take a bullet for Vivian--fucking die for her--but she's not solid like that, not right now, at least. She used to be.

I mean she's still sober as shit but sobriety doesn't help much when you're wired even though you don't have a drop of anything in your system.

Look at me, like I'm one to be talking about dependability.

I look over at her, she's passed out, damp red hair across her pillow, covers pulled over her shoulder…

I reach over and run my fingertips across her cheek, the palm of my hand moving up to smooth over her hair as rays of sun start to filter through the small parting in the blackout curtains.

I'd love to have a kid in a couple years--maybe even within the next year--it just depends on the band, whether we're where we need to be by then or not...whether me and Viv are where we need to be or not, too.

Which as of right now, we're great.

We're more than great.

We haven't argued in two weeks.

Two fucking weeks.

Who the hell goes that long without arguing? Certainly not us, but here we are.

We weren't fighting as much because we were having sex like bunnies. I'm talking at least twice a day--Twice. A. Day. For two and a half weeks.

Looking back, I know it's because she was in the wake of a miscarriage, I was in the wake of Vince and Razzle's tragedy, we were both craving a quick fix and I guess sex is how we were illusioned into believing we were healing.

In reality we obviously weren't solving anything, just brushing it under the rug, but it was honestly the happiest I had been with her for our marriage.

It was peaceful. We weren't at each other's throats. We weren't at war. We looked forward to seeing each other and spending time with each other, and it was the closest we got to being how we were when we were just dating...so that, for me at that time, was the happiest I remember us being.

The next day I'm taking my enveloped and stamped letter down to the mailbox in the hall near the recreation room, passing by Amber on my way, seeing her nod at me in acknowledgment before I'm halting myself and coming back to see her.

"Hey, Doc, I need a word." I tell her.

"Can it wait, Mr. Sixx, I'm running late for a meeting?"

"I wanna know why having sex with my wife is a bad thing?" I ask, and she stops and looks at me.

"It's not. Nobody said it was." She tells me.

"You told me it might jeopardize our progress if we move too fast."

"Because it very well could. You both have co-dependence intertwined in your sex lives." She explains.

"Well, I don't know if you've been paying attention to the last couple sessions but my wife has needs right now. And not having sex with her right now is jeopardizing our progress because she thinks something's wrong with her."

"But you've told me, and her, you don't desire her because she's currently carrying another man's child."

"I've been thinking about it and I told her I'd work this out with her and how I've acted towards her is kinda contradictory to that." I admit. "And I can't go home and screw her into next week because you've got me paranoid about messing things up, now."

"Have you told her my opinion on sex in your relationship as of now?"

"No."

"Well, then, tell her about it and I'll take the blame for it."

"I don't want you to take the blame for anything, I want you to 'ok' me banging my wife."

"If you want to, 'bang,' your wife, then you can do that. There's not a law in the universe barring you from getting intimate with her."

"Sure as shit feels like it." I argue.

"Tell you what, you talk to her about it--tell her my opinion--and we'll touch on it in the next session." She suggests.

"Pun intended?" I ask and she furrows her brows, looking unamused.

"...Okay, nevermind." I mumble.

"I'll see you Friday for your session with the boys, have a good day." She tells me, giving me a nod before walking away.

I just shake my head a little, irritated, and drop my letter in the mail box, heading to the payphone to try to call Vivian.

"Hello?" She answers on the second ring and I clear my throat.

"H-Hey, it's me," I say, and she's quiet for a moment.

"Hey," she finally answers and I let out a breath of relief.

"Do you wanna visit tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something." I tell her.

"Is this where you tell me you're filing for a divorce afterall?" She asks and I rub my lips together.

"No, Viv, it's not. It's about our sex thing." I struggle trying to define it.

"Can we even have a sex thing if we aren't even having sex?"

"Ha. Ha. Smartass." I state. "Seriously, you wanna come?"

"More than you know." She replies and I can't help but laugh.

"Pun not intended." She adds. "I'll be there around nine o'clock, if that's okay? I have another appointment to check on the baby since the surgery and then I'm gonna try to go shopping for some decently healthy things because I'm gaining too much weight at the moment."

"You're pregnant--that's your excuse to eat whatever the fuck you want, when you want it, isn't? Like a chick liberation thing or something."

"I'm eating too much junk, I don't want to pop out a fifteen pound baby. My pussy will rip to my ass." She says and I get a horrifying image. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Nikki, I gotta go."

"Alright, see you then. Bye, baby."

"Bye." She replies softly before hanging up.

I pick at the inside of my lip with my teeth, another thought coming to mind...and my eyes shift to my pinky ring on my right hand...the same one I'd proposed to Vivian with back in '83.

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction

27 notes · View notes

dickspeightjrs · 4 years

Text

Dean still thanked Bobby every day for giving him a job at his store. Bobby would only respond with ‘shut up and stop thanking me ya idjit!’

But still, Dean was grateful. With Sam in his first year of college (Stanford Smart-Ass), even with a hefty scholarship, affording to live is still a bitch – especially in one of the most expensive states in the country.

So, on top of his job during the week as a TA at the local university, Dean picks up a couple shifts over the weekend at his Uncle Bobby’s vintage antique store.

Now, while Dean was extremely grateful, the gratefulness didn’t stop the fact that the job was boring as hell.

If you asked Dean, half the stuff in the store looked like it should be donated to Goodwill not be in a vintage store on sale for hundreds of dollars.

(It’s not that Dean didn’t understand the appeal of vintage items. He could appreciate a vintage beauty. His car was a prime example of that. However, despite what the price tags may say, none of this junk held a candle to his beautiful 67 Chevy Impala.)

The place was hardly heaving, even on weekends. And when customers did come in each interaction went one of two ways:

People brought in their old junk in an attempt to pass it off as some rare artefact. Trying to convince those people that what they thought was a valuable medal, passed down through generations may as well have come out of a Happy Meal was not Dean’s favourite way to spend his Saturday.

The second, and perhaps the worst, type of customer would be the rich, entitled people who come into the shop wanting to expand their collection of antiques (which Dean knew without having to visit their homes that they only purchase to show off their wealth and don’t particularly care where they come from). They could be buying a Victorian butt plug to display on their mantelpiece but wouldn’t care as long as it’s as old and expensive as possible.

Dean had a customer just last week who took hours trying to haggle on the price of an antique brooch, despite clearly being about to afford it at full price. If Dean didn’t need the job to support Sam he would have told the woman exactly what he thought of her. (Even Bobby had rules when it came to professionalism). Regardless, she was a total –

“I need a ring!”

Dean was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of a man entering the store looking pretty flustered – emphasis on the pretty.

The man made quick strides of the distance between the door and the counter where Dean was still stood – transfixed by the frankly beautiful man coming towards him.

The man stopped and let out a deep and calming sigh.

“I need a ring.” He repeated more smoothly.

Regardless of how he feels about the customers, no one could say Dean wasn’t awesome at his job. So he put on his best customer service smile, tried to ignore the things this man was making his body feel and silently thanked Bobby once again for this.

“Of course, Sir. Was there anything in particular you had in mind?”

The man frowned.

“Please. There’s no need to call me ‘Sir’. Just call me Castiel.”

Castiel. Angelic

Go figure.

“Okay, Castiel. Are you looking for any kind of ring in particular?”

As he spoke, Dean started to move towards the key box that held the key to unlock the glass cabinet, which housed all of their rings.

“Your most expensive if possible, please.”

Dean stopped in his tracks and looked momentarily at Castiel with wide eyes.

Not only is this dude hot as fuck, he’s rich as fuck too?

Dean was used to asshole rich people throwing their money around but even they had a limit. Coming in and asking for the most expensive ring before even seeing it? Dean didn’t care how gorgeous this guy was, or how blue his eyes were, or how rough his voice sounded, or how sharp his jawbone looked, or –

Anyway! This dude was clearly a douchebag so Dean wasn’t interested.

He opened the glass case and lifted out the most expensive ring, placing it delicately on a black cloth for Castiel to look at.

Castiel picked it up between his finger and thumb – inspecting carefully.

He seemed so quiet and unassuming – nothing like the normal wealthy douchebags Dean encountered. Maybe he got him wrong. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“Yes, I think she’ll like that one.”

Ah. So not a douchebag but definitely not single.

Dean sighed internally. That put an end to that before it even began.

Castiel dropped the ring back onto the surface and reached into his pocket for his wallet. Dean picked up the ring and carefully placed it inside the matching box. He was painfully aware that ring was worth more than he could earn in almost a year. Even if Castiel was single, Dean would never keep up with that amount of wealth.

He tried not to let the disappointment of Castiel’s impending engagement affect him – he was still just a stranger after all (a beautiful one at that his brain unhelpfully supplied). Dean plastered on his customer service smile.

“Would you like our complimentary cleaning cloth to help maintain its colour? We recommend cleaning it properly every week or so with this cloth as it is one of the older items in our collection.”

Castiel thought for barely a moment, “Sure.”

Gee, for a guy about to spend the rest of his life with the love of his life, he sure seemed uninterested in a pretty essential part of the process. This was just getting more and more depressing – and confusing.

Dean rushed to finish the transaction so he could get back to the normal status quo of the regular two types of customers and not a third who comes barreling in and turns his system upside down.

He finished the payment – Castiel barely flinched when Dean told him the price – and packed the ring carefully with the cleaning cloth into a gift bag.

“Thank you and I hope you and your soon-to-be fiancée have a wonderful life together.”

It pained Dean to say as he looked into Castiel’s eyes. Bobby should give him a raise just for the smile he was fighting to keep on his face.

As if Dean couldn’t take anymore, Castiel tilted his head and squinted his eyes making himself look adorable as hell.

“I’m not getting engaged.”

What?!

“What?”

“I’m not getting engaged.”

“B-but you just bought a really fucking expensive engagement ring!”

The confused part of Dean’s brain was overpowering the other part screaming ‘He’s not getting engaged – he might be single!’

“It’s for my mother.”

“Okay dude, you’re gonna have to walk me through this one. I mean, I love my mom but who drops that much on a ring for their mom?”

“My mother loves material things and good reputations – perhaps more than her own children. She has been rather angry with me for a few days so in order to ‘get back in her good books’ I needed to get the most expensive and oldest piece of jewellery I could. I see her tonight, hence why I was so flustered when I came in.”

Dean chose to ignore how adorable Castiel looked doing air quotes – his bran was about to explode.

“Ouch. What did you do to make her angry enough to need something as pricey as this?” Dean indicated to the bag he realised he was still holding out.

“My brother accidentally told her I’m gay.”

At this point, the other side of Dean’s brain finally took over.

DUDE HE’S NOT GETTING ENGAGED. HE’S PROBABLY SINGLE. AND HE’S INTO DUDES! ASK! HIM! OUT!

After a few prolonged seconds of Dean having an internal breakdown, Castiel started to look uneasy. Dean immediately recognised that uneasiness and managed to spit out a sentence that actually made sense.

“She’s angry at you for being gay? Sounds like a complete bitch to me.”

Dean realised what he’d said and instantly went to take it back but was stopped by the smirk on Castiel’s face.

“Oh don’t worry. She is. But as I said, she puts good reputations before her children and that means she’s paying for my law school. Well, what she thinks is law school.” There was that smirk again. Dean might just die. “I’m actually getting a degree in Education and Psychology. But I’ve got a year left so I need her to keep paying for my tuition. The day I graduate is the day I walk away from that family for good.”

Castiel held his head a little higher at that and Dean couldn’t help but admire the guy. Sucking up to a homophobic mom while tricking her into paying for the degree he wants? Frickin’ badass!

“Dude, I don’t know you from Adam, but, going on that ring alone, are you sure you could give up all that money?”

Castiel shrugged. “I’ve never been interested in it. I suppose that made me a bit of a black sheep. Add in the fact I’m gay, it pushed my mother over the edge. Hence the much too expensive ring.”

Wow. Was this guy for real?

Dean stood up from where he’d been leaning on the counter, listening with rapt attention. He put his hands in his pockets, looked down at a scratch in the counter top and looked up again slowly meeting Castiel’s eyes.

“So you’re not getting engaged?”

“Nope. Far from it, in fact.”

“You’re giving up the family money to live your own independent life?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re definitely into guys?”

Castiel smirked. “Yes. Very much so.”

“So… would you wanna go out some time? I promise it’ll probably be the cheapest date you’ve ever been on – I’m not exactly loaded myself.”

Dean avoided Castiel’s gaze, picking at the scratch on the counter.

A finger came out and lifted his chin, forcing him to meet Castiel’s eyes again.

“That sounds perfect. I’d love to go out with you but I do have one condition.”

Dean’s heart soared. He was starting to wonder where this guy had been all his life.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me your name.”

Dean threw his head back as a sharp, loud laugh burst through him.

The one day he forgot to wear his name tag. (He could hear Bobby’s ‘idjit’ ringing in his head.)

“It’s Dean.”

“Okay Dean, I’ll be out of town for a few days – to deliver the ring and reassure my mother that my brother was wrong, that her law school son is just looking for the right woman to settle down with.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “But when I get back I’d love to get burgers and see a movie or something?”

Dean’s smile could outshine the sun.

“Sounds awesome.”

* * *

A year later, they were all gathered in Dean’s garden celebrating Castiel’s graduation.

Since they met, Dean’s family had slowly started becoming Castiel’s too.

Now, Castiel was free from his biological family and was surrounded by his found family.

Dean was telling his Aunt Ellen the story of how they’d met but Castiel had zoned it out, focused only on looking at the beautiful man he got to call his.

“What a bitch!”

Castiel was drawn back into the conversation by Dean’s ‘cousin’ Jo’s outburst. Ah. They’re up to that point in the story.

Everyone in the group was looking at Castiel with sympathy and anger in their eyes.

Castiel shrugged.

“It’s fine. I used the family credit card to pay for the ring anyway. Plus I left with the most priceless item in that store anyway.”

The small crowd aww’d as Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Castiel in for a kiss.

This was my first fic since 2016 so please forgive if it’s a bit naff! I’m still re-finding my feet.

If you’d like to be tagged any of my future stuff just drop me a message and let me know. :)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #supernatural #myfic #fluff #misunderstandings #au #2k #jealous!dean #slightly

137 notes · View notes

pricetagofficial · 4 years

Text

I’ll Protect You -J.T.

Summary: You go to a haunted house with Jason, but things might not have gone to plan.

Paring: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Language, spooky-ness, fluff

Tags: @starxfires

Word Count: 592

A/N: I know it’s not that long, but this was so cute! I am mega chicken so I am not so sure how haunted houses actually work because I have never been in one. (ALSO WHY THE HELL DOES THIS GIF EXIST!?)

“This place gives me the creeps.” you muttered, wrapping the large jacket around you. Jason held your hand tightly as he led you through the Haunted House. It was one of the big budget one that were scattered across town, and you had mentioned in passing that you thought it would be a cute date. Of course, Jason agreed.

Getting the chance to comfort you when you got scared? He loved that idea, only he hasn’t expected it to be this scary. When he read about it online, he had made sure to not pick any that had any scary clowns. Heaven knows that they two of you dealt with those enough times in your life.

“It is a haunted house babe, but don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” he grinned, pulling you closer by the hand.

You simply rolled your eyes, the hall way the two of you entered was dark and seemed to go on forever. It had been a little bit since you had been scared last, and the both of you knew that it was coming.

You saw it coming, but even then when the zombie popped out and yelled, you juped into Jason’s arms Scooby-Doo style and screamed at the top of your lungs. Lucky that Jason wasn’t as surprised as you were, he caught you with a laugh and held you close.

“Gee (y/n), if you wanted me to carry you all you had to do was ask.” he chuckled.

“Fuck you.”

“Once we get back home you can.” he laughed.

Embarrased at his comment, you hit him on the chest lightly. “Asshole.” you muttered.

Jason leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Relax baby girl, I won’t let anything hurt you.” he promised.

Hearing that set you at ease a little, but you still refused to walk the rest of the way. That was a bad idea, even though the two of you made it through most of the haunted house, there was one scare at the end that sent the both of you running for the hills.

Jason still had you in his arms when it happened, he had successfully protected you from everything in the house like the perfect boyfriend he was and was proud of it. The two of you laughed about how it wasn’t actually that bad. What neither of you knew, was that one of the cast members was following you.

You thought you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, but brushed it off as the fan flowing the decor around. The exit was right there, no one was going to jump out at you right?

Wrong.

The person grabbed Jason’s shoulder and screamed at the both of you. Jason jumped so high, that he had actually dropped you because he was so scared and fell to the floor with you.

Once you were done screaming, you noticed that it had actually scared Jason and you started to laugh. He looked at you with a slight frown, but a smile hidden behind his eyes. “You really think it’s that funny?” he asked.

You could hide the laughter anymore as you nodded your head. Jason got to his feet and picked you up over his shoulder and walked out of the exit before carrying you to his car.

“I’ll show you funny when we get home.” he said and practically threw you into his car as he drove back to the place you shared. You were in for one hell of a night after all of that.

87 notes · View notes

introductions-are-a-spook · 3 years

Text

Reblogs and feedback always appreciated!

@kissthe-gogoat Let me know if you want to be added to / taken off the tag list!

Aqua eyes slowly opened, and a hand reached to a pair of glasses nearby. Maxwell blinked a few times, adjusting to the light streaming through his curtains. And then he paused.

There, sprawled out on his couch, was Andrew. Sleeping peacefully, a piece of sheet music held over his chest. He looked very sunny, with rays reflecting on his hair and making his cheeks glow. Maxwell sat on the edge of his bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, and gazed at the other man a little longer.

Nothing had happened, other than them staying up far too late to keep working on the piece, which they had finished. Luckily it was the weekend, and while they had slept late, they had slept well. Maxwell checked the clock. Eleven. Stretching his arms above his head and throwing on a robe, he went to the kitchen and began to make breakfast.

He thought about the day before. What had happened to wanting to bring the hammer down? He had investigated Andrew a grand total of once, and even then, what had he done- look around his house a bit? Read over the obligatory and lifeless reports on him from the police department? And yet even that pathetic inkling of progress had been squashed as soon as he looked into Andrew’s indigo eyes.

Meanwhile, those same eyes were just beginning to open on the couch upstairs. He sat up with a start, before recognizing his surroundings and relaxing. He rubbed his eyes and looked around for his glasses. Stumbling his way across the room, he finally found them on Maxwell’s bedside table. Why were these here? He took a moment to remind himself that nothing like that had yet happened.

Yet. And that was the problem. Andrew wasn’t going to lie to himself, he had had a liking for Maxwell for a long time. And now he was almost certain that Maxwell felt the same, Andrew selfishly wanted more.

And yet everything screamed at him to turn back. Yes, Antigone was now the obvious reason. Who knew what he had in store? He seemed to think of Andrew as a sort of unwitting lackey. He might hurt Maxwell, might force him into the same position. Might simply manipulate him into going away. But what about the simple fact that Maxwell was a detective? Andrew had not missed the repetition of his own name on Maxwell’s case pinboard. What if this whole relationship was a ploy for information?

Maybe it didn’t matter, Andrew told himself. It was too early to tell much about these things, but it wasn’t too soon to attempt to continue the relationship, that both undeniably wanted.

As he thought, he found that he had wandered downstairs. He smelled something that had a burnt twinge to it.

“Max? Is something burning?” he called as he walked into the kitchen.

“Not anymore,” indeed, there he was, body failing to block the view of a singed frying pan dropped in a pot of water. “And did you just call me ‘Max?’”

Andrew tried and failed not to laugh. “Um. Yeah, is that okay?”

Maxwell hesitated for a moment. “I suppose I don’t see why not, if it’s just you. Just don’t confuse me for the cat.”

“Cat? What ca-” Andrew was cut off when he felt something soft and warm rub against his leg. Indeed, a black cat had taken to purring at him.

“Her name is Maxie, so you don’t get to call me that. So does this mean I can call- are you even listening to me?” Andrew hummed a yes while sitting down and petting the cat, who now had happily crawled onto his lap. Max chuckled. “I see you two are friends now. But if you’re going to call me ‘Max’ then I’m going to call you ‘Andy.’”

Another hummed a yes and a pitiful ‘no’ as the cat got up, stretched, and trotted off to find it’s water. “Sounds good to me. And…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe you should let me do the cooking and baking from now on.”

Max blushed. “Fine.”

~*~

The two had spent the day together, in Max’s library (luckily none of his siblings were around to ruin the mood). Occasionally they would stop to go on a walk or get sweets at the closed bakery.

When evening rolled around, Andy proposed the idea of a third date. There was a dance that he was invited to that evening, and he needed a partner. Max cheerfully agreed and they set to getting ready and meeting back up again when they were done.

Both looked positively dashing as they walked into the dance hall, turning a few heads. The room itself was beautiful, lit by a chandelier and decorated by all manner of gold. Mediocre in the eyes of the rich, but paradise in the eyes of the average. Someone called to Andy, to explain who his new partner was. Max laughed and dropped his grip from Andy’s elbow to his hand. And so, the music, drinking, and fun began. The two danced their way through the first few songs, laughing and talking like any other couple in the room.

“God, my feet are getting tired,” Andy laughed. “Where’d you learn to dance like this?”

Max grinned tipsily and relaxed in Andy’s arms. “My mother tried to teach me, but it was my sibling Casey who made me keep going. I suppose it paid off.”

“Hell yeah it did! I’m sure as hell glad you…” Andrew trailed off, eyes transfixed on a woman across the room. Her fiery emerald eyes shot right through him, holding his gaze and promptly sobered him up.

But just as Maxwell began to ask what was wrong, the next song started and Andrew’s mind cleared. The dance had them switch partners every thirty seconds or so.

They flitted from person to person, a cycle that eventually led Andrew to the green-eyed lady. As soon as he was up close to her. he recognized her. She was at the house he tried to burgle, just before meeting Antigone! But more than that, she was… Okay, stay calm, it’ll be okay.

She glared at him as she quickly and resentfully spoke. “Well, if it isn’t Andrew Winston. I figured you’d want to spend your evening on another heist.”

“Jennifer McAllen! I haven’t seen you since, uh, a while ago! Gee, I don’t think I know-”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean.”

Andrew was going to ask more questions, but the music forced them to move along. But instead of continuing on, he pulled her out into the hallway. Away from prying eyes and ears, he became much more serious.

“Alright, cut the crap, Jenny. What are you talking about? What do you know?” he snapped at her.

“What don’t I know, asshole! You left me three years ago, just like that, and now you break into my house! And then you have the audacity to strut around with a goddamn detective? Especially Chapman of all people, what the hell is wrong with you!” Andrew tried to protest, but she cut him off and shoved him away.

They used to be best friends- partners in crime, even- before they had the argument. Jennifer wanted to settle down a bit as they got older, go back to her life as a higher-up, but Andrew wanted to keep going full speed ahead. They couldn’t work it out, and so one night, Andrew snuck out and drove to London, leaving Jennifer behind and taking her secrets with him.

Andrew shut up. He knew not to interrupt her when she got like this. She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright, well, maybe this isn’t all bad. That pompous brat has been snooping around my life, trying to shake the skeletons out of my closet. Ones that you helped me get! So help me god, Andrew, if you don’t dump this guy and help me out, I will burn your life to the ground. Hear me?” Her words startled Andrew, and he backed away even further.

He took a moment to think and compose himself. He knew how conniving Jenny could be- he had seen it himself- but give up Maxwell to satisfy her? And then there was Antigone, who also wanted Maxwell gone. And he had shown that he was a much more violent man, over Jennifer’s scheming. The two of them combined, even if they weren’t working together, could be detrimental.

And yet, he simply wasn’t willing to let Max go.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to give up the life I’ve built just to make you happy,” he said, beginning to walk back to the dance hall. Jennifer grabbed his wrist and dug her nails into his skin.

“If you think I’m not going to decimate you for this, you’re sorely mistaken,” she snarled.

Andrew laughed. “I know you, Jenny. And I know all your tricks.” He opened the door and took a step back inside. And then he hesitated.

“Tell you what. Since we both did some bad shit, if you get caught, I’ll give myself up too. Drop Max and everything. How ‘bout that?”

She raised an eyebrow and sneered. “Sure. But I’m going to hold you to it. I don’t believe for a second you’re going to do it on your own.”

“That’s my Gem!” He laughed. “Bring it on.” And with that, he shut the door and strode off.

#writing #my writing #📖 the detective and the crook 🖋#✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖

4 notes · View notes

onceuponastory · 3 years

Text

Coming Back Home - Chapter Six: The Only Exception

And up until now I had sworn to myself That I'm content with loneliness Because none of it was ever worth the risk But you are the only exception

the only exception: paramore

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable…until her sister asks her to show Nick around town…a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? (based on prompt by @orphicodysseywrites)

Tag List: @shinydixon, @baker151910 and @thesundrop. Let me know if you want to be added!

Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol, death, abandonment and another panic attack.

Note: Happy Valentine’s Day weekend my loves! I know it’s Valentine’s tomorrow, but I’m working, so wanted to get this out today. This chapter is LOOOOONG, so enjoy ;)

Read the other parts / Read this story on Wattpad!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

Y/N’s POV

“I’ll help her deal with this. Don’t want any issues, like last time.” I give Nick a knowing look, making him laugh. Leaving the room, and walking towards the front door, I expect to see a member of the groom party or the florist standing there, looking sheepish. But when I approach the door, I don’t recognise the person standing there. Katie looks over at me, her face pale and her eyes wide.

“Y/N....” She begins.

“Y/N!” The man smiles, cutting her off. He looks at me expectantly. “What, don’t you recognise me?” He asks. Frowning, I step closer, ready to tell him that I really don’t know who he is, and I’m sorry, but he has to....I stop my train of thought the second I see his eyes. My eyes. The same coloured and shaped eyes stare back at me. My heart almost drops out of my chest. It can’t be...can it?

“D...Dad?” I stammer. His face lights up immediately, confirming my worst fears. “Oh my GOD!” I exclaim, moving closer to stand beside Katie. Protectively, I grab her hand, squeezing onto it tightly. I can’t believe he’s here. I feel like if I close my eyes and pinch myself, I’ll wake up from this nightmare. But I try it a few times, and everytime I open my eyes, he’s still there. Part of me knows I’m being dramatic, and should just stop...but what would you do if the man who abandoned you weeks after your mother died and barely had anything to do with you our your sister came back into your life? I can hear the noise of Adam and Nick walking up to us and speaking to our Dad, but most of their discussion is blocked out. All I can hear is the word “daughters”. Daughters. He has no right to call us his daughters, especially after abandoning us.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Katie asks. He looks at us like we’re stupid for even asking him that.

“Don’t be silly! I’m here to attend your wedding!” He grins, making me confused.

“But you told me that you didn’t-” I begin, but he walks into the house and starts walking up to us before I can even finish my sentence. Protectively, I tighten my grip on Katie’s hand. “No, Dad, you can’t just walk in-” I try to say again, but he ignores me, and comes closer towards us. I open my mouth again, but he cuts me off.

“God, you look so much like your mother Y/N.” He smiles. Jane’s words echo in my head as he says it. I wish people would stop saying that to me. I didn’t even remember my mother that well. The only memory I have of her is her dying, then my Dad abandoning us soon after. Maybe that’s why he left. Because I look too much like my mom. He reaches out to touch my face, and I instinctively step back, uncomfortable with him being anywhere near me, let alone touching my face. He frowns, but instead of saying anything, he looks over at Katie. “So, Katie.” He grins, staring down at us. “What do you say? How about a hug for your old man?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I whisper.

“Um...” Katie’s silent for a moment, before removing her hand from my grasp and slowly walking into our Dad’s embrace. “There you are. My beautiful daughter. My beautiful bride.” He smiles, pulling her close into a hug. My heart twists at that. This is what Katie deserved her whole life...and what I deserved too. I don’t even register Nick moving closer and standing beside me until I hear:

“You okay?” He whispers. I nod. To be honest, i wasn’t sure if I was okay. Part of me was hopeful that our Dad coming back would mean a change of heart, and a new beginning for us...but another part was worried he’d leave us again, and we’d be right back to square one. After all, he may be a piece of shit who abandoned us...but he was still our Dad. And even though I had known for a long time that it was worthless trying to get him to pay attention to us, or to show us love and support...part of me was still a little kid who wanted her Dad. My Dad pulls away from Katie and looks at me.

“Is it worth me asking for a hug?” He asks. I blink, surprised. “You know Y/N, you were quite rude to me on the phone a few weeks ago. I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I? I do care.” He almost hisses the last two words out, in a clear attempt to make me feel bad for my choice of words and accusations. Katie looks horrified. Our Dad plasters on a smile again, and turns back to Katie. “So, darling. Ready for me to give you away in a few days?” Katie’s face flushes.

“Um, you see Dad, the thing is......” She begins, her voice shaking with nerves. Adam steps closer and wraps his arm around her. Protectiveness washes over me again.

“I’m doing it.” I reply, stopping Katie from saying another word. Our Dad’s eyes go wide, and he splutters.

“What? You?”

“Yes Dad. Me. I’m giving her away, and dancing with her at the wedding.” Our Dad is silent for a moment, then he starts laughing.

“Well, you won’t need to do that anymore. That’s the father of the bride’s job, and I’m here now, so you can go back to...whatever the hell it is that you’re doing.” I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, Katie steps in, her voice stronger.

“No. No Dad, I want Y/N to do it. She’s been in my life the longest, and I want her.” She gives me a reassuring smile. She takes a deep breath. “You can still come to the wedding, I’m sure we can find you a seat somewhere...but I want my sister to give me away.” Our Dad starts sighing and shaking his head.

“I knew this would happen.” He states. “I knew your Grandmother would turn you both against me. That bitch never fucking liked me.”

“I wonder why!” I say before I can stop myself. The anger of the last twenty one years that’s been building up within me is clearly spilling over. “Gee, maybe it’s because you gave us up two weeks after her daughter died! And you just dumped us on her doorstep!”

“That’s not fair. It was hard work looking after you both on my own.” He argues back, pointing at me. “I did the best thing for you both by bringing you here. I did it because I cared about you two.”

“That might be true, but that’s not how I remember it.” I reply, having no idea where this new confidence is coming from. “I remember you telling Nana that ‘this shithole’ was the best place for us, and saying you didn’t care what happened to us after that. Also there’s the fact that you didn’t bother to contact us after that. So please, don’t act like you care about us all of a sudden.” My Dad steps closer, and Nick protectively moves closer to me.

“How dare you. I gave you birthday and Christmas presents!” My Dad responds.

“Yeah! On the wrong days!” I step closer to him.

“No, just-” Nick starts, but I continue regardless. I get closer, so close I can almost smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Tell me, Dad.” I begin, hissing the word Dad. “When’s my birthday? When’s Katie’s?” He’s silent, and I cock my head, trying to ignore the pain of the fact that my Dad really doesn’t care about us. “Oh, was that too hard? Let me ask some more. Maybe they’ll be easier. What’s my favourite colour? What did Katie study at college? What did I study? Where do I live?” He doesn’t respond to any of them, and I laugh sarcastically. “And there it is everyone! The father who claims to love and care about his children, but doesn’t know a single thing about them!” I lean in closer to his face, slowly turning angrier. “Don’t you dare call our Nana a bitch when she did more for us than you ever did. She didn’t poison us against you, we realised for ourselves that you’re an asshole who never cared about us. We may be related to you by blood, but we are not your daughters.” I hiss. He’s silent, and I feel Nick gently pulling me back towards him. He protectively steps in front of me, slightly shielding me with his body just incase my Dad tries anything. My Dad finally speaks.

Nick’s POV

“See, this is the reason why I left you two. You’re so....dramatic Y/N. It’s annoying. And I guess I was wrong. It wasn’t your Grandma who poisoned you against me...it was you!” He points at Y/N. "You’ve ruined my relationship with my daughter. I can’t believe you’d be so...spiteful!”

“But...I’m your daughter too.” Y/N states, her voice quieter and shaky. I look over at her. Her face looks crushed, just like it did when we both had our argument. Anger grows within, and I step forward. I hate seeing Y/N like that, especially because it was my fault the first time. But now, I could help her.

“Don’t talk to her like that.” I order.

“Nick, don’t-” Y/N begins, but her father stops her.

“And who do you think you are?” He asks. He steps closer, and I can smell the beer on his breath.

“A friend of your daughters. But, given what Y/N’s told me, and what we’ve just heard, I think calling you a father is a bit of a stretch.” I reply. Rage grows on the man’s face even more. “By the way, in case you’ve forgotten, Mr Father of the Year, your daughters were four and two when you abandoned them here. I hardly think that’s their fault, don’t you?” The man scoffs.

“Listen, buddy. You don’t know anything about this situation, so butt out.”

“No, actually. I know a lot about this situation, and I actually care about your daughters and their wellbeing, which is more than I can say about you, who’s blaming a four year old for why she and her sister were abandoned by you, and why they resent you for that.” Katie moves to stand beside Y/N, and wraps her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Adam stands beside me, helping to protect the girls from their father. “And on that note, despite everything you did to them, both Y/N and Katie still had the decency to ask if you were coming to the wedding, which is more decency than you deserve. And you have the nerve to accuse Y/N of trying to ruin her sister’s life and relationship with you? All she’s done throughout her life is try to make her sister happy. And that includes inviting you, when she had no idea if you’d even show up. If you had stuck around, you would know how good a person she is.” Their Dad scoffs again.

“And why do you care so much?”

“Because I care about your daughter. A lot, actually.” I say, not even caring if this destroys my friendship with Y/N, or if she doesn’t like me back in that way. “I’ve only known her for about three weeks, and I already know what a beautiful person she is, both inside and out. If you can’t see that, then that’s your problem.” I feel someone squeezing my hand from behind me, and I turn back around to see Y/N staring at me, her eyes glistening with tears...but still looking grateful.

“Thank you.” She mouths at me, and my heart swells. Even if she doesn’t like me back, that feeling is more than enough.

Y/N’s POV

Hearing Nick standing up for me makes my heart sing, and I almost start crying. The smile he gives me sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“Anyway, why don’t we hear what Katie has to say?” Nick continues, and I give her hand another squeeze. She replies, her voice a lot more confident.

“Dad, Y/N has been with me for as long as I can remember, and Nick’s right. All she’s ever wanted to do is make sure I’m happy. And I still want her to give me away. We’ll find a place for you to sit, but this is my decision.” She looks over at me, a big smile on her face. “And I choose my sister.” My heart swells all over again, and a few tears fall down my face. “But I’d love to have you at my wedding, Dad.” She smiles.

“I can’t believe this.” Our Dad scoffs, shaking his head. “The only reason why I came here was to give you away, and you won’t even let me have that?” He asks. “God, it wasn’t even worth coming here.”

“No, Dad wait-” Katie begins, her voice sounding sadder. My heart rate rises. He’s going to leave us again. I know it. “You can still come to the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding, it-”

“Don’t you get it? If I’ll just be a guest then I don’t want to come to the rehearsal dinner! Or to the wedding. If you don’t want me to do my job as the father of the bride, there’s no point me even being there, is there?!”

“But you said....” Katie trails off, her eyes filling with tears. My anger rises.

“Are you serious? So you’re going to leave us? Again? Just like that? Just because you won’t get the attention you will as father of the bride?” I ask, feeling tears begin to stream down my face. I was being abandoned. Again. But before I can even say anything else, or before our Dad can respond, Katie lets out an anguished cry, and she runs upstairs. I look back at the stairs, then back at my Dad. Part of me wants to argue, to tell him to go to hell and to never call himself our Dad again, but like Katie did....I choose my sister. “Katie! Katie, wait!” I call, running upstairs after her. Once I reach the landing, I look around, trying to see what room she’s in. But her sniffling soon draws me towards my bedroom. I open the door to see my sister curled up in my bed, her back to me. “Katie?” I ask softly, sitting beside her at the end of the bed. It breaks my heart to see her like this. This was the one thing I didn’t want to happen. But me phoning our Dad probably caused this. And now he had left us. Again. My heart was shattering all over again. “Katie?” I ask again, Katie moves aside wordlessly. Once I’m in bed beside her, she turns to face me, her face streaked with tears. Before I can even do anything, she lunges forward and pulls me into a hug. She bursts into tears, and as soon as she does, I start crying too.

“I’m sorry...I just couldn’t...I-” She stammers, gasping for air slightly.

“Don’t be silly. You don’t have anything to apologise for. This whole thing is my fault.” I reply through my tears. Katie pulls away, and frowns at me. “I’m the one who called him, so that’ll be why he came here. And he’s right...what if it was my fault that he left us the first time? And now it’s my fault he’s gone again, and that he won’t be here for your wedding.” I sniff. “I’m so sorry Katie.” I cry. “I’ve ruined everything for you.”

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault. I meant it. You’ve been here for me, ever since we were kids. Actually...” She sniffles again. “Remember when you beat up the bullies for me in the school playground?” She asks. A memory flashes into my mind. Some kids in my year had found out about our parents, and had made it their life’s mission to tease us. I tried not to let it bother me, but Katie had it the worst. She was so young, she couldn’t defend herself...which is why I shoved them over and punched them...as hard as seven year old me could, that is. “I thought it was so cool, my big sister standing up for me like that.” She continues.

“Yeah well...Nana didn’t think it was that cool.” I am immediately reminded of sitting beside my Nana in the Principal’s office, being lectured on how to behave, and how even though they may have provoked it, I had no right to fight back like that. “I mean, I fought hard in my defence. And maybe Nana did agree...she just never told me.” I chuckle slightly, and even Katie giggles too. “And then there was those times when you used to crawl into bed with me when you had nightmares, instead of Nana.” I remember.

“Nana was scary! Could you blame me?” She laughs. “Actually...it was like this. You, cuddling with me in your bed and singing to me or telling stories before I fell asleep. You used to tell me stories of two princesses who would finally get their happy ending.”

“Wonder who they are.” Katie smiles.

“Well, you were right. I’ve finally found my happy ending.” She looks back up at me. “Y/N. I know you think this whole thing was your fault, but trust me. It is not. You’ve been more like a mother to me than a big sister all my life, and I love you so much. You could’ve just ignored me or pretended that I didn’t exist, but you didn’t. You’ve cared for me all this time, and you still are caring for me. So, thank you.” She pulls me back into a hug, and the tears start flowing again. “It just sucks that he won’t be there. That he doesn’t care.” She sniffles, and I start crying again. She’s right. Having your Dad abandon you again does suck.

“I know. I’m sorry. But Adam, Nick and I will be beside you every step of the way. We love you so, so much.” I reassure her. The two of us lay in each other’s arms for a while, neither wanting to leave the other alone.

~~~

Sometime later

The door opens, and Katie and I look over to see Adam and Nick standing there. Katie moves out of my embrace, and runs to Adam, who leads her out of the room, presumably towards their room. Nick sits on the bed as I sit up. “Is he gone?” I ask. Sighing, Nick nods, and I start crying again. “He’s left me again.” I gasp between tears, feeling my heart rate rising as my anxiety and abandonment issues kick in again, combined with the stress and the emotions from earlier. “He’s abandoned me. Again. He doesn’t want me anymore” I gasp, feeling myself starting to hyperventilate. “Nick, what if he’s right...w-what if it’s my fault? What if he left me because I look too much like my Mom? What if I was too much of a bad kid? I always wondered if it was my fault. Maybe it was.” I ask myself, speaking quickly. Nick moves closer to me.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s not your fault. It’s his.” He tells me.

“Please...don’t leave me....” I beg through my tears. “Please...don’t leave me alone. I can’t lose you too.”

“I won’t leave you.” He tells me. “I’m here. It’s okay. You won’t lose me. Breathe with me, okay? In and out.” He holds out his hands in case I want to take them, and I take them both as I try to regulate my breathing. Nick stays with me, holding my hands and helping with my breathing until I calm down.

“I’m sorry Nick.” I sniff. “I’m sorry I’m so...messed up.”

“Y/N. It’s okay. You’re not messed up. I told you. I care about you.” He smiles, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.

“I just can’t believe he doesn’t even know anything about Katie or I...that he doesn’t even care.” Nick sits with me as I let out all my emotions, continuing to hold my hands, cheer me up and hug me when I need it. After I feel like I’ve calmed down properly...or as much as I could, Nick lays beside me, and lets my head rest on his chest. We lay together in silence for a while. Well, it’s not exactly silence. I can hear the sound of Nick’s heartbeat, and the sound of the birds chirping outside. But it’s nice. I can smell the scent of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body as I rest my head on his chest, and the movement of his chest as he breathes in and out. It helps to ground me and calm me even more. Even though I had no idea of how long we’ve been lying here, I don’t care. In all honesty, I could keep laying there for the rest of my life. It’s comforting, and in a way...it feels like home. Like where I’m meant to be. My feelings for him, and my talk with Katie from a few days ago flash back into my mind. And with it, comes Nick telling my Dad about how much he cares about me. Did he really mean it? Like...in that way? “Nick?” I ask.

“Mhm?”

“When you said you cared about me earlier...did you mean it?” I ask. He looks down at me.

“Of course I did. You’re such a wonderful person Y/N, it’s hard not to care about you after spending time with you.” A smile spreads on my face. Should I tell him how I feel about him? I look up into his blue eyes, and my heart answers the question for me almost immediately.

“Nick. Can I tell you something?” I ask. He nods. “The other day I...I um realised something.” My anxiety kicks in again, and I’m worried that he won’t feel the same. But it’s been weighing on me for so long...I just have to tell him. “I...Um. I think...” I take a breath to steel myself. “IthinkIhaveacrushonyou!” The words are all strung together at once, and Nick frowns, blinking at me as he tries to understand what I said. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly. He’s clearly understood. “I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, and please don’t feel obligated to feel the same. Especially after today. I won’t feel bad. I just-I just had to let it out! You’re just so-” Nick cuts me off by gently running his fingers down my cheek and jaw line. Without saying anything, he leans closer, and delicately kisses me on the lips. It feels like time stops in that moment. At first, I’m so in shock I don’t even respond, and Nick pulls back from me slightly, waiting to see what I’ll say. Instead of responding with words, my hands wrap around his shoulders, my hands tangling in his shirt, and his go around my waist as I kiss him back passionately. My heart starts pounding again...but in a good way. It feels really nice to finally be kissing Nick, like this is how things are meant to be. Also, ever since the first time we almost kissed, part of me has been hoping for this...and now it was finally here. And it’s better than I ever could have imagined. Thank god we’re laying in my bed, because if he had kissed me like that standing up, I probably would have fainted from how weak my knees feel right now. Nick pulls away from me, part of my lipgloss smeared on his lips.

“I’m so glad you said that.” He whispers, his voice husky. “I’ve felt the same about you for the past two weeks.” I smile, and my heart feels like it’s doing backflips.

“Then please don’t stop kissing me.” I whisper back, and Nick quickly returns his lips to mine.

Maybe I’ll get my happy ending after all.

A/N: In case you’re wondering, YES. this fic will be continued. I’m still going to show the wedding :)

#nick x reader #the broken hearts gallery #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery fanfic #nick fanfiction #nick fanfic #nick x y/n #dacre montgomery #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery fic #fanfiction #fanfic

18 notes · View notes

ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

(Un)Requited - I.L. I

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Part 1 | Next

Word-count: 1.5k+

A/N: so i don’t have an uploud schedule for this series yet but i wanted to post something teen wolf related since i was a flake and didn’t have the next part of So Close written. happy reading!!

Isaac Lahey had known you his whole life. The two of you had been going to the same schools and sharing at least one class a day almost as long as he could remember. Plus, until they split high school, your older brother and Camden were best friends, which meant Isaac got to spend plenty of time with you outside of school as a byproduct.

Until his dad's drinking got worse and it started being too difficult for Isaac to spend time with you without his dad somehow messing it up. All those cancelled and postponed plans added up and soon enough it was high school and the two of you had just drifted apart.

So, understandably, one of the last things he ever expected after a shitty day of Coach yelling at him and getting detention for something that wasn't entirely his fault was for you to tap him on his shoulder while Isaac dug through his locker to find the one assignment that he knew he actually finished on time.

“Uh, hi,” you smiled awkwardly when he turned around. God, he must’ve looked like a wreck if he was making you this nervous to speak to him. “I’m not really sure how to say this.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, straightening up and trying to seem a little more put together. If he could come across as a little less unhinged while he was at it, that would have been great but Isaac wasn't going to hold his breath.

“Kinda?” You looked down at your shoes and laughed before looking back up at him and pushing some hair out of your face in the process. “I hear that you’re acing Algebra II and, coincidentally, I happen to be failing Algebra II. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind tutoring me sometime?”

“You want me to tutor you?” Isaac asked. If you came to him because you thought he was smart, that question might have blown any chance he had, so he added - as quickly as he could - “Uh, yeah, I could tutor you.”

“Isaac, you’re a lifesaver,” you said, visibly relaxing and sending him another smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he said. After a beat of awkward silence where he was sure you could hear his heart beating in his chest, he asked, “So should I, um, give you my number or something?”

“Oh, yeah, that would probably help,” you laughed. “Got a pen?”

Swinging his backpack around to his front and trying not to take you stepping backwards personally, Isaac fumbled for a pen. He handed it to you with an awkward smile, and you reached for it with one hand while taking his in your other. You clicked the pen and leaned over to write your number on the back of his hand while Isaac tried not to have a panic attack.

“There,” you said with a smile as you handed him back the pen and, sadly, let go of his hand. “Now you won’t lose it.”

“Great,” Isaac smiled. It felt like he was holding eye contact for too long, so he looked away in an effort to concentrate on replacing his pen inside his backpack. “So I’ll text you later?”

“Better yet, you can call me,” you said. And he must have looked like an idiot when you did, because the next thing he knew you were laughing. Except it wasn’t malicious. It was like you were sharing a private joke.

“Yeah, uh- I can do that,” Isaac said, trying to play it cool. As if that ship hadn't already sailed ...

“Then it’s a date.”

You shot him one last smile before turning on your heel and walking away, and it took him a minute to catch his breath again. Not even a five-minute conversation with you and his childhood crush was back in full-force.

“Any reason why you look like someone just kicked your favorite puppy?” Erica asked.

Isaac wasn’t sure when she showed up or how long he'd been staring down an empty hallway, but - if he was honest - he didn’t really care. Looking over at her with an incredulous smile, he said, "I think I’m a math tutor now.”

“Oh yikes. At least you're pretty good with that stuff,” Erica said with a slight nod at the end. “Anyway, are we still on for lunch or are you now fully booked, Mr. Tutor?"

“You know, I think I can pencil you in,” Isaac said.

“Gee, how sweet of you.”

---

Isaac couldn’t prove that you were actively trying to kill him, but the anxiety you gave him about calling you was damn near certain proof. The day had come and gone, with all its teenage angst and supernatural drama, and now he was all by himself in the loft. Alone. Without any super-hearing friends to eavesdrop. On paper, it was the perfect time to call and probably his only clear shot at trying.

But surely he should wait more than a day? That’s what they do in the movies, right? Play hard to get. But Isaac wasn’t hard to get. All you had to do was ask nicely and he’d probably do anything you said. Hell, you didn’t even have to ask nicely. You could step on him and he'd still-

But you did ask him nicely. To call you, he meant. You said he should call you. And your number was already starting to fade … Isaac took a breath, stopped pacing, and picked up his phone. He dialed the smudged number on his hand and waited for an answer.

“Hey, Y/N?” His voice came out too loud and too forceful when the dial tones stopped. Or did he seem excited? Isaac couldn’t tell, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. “It’s Isaac.”

“I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to call,” you said. Good thing he didn’t wait a few days, then. “Hey, I’m kidding. Don’t worry about it.”

“How do you know if I’m worrying about it?” Isaac asked.

“How do you know if I’m really kidding?” you asked. Your voice sounded teasing enough but Isaac wasn’t sure he was in the clear until he heard you laugh on the other end of the line.

Isaac could almost imagine you sitting on your bed, twirling one of those old phone cords around your finger as you spoke. But that couldn’t happen. (For a number of reasons but mainly because this wasn’t the 90s and you weren’t in love with him.)

“Hey, you still there?” you asked in a quieter voice.

“Uh, yeah,” Isaac said quickly as he started pacing again. “Sorry, just got distracted.”

“Happens to the best of us,” you said with an imaginary shrug.

“So I thought about the tutoring thing,” Isaac said slowly, not knowing what else to say. “And I’m free on Tuesdays, if you want. I’ve got a free period that we could use.”

“Yeah, that would be great!” He could hear you smiling as you spoke.

“Yeah?” Why was he double-checking? This was what he wanted. “It’s fifth period.”

“And I’ve got Algebra II in sixth,” you said. “Works perfect for me.”

“That’s great.”

Isaac felt the corners of his mouth turn up and his heart beat faster. Thank God the others weren’t here to hear that.

“Yeah, uh-” you took a breath and Isaac's heart stopped. “This is the awkward part: How much do you want me to pay you?”

His mouth turned down again. “Pay me?”

“You know, for your time. There’s gotta be better things to do than tutor me, right?”

Isaac wanted to tell you that no, there was absolutely nothing better to do during his Tuesday free period than spend it with you. But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “What if you helped me with something else?”

“Well, what do you need?” There was a lilt to your voice. You were interested. The only problem was that Isaac had no idea what he needed your help with.

“Uh …” He was stalling. If he didn’t say something soon, you’d think he was weird. “Well, the dance is coming up.”

“Yeah?”

“And I want to impress this girl.”

“And you need me to …?”

“Teach me how to impress her?”

It sounded like a question, mostly because it was a question. Was it the right response? Isaac didn’t even know if you still took dance classes. You did when you were like seven, but everyone does stuff at seven that they don’t do at seventeen.

“Oh,” you said. There was movement on your side that he could only hear because the line was so quiet. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

It worked?

“Great!” He sounded too excited again. Shifting back to his normal voice, Isaac added, “Okay, so tutoring in exchange for life coaching?”

“Sounds perfect.” You didn’t sound so playful anymore. Did he mess something up? Probably. “I guess I’ll see you at school then.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I guess.”

“Bye.” Neither of you hung up. “And Isaac?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to spend time with you again.”

And then you hung up.

It was official: You were definitely trying to kill him. But Isaac didn’t seem to mind.

Part 2

Tagged: @ietss

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #teen wolf #(un)requited

152 notes · View notes

clnriswood · 4 years

Photo

ARCHIE ANDREWS X READER

Big Little Town: Part One

Story synopsis: The once young reader used to be best friends with Archie Andrews before her abrupt move from Riverdale following her father’s unexplained passing. Now, years later, she returns to finish high school, only to discover that the young boy she’d once had a crush on is both her neighbor, and a not-so-young boy anymore. Together they re-kindle their friendship (and something more) and uncover the truth behind her father’s death and the return of his killer to Riverdale.

a/n: I’m so so excited to embark on this probably eight part journey! I really hope you’ll stick around for a fic packed with angst and mystery, haha! Please do tell me in the replies if you’d like to be added to a tag list! I’ll be updating as soon as possible. <3

It’d been years since she’d set foot in Riverdale. Despite her departure five years ago, the small town hadn’t changed a bit, and apparently neither had the near constant grey cloud cover. It seemed picturesque how quaint yet familiar everything was. The leafy viridescent trees that lined the streets, the tips of the fresh grass that peered out between the cracks in the sidewalks, and the Columbian style houses with their neat lawns and creaky stairs, one set of which the girl currently lurched across. She held a large brown box in her hands; within it were stuffed photographs, candle holders, and whatever other miscellaneous items her mother could cram inside them. As she made her way through the bright red front door, the smell of old wood and must went shooting through her lungs.

“Gee, who lived here before?” she said aloud as her mother followed close behind, setting a box down and staring into the abandoned space.

“A little family,” her mother shrugged, “the Coopers, I think?”

The girl shrugged and blew a piece of hair from her mouth, her muddy converse bringing tracks with her as she roamed the desolate soon-to-be living room.

“Doesn’t sound familiar,” she voiced loudly, seeing how much echo would feed back to her ears.

“They had a girl your age,” her mother continued, adding, “you’re mudding up my floors, honey.”

The girl stopped in her tracks and stared down at her feet, scraping them awkwardly on the edge of the cobblestone fireplace to rid herself of some dirt.

“Betty,” her mother finished. “Her name was Betty.”

“Knock knock!” an airy voice came instantaneously.

The two looked up in surprise, confusion crossing their features as they stared at the girl in the doorway. She had smooth blonde hair that was slicked into a neat ponytail, and her blue eyes were like giant ocean orbs against her pale skin. She wore a pink knit sweater against a white collared shirt, like something out of some horse girl catalogue.

“I’m Betty, actually,” the girl laughed shyly, procuring a bag with the familiar Pop’s Diner logo on it.

The girl raised her brows with surprise, “hi Betty.”

“I heard you guys were moving in today so I thought I’d bring some ‘welcome to Riverdale’ donuts to, you know, say hello,” she continued with a bubbly tone.

The girl, feeling awkward, hung her mouth open, able to only respond again, “hi.”

Her mother hit the girl lightly against the chest with a scoff of embarrassment. She stepped forward and extended a hand to Betty, exchanging the sweet treats for a polite handshake.

“This is my daughter, (Y/N),” she said, “she’ll be starting at Riverdale High soon!”

(Y/N) grumbled quietly to herself, clearly not thrilled at the idea.

“That’s great,” Betty beamed, “I can’t wait to see a new face around!”

“Oh, we actually lived here a few years ago,” the girl’s mother explained. “But we moved away when-”

The words seemed to stop there, getting stuck to her throat like glue. Betty’s blue eyes widened with confusion, so the girl took a nervous step forward and quickly swooped in for her mother.

“We moved away a few towns over, but Riverdale never stopped being home, so we came back in time for my senior year and my mom’s new job.”

“Oh,” Betty’s shoulders relaxed, her ponytail swinging to the side, “that’s great.”

“Yeah,” the girl forced a smile back at her new acquaintance.

“So, is it just you two then, if you don’t mind me asking?” Betty asked.

“Yeah,” the girl took another step, holding her mother’s arm and giving it a light squeeze, “my dad passed away a few years ago.”

Betty seemed weirdly unphased, saying, “mine too.”

“Oh?” she perked up.

“Yeah,” Betty said, more flat now, her blonde brows knitting at the thought of something that troubled her. Then, realizing she’d fallen silent, she beamed again, her glossy pink lips splitting. “It was really nice meeting you both! And (Y/N), I uh, left my phone number on the bag, if you ever want to talk.”

The gesture warmed the girl’s heart, and she smiled, for real this time, seeing the black ink scribbled on the paper.

“Thank you,” her and her mother voiced in unison.

“Of course,” she giggled, “see you soon, I hope.”

As Betty turned, her cute shoes tapping the old floorboards and her ponytail swinging, she waved at someone who was outside. Her voice drifted along behind her as she greeted the girl’s unknown neighbors with a bounce in her step.

“Hey!” she called.

A muffled male voice called back, but despite its, well, muffled-ness, something in it sounded familiar.

“I’ll see you at Pop’s later?!” Betty said from the top of the moss covered stairs, her head turned towards someone that was out of view.

Again, a male voice chortled back a positive reply. This time it sounded even more familiar, and the girl felt a weird tingle in her stomach, unable to place its speaker. But she didn’t have to think very hard about it, for Betty turned, giving her, and her neighbor, one last wave.

“Bye (Y/N), bye Archie!” she said before turning and skipping down the steps.

“Archie?” the girl repeated cluelessly.

And then, practically as the name rolled off her tongue, her heart lurched from up in her chest to down into the floor. Her mother’s eyes widened as they came to a mutual realization, and before the girl could even process the idea, her mother was wagging a finger at her with this huge knowing grin.

“Archie Andrews, that boy you liked in middle school, Archie Andrews?” she smiled wider, going in for one her annoying tickles and sending the girl stumbling backwards.

“Nuh uh,” the girl retorted, turning her head away to hide the visible red that was flooding through her face, “I know plenty of other Archie’s.”

“Ok, name one,” her mother challenged, hands moving to her hips in a very mom like way.

“Archie-” the girl started confidently, but her brain immediately short circuited, “-Andrews, OH MY GOD!” she covered her mouth with her hands and went running to the staircase, her mother yelling indistinguishable mockeries up at her as the girl went bounding up the carpeted stairs two at a time until she reached her white bedroom door. Her hands grabbed the brass handle, turned, and slammed the door behind her with such force that the empty room rattled around her.

Back before she left Riverdale, the red headed boy from her year had been practically the only friend she’d had. Being the weird introvert with the recently deceased father didn’t exactly help her case, making it all the more strange when the popular soon-to-be-jock decided to start trailing by her between classes and in the courtyard, usually followed closely behind by a highly optimistic blonde in a ponytail.

“Betty,” the girl realized, slamming her hands into her forehead when the pieces came together.

Pre-pubescent Archie Andrews was just about as middle school fantasy as it could get for a girl. He had these skinny arms and flashing white teeth, and oh my god did the fiery hair make a statement, the girl recalled. He used to force her to catch footballs with him at lunch, so, in exchange, she’d make him listen to her guitar playing after school while they waited for their parents to arrive. It was a blossoming but short lived friendship, for the death of (Y/N)’s father was followed shortly by her departure from the small town and its small town redhead. But the thought, the actual thought that he was less than sixty seconds from her at this moment, sent a combined panic and excitement through her, one so strong she felt she could throw up. The last time she’d seen Archie was before the summer of eighth grade, when she’d left without telling him she was actually going. Giving the sudden life altering change she was going through, the last thing she could handle was officially departing from the boy she liked. And so she waved at him from her mother’s car, the poor redhead totally oblivious it’d be goodbye forever as he waved back from the sidewalk, clutching the guitar she’d thrust goodbye into his hands.

And now he was right there, right across her window and through to his, she thought, raising her head in despair and feeling her throat tighten at once. Because, sure enough, he was literally right there. Archie was standing upright in his little room, and he was staring directly at the girl with a look of mingled confusion and shock written over his large brown eyes. Except it wasn’t actually Archie, she thought, unable to think a single coherent thought as her gaze fixated on the absolutely jaw dropping man that stood a few dozen feet from her. No, skinny little Archie was not this tall, muscular, sharp jawed creature who wore tight fitting tees that clung to his bronzed god-like chest. No way that was Archie that stood frozen like a mirror image to her. But that hair. That hair. There was absolutely no denying that those fiery locks could belong to anyone but him. These thoughts all took about three second to travel through the girl’s mind, and by the third, she did the only thing she could think of and dropped to the floor.

“Oh my god!” she squealed into the flowery carpet, her nose squashed against it uncomfortably.

“What the hell am I doing?!” she spoke to the floor like it would reply.

Obviously he’d seen her drop dead to the ground, but now that she was here she couldn’t exactly get back up, so she took the only acceptable alternative and just lay there like an idiot. If she waited long enough he was bound to get sick of waiting, right? Feeling her phone buzz against her thigh, she reached her nimble fingers into the back of her jean pocket and procured her phone.

new instagram notification: @archiebandrews has started following you.

“NO!” she screamed at her phone, so loudly there was no doubt Archie himself could hear it from his room.

Archie Andrews would like to send you a message.

This was it. This is how she was going to die.

[ Archie is typing… ]

(Y/N), I know you’re still there.

[ Archie is typing… ]

That floor hasn’t been washed in months.

The girl practically spat the carpet from her mouth, her hair getting tangled as she rolled up from the ground. Feeling like her body was on fire from the blaze in her cheeks, she dragged herself up, crossing her fingers that the boy couldn’t see her rosy flushed face from where he stood. He was closer to his window now, clearly his intrigue had brought him slowly forward. Seeing her rise from the floor like a pathetic phoenix would from the ashes, his brows lifted with a keen curiosity, and he found himself stepping closer yet, so he could get a better look at her. Feeling as though she might as well do the same, the girl approached the dirty glass frame nervously, stopping when her muddy converse touched the walls. Archie Andrews wore dark blue jeans and a loosely tucked white tee that curved around the unfamiliar ripples of his chest. His auburn hair was parted kind of in the middle and kind of to the side, framing his high cheekbones and square jaw handsomely. Some of his red locks fled from the neat array of others, one in particular falling across his forehead and curling attractively upon his defined brows. Everything about him was so different and just so, endearing; even the curvature of his rounded pink lips into their inquisitive half smile. And just as she studied him, he’d studied back.

The last time he’d seen the girl she’d had braces and choppy hair, the result of her hacking relentlessly away at it following her father’s sudden and mysterious passing. She hadn’t grown much height wise, but certainly everything else had. Her long straightened hair lay flat against the curvatures of her now rounded out chest, her cheekbones rested higher on her face in such a way that she possessed an attractive maturity, and her brows and collarbones had a matching sharpness to them that defined her features well. She wore tight fitting light wash jeans, torn patchily at the knees from her own falls, and a black tank top, matched with a chunky black belt similar to the one Archie himself wore around his sturdy hips.

It was...bizarre. It was like they were just recognizable enough to each other to be unmistakable, but also grown enough that it seemed they were like strangers.

It was Archie who finally, after what felt like years but in reality was a few seconds, withdrew his phone. The red headed boy stared intently at his screen, typing away quickly and sending a buzz into the girl’s palm. Broken from her daze, she lifted her phone, seeing on it his invitation to join him and his friends at Pop’s in the evening. She lifted her gaze to the auburn haired boy next door, letting out a long and heavy sigh. Honestly, she’d just gotten here and she wasn’t too good at the socializing thing, but it was impossible to resist those glittering brown eyes. Seeing the doubt playing through her mind, Archie tucked his phone back into his jeans, fingers lingering in his pockets as he softened his expression further.

The boy tilted his head sweetly, mouthing “please?”

The girl’s heart seemed to pound so hard she could feel it smacking around her own chest, and so she nodded reluctantly, parting her lips to say yes but instead finding them hung partially open. And then he cracked that smile, that disgustingly perfect smile with the sharp canines and massive dimples, and she knew: it really was him.

#archie andrews x reader #archie andrews fic #archie andrews imagine #riverdale x reader #riverdale imagine #archie andrews #archie andrews fanfic #riverdale fanfic #betty cooper x reader #betty cooper fanfic #fanfic #writing #imagines #archie x reader #archie fanfiction #riverdale one shot #riverdale fanfiction

174 notes · View notes