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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 4 months

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Gossip: knight!price x princess!reader

The joust had been such a horrible mistake and you were paying the consequences, even if it was your mother’s idea.

The fact that your mother had started up another round of trying to find you a suitor added to a growing anxiety that hadn’t left you since you turned of age to get married. It made everything harder; your studies, your mood and everything else suffered and on top of it the joust added more to it.

You didn’t care for any of the lords who had competed that day, especially the one who had practically begged you for a gift that you felt pressured into it. Neither of them were particularly good men, you knew how much they jumped around from woman to woman from your ladies in waiting, and they only sought after you because you were a princess.

They didn’t like anything about you, saw you only as a pet or a prize to win to make themselves look better because they didn’t know you.

They would never know you so they would much rather beat on each other in the name of winning you over, when you would never watch it willingly.

“The captain is back to training today.” You heard your ladies in waiting behind you and you frowned. “I havent seen him in action yet.”

That was another reason why the joust had caused issues.

For the past week Sir John Price had been the talk of the court. He was the best knight in the kingdom, everyone knew it, but he had never performed in front of others, only fought in battles. His performance brought an uproar of affection towards him but you couldn’t see it.

What good was senseless violence? Especially in the name to impress you, as if you wanted to see people hurt each other for your entertainment.

You wanted to be impressed but you just couldn’t. It looked bad on him, the violence for sport rather than need, it was beneath him in your opinion.

He was much more refined than that. Much more chivalrous and mature, which is why you couldn’t hold your tongue.

Barbaric may have been a little harsh but you didn’t like to see him act in such a manner.

For some reason you didn’t want him to be like everyone else, you wanted him to be different.

“He trains the other knights so well.” Another lady swooned and you rolled your eyes.

You couldn’t escape him, not when you wanted to leave the castle to find alone time and now when he was gone. It was like he was tormenting you without him being here.

“And he’s incredibly disciplined.” One do your ladies in waiting, Katherine, said and you clenched your jaw.

Katherine was one of your closest friends so you knew that she was fond of your knight for a couple months now. She was beautiful and very high in nobility but she was well within the range that Sir John could marry her if he was interested in that.

They could be wed as soon as they both deemed it the right time, if he showed interest, and they’d be the most beautiful couple in the court.

The thought made your chest oddly tighten.

“Katherine, if Sir John were to propose to you tomorrow, would you accept?” You wondered and she immediately became flustered.

“Well…I think I’d ask him to court me first but I wouldn’t say no.” She explained and you hummed.

Would she say that if she knew him as well as you did? If she spent so many hours of her day with him as he stubbornly refused to give you space or become irritated when you teased him too much?

It shouldn’t matter to you. If they wanted to be together, they should be together. It wasn’t like you could marry a knight and it wasn’t like you wanted Sir John Price specifically.

Yet the thought…the thought hurt.

“You should speak to him soon, then.” You suggested with poise.

“Your highness, you flatter me.” She laughed and you smiled. “He’s married to his sword and his oath to you, to get in the way of that would be a disservice to the crown.”

“I implore you to please take him off my hands.”

You all laughed together and tried your best to ignore the rest of the conversation about him until you parted ways with the ladies.

For once you managed to get into the garden by yourself and though the idea of running into the nearby forest crossed your mind you didn’t moved from your spot in front of the pond.

Your mind was plagued with problems. The Queen’s pressure for you to get married, the countless suitors who treated you like an object, your lack of freedom, the weight of the crown and the country on your shoulders, the fact that your mother had told you she was the one going to choose your next suitor with or without your input.

Your life had never been in your hands but now it was being played with by everyone else.

And now the added grief of Sir John Price being married? Why did it bother you so much…?

“Should I be worried you’re still here?” Price’s voice caught your attention.

“Worry if you must, I’m just thinking.” You told him absentmindedly without looking at him.

He was worried. He had noticed the entire week that you had been more quiet and reflective than usual. He noticed the way your brow was constantly knitted and the way, despite the many years of practiced etiquette, you digested with your hands.

You were anxious and stressed, and while you were able to hide it from everyone else, he saw it. He had a few thoughts about what it may be but he never voiced it.

“You and Lady Katherine,” you said and he raised an eyebrow.

“What about her?” He wondered and you eyed him carefully.

“Tell me what you think of her.”

Price have you a confused look. He didn’t think about her, not really. Of course he was polite to her and had spoken to her on many occasions but it was never anything he would call personal.

Was she becoming an issue? Did he need to step in on behalf of the crown?

“Not much.” He said truthfully and regretfully that gave you some relief. “Is everything alright between the two of you, your highness?”

“Oh yes, everything’s fine.”

You hoped that your friend would find a better man to pine over, one that would be interested in her and treat her fairly.

It cleared your mind a little mc the fact that he wasn’t interested and you were able to focus yourself better. You took a deep breath and composed yourself.

“I won’t be needing you much for the rest of the day, I’ll be in library.” You told him and he gave you a look.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” He shot back and your eyes narrowed.

“I am not in the mood for your scrutiny, take it elsewhere.”

You walked away from him without letting him argue further because you were going to spend the rest of your day in the library.

Who would ever see anything in a man like him?

A/n: had to balance it out with jealous reader lol

@deadbranch @makayla-666

#knight!price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #call of duty #captain john price #princess!reader

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lust4life01 · 28 days

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literally anything with donnie is fine! just wanted to tell you how much i love your writing too!! :)

Awe thank you sm qt!! I whole heartedly appreciate that, it means so much to me💘 This is a little rushed <3

Baby, Sit.

(Not my image!!). 18+

Warnings!!- Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, dom x sub, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, slight chocking, possession and teasing.

Dom Donnie x f/reader

(Donnie and reader are both 18!) Disclaimer/ this is purely fantasy, if somebody is cruel to you irl it does not mean they like you, they’re scum :)

Summary: You were hired by Rose and Eddie Darko to baby sit for their youngest child Samantha, little did you know you would be sitting for some else.

Being an eighteen year old student, you were painfully broke, so when your mother had referred you to her friend to baby sit, you immediately accepted.

When your mother had told you the name of the woman who’s child you would be looking after you felt a wave of anxiety rush through you.

Rose Darko. As in the parent of Donnie Darko.

You and Donnie had been in the same school, you were the same age. And unfortunately you couldn’t stand him and vice versa. There was something about the pair of you that didn’t work. He was always so uptight and had to be right about everything, it was infuriating. There was one main factor that contributed to the continuous clash between the two of you, which was the fact you dated his best friend up until pretty recently. You hadn’t seen Donnie since then considering you had no reason to be around each other anymore but the thought of seeing him again made you want to scream into a pillow.

Whenever you two would be in the same vicinity he would just straight up ignore your presence or when he did acknowledge you he would be blunt and snappy. You had no idea why but this lead to a lot of animosity between the two of you.

So when your mother had told you you would be babysitting for Samantha Darko you immediately wanted to call up Rose and tell her you wouldn’t be able to do it. However you were pretty broke and you assured yourself you probably wouldn’t see Donnie, not if there was no one to baby sit his younger sister. Plus what was you supposed to tell her? Sorry I can’t watch your child that I’ve already agreed to watch because your son hates me? Yeah no.

———————————————————-

“Hey (y,n) yeah we’ll be gone for a couple hours but we left some money for pizza.” Mrs Darko told you as you stood in their kitchen.

You already knew Samantha from when she would bug Donnie at school and run up to the friend group. She was a sweet kid and she liked you well enough so that definitely eased your nerves.

“Okay great, does Samantha need to be in bed by a specific time.” You asked sweetly, knowing full well you’d probably let her stay up regardless.

“Um nope just not too late and by the time we get home. Oh and she has homework to do.”

Rose sterling looked at Samatha as a warning.

“Boringgg.” Samantha protested whilst stood directly by your side.

“Okay well we’ll see you later, have fun” Eddie spoke as they made their way out of the door.

Rose returned and popped her head into the door before leaving .

“Oh (y,n) I’m sure Donnie will be glad to see you again.” She smiled and quickly left before you could even form a response.

Your mind paced. Was Donnie supposed to be here? Why did they need a babysitter then? Did they know you two used to be in the same friendship group? Had he mentioned you? Was it negative? Did he express how much he hated you? Would you actually see him again?

“Can you paint my nails?” Samantha snapped you from your spiral of anxious thoughts.

You turned to her and smiled. “Of course”

You had painted her nails, watched her dance rehearsals and told her how good she was, ordered pizza and now you were helping her with her homework.

She had to write about the character of Pony boy Curtis from ‘The Outsider’ by S.E Hinton.

You had loved studying this book when you was her age and literature in general. So it was absolutely no bother helping her complete her assignment.

“Well, he’s obviously very different and unique to the other characters which can be inferred through-“

You were cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Pizza, thank God!” Samantha cried out holding her hands together.

Laughing at her childhood silliness you walked over and opened the front door with cash in your hand, your stomach very exited to finally eat.

However, you were not laughing when you opened the door to someone that was not the pizza delivery man. In fact you no longer felt hunger but complete nausea. Instead a tallish guy with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stood on the other side. Donnie.

You didn’t say anything, just moved to the side to let him through. He didn’t say anything either. Simply walked past as if you weren’t there, the smell of cigarettes trailing behind him.

“Ugh it’s just my stupid brother, not pizza” Samantha whined.

Donnie pulled a face at her as he made his way through the house.

“Hey Sam, when she goes home tonight, Freddie Kruger is gonna craw out from under your bed.” He teased through a creeping voice, obviously trying to upset her.

Samantha in her upset state, Freddie Kruger clearly being a touchy subject, yelled out whist nearly in tears

“SHUT UP DONNIE, NO HE WONT!”

He then made his way over to her homework and scoffed, picking up her copy of The Outsiders and mumbled “mediocre.”

He then proceeded upstairs, leaving the minute he’d managed to make someone else feel bad. Typical.

You rolled your eyes at his cruelty. Of course she wouldn’t be reading fucking Dostoevsky at her age.

Remembered what it was like being in an English class with Donnie gave you a headache. He had great ideas but god forbidden you had an opposing idea. He would scoff and roll his eyes. It drove you crazy. He wasn’t always like that thought, at one point he used to encourage your ideas and even swap notes with you.

You were cut from your thoughts once again when the door bell went again, fortunately this time the pizza man was the one on the other side.

Sam ate some pizza, you no longer felt hungry but you did eventually managed to calm Sam down. The pair of you just chatted about whatever she wanted. She was telling you about some childish drama in her friendship group and you nodded your head pretending like it wasn’t the funniest shit you’d ever heard. Childhood drama is always hilarious when you’re no longer a child.

Despite being distracted by Sam, you kept thinking about the boy upstairs. “Do you think your brothers eaten?”

Sam shrugged her shoulders “who cares?” annoyance laced in her voice at the mention of her older brother.

You said nothing and proceeded with her homework.

Once she had finally finished she was ready to sleep. Her expression exhausted and she yawned after almost every word of her sentence.

“I’m- not even like- that- tired.”

You giggled at her before telling her she should probably head up to bed but you did promise to braid her hair first.

“Thanks for keeping me company (y,n), you were always my favourite out of Donnie’s friends” she smiled and hugged you at the bottom of the staircase.

The word ‘friend’ lingered for a while in your head. It was true, you were friendly at a time. It sucked because he felt good to be around for a time.

You stayed downstairs as she marched off to bed, whispered a sweet “goodnight” as she made her way to bed.

There was still around an hour and a half until Eddie and Rose were supposed to be home and you hadn’t seen anything of Donnie since he had come home. It was weird, you felt like you hated him but you also wanted to be around him. You especially wanted to know why he hated you. A part of you hoped that maybe he’d go back to his old self but instead you pushed him into the back of your mind and stared to clean up a little.

Once you had cleared up you sat onto the couch and grabbed a book from your bag and stared to read. You only had a few chapters left so decided to try and finish them tonight.

You were so drawn into the book that you didn’t realise a familiar figure loomed behind you. Donnie stood behind the couch reading over your shoulder. After a couple second of you not noticing his presence, he leaned down to your ear.

“Good choice.”

You jumped and your head snapped round to Donnie, almost slapping him out of instinct as a small yelp slipped past your lips.

“What the fuck Donnie. I could have woken up your sister. What’s wrong with you?”

His face was close to yours, and a small smile crept onto his face as he watched your second of distress. “Hello to you too (y,n)”

“Why are you being so friendly? Thought you couldn’t stand me?” You asked with your brows furrowed and your tone daring. You weren’t even with his stupid friend anymore so you had no clue why he was still such a dick.

“I’ve never said that.”

His answer was short and blunt but he had that smug grin on his face. Not one that radiated happiness or flirtation but something else. Power maybe? Like a wolf who had corned a bunny and laughed hysterically as it tried to escape.

You didn’t try to escape from him though. You kept your eyes locked onto his, not daring to dart your eyes away as a sign of weakness.

“You didn’t have to.”

He however did not have any snarky remarks in response. Instead he made his way round to the spot on the couch next to you and snatched the book from your hands.

“Ah 1984. George Orwell. You know when I tried to explain to your small minded boyfriend. Oh no. Ex-boyfriend, the concept of this book it was exhausting.” He rolled his eyes dramatically with that mean playful look on his face.

Why on earth was he doing this? Mentioning your ex boyfriend, calling his own friend small minded, even speaking to you. You racked your brain on why he was doing this. Sure you had known he hated you but that usually manifested itself through his lack of interest in engaging with you or his need to argue with everything you ever said. Now it was like he was taunting you by giving you this almost flirtatious, slightly sadistic attention. It was so odd but so hypnotising.

“But then again, I never did understand why he was with someone like you.”

You couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult. Someone like you? What exactly did that entail.

“What are doing Donnie?”

Your brows were furrowed slightly and your eyes a little sad, completely fed up of trying to work out his cruel ways, or even justify them to yourself.

You and Donnie had been somewhat friends before you started dating his best friend, but as soon as you did he became a new person. When you’d occasionally chat in the library about whatever book you were studying he’d always smile or when you’d catch each other on the way home and he’d be a little awkward but totally engaged with whatever you were saying, it was nice. That all came to a stop when his friend had started to pay you attention. You thought maybe Donnie felt as though you’d stolen his best friend and for that you did truly feel sorry.

You were now face to face in the dimly light room. Just a lamp illuminated the two faces.

“What were you doing (y,n)?”

He was no longer smug but he had caught and attitude with you. There something underlying in this anger in his voice. A deep irritation sat on his tongue.

“What do you want me to say Donnie? Sorry I didn’t live up to the expectation of being your friends dream girl, or sorry that you felt abandoned by him?

He shook his head and let out a hysterical laugh. As if your words were a pathetic joke.

“Ugh (y,n) I honestly thought you were smarter than this. I didn’t give a fuck about losing ‘crucial friend time’” He mocked.

“It frustrated me that someone as smart as you would even consider giving someone like that your time of day. Someone who you couldn’t converse with about anything slightly philosophical or opinions on a new book or poetry, because ‘books are useless, or ‘metaphors are stupid’. Mimicking his best friends voice as he spoke.

You said nothing. You were speechless and your brain hurt from trying to work him out. You just thought to yourself after his little outburst. Then it hit you. Was this jealousy?

“Why do you care so much Donnie? It’s not like I could talk about poetry or a new fucking book with you. You wouldn’t even talk to me.”

You snapped back, testing him. Was he truly jealous of not you, but your ex?

You were both still face to face. Inches away from each other.

“Only after you climbed into bed with someone who didn’t deserve you.” His voice was assertive and filled with envy yet his voice was low.

The realisation on how close you two had gotten finally hit the both of you. You were staring at him with your lips slightly parted and a slight confusion brushed your features. Why did you find this hot? God, you told yourself this was wrong but the sound of jealousy in his voice made your chest heave with excitement.

The sound of your heart beat was loud, it felt as though your heart had been placed to your ear. His lips were so close to yours. But you were upset, with another overwhelming feeling aching in your chest. Lust?

His eyes were still fixed on yours. “It should have been my bed you were climbing in.”

He brought his fingers up to your jaw possessively.

The two big black holes that had replaced his usual pupils drew you in. His eyes trailed down to your slightly parted lips. There was a part of you that wanted to cry and shout at him for being such a dick, but you couldn’t. It was like you had been hypnotised. Or maybe you’d just awoken from the trance you’d been under. This complete and utter blindness towards Donnie’s feeling towards you, or yours for him.

Amongst your silence he crashed his lips to yours. The kiss was hard and desperate. He pushed his tongue past your lips and you let a small moan slip. His hands cupped either side of your jaw as his teeth sank into your bottom lip.

A small hiss left your lips at the sharp pain that send a shock through your body. Donnie’s hand trailed down from your jaw to neck and his hand slowly snaked it’s way around to your throat. He added a little pressure, not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you feel everything more intensely whilst his other hand brought some hair behind your ear.

He pulled away from the kiss, keeping his hand exactly as they were and just admired the mess of emotions plastered along your face. Anger, confusion, fear and lust. To him you looked like a beautiful oil painting, so many different things happening at once and he got to be the observer. The artist even, controlling what you felt next.

“Donnie” You whispered.

“Shh baby. I’ve got you now.” There was an element of comfort in his voice but mainly possession. A wider grin played on his face as he said those words, violently bringing his lips to yours once again.

The feeling of his long fingers inching closer up skirt and thighs made you want to cry out and tell him exactly where to touch you. But you didn’t.

The slight pressure from his veiny hand wrapped around your neck and the near brushes to your clit through your underwear, were getting you so worked up.

“Donnie, please.” you whispered against his lips, your voice quiet and needy.

He practically growled in response “Oh now you want me? Such a slut.”

As you whimpered underneath his tough he chucked into your ear. “Bet he couldn’t make you feel this good.”

You came quickly under his palm, your head was a mess. There was so many emotions running through, it was like ecstasy. He was a drug.

“Mhm, good girl. If only you hadn’t been so stupid, could have had this ages ago.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to your lips.

Taking them into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his fingers while he starred at you intently, made him throb hard.

Snatching his fingers from your lips he grabbed your jaw harshly.

“Now be a good girl and sit.” He motioned to the spot on the floor between his legs. “Cmon baby, sit.”

You obligated, desperate to hear him feel good. Desperate to win his approval by being the cause of his pleasure.

Sat on your knees in between his thighs, he sat on the couch and wiped the mess from the corners of your mouth with his hand. The same hand in which his fingers had been inside you.

Reaching for his zipper, his hand caught your wrist tightly as he peered down at you.

“Did I say you can touch me?” From your angle he looked so much bigger than he was.

You huffed out a small whine, “Please can I touch you Donnie. Please?” You looked up at him with doe eyes, it used to work on him when you wanted him to do something for you. Usually homework. And it did.

He now brought his lips in between his teeth, admiring how pretty you looked on your knees.

He nodded his head and you quickly undid his zipper and brought his jeans down to his ankles.

The hard erection confined to his underwear made your mouth melt. You kissed him over his tight underwear and he groaned quietly.

Staring up at him innocently, he nodded his head, giving you permission to take off his underwear. Immediately you pulled down his underwear and grab him by his base.

You licked him from his hard base to his red tip and started to kitten lick around the top of his cock.

Donnie breathed heavily and grabbed your hair into a make shift pony tail roughly.

“Stop teasing (y,n) or I swear-“

The warning was enough for you to cut him off by taking him into your mouth suddenly. You bobbed your head and licked his veins as his grip on your hair got tighter.

“Fuck. Gonna cum soon. Look at me.”

He pushed you onto his dick deeper, it violently hitting the back of your throat as your eyes watered.

The sight sent him over the edge, shooting his cum down your throat as you swallowed submissively.

He let go of your hair and offered his hands to help you up, once again wiping away the mess he’d made from your lips with his finger.

“It was nice to see you again (y,n).”

(Not proof read) 🙏

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal smut #donnie darko #donnie darko smut #slight enemies to lovers #babysitting

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louellaby · 6 months

Text

FORGET-ME-NOT

REPLACED!MC AU

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W A R N I N G

May contain bad grammar, limited vocabulary, and OOC characters. Please mind that English is not my first language, and it takes a lot of courage for me to post due to my anxiety and paranoia.

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taglist: @books-and-catears @owl778 @yourlocalgrass @kaiserkisser @hhurric4ne @amberheavendremurr @yu-ulda @bk-4-trash-fire

E P I L O G U E

「 I'm Right Here! 」

"Y-You're not really going to k-k-k... m-me, are you? I know you won't...! Y-You are all a bunch of sweethearts, after all, and you're all just messing with me right now! Y-You can't do this to me...!"

"Have you forgotten, Lady Soley? They're demons. And with one command from me, you'd be gone."

In the Devildom, the lives of the demons continued on as usual. The streets were bustling with noise, the shops full of customers, the forests as quiet as they have ever been, and the servants of the castle were all busy preparing for an upcoming festival which should bring more cheer to the realm. But in that particular castle, a man sighed deeply as he eyed the paper that slowly crumpled in his grasp.

"That's the 16th sigh this minute, Lucifer," Diavolo lightly chuckled as he watched his friend with an apologetic look. The prince knew what Lucifer was extremely bothered with.

It had already been four weeks since school ended. Everyone should be on vacation, including Lucifer and Diavolo, but they couldn't stay away from this specific problem. Why? Because it was the case of their failed human exchange student, Soley Day, who was thought to have disappeared months ago during their trip. That's right, no one outside the group knew what really happened to her. It's all a big secret.

"What are we going to do about this, Diavolo?" Lucifer sighed once more before dropping the paper on the table and leaning back on his chair. He tried to soothe his headache by rubbing his temples, hanging his head to the back. "I'm supposed to be on a trip with my family, and you told me two months ago that you would handle this on your own."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need your help on this one. I thought I could handle it, but it turns out this is a bigger problem that we hoped for, considering everyone's wondering where Soley has disappeared to. It has become a huge headache."

"Yeah, I can feel that." Lucifer sat up straight again and looked at his friend. "Does the Celestial Realm have a problem with this as well?"

Diavolo shook his head, "No. For reasons unknown to me, they left this one alone. The only problem now lies in Soley's family."

"I see, so that's what's bothering you. Despite their title, they're still just humans, Diavolo. It would be easy to deceive them."

"... Do you really think that that's the only way left to go?" The prince got bothered by Lucifer's reason. He knew Lucifer was getting impatient that he'd suggest something like this, but... is that really what it has come to? Deceiving humans who he wanted to gain the trust of?

A lot of time has passed. Eventually, even Diavolo understood how irritable Lucifer has become, the more the paperwork kept piling on and on. And so, the Avatar of Pride was dismissed for the day.

"You know, it's rare for you to admit you want to spend time with your family," teased Diavolo, enjoying the sight of Lucifer's face turning red as the man got up from his seat.

"My family is important to me, Diavolo. Every single one of those seven; they're all important to me. That will never change." Lucifer left the room, hurrying back home where seven people were waiting in chaos for him to return.

"Family, huh..?"

"Mother! Father! I'm back!" A certain girl with light orange hair and lime green eyes exclaimed, excitedly running out of a limousine and rushing into the arms of her awaiting parents.

"Soley! Welcome home! We were so worried about you! So, so worried!"

"I told you you didn't have to worry so much. I'm fine and in one piece." The girl then looked towards the man who stood behind her parents. "Heath!" She ran past the couple and jumped into the man's arms; an action that surprised both the man and the couple, along with the other servants surrounding them.

It was the first time in a very long while that their young lady showed any closeness or emotion towards her butler. While most were happy about this unexpected development, some were suspicious. Nevertheless, everyone was happy with the events, and her parents were so proud of her.

Little did anyone know, a translucent figure with tears in her eyes was watching them up close.

"Mother! Father! Heath! That's not me! Everyone! Listen to me! I'm right here!"

Despite her constant shouting, her unbearable protests, her desperate efforts in making them notice her; not one of them reacted to her presence. Every time she tried to touch any of them, her hand went through their bodies as if they were made of air; but it was, in fact, her own figure that was the problem.

"Come, Soley, we prepared a party for your return. All of your friends are here, and they can't wait to see you!"

"Alright, I'm coming, but after the party, can we have our own time together? You know, as a family?"

Once again, everyone around them was taken aback. Even the invisible form of her, who cringed at the suggestion.

Everyone knew Soley wasn't one to spend time with her parents anymore. Not since she grew up and had her own friends that she called her family. Because of the surprise, Soley's parents hugged the girl with tears in their eyes. They were so happy to hear that their precious daughter wanted to be with them again that they didn't even question anything. The ghost just watched it happen; her claws digging into her arms and her biting her lip in frustration.

"How dare that fake steal all the attention meant for me... I refuse to take this!"

That day had been a difficult one for the young lady. She watched in pain as her impostor lived the life that was meant to be hers. She did her best trying to get just anyone to notice her. Most painfully, she watched as the fake walked through the halls of the place she called home, with the man she held closest to her heart.

"Heath, I have a question."

"Yes, my lady?"

The two of them were in Soley's room. Heath was helping the lady prepare for the grand party happening later that day.

"What would you do if someone confessed their romantic feelings for you?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. You're not doing this to me."

The butler dropped the brush he was holding, freezing in place as he locked eyes through the mirror with the girl in front of him. "I, uhm, I-I beg your pardon?"

"If someone confessed to you, what would you do?"

"Heath, don't answer that!"

The more the questions popped up, the wider Heath's eyes went. His brows furrowed. He suspected everything would've been a joke, but the look in Soley's eyes told him they weren't. And so, putting his heart on his sleeve, he opened his mouth in response.

"I suppose it would depend on my own feelings as well, my lady."

"What do you mean?"

"I will be happy and accept the confession of the person if I also feel the same way for them as they do for me."

"But if you don't, then..."

"Then, no, I'm afraid."

The lady sitting in front of the mirror removed her gaze from Heath and placed it on another. Soley's ghost gasped in surprise when she realised her impostor was staring directly at her, a smirk on her face forming before she opened her mouth and spoke to the butler again, her eyes not looking away from the spirit.

"What about me?"

"... my lady?"

Soley got off the chair and approached the butler, who stood still in confusion. She reached out and held both of his hands in hers, longingly staring at his eyes.

"What if I tell you, Heath, that I have feelings for you? Would you accept them?"

"My Lady, I—"

"Don't worry about your job, Heath. It's secure, and I'll keep it that way no matter your answer. I just want to know how you feel about me."

"No, please. Don't do this to me...! Y-You can't take Heath away from me, ple—"

"I..." The butler paused for a moment. And at that moment, all of his precious memories with his lady rushed through his head, displaying themselves one-by-one.

Heath stared into Soley's eyes just as she had hoped he would. His breathing quickened the more he realised the weight of the situation. But that was a moment he had always been waiting for. The moment he thought would never come. Not even in a million years.

"... I love you, Soley."

"What do you suppose happened to Soley's soul up in the human world?"

"Everything went according to plan, Young Master. Lady Soley had seen her life taken away from her, including the one she felt romantic feelings for. She is currently on a breakdown as we speak."

"What about MC?"

"MC is doing better than before. Their bond with the brothers has deepened greatly."

"Good. Perfect. ..... It's time to find a new exchange student. This time, let's hope they won't be as troublesome as the previous one. And even if they are, we can count on MC to handle it."

"Of course, my Lord. I will prepare the papers."

The moment the Seven Rulers of the Underworld and their human master returned from their family vacation, they were met with stacks and stacks of papers with information about new candidates for the exchange program. As the prince and his butler expected, a tsunami of complaints and disagreements washed over them. After a long while of discussions, everyone agreed to close the exchange program temporarily until they could find the perfect students for it.

Little did they know, a human sorcerer was watching them from his crystal ball in the human world. The moment his deep blue eyes glowed, a piece of paper appeared in his hands. He studied its contents for a moment before placing it in an envelope, a smile appearing on his face as he held the letter out towards the white raven that rested on its perch.

"Deliver this to the prince of the Devildom. Tell him I'm interested in his so-called exchange program."

"Your wish is my command, Lord Ceowald."

「 LOUE'S LETTER | THE END.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Loue's Note:

Whether you've been here since the beginning, or you've just stumbled upon this story recently, I thank you so, so much for taking the time to read this! Thank you for the ones who supported me all the way (you know who you are) ! I'm really grateful for the wonderful reactions I've received! ♡♡♡

Forget-Me-Not has reached its end; but just as one story ends, another one begins. I hope you look forward to my next replaced mc au!

I give you lots of hugs and wish you the sweetest of dreams whenever you fall asleep.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

#Forget-Me-Not #obey me #obey me angst #obey me shall we date #obey me replaced mc au #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

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rafecameronscockwarmer · 1 year

Text

THE KNIFE I TURN WITHIN MYSELF (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

writers note:

hi okaaaay so this is my very first fic im new to the community and a little nervous so bear with me! i used to write a lot mostly when i was a kid but i haven’t in years and i haven’t written anything like this ever, but i love to write and am currently obsessed with rafe cameron and obx so i thought id give it a try and just started writing lol. i have literally never ever written smut before so if it’s cringy i apologize in advance! this isn’t a one shot i kinda maybe wanted to write a series if u guys liked it and would maybe want one? ANYWAYS it’s super angsty im not even gonna lie and definitely a darker fic so if you aren’t comfortable with that this probably isn’t the fic for you! please enjoy ✨

Words: 5.8K (it's lengthy I'm sorry lol)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON at times, STEPCEST (sorry lol), drug abuse/self harm, depression, smut eventually!!!! 18+ ONLY PLEASE

Summary: Kildare’s Kook Princess is forced to return home to the Outer Banks for the first time in two years since abruptly leaving for college. Unable to hold yourself together any longer, you’re forced to come face to face with the home and family you left behind and the boy you so desperately tried to forget.

It had been two years since you had last stepped foot on the island you once called home, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease in your stomach as you waited for the ferry to dock. You left for California the summer after you graduated, making UCLA your new home, with plans on never looking back. You used every excuse you could to avoid coming home to the Outer Banks, but most importantly, back to Tannyhill. If it wasn’t for Rose, your mother, threatening to cut you off financially unless you came home for the summer, you wouldn’t have. The Outer Banks simply held far too many painful memories for you, and the idea of being home for an entire summer made you want to hurl the contents of your stomach over the side of the boat into the pristine blue sea.

You picked at your fingers anxiously, a nervous habit you picked up as a kid, whenever you were stressed, as you waited for the ferry to arrive on the island. You broke the habit once you moved out to California, substituting self-mutilation for a certain white powder that you were already all too familiar with due to your stepbrother Rafe’s problem with it. The irony was not lost on you, as you descended down the rabbit hole of the Los Angeles lifestyle, eventually becoming a female carbon copy of the exact person you had been running from. He was who you dreaded seeing the most, the very reason for your departure from the island and why you refused to come home. Your family, of course, blissfully unaware of the true reason for your self-imposed exile, believing you when you lied to them about being too busy with school and work to visit. It wasn’t like you didn’t miss your family or friends, but you knew that the best thing for you was to be far away from the island that loomed before you. He had a habit of clouding your judgment, something you needed no help with as you were already prone to making shitty decisions on your own.

You walked off the ferry in search of your ride, praying that Ward and Rose hadn’t sent him to pick you up, they weren’t specific in saying who would get you which made your stomach turn in fear of being alone with him even if it was just for a ten minute car ride. You didn’t know if you could survive being in a car with Rafe, let alone back at home with him for three whole months. The anxiety in you started to grow, your comedown hitting you hard as everything you tried to forget over the last two years began to resurface. You looked around the crowd for a familiar face, your shoulders sagging with relief when you didn’t see anyone. Fuck it, you thought to yourself as you turned to get back on the ferry, your brain already coming up with a variety of lame excuses you could use to explain to your parents why you weren’t waiting on the dock and why you would not be coming home, once again.

“Y/N!” You turned around slightly annoyed at being spotted before you could make your escape, but you smiled when you saw Sarah and Wheezie, running over to you with flowers and a “Welcome Home Y/N!” sign in hand. Your heart wrenched with guilt at the sight of your sisters, your eyes welling up the moment they both enveloped you into a hug, almost knocking you down.

“We missed you so much!” Wheezie exclaimed as she took a step back, readjusting her glasses to look up at you, her face lit up with adoration.

“Did you just try to get back on the ferry?” Sarah questioned with a smirk as her initial excitement to see you wore off when she realized what you were trying to do prior to your guys’ reunion. “Gotta be quicker than that, babe.”

You laughed, raising your hands up in defense, “You caught me.” The three of you laughed together as you pulled them both in for another hug. “I missed you both so much! Wheezie, you're almost as tall as me now!”

“Well I am a growing girl. And you would know that if you hadn’t disappeared for the last two years.” She huffed with an eye roll while you put your arm around her shoulder as you three began to make your way to the car. You cringed internally at the jab, but you knew they both had the right to be annoyed with your lack of presence within the family lately.

“I didn’t disappear!”

“No you just moved across the country and never came back, not even to visit once!” Wheezie shot back.

“It’s compl-” You started, your anxiety rising again as you fiddled with your fingers. Sarah looked down, instantly noticing the peeled and raw edges of your cuticles, biting her lip with worry while quickly changing the subject.

“Who cares! You're finally home and ours to torment for the next three months!” Out of all your siblings, you stayed the closest to Sarah. Despite the two year age difference, she was your best friend, unofficial twin ,and the keeper of all your secrets. Well, you thought, most of your secrets.

“While there’s nothing I would love more than to be tormented by you both”, you laughed “I am exhausted from the trip and just wanna lay in my bed right now, lucky for you guys I’ll be here for three months so there will be endless opportunities for you guys to torture me throughout the summer!”

“I’ll let you rest for a bit but there’s a party at the boneyard tonight you HAVE to come! I’ll drag you by your nose piercing if I have to, you’re back home and we need to celebrate properly. With lots of liquor.” Sarah giggled before giving you the look, a simple pout she used to get her away. And it got you. Every single time. “Besides, the pogues are excited to see you! Especially JJ.”

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes while Wheezie wrinkled her nose in disgust at the way Sarah sang JJ’s name.

“Come on,” Sarah whined, “I’m finally old enough to party with you, and what better way to celebrate Kildare’s favorite kook princess return home with a bonfire on the beach?”

“Fine I’ll go! But I am so not Kildare’s favorite kook princess, that would be you”you snorted, as you all got into the car.

“Haven’t you heard? I’ve crossed over to the dark side.” Sarah said, “I’m a pogue now.”

Sarah was always the more free spirit of your siblings, that being one of the reasons that drew you to her when you first met. The Cameron’s were Figure 8 royalty, and with that last name came wealth, and the expectations to be better than everyone else. Especially the pogues. She was the most down to earth girl on your side of the island, a rarity in kook central, where everyone’s favorite pastime was shitting on the less fortunate that resided on the other side of the island. You were born a pogue, a fact about yourself you seem to forget often, having become accustomed to the lavish lifestyle, but you weren’t an elitist snob like the rest of Figure 8.

“Yeah, she’s been hanging out with John B a lot,” Wheezie added from the backseat while Sarah glared at her through the rearview mirror. Wheezie stuck her tongue out in retaliation.

“John B, huh? What happened with Topper?” You teased as the blonde rolled her eyes, causing you to laugh.

“I got bored,” Sarah said as Wheezie spoke simultaneously “She got bored.”

You laughed again because that sounded exactly like her. When she first told you about Topper, you knew it would end this way, Sarah wasn’t the kind of girl that aspired to have the perfect Kook husband, family, and home. No, that was more your dream than hers. You always knew it was a matter of time before her attention would turn to the cut looking for fun. It gave her the freedom Los Angeles gave you.

“Whatever, let’s get you home so you can rest so we can go out and have some fun tonight!”

The reality of your situation began to settle within you, as you looked out the window at the streets of what you once considered home. You wanted to cry but held back tears, not wanting your sisters to know that you really didn’t want to be home. They were so happy to see you, and you missed them so much, it was hard for you to think about how you left them behind and how much they’d grown since you left. You felt like you missed out on so much, but you knew deep down it was your fault. You chose to be gone. Wheezie was right, you all but disappeared.

Sniffling discreetly, you turned your attention back to Sarah, “Who’s all home?”

“Dads out of town, some meeting with investors I guess I don’t know,” Sarah said, “Rose is with the committee finalizing the finishing touches for Midsummers.”

“Oh God, I forgot all about Midsummers,” you groaned at the thought of being surrounded by every single family that resided on Figure 8 and all the pretentious ass kids you went to school with. It was the event of the summer, every summer, and as Ward Cameron’s daughter, your attendance was mandatory. It was the perfect place for him to show off his perfect family to the community and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the idea of pretending to be the perfect nuclear family, when you were very much the opposite.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to center yourself, “What about Rafe?”

“He’s at the club, golfing with Kelce and Top” Sarah said as she rolled her eyes at the mention of Rafe. They were never close, your stepfather’s love for Sarah shined brighter than his love for Rafe. His favoritism was no secret, no matter how much Sarah wanted to deny it, you could see it, everyone could see it. It bothered you, and you knew Rafe resented her for it, which made your heart involuntarily ache every time you thought about it.

“He’s been a real dick lately, ya know, like I don’t know what his problem is.”

“Yeah he’s been acting really weird since he found out you were coming home” Wheezie said, as your heart began to pound erratically at the thought of seeing him again. You couldn’t avoid him forever, especially not when your bedroom was directly across the hall from his. You’ll be okay, you think to yourself, in an attempt to calm yourself down. Just avoid him at all costs, and you’ll be fine, you thought. Easier said than done, but it doesn't hurt to attempt anyway.

“Maybe now that you’re home you can pull the stick out of his ass. He was always nicer when you’re around. You’re like the only one he listens to anyways.” Sarah huffed as she finally pulled up to the long driveway of Tannyhill. She was right, unfortunately as you were always the one to keep Rafe in check, the only one who could pull him out of his episodes when his intrusive thoughts took over and he began to act maniacally. It was you who came to his rescue after every fight he no doubt purposely started, and it was you who cleaned and bandaged his wounds. While you and Sarah were close, you and Rafe were inseparable, or well, used to be before you basically ran away. Your hands start to shake as you gripped your phone tighter, attempting to ground yourself. It’d been too long since your last bump, and that insatiable craving for more coupled with your anxiety had you on edge. You had to get to your room as soon as possible.

“Ugh anyways, enough about Rafe,” Sarah said in disgust as she put the car in park and turned to you, her blue eyes wide and excitement coursing through her veins.

“Welcome home!” Wheezie squealed, poking her head in from the backseat as the car came to a halt. You looked up at Tannyhill, the sprawling mansion intimidating you as your childhood memories all came rushing back, overwhelming you, causing a swirl of butterflies in your lower stomach, that you did your best to ignore. You weakly faked a smile, not wanting them to know that you’d rather be anywhere else in the world than back here. Welcome home, you thought bitterly to yourself with a grimace. Welcome fucking home.

Eleven years ago.

You were nervous, excited, but nervous to finally have a real home and family. Life on the Cut with your mom wasn't bad. You were a lot more fortunate than others living comfortably, but you ached for a real family with siblings and a dad that was actually present. Not long after you turned nine, you were gifted that, when Rose began dating Ward, and not long after that, he proposed to her, moving you both in with him and his three kids at Tannyhill. You liked Sarah the most, even though she was younger than you, Wheezie barely being three at the time, Rafe was a year older than you but had already held such a disdain for pogues which he made perfectly clear every time you two were in the same room with each other.

“Just because your mom is marrying my dad doesn’t make you a kook, you know,” the then ten year old said angrily, looking down upon you with a look of disgust on his face. “Once a pogue, always a pogue.”

You did your best to not let his mean words make you cry, up until then you played the sweet and dutiful daughter and were nothing but nice to Rafe even when he was being downright nasty for no good reason. But if this was your future for the next nine years, you didn’t know if you could handle it.

Finally fed up with his attitude towards you, you looked up, staring into his baby blue eyes, doing your best to look intimidating, “You’re kind of an asshole.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and a slight smirk appeared on his face as he looked you up and down, but he didn’t have the chance to respond.

“Y/N!” You turned around to see your mom stomping towards you, her face lit up with embarrassment, “We do NOT call people assholes. Apologize to Rafe.” Rose chastised.

You scoffed, “He started it!”

“I don’t care who started it, I’m ending it. Apologize, now.” Your mother looked at you expectantly, waiting for you while Rafe stood there looking amused. You wanted to slap that stupid smirk off his face but did your best to restrain yourself.

Sighing dramatically, “I’m sorry that I called you an asshole when you were being an asshole.”

“Y/N!”

Rafe laughed, probably the first genuine one you heard since you met the boy, and as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. You wish he did it often, you thought. For the first time, his eyes didn’t hold any malice in them when he looked down at you, and your anger disappeared as you looked back up at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s going on?” Ward questioned as he entered the room, sensing the tension between his son and future daughter. His steely gaze met with Rafe’s, causing the boy to look down nervously.

“Oh you know, just kids being kids,” your mother reached up to fix the collar of Ward’s shirt, one hand lingering on his chest. “It’s been dealt with.”

“Good.” He looked down at Rafe, with a look on his face you were all too familiar with. You’d seen it on your own dad when he was still around. It was the kind of look that made you want to shrink into nothing because it made you feel like nothing. It was a look that said we’ll discuss this later, behind closed doors. “Rose and Y/N are family now, and I expect them to be treated as such. She’s your sister now Rafe, act like it.”

Rafe scowled at the floor as he mumbled under his breath, “Yes, sir.”

As soon as you made your way into the mansion, you feigned tiredness immediately sprinting up the spiral staircase to your room. You stopped once you made it to the second floor, hesitating to go into your room at first, as your body unconsciously drew yourself outside of Rafe’s bedroom. His door was closed which was no surprise to you, you knew he wasn’t home but you couldn’t stop yourself as you turned the knob and pushed the door open. His room looked the same, nothing had changed since the last time you’d been in there, like two years hadn’t just passed. You couldn’t help yourself as you wandered in and closed the door quickly behind you, your back pressing against the door as you scanned his room with your eyes, unsure of what you were really even looking for. You didn’t know why you were there. Your body moved on autopilot as you moved around the room, refamilizing yourself with the place you spent countless days and nights in. Your fingers lightly brushed along the comforter of his bed, the same way one he had when you were home, knowing that this was the closest thing you’d allow yourself to Rafe. Once upon a time, you were the only one Rafe allowed in his room and now you stood in it once more, feeling like a stranger in the very place that was once your safe haven from the stressors of being a Cameron.

It became too much for you, and you turned to leave abruptly, but not before catching a glimpse of a photo frame on his desk that wasn’t there when you left two years ago. At closer inspection, you gasped when you realized it was you in the picture, well you and Rafe. It was taken at Midsummer’s when you were fifteen and he was sixteen. It was the first time you had a date to the event, instead of just attending with your family. You’d been asked by Alex Fairworth, a senior at Kildare Academy, who also incidentally you had a slight crush on at the time. You were so happy and excited to be able to go with someone as cool as Alex, but ultimately ended up being stood up that night. You spent weeks searching for the perfect dress and shoes just wanting Alex to notice you. You were embarrassed, dreading the idea of walking in alone when you realized he wasn’t going to show up. You weren’t surprised either when you ran into him at the club, a week after Midsummer’s, and had seen his face black and blue. You knew who did it as you smirked at him, silently taunting him for standing you up.

Rafe came to your rescue that night ditching his own date to ensure you didn’t walk in alone. You were grateful but the humiliation still lingered on your face when you walked in with your step brother instead of Alex, as you could already hear the whispers from others about your date or lack thereof. Rafe did your best to distract you that night, never leaving your side, glaring at anyone who dared to side eye you. He stole you both a bottle of champagne and kept you both drunk, laughing throughout the night together as you forgot all about Alex just enjoying the night with him causing chaos at the club.

Your mother had finally tracked you both down, as you had spent the night doing your very best to avoid her and dodge her questions about Alex. You were both scolded for being drunk at Midsummer's but were forced to go take photos of the family together. You remember the look Ward gave Rafe when he realized you were both drunk, as you both attempted to hold it together for photos. This photo was just of you and him, him looking down at you with a smile and while you smiled for the camera. He looked so handsome that night in his powder blue tux, your heart twisting with grief at the framed photo as you remembered the night everything changed.

You took one last look around his room before walking out and closing the door dashing across the hall into your room before you could be spotted leaving Rafe’s. You walked into your room, throwing yourself on the freshly made bed, probably done in preparation for your arrival. You felt all the tears you spent all day holding back finally bubbling back up as you cried quietly into your pillow, your entire body shaking as you sobbed. How were you supposed to handle an entire summer home you thought to yourself, mentally beating yourself up at being this shaken up over just being in his room. You don’t know why you even went in there in the first place, it was the exact opposite of your whole “avoid Rafe at all costs” plan.

“Get a fucking grip, Y/N.” You muttered to yourself as you made your way into your bathroom. You looked in the mirror at yourself, your face was sunken and your Y/E/C eyes were bloodshot. You looked like a shell of your old self, the carefree sparkle in your eyes that once shined so brightly was dead, and you suppose you were just an empty shell of the girl you used to be. You had changed so much, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. You didn’t see it in LA, but you suppose coming home opened your eyes to how you really looked now.

You needed a fix and you needed it now. Something to perk you up even if only temporarily before you started to feel like the dead girl staring back at you in the mirror. You left the bathroom to lock your door, and made a beeline to your purse for a certain small baggie in your wallet. You sighed with relief when you found it but started to panic when you realized how much you had left. You could always hit up Barry, but you didn’t want word getting back to Rafe about your newfound hobby that you picked up in California. Whatever you thought, you could always just give him more money for his silence and you knew Barry’s sleazy ass well enough to know that it would work. You quickly spilled the contents of the bag onto your phone and got to work breaking up the powder into four small white lines. You quickly snorted all of them up, rubbing your nose for any leftover residue.

You felt your heart begin to beat fast as the numbness took over your face, and you exhaled in relief as that familiar buzz invaded your body, relaxing you. You grabbed the bottle of anxiety medication out of your purse, quickly downing two pills as you laid back in bed, feeling your body tingle softly as the drugs took effect while your mind drifted away. Not long after that you finally fell into a deep slumber dreaming in a kaleidoscope of blues, the very same shade belonging to a certain pair of eyes you had spent the last two years forcing yourself to forget.

You awoke a few hours later to a loud banging on your bedroom door as Sarah yelled at you from the other side. “Don’t think you're getting out of going out with me Y/N, get up!”

You groggily opened your eyes and shuffled out of your bed to unlock your bedroom door, the light from the hallway blinding you as you opened the door to see Sarah looking at you with her eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile on her face. She was already ready, having wisely spent the last few hours preparing for the night while you were in a self-induced coma. You rolled your eyes as she barged into your room leading you to your vanity table and forcing you in the seat.

“No offense, but you look like shit,” Sarah started as she stood behind you looking at your reflection in the mirror as you sheepishly avoided making eye contact with her, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, finally meeting her eyes, plastering a smile on your face. “Just tired from everything right now. Between school and work and coming home, it’s a lot you know.” She looked at you for a minute trying to decide whether or not she thought you were lying. She nodded, her face softening as she started to brush your hair. You both sat there in silence as she styled your hair, you relaxing into her touch. You hated lying to her and hated even more that she could always tell when you were, but Sarah respected your boundaries and knew you would come to her when you were ready. You hummed in appreciation as her fingers ran through your hair pulling half of it up and pinning it with a clip.

Sarah placed her arms around your shoulders holding you from behind as you both stared at each other in the mirror, “I really did miss you. I know you said it was complicated and I respect that, but please don’t leave. At least not like that again. I get why you want out and away, you know, more than anyone else in this house at least,” she trailed off for a second, her blue eyes looking glassy, “Just don’t disappear again, please.”

You reached up to place your hand on her arm, and smiled softly, “I won’t, I promise.”

“Good.” she sniffled as she wiped her tears away, she looked at you and smiled seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Now let’s get you ready! JJ’s been asking about you ever since I told him you were coming home.” Sarah smiled smugly, evidently proud of herself.

“Sarah!”

“What? He totally thinks you're hot and I know you think he is too!” She giggled as you began to blush. JJ was cute, very cute in fact and could provide you with the distraction you do desperately needed in order to survive the summer.

You smiled slyly at her, “He is really cute.”

“I knew it!” Sarah squealed as you began to apply your makeup in a pathetic attempt to make yourself look less dead. Thankfully, a little concealer, blush, and a pair of false eyelashes go a long way. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, almost recognizing the girl looking back at you, the girl who Sarah knew, the girl in Rafe’s photo. You shook yourself out of your thoughts, you weren’t her anymore, and you hadn’t been in a long time, even before you left the Outer Banks.

The Boneyard hadn’t changed, and you don’t know why you would have thought it would be any different than when you were the one in high school drinking Mai Tai’s mingling among the crowd of Kooks, Pogues and Tourons that regularly gathered at the beach. To your left stood the Kook’s keeping to their own as usual, you thought as you rolled your eyes, you had never understood the whole Kooks vs Pogues thing on the Island, you thought it was stupid. You made your way down the beach to where a few of the Pogues had gathered around the bonfire, blunts passing as cans clinked and laughter soared through the night’s breeze. Your heart warmed at the sight of your friends, you were always closer to the Pogues even if you were the Kook princess. You were beloved by all, Kook or Pogue it didn’t matter, you radiated light and everyone around you could see that, even when you couldn’t.

Your name was shouted as Kie spotted you first, gaining the attention of JJ, John B, and Pope. They all stood up rushing over to you, Kie pulling you in for a hug with JJ and Pope throwing their arms around the two of you. John B was off to the side hugging Sarah and you smiled at the way he looked at her, you missed that as the dull void in your chest started to ache.

“Welcome back to the OBX princess!” JJ teased, using his favorite nickname for you, “Been wonderin’ when you were gonna bless us all with your presence again.” his gorgeous blue eyes raked your form up and down, while you liked the attention the shaggy blonde boy gave you, his eyes just weren’t the right shade of blue for you.

You laughed, twirling your hair, giggling as you flirted back, “ Awww did you miss me Maybank?”

“Island ain’t the same without you, baby”, He drawled winking as he grinned down at you.

“Well I’m here now,” you said as you stole the cup of alcohol out of his hands, tossing it back savoring the burn of JJ’s favorite concoction, a secret mixture of liquors he deemed “happy juice”. You felt some of the liquid slide down the side of your mouth and dribble down your throat as JJ hungrily eyed your throat, wondering what you tasted like and if you were as sweet as he thought.

“That’s my girl!” He hollered, “We got a lot of lost time to drink for, two years to be specific, let’s get you another drink princess.” You allowed JJ to grab your hand and pull you through the crowd, to the old beer pong table they called the drink station. You knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to drink and let your guard down but you needed it and it had been so long since you had fun with your friends. It could’ve been the coke you snorted before you left when Sarah wasn’t looking talking, but you wanted to get into a little trouble tonight and JJ was the perfect person to get into trouble with.

You were nervous knowing that he could show up at any moment, but you hadn’t seen him earlier when you arrived, your eyes nervously scanning the beach looking for the 6’2’ boy. You felt yourself relax into JJ’s touch as he put his arm around you pulling you into him. Handing you your cup, he walked you back to the pogues as they stood off to the side waiting for you two.

“So Y/N, kudos to getting off the Island, a rare feat for us small folks.” Pope said with a smile. Where JJ was fun to flirt with, Pope was your favorite to talk to, he was smart and amazingly self aware but was also just a really sweet guy in general.

“Yeah, how’s California?” Kie asked as everyone turned to you.

“I heard the waves out there are fuckin awesome.” JJ exclaimed.

“Honestly California’s great, I love LA. And yes the waves are fuckin awesome.” You laughed answering JJ’s question, while he beamed drunkenly at you “I haven’t really had much time to surf lately but there really is nothing like it out there.”

“Is that why you haven’t come back? Forgot all about us pogues?” teased John B, as Sarah looked worriedly at you. You shook your head laughing, silently conveying to her that you were fine, as she relaxed back into John B’s arms. For the first time in a long time you even believed it yourself, you were drunk already, JJ’s happy juice taking effect quickly as you giggled under the stars carelessly with your friends.

“I could never forget about you guys! Once a pogue, always a pogue, there isn’t a place in the world that could change that,” you assured them as they all raised their cup in agreement.

“Hear-hear.” Kie said before sipping her drink causing you to giggle some more. Damn. You were a lot more drunk than you thought.

“I have a gift for you,” JJ said as he reached into his pocket, your interest peaked as your big eyes stared at him expectantly. You weren’t sure what to expect but laughed loudly when he placed a blunt in your hand. “Nothing but the best for our Kook princess.”

You rolled your eyes as you placed the blunt between your lips waiting for JJ to light the blunt for you. It took him a second, as he was distracted by your natural pout and the way your eyes seductively looked up at him. He thought about taking the blunt out of your mouth to kiss you but decided against it. You sat back while taking a hit from the blunt, letting the THC take over your body and mingle with the other substances already flowing through your bloodstream.

For the first time since you had arrived back on the Island, you felt at peace, like nothing had ever changed. You were happy to be home, surrounded by your friends, reunited with your sisters again. You were glad Sarah forced you out, enjoying the moment, soaking it up, blissfully unaware of the fact that it was about to come crumbling down.

You looked around you, taking in the sight of your friends together, the ocean roaring next to you and the carefree sounds of the island’s youth partying together. You smile to yourself, having forgotten about your fears and anxiety, almost forgetting about him entirely and why you had run away in the first place. You looked up across the bonfire entirely by chance, locking eyes with the boy that occupied your mind when you were awake and haunted you when you slept.

Fuck. Rafe.

if you want to be tagged, comment and let me know!! i sincerely hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it<3

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey #obx #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj mayback x reader #sarah cameron x reader #stepbrother!rafe cameron

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likeachampion · 4 months

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I need to ask a question. But before I ask this question I need to add some context. So I’m gonna rant a bit.

Four years ago my dad left our family. More specifically he had an affair and left to be with his mistress and her children. Of course my mum, siblings (I have four siblings) and I were all very heartbroken. One of the last things I heard my dad say was that he had always wanted to leave but felt guilty because we were all so young and that now we were older we did not need him anymore. Now, my sister at the time was living with her partner, my brother and other sister were frequently coming and going and my younger brother locked himself in his room. While I don’t blame them in the slightest this meant that the majority of the time I was left with my mum. And in the beginning it was hard. There would be times that she wouldn’t get out of bed. Times I spent consoling her as she cried. Times when she completely broke down on the ground and other much more dark times when she voiced wanting to die or kill herself. This as I’m sure you can imagine was incredibly painful to witness. I love my mother dearly, we are very close and she has always helped me through my own personal issues. So along with the sadness came anger.

Growing up, especially when I was in high school, I suspected that my dad may have been cheating. There would be times when his phone would come up with messages that clearly was not from my mother. Times when I would be looking for something at his desk and he had left his email open. Times when I would hear him arguing with my mum about someone. However I dismissed these signs as I didn’t want them to be true. I thought to myself that if my mother knew about it (which she did) there must be a reason behind her not saying anything. So I stayed quiet. And acted like normal, although my relationship with my dad became much more strained. Especially since my dad never really… understood me? I’m a highly sensitive and emotional person. I’ve had anxiety and depression since a young age and I continue to struggle with this. And my dad is not an emotional person. He finds it very hard to empathise with people, not to mention his casual racism, sexism and homophobia. As such I’ve had issues with connecting with him.

Anyways, as time went on other things started to come out. I think because my mother had kept it secret for so long occasionally she would burst and tell me things.

Like the time when she and my dad worked at the same company. They were married expecting I believe was my sister (the first child) and my dad was dating another woman in the office. Then shortly after my brother was born my dad left to be with another woman. My mother suffered from postpartum depression. Which she was left to deal with alone with my very young sister and my new born brother. Or the time shortly after I myself was born and my mum and grandfather took us away on a trip. My dad said he had to work. Turns out he had taken his then gf away on holiday. There was also the time my dad gave $40,000 I believe, to a woman he met online. I don’t think I need to tell anyone that it was actually a scam. He told my aunt and grandmother (his sister and mother) that my mum was the one who lost the money (additional note: we are not rich people, we lived in a run down house) that money was saved up to try to fix it.

Long story short my dad has had multiple affairs during his thirty year marriage with my mum. That doesn’t even include the other shitty things he did like try to steal $200,000 out of his mothers account by forging her name. Or the time he tired to punch my mums sister and mother because they rang him during his mother’s birthday lunch because I (a baby) wouldn’t stop crying and they didn’t know what to do. My mums dad literally had to restrain him.

Back to the present. It’s been four years now since my mum and dad got divorced. During this time I did not see my dad. Communication was limited to text. I want to make it clear that I wanted it this way. Like I previously mentioned, along with the sadness came anger, especially the more I learnt about my dad’s actions. This meant a lot of angry texts. But a part of what made me even angrier was the denial. I got lots of I’m sorrys. But no admission that what he did was wrong. There were even times when he told me he didn’t know where all my anger and hurt was coming from. That “it didn’t happen to me” it “had nothing to do with me” it “happened to your mother not you”. My personal favourite was when he told me I was angry because I was unhappy with my own life.

This all came to a head this weekend. It was my brother’s wedding (wooo). My dad brought his gf and her children. Now for most of the night I was able to ignore and avoid both him and her. Until the end. Most people had left and I had had maybe one too many cocktails. I saw her getting up to leave. But I didn’t want her to leave without having told her how I felt. So I did. At least I tried, my rant was cut short by the appearance of my brother which she used to slip away. Then my dad appears asking me what’s wrong. I tell him to never let her appear before me again. To which he replies: that happened four years ago. You need to let it go. He then went on to say I was not the only victim. (Another note: my dad thinks of himself as a victim of a loveless marriage). At this point my brother escorts him out.

I apologised to my brother and his wife. I realise that it was not the time or place to go on a rant and that I shouldn’t have done it. I feel guilt and shame that I did.

Fast forward to the next morning. I wake up to a text from my aunt (my dad’s sister) she tells me that I need to let everything go. That I need to forgive and forget otherwise I will stay a bitter person. She then suggests I see a psychologist.

I reply to my aunt that I have seen many psychologists over my life and no psychologist has ever told me that the path to healing was through forgiveness and forgetfulness. Instead they described how to work through the pain and trauma. By accepting it. By feeling it. By acknowledging it. By talking about it. Something I tried to do multiple times with my dad only to be shut down.

As such, I have for the moment, decided to keep a distance between my dad and I. I personally believe that sometimes the best path forward is for both parties the go their separate ways. Something I told my aunt. She replied that healed people, good people, forgive.

So my question is this. Am I a miserable person because I cannot forgive my dad? Am I a bad person?

While I agree I am not completely healed I am trying to. In the way that I feel is best for me. But my aunt is under the impression that I’ve had enough time to heal.

Is it odd that I still feel anger four years later? That I still feel hurt?

I’m not sure if I’ve explained things clearly but feel free to discuss and ask questions.

I just wanna know if I’m crazy or something

#personal #family #trauma #mental health #cheating #affair #divorce #am i the asshole #aita #depression #anxiety #ask me anything

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mahpaiam · 8 months

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19 August 2023

To be honest, I've tried to avoid any diary entries as I felt my life has been too heavy for me to write down. It feels sometimes like a quick jot or note wouldn't do justice for all the pain that's been endured.

Today, I finished The Idiot by Elif Bautman. The book felt strange to read, like a torturous and mocking reflection of my own life. It follows a young immigrant girl who was born turkish but grew up in america. She goes to Harvard and meets this older mathematics international student. They begin to exchange long winding emails on thoughts of life. A specific analogy I remember is on the idea of atoms. What happens to them when they are excited and utilized in manners of mass destruction, like in a bomb? How are they to return to 'cereal' (reference) after such an excitement? In the book, she compares that to meeting him, how is she supposed to return to the way she was before. He tells her the atom can't after taking such an explosive form and she agrees. It is revealed later he has a girlfriend. That's the strange part for me and I'm so glad I do not feel any familiarity with it. I hope I won't ever. He graduates and goes to Berkeley for graduate school. The summer before, he leaves for Bangkok, Thailand. She's just left behind to think and spend her life.

I felt like this book was a cruel portrayal of what I had endured this summer. It mentions how as she leaves, she feels she has the rights of any human being, to go anywhere she wants. But none of these things would change how he had no connection to her, no plan or reason to ever return to where she was. An untethered goodbye. I hated how similar it was to Bernardo and I. How he was so much older and wiser than me. How he knew so much more and was worldly. How he stares into my soul like Ivan states into Selin's. How he was much smarter academically. How he was going to Berkeley in the fall. The anxiety of wondering when or if I could talk to him. The delayed text and call relationship. How he graduated. How he went off to Thailand. How our goodbye went. How he had no reason to come back to me, other than an empty promise.

I hate how I've been in a one year relationship and got over it in weeks but with this man of literally two weeks, summer has gone by and he's still torturing me. I wonder a lot about if he thinks about me. I know not even close to the extent that I think of him. But I wonder if I'm even in the back of his mind. I wonder if he feels guilty or knows that I've blocked him. He hasn't reached out anyway. It just reminds me of how little I mattered. I really wished I hadn't mattered so little to him.

My sister is home today. We picked her up from the airport and a sense of normalcy feels a bit regained. Tomorrow, I'm planning to take her and my dad to go out to see my older sister. The estranged one. We can't let my mother know. I feel a bit better and not as sad anymore. I hope the school year changes that. Anyway, I've got about 9 days left of summer. I haven't completed my list of goals which is sad. I don't think I completed anything on that list to be honest and seeing it now would only make me sad. I've changed a lot thought, I've gotten older, sadder.

A hurricane is coming for southern california, supposedly tomorrow. I'll see.

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youmightaswell · 11 months

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Die!

Fade2Nada

Marco, my very first boyfriend, when I was 19 in 1989, was an artist. While in my college at an Amnesty International concert I organized, someone tapped me on the shoulder. A guy handed me a Kudos bar (remember those? My favorite was the chocolate chip one which was sold in my school’s vending machines) and said, “My friend likes you.” Interestingly, thinking back, how fitting he used that to convey his romantic intentions when the tagline was: “Kudos, I’m yours!”

I looked across the room to see a motorcycle jacket-clad guy doing his best James Dean impression. When I mentioned this to my friend she said she knew him. They grew up together and he lived on her block. He got the seal of approval.

So it began. He had come to the show in his friend’s two-seater so I sat on his lap all the way home to my house. The music was blaring and every time I asked him his last name I heard “loud”, instead of his actual surname, “Lau”.

From then we were an item. His sister went to my college so would sometimes pass me notes from him. (He attended school nearby and lived closer to my college than my home.)

I did not have a phone because cell phones -- even AOL messenger -- hadn’t been invented and I didn’t have a landline at home because my schizophrenic mother had been convinced the government was listening to her calls.

We made do. He would ride his bicycle miles to visit me unexpectedly. He is pretty much the only person who ever met my mother. I was embarrassed he did but he inserted himself into my life aggressively. What was done was done.

Later we’d take long motorcycle rides, me hanging onto him for dear life, our helmets butting when we came to a short stop.

He also aggressively campaigned for me to lose my virginity to him. While I had no specific reason for not doing so as yet, I have never been one to be pushed into anything. If someone tried to bully me into anything, I’d dig in my heels.

He’d send me letters and postcards; I’d return the volley. I’d be at his house all the time and often would sleep at my friend’s house who lived on his block so we could be together. We went to the same clubs, concerts.

Finally one night he aggressively lobbied for me to have sex with him (he was never rapey at all and I always felt totally safe with him. He was simply annoying, but not scary) and I started crying.

I wasn’t scared. I just didn’t like his attitude. I felt anxiety. I also didn’t like that he was uncut and I never liked his smell. It’s not that he wasn’t clean; our pheremones just never jibed.

Apparently I had sent Marco a letter afterwards saying I wanted to lose my virginity to him but I just wanted to feel I was in a safe and secure exclusive relationship with him. I wasn’t feeling seen or heard. (He saved this letter and still has it 34 years later. We reread it together recently.)

At his house shortly later he left a polaroid on his bedside table that he had taken of a girl I came to know as Nadine. She was wearing a thong and fishnets. Clearly he wanted me to see it. I was very hurt, but also knew then to emotionally detach from him.

A while after that he mailed me a card and letter. (I saved it for all these years and he and I recently reread it together. I’m glad he seemed horrified at his brutishness when he did.) In it he mocked my crying, ridiculed me for my “divine virginity” and had said I was ridiculous for making that request for him to be exclusive. It would only make him resentful of me.

After that I sort of distanced myself. I got another boyfriend very quickly and lost my virginity to him. He never even knew I was a virgin and there was never any stressful conversation or prompting. It all was natural and organic and he and I ended up dating for five years.

Marco didn’t initially know about Rick, my boyfriend, but sent me an card telling me he was sure I probably heard but he had a girlfriend now, Nadine. It has all worked out as it should. I was very hurt, but also knew I made the right decision peacing out on Marco.

I coined a term then that I and friends still use to this day, “The Half-Eaten Sandwich Theory”. I told Marco that we were not fully done. I was putting a pin in this but that I was with him first and reserved the right to circle back around at any point. He agreed he was indeed my half-eaten sandwich and also felt he had the right to circle back around when/if he felt the urge. Who would ever think that would really happen 34 years later? The Universe is a tricky bitch with it’s foreshadowing and private jokes.

We kept in touch sporadically and when I was going through a breakup with Rick years later, Marco visited and we almost had sex then. At the last minute I, once again, didn’t pull the trigger. I was still resentful of how Marco how treated me.

That same summer we took acid together. I am anti-drug and so neurotic even an extra strength Tylenol could make me freak out. So why I thought it was a good idea to take the Superman acid with Marco in my tiny basement studio apartment is beyond me. He has always been a bad influence, I guess. Acid, marital affairs... for some reason he has a way of making me throw caution to the wind. Taking half a tab did nothing - or so I thought. So I finally took the other tab.

Within minutes my rug was breathing and I was freaking out. Marco blew incense smoke in my face and I made him leave. I was overstimulated. I got into the shower and obsessed over how the acid would finally know when to stop being, well, acidy. I cried my eyes out convinced I had ruined my life and everyone would think I was schizophrenic like my mother. No one would realize it was just because of the acid. The only solution I could think of to make the acid stop was killing myself. I had hoped Marco would have taken care of me, an acid pro. But I had to fend for myself.

I called the drug hotline and told him I am not a bad person. I have never taken any drugs before. But that I was having a space/time continuum issue. I remember the woman on the line laughing and saying it was apparent I had not taken drugs before. She talked me down, Marco came back for a few minutes with Burger King for me and I was left alone tripping for another 18 hours.

He ended up moving to my neighborhood shortly after that, but I’d rarely see him. I finally moved to Manhattan. However his younger brother began seriously dating my best friend’s sister in law so I’d hear tons of stories about Marco. He was dating another woman, Edith, and my friend’s sister in law told us it seemed a mismatch. His girl was nice, but bland and not a creative. She didn’t see it working out and felt Marco wasn’t that nice to her. She felt Marco and I were way better suited.

Then she said she was at a dinner with his family and Marco stood up and made the announcement he was marrying Edith. Everyone was shocked and my friend said the whole thing was rather embarrassing to all involved. Years later I heard they had split. The marriage never happened.

I ran into him in the City and he now tells me I looked like I had seen a ghost. I don’t recall feeling that way, Although I believe him. My face doesn't lie. We made plans for him to visit me at my Hell’s Kitchen apartment.

It was quick and polite. I was standoffish and I just recall thinking he had gained weight and looked less James Dean-ish. By now he had a very good job as a creative and seemed stable and had matured. We didn’t seem to have much to say and the air seemed heavy.

I don’t recall seeing him again, but he now tells me he met a rich boyfriend I had around that time.

I got married in 2004 and never thought to invite Marco although several other ex-boyfriends attended.

When Facebook started he was one of the first people I tried to friend just became I had wondered what became of him. We had tons of mutual friends so I figured we’d all connect. He didn’t respond to my friend request so I assumed either he didn’t recognize my new married last name or simply didn’t like me enough to friend me on this new social media thing.

I learned from a mutual friend shortly after Marco had married an Eastern European model. My friend quipped he only saw pictures on Facebook and that it looked like a “green card marriage”. I had no idea, although Marco has always loved fashion and photographing models so it seemed on the nose. I was happy for him. I was now going through a divorce so Marco and his marriage were the last things on my mind.

Then I got deathly sick with Lyme and battled horribly for three years. During this period Marco had friended me on Facebook, but we didn’t speak. It was all I could to to stay alive so I wasn’t really paying attention to Facebook or old friends.

Apparently over the years Marco had reached out to friends of mine to ask them about my disease and resulting chronic illness and disability. I had no idea. I has no interest in him, especially romantically, so I didn’t go poking around. Every so often I’d notice he was still married, no kids. I do recall for my 44th birthday (I was still very sick) friends took me to Zuma, a midtown restaurant. A day later Marco posted from there. I left a quick comment saying we missed each other by a day! He didn’t respond to me but his wife did. I forget what she noted but it was odd. A mutual friend of Marco’s and I DMd me saying it reeked of insecurity and apparently Marco was on a short leash. I didn’t think much about it.

Several more years went by and one day Marco messaged me this amazing picture he took of me at 19. I was wearing a bra and looked ethereal. I asked if he could please print me out one so I could frame it. He said he’d do that but I should come meet him downtown at his job and pick it up. I had mentioned he could just drop it at my doorman.

I never got that photo although he swears he printed it out and had it in an envelope for me. Now, more recently, he said he suspects his wife had found it and discarded it.

Right before the pandemic struck he posted about his motorcycle. I recalled how as college kids he and I would ride on his motorcycle all over. I noted I’d love a ride for nostalgia’s sake. He replied via DM saying he’d love that but to please not leave notes on his page because his wife monitors it and he is prohibited from having female friends.

I balked and made it clear: We had not dated for 30 years and I didn’t want him then and I don’t want him now. He said he knew this but his wife was insecure and would not see it that way. He knew he and I had no romantic interest in each other.

Still, looking back, he is so thoroughly intertwined with my life. When I look back at my young adulthood, he was there. And now, at the near-end of our lives, he will be the most impactful thing that has happened. He has fashioned himself bookends on my existence. And I think I am that for him as well.

Again, I put this out of my head. I even thought about simply unfriending him because I did not want his wife to get the wrong idea. I was dating someone and had no interest in him, married or otherwise.

But then one day mid-pandemic we met up at a park by my house. It was lovely. We caught up -- he seemed sad and more pessimistic than I had ever seen him-- and he confessed he had slept with a friend of mine from college days. While this was long before he was married, his wife found out, hence his ban on being able to speak to female friends. This seemed abusive and restrictive and not something I’d personally tolerate, but it’s his life.

We met again several months later and had pizza by my house. Again, so lovely. Just such a nice feeling of nostalgia. It was so great tp see how successful he had become in his creative career. How far we had come. He was a videographer/photographer; I was a writer who owned a small PR firm. Both of our lives converged with a common theme of story telling - his visually and mine via written narrative. We would have made a great team.

A few months later during a night of drinking in the city he messaged me late-night. This was odd because he rarely texted. When he was suddenly outwardly flirty I was shocked. But soon realized he was drunk and told him he’d feel stupid in the morning. I was worried, though, because he was clearly shitfaced and I didn’t want him to drive home to NJ in that state. I stated explicitly I was NOT flirting or trying to seduce him but to please take a cab across the park to my house to wait till he was sober. I’d give him water and coffee and stay up with him so he wouldn’t get into an accident. He continued to flirt and when I shut it down he opted to drive drunk instead. The next morning he called to let me know he was alive but he saw double the amount of lanes that he should have. He committed to not drinking like that again and also was scared I’d tell his wife he had been flirting with me. I assured him I had better things to do with my time.

But then mid-pandemic he messaged me one day saying he was coming into the city on his motorcycle and was going to take me for the ride he promised.

I figured, “What the hell!”

Immediately it was as if time shifted and folded onto itself. I was both a 52-year old woman but also a 20-year old one. I was in the same Doc Martens Marco had gotten for me 30 years before. Levis/band t-shirt. It was as if time existed in two places at once with 25 years in the middle completely erased. Two different time periods spliced together as if by a skilled surgeon.

He held my hand, had his hand on my leg. It was clear something was happening. Nostalgia is a quicksand. We were both feeling our age. Just ask my neck, which I had lifted just months before. Wrinkles, aches, pains. How mortal we were. There was such a bittersweet loss and longing for when we had been together the first time, the future laying out before us. Now there were no surprises. It’s hard to get into real trouble in your 50s. Also, the half -eaten sandwich was getting moldy. What were we waiting for?

Clearly this was a man miserable in his marriage. A tale as old as the day is long. It is boring just typing about it.

And then we kissed and I asked if he has ever cheated before. He replied that despite his wife falsely accusing him of it for the last 16 years he has indeed been an altar boy.

I told him that he was surely going to feel awful guilt when he saw her that night. He said he wasn’t so sure. YOLO. I told him to call me the following day simply to tell me how he felt. I was scared he’d hate me forever for indulging his indiscretion.

Before he dropped me off at my house he brazenly said, “I don’t just want to kiss you; I want to do everything with you we didn’t get to do when we first dated.” I rolled my eyes. He ended with, “I want to have sex with you.”

Ballsy!

I knew exactly what he was doing. I believed because I had denied him for years he knew I was a safe bet to say no now, especially seeing he was married. He wanted the fantasy of being able to have an illicit affair without the threat of really having one. I was going to call his bluff and teach him a lesson.

I said, “Ok. I’ll consider it.”

I figured the next day he’d call in horrible guilt.

But no, he doubled down.

Again, I called his bluff and said ok.

I didn’t want any of this. He, once again, thrust himself into my life, much like he did introducing himself to my mother years before.

He reminded me he was indeed my half-eaten sandwich. It was time to resume.

I finally agreed, willing to bet all the money I had that he’d choke at the last minute. I was so excited about teaching him a lesson and having a good laugh about this. I will always have a soft spot for him.

But now, over a year later, I was the one who got taught a lesson and no one is laughing.

What initially I thought would be a non-starter at best, a one-time fling at worst turned into a full-fledged serious relationship, culminating with him taking me on vacation to NC to stay at his friend’s house while his wife was in Bulgaria.

The year was generally blissful except for the same brick wall we hit over and over: I wanted him to tell his wife the truth. It never sat well with me he was lying. He would say she was getting suspicious: smelling me on him, seeing my name and birthday trip on their shared calendar by mistake, and even going so far as asking him point-blank. Each time he’d deflect.

We’d go see art, eat, do creative projects. I’d come with him on work shoots and we watched just about every low-budget horror movie we could find. We message all day and all night, never mentally far from each other.

I don’t think either of us expected this to grow into what it did or last as long. At least I thought this was extremely meaningful to both of us. He’d tell me he’d only risk his marriage for me.

But we had waited to just be together without the stress of his wife being around for over any year. The NC trip was so carefully planned It was to be the climax of our whole 34 years.

And climax we did. But after great heights can sometimes come a great fall.

And I hate to say I TOLD YOU SO, but just like I told him at least 100 times that his wife would eventually find out, she did. He always swore he’d tell her the full truth if she discovered our relationship. He just could never pull the trigger because he was tied to her and the marriage financially.

But when she found out it appeared he still wasn’t giving her the full story.

And just like that the blurred lines were not just blurred but erased.

***

I started looking back at all the foreshadowing. A writer and self-proclaimed Nancy Drew, I wanted to do forensics on our year together. Surely the Universe had given me signs he was the same old Marco from my youth. I had mistakenly thought how great it was he matured and evolved so much. I admired the man he grew into. I didn’t expect him to become so stable and caring and was so happily surprised. In our youth we both had very rough edges, but they had softened considerably over the years. But at the end I realized it was all just an illusion. Ever the filmmaker, his careful planning of our year together was a script he carefully storyboarded and projected for my eyes only. We were each other’s confidants for a full year.

I have kept the receipts before that term existed. Just like he and I both kept our old love letters and cards to and from each other for a whopping 34 years, pictures of us taken back in the late 80s, etc., I now kept our full Whatsapp transcripts, every porn video, series of sexy pictures, messages on IG/FB/Telegram (!) and text.

I reread each one, looking carefully over ever picture he took and sent. Analyzing each video, no mater how vulgar as if looking over crime scene footage. I was a lovelorn, brokenhearted CSI detective. Where did this veer off the road?

What I found super interesting is over the year he’d always take amazing pictures of me. But from one of the very first ones the only note I made was wondering why he cut off my legs.

When I complained, he accused me of not thinking him talented. Which was totally untrue. The pictures he’s taken of me have been some of the best I’ve ever seen of myself.

BUT WHERE ARE MY LEGS?

I had visited him downtown for lunch by his job. I was wearing these little black booties that have big silver stars on them. It seemed weird to cut me off at the knee just after my dress.

He’s a professional, so this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe my legs looked weird? Did I look fat?

Anyway, after that it became a running (see what I did there?) joke about how he needed to remember to keep my legs in the photo.

But again, when I saw another portrait he took of me, I noticed my legs weren’t completely erased but were severely blurred. He knows how to edit photos and film. This wasn’t some amateur mistake.

So now, after our upheaval post-trip, I began scouring all the pictures he took of me. While the first merely cut me off at the knees, some that followed blurred my legs. He has a foot fetish and would often ask me to send pictures of my feet, implore me to let him pick out my pedicure color, etc. So this wasn’t about him not liking my feet or legs.

So why this mini-erasure? Was it a subconscious symbolism? Was he alluding to the blurred lines of our relationship?

I went back and looked at one of the very first pictures ever taken of us together in 1990. He had recently resent it, poring over all the archives of everything he kept from us for over three decades.

And there is was, we were both blurred. As if ghosts existing in some purgatory or limbo. Did this 1990 photo foreshadow our relationship 34 years later. This feeling of waiting for something to happen?

He’d say he wanted his marriage to end organically. I questioned him about what he meant. A marriage ends organically if one of the spouses dies. Was he wishing that? Awful! And if he was the one to die, well then we did this for nothing! We wouldn’t get to be together after all this angst anyway.

The only other way a marriage ends organically is if one partner requests a divorce. He didn’t have the gumption to do this, often citing financial issues. So was he hoping his wife would just one day ask for one? That seemed unlikely. She was so attached she was always very nervous he might cheat.That wasn’t the mark of someone who would wake up one morning and want the marriage to end with no catalyst. He said, “Well she might decide it’s better for her to be with a vegan, a yogi, someone who has more in common with her.” My meat-eating, anti-exercise paramour had a point. But it wasn’t likely.

He came to my house and set up four cameras, to have multiple angles for a film we made. Interestingly, in reviewing the 11-minute footage of our film, again, even from the ceiling camera, the edges of me are blurred. Did he do this on purpose? I understood why he didn’t want the camera to focus on himself. If his wife every came upon all this footage she’d kill him. But why are all my lines blurred? Am I actually dead and is this all just a dream? Are we somehow in a simulation? A world Marco and I somehow created. Did we somehow die on that motorcycle ride back in April of 2022 and no one told us? Was our limbo being played out in Bayonne and the Upper East Side, this feeling of waiting for Godot never dissipating?

On our trip to NC, finally free to do anything we wanted without the fear anyone finding out or being rushed, we made another video. This time, after careful planning and no rush, at the end we realized the cameras didn’t work. Only a side one seemed to capture us, but blurry.

While upstairs with his friend, I was downstairs reading. Apparently he was editing pictures we took. Again, they were beautiful, but again my legs were blurred.

The next followed so were my hands.

He jokingly commented, “Do you have hands or paws?”

He was quite literally erasing me.

It’s interesting to note his social media moniker is “Fade2Nada” a nod to his Cuban Chinese heritage. But also probably the biggest foreshadowing of all that we wouldn’t flame out, we’d just fade away.

Once back in NYC, after his wife found out and he was in NJ waiting for her return from Bulgaria I messaged him that I was basically stuck in his own version of “Boxing Helena”. He and I love Lynch so it seems fitting he’d be recreating his heroine Sherilyn Fenn, in me. Photo by photo, film clip by film clip.

So now here I am, the victim of someone’s mashup of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Boxing Helena, a pencil end and photo-editing software.

If I felt unseen and unheard at 19, it’s much worse at 53. I mistakenly thought the sandwich was half - eaten but now realize it was cut into thirds, because this still doesn’t feel finished.

I guess I will have to wait another 34 years to finish this story - a figurative After Midnight.

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frazzledsoul · 2 years

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I also got detached from the show in s5 and s6. In my case it was bc constantly there were being introduced new characters and plots that soon after being introduced were left without any satisfactory conclusion: Malik and his daughter, Tess's sexuality, Randall's background, Randall's anxiety seemed to go away the moment he knew about Luarel.. and how he manipulated Rebecca was never really addressed either, and even Philip's personality was changed from one season to the next...

I agree that Nicky was no saint but imo "siding" blindly with one of the two is just unfair. Jack didn't behave great either. As Nicky said, he had a very black and white mentality and at times bc of that he could be very cruel. He was cruel with Nicky and later on, and even if unintentionally, he was also cruel to his mother.

About Miguel and Rebecca, I don't think he was ever presented as her second soulmate. I was expecting the moment in which he would be addressed like that, like when he gave her that brooch earlier this season and I thought she would wear it constantly just like she did with the necklace. But that moment never came. Rebecca was never shown giving him or even returning the love speeches Miguel gave her, even if she appreciated them. And outside her thanksgiving outburst, she was never shown telling him i love you or I'm in love with you or any of the sort either. So I don't know why people 1) were so mad about his appearance on the train and 2) claim such a great love story between them. If the show would have wanted Rebecca to have 2 soulmates they would have given us her perspective of the relationship or she claiming Miguel like that, but they didn't, not when she was alive and not on the train and there were plenty of occasions in which they could have. Instead they specifically chose to tell the story of an idealised romantic couple and their legacy and how the one that lived kept the other "alive" till her last moments. The show explored the possibility of having more than one great love with Kate. The speech Toby gave her on the finale was all about that and it was beautiful. But for Rebecca it simply wasn't like that. I don't hate Miguel and Rebecca's relationship, it was hopeful and sweet seeing Rebecca move on. And I definitely dont think acknowledging the fact that for her Jack was the one, undermines her relationship with Miguel, as some people in the fandom seem to do.

I don't hate Nicky, but I think the way in which a lot of the fandom views him as this lovable teddy bear who never did anything wrong is completely off base. Jack had legitimate reasons for severing his ties with him and with not thinking he was safe around his family. He did not have legitimate reasons for lying. Nicky is also a grown man who was twenty-four when Jack "disowned" him: it was not up to Jack to fix his problems after a certain point. And honestly, manslaughter is a fairly red line for a lot of people. It's understandable why Jack gave up.

What the show wasn't interested in exploring is how Jack kept this a secret for so long and exactly what happened to Nicky after the war. It wasn't possible for Jack to keep Nicky's survival a secret from his parents and I doubt he was just released into society after what happened, but the show didn't want to talk about that. They also didn't want to talk about Jack went from the depressed, withdrawn, reticent man who came back from Vietnam to the ebullient, gregarious, optimistic person he was when the babies were conceived. It's almost a total personality change and they could have spent some time telling us how and why he changed, but they didn't.

As far as Miguel and Rebecca go, they were largely a background couple until the last year and I think the show worked better that way. Their relationship was quieter and probably what Rebecca needed at that season of her life, but they never were this dramatic, passionate love story. He was a companion and a friend and she loved him in her own way, but it wasn't the same as before. It couldn't be.

#jack pearson #this is us

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andtheydontstopwriting · 3 years

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𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 -【Rodrick Heffley x F!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

word count: 6.2k

summary: [y/n], daughter from a wealthy family from New York City, has been keeping her relationship with rodrick heffley a secret from her parents, though what happens if it’s brought up and her parents want to meet the secret boyfriend?

author’s note: here it is! hope you guys all enjoy it!! though i did want to let you know that i wrote this originally as a piece of work for my original character, which is why it is in third person! if you want to request anything feel free to!! once again, thank you for reading it!

keys: [y/nn] - your nickname

“I didn’t mean to tell them, [Y/NN].” Caleb spoke in hushed tones, as he attempted to prevent any outburst that he doubted would come from his younger sister, but it was still something that he felt that needed to be stopped, “But I’m sure neither you or Rodrick would exactly be thrilled if you ended up going to homecoming with David or Chad, and you know how dad-.”

“Listens to you, yes, I do know that, Caleb,” [Y/N] began, though her train of thought was shooting off in a million different directions, “And I do appreciate you trying to stick up for my happiness, but now we have to deal with what comes with doing that.”

It did not take long for Caleb to know what [Y/N] meant, because their father did bring it up in the conversation that started this whole situation.

“Father and Mother want to meet him.”

“And I don’t know if I can teach Rodrick to have the manners and social know-how that we and whoever Father believes would be more acceptable.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that’s the case, [Y/NN],” Caleb pointed out, placing a gentle hand on his

sister’s shoulder, “Give yourself the chance to step out of the spotlight for once, your happiness is what’s important.”

[Y/N] merely just nodded, because she knew that the standards their father placed on both of them were vastly different. Caleb could afford some level of security in the notion of not being worried about what their father thinks, because he does not have to work so hard to make their father happy.

This was something the teenager always had to grapple with growing up. Eventually, coming to terms with since she was the youngest, her future compared to her older brother’s was uncertain, unclear, and too many factors were up in the air: where was she going to college? What would her major be? What would her future career be? What sort of family would she have? Who would she marry?

Whereas Caleb had his future planned from the moment he was born: attend an ivy league for business then take over the family company, marry a family friend/one of the daughters of their father’s business associates or a family that would be useful to merge with and have a family. It was always clear and never questioned, even when they were kids. It took little effort on his part to make their father happy, because the expectations were clear as day and never took a moment of thought to figure out.

It was her burden to bear, and never had the strength in her to expect anyone to understand the judging gaze always cast her way, as if waiting for her to mess up or make a mistake to remind her of her failures no matter how perfect she appeared to the public eye. To her own boyfriend, even.

And part of her subconscious wished it would remain that way forever. But life has a funny way of working out in the end.

Her parents at dinner the same night her and Caleb conferred, they brought up having this mystery boy their daughter had been seeing secret over for dinner so they could have a chance to finally meet. [Y/N] had little say in the matter and the Saturday before Homecoming was agreed upon.

As soon as she returned to her bedroom for the night, [Y/N] knew she had to bring it up to Rodrick as soon as she could if they were to have any chance of staying together after that Saturday. The week they just about had was not going to be enough, but [Y/N] still felt she had to put the effort into trying to teach Rodrick at least table manners her parents would expect. But perhaps even that was pushing it.

:~+~:

“Your parents want to meet me?”

“Well, they did say they want to meet you, but I don’t think it’s because they know it’s you, Rodrick.”

Perhaps on their near nightly phone call was not the ideal place to tell Rodrick about the dinner, but it was the first instance she could get it out without her anxiety getting the better of her about telling him in the first place. It saved her having to tell him in person and save herself from seeing how he reacted in real time.

“And dinner was the best place for that to happen?” Rodrick questioned after a brief moment of silence and a familiar squeak of some springs faintly resounded into the speaker on his end. He must have

“With my family, yes,” The blonde confirmed, “With all things considered, with the holidays too far away and Homecoming approaching sooner, and they specifically said they wanted to meet you before the dance, a dinner is the only way.”

“Okay…” Rodrick trailed off, going silent for a moment, “When is dinner anyway?”

“Next Saturday,” [Y/N] replied, though quickly added before her boyfriend could speak, “We’re gonna have to have etiquette lessons, Rod, so I can teach you everything that you’re gonna need if you’re gonna make it through the night.”

“What do you mean etiquette, babe?”

“Like how to sit at a table, which fork and spoon to use and when to use them, what you can and can’t say, that sort of stuff. The basics.”

“Do you think a week is enough time to teach me all that junk?”

“Luckily for you, you have a great teacher and someone who has been taught this stuff her whole life, I think something will stick.”

“Alright, whatever you say babe,”

“I’ll even help you get ready,” [Y/N] promised, though had to amend it with, “I’ll try to, anyway, I'll at least come over to make sure you have an appropriate outfit because t-shirts won’t cut it.”

There was a clear groan of annoyance on the other end of the line before the teenager spoke, “You know I hate wearing ties, [Y/N], and I’m already pushin’ wearing it for Homecoming and not to church.”

“I know, I know,” [Y/N] sighed as she brought a hand up to her face as she stood from her bed to start pacing her room, “But it’s just for one more night than normal, Rodrick, I promise.”

“And what do I get in return, huh?”

“A girlfriend?”

“Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty solid deal.”

“So lessons start tomorrow, okay?”

“After the band practice,”

“After the band practice then.” [Y/N] confirmed as she sat on her bed once more, “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Night, babe.”

:~+~:

Okay, so the lessons did not go great, but they went about as well as [Y/N] expected. Teaching Rodrick how to behave and act as closely to the way she and her brother had grown up being taught was like pulling teeth, and much like chemistry, it was looking like nothing was sticking. And if anything was sticking, it was gone by the next day and they had to start over.

Meaning, come that fateful Saturday, [Y/N] could only hope that her very quick rundown of the basics, the true basics of what Rodrick needed to know the night before when she went over the Heffley’s house the previous night to get possible outfit choices ready and wrinkle free knowing the state of his bedroom and how clothes could be just...existing on the floor and if it was a process for her to find clean t-shirts of his to steal, then she figured the dressier clothes he owned were living the same way.

“What’s troubling you, little bird?” Her mother asked her daughter, as she had noticed that [Y/N] had been a little distracted in chopping the vegetables up. Not only that, she had been on edge since had left her bedroom that morning.

“I’m worried about dinner tonight, Mother,” [Y/N] answered, shaking her head a bit to refocus her attention on chopping the vegetables.

“I’m sure your Father will be on his best behavior, there’s no reason to be worried.” Helena spoke softly, reassuring her daughter with the soothing tones and having set the spoon down beside the stove top to go over and gently brush [Y/N]’s hair back, “Everything will be fine, little bird.”

As much as [Y/N] wanted to believe her mother was right, that things would be fine and everything would go smoothly,she also had to remind herself of her father’s constant attempts to control her life, and everything in her life. That included who she dates and there had been plenty of failed attempts in the past because of this meddling, and [Y/N], for once, just wanted to be free of the constant puppet strings attached to her that her father controlled.

“Father’s best behavior is turbulent, Mother, you know this,” [Y/N] pointed out with a sigh, “Rodrick isn’t exactly what Father believes to be best for me, and I’m afraid if Rodrick says one thing he doesn’t like, that's it, we’re through.”

“Your father’s opinion does not always matter, remember that his say is not final-”

“It’s been final before.” [Y/N] interjected, “Remember he wouldn’t let me try out for the cheer team?”

“He’s just looking out for what's best for you, that’s all.”

After that, the kitchen was silent save for the sounds of cooking, because once more [Y/N]’s anxiety took over and Helena simply did not know how to comfort her daughter anymore. It was easiest to just finish dinner and then go get ready for it, adn say nothing else on the matter for fear of making things worse.

However, just as [Y/N] was finishing up getting ready when she heard the familiar sound of an engine rumbling up the driveway. And gazing out of one of her bedroom windows that overlooked the front of the house, she saw the familiar van park in front of the garage.

So that is a good thing, Rodrick managed to remember to get there early as she insisted numerous times upon. Not that much earlier than the time she said dinner would start, but it was something, at least.

Next came the issue of watching Rodrick getting out of the van. While he did dress the part, the part was also distracting her that she kept her eyes trained on him before he disappeared under the roof that covered the front porch. It was indeed a rare instance for [Y/N] to see her boyfriend dressed up, considering she never exactly went with the Heffley family to church on Sundays.

So it was easy to understand as to why she had zoned out, nearly daydreaming and ogling over what she saw from a distance what her boyfriend was wearing. Though before she could fully dive into the daydream, the echoing sound of the ring of the doorbell echoed across the house and it was enough to snap [Y/N] out of her head and she was quick to stand from her vanity, hoping to make it to the front door before her parents or brother could open the door.

However, her attempts were in vain because of the delay it took her to stand and began the mad dash to the front of the house and the size of the home itself, and by the time she had reached the top of the stairs, she saw her mother already at the front door and as [Y/N] made her descent down the staircase, she heard what was spoken.

“Ah, so you must Rodrick,” Helena spoke, though [Y/N] could get a hint of confusion from the tone used, which [Y/N] assumed was because her mother had recognized Rodrick from the couple times she had seen him before when she first started to tutor the boy, but that was not brought up when Helen added, “Come in, come in.”

“Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clemens.” [Y/N] heard Rodrick speak as she continued her descent down the staircase, smiling to herself because at least something else stuck: always use formalities, never call my parents by their actual names.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was met with a beat of silence and then Rodrick saying without much hesitation, “You look beautiful,”

A dust of pink appeared on her cheeks and she briefly looked towards her mother away from Rodrick, who looked between the teenagers before taking the steps towards the dining room, allowing the young couple a moment alone before the dinner began.

“I have to admit, I know you hate getting all dressed up,” [Y/N] spoke as she neared Rodrick, reaching up to gently adjust the tie around his neck, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you dressing up more often.”

“There isn’t a chance of that happening, babe, you know that.” Rodrick pointed out, though a teasing smile graced his face, which [Y/N] mirrored.

“A girl can dream, can’t she?”

Just as Rodrick was about to lean down to give [Y/N] a quick peck on the lips, he froze in his movements as he both heard a voice from down the hall echo around them and the fact he felt [Y/N] slightly tense up.

“Ah, [Y/N], dinner is about to start, I expected you to be in the dining room already.”

[Y/N] took a deep breath as she began to speak as she stepped to stand beside Rodrick instead, “Father, we were just heading there n-”

“This must be the secret boyfriend, then, Rodrick, wasn’t it?” Charlie interrupted, which was something [Y/N] was used to by then, and held a hand out to Rodrick (another thing [Y/N] could see right through--the charm of a businessman), “Charles.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Rodrick said as he briefly glanced at his girlfriend to see what to do, before [Y/N] replied with a glance down to her father’s extended hand, which Rodrick took with a little too much fervor, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Clemens.”

The energy behind Rodrick’s hand shake with her father was something that would not be much of an issue, but [Y/N] never had a how to shake a hand lesson herself, so it was overlooked when she was teaching her boyfriend what he would need to know. She was a girl, and the only thing she ever got on the subject matter was to be light and certain in the handshake, and that was all. So one look at her father’s face said all that she needed to know.

It was already off to a bad start and they had not even sat down for dinner yet.

Luckily her mother had called them into the dinning room before much more could already add to the poor outcome [Y/N] could start to sense coming already, no matter the words that echoed to counter the notion, hoping that things would look up from there forward.

And for the first part of dinner, it was as her mind had hoped it would be, as everything went smoothly. Any questions her parents asked to Rodrick, it took a moment, but he was always to pull something out that also did not make him nor his family look bad. The looks shared between the Clemens siblings were a mix of relief and happiness as the dinner progressed, because the lessons and seemingly did in the end stick with Rodrick more than [Y/N] previously had suspected they did.

“So, what is it you want to do with your life after you finish up high school, Rodrick?”

That was the question she was dreading, and one she was hoping for once her father would overlook and just accept that fact, move on that the future did not matter as much as the happiness of his children.

And the question must have also thrown Rodrick off for some reason, as he glanced once more at [Y/N] and in turn [Y/N] glanced at Caleb, a look of panic settling on her face.

“I think the team has a good chance of winning the game next week.” Caleb brought up, “So Homecoming may be a celebration for that win, too.”

“The football team has won every year the past several years, Caleb,” Charles pointed out, sighing as he set his fork down on the plate before him, “But that is not what we are talking about now, my boy.”

“The marching band is probably the best we’ve had in years, Father,” [Y/N] quickly added, clearly buying Rodrick enough time to try and find an answer to Charles’ question, “It’ll be worth going to the game for more than just the football team this year.”

“[Y/N], I believed I asked Rodrick a question, so I would appreciate it if you would allow him to answer.” Charles said, his tone rising from calm coolness, to slight agitation as he took a deep breath to calm down once more, “Now, Rodrick, what do you want to do with your future?”

“To be a musician.”

“Oh, a musician,” Helena tried to express some happiness in the discovery, “Are you in the school orchestra with [Y/N]?”

“N-no, Mrs. Clemens,” Rodrick realized his mistake of bringing up the fact he wanted to be a musician, but at the same time, if he said he didn’t know, he was sure he and [Y/N] would be over then and there, “I’m in a band with some of my friends.”

“What type of music do you play then?” Charles asked and [Y/N] and Caleb once more exchanged looks before [Y/N] looked to Rodrick once again. A look that said there was no point in lying about it now.

“Heavy metal.”

“Oh…” Charles began, glancing between [Y/N] and Rodrick, before his eyes landed once again on Rodrick, “That’s an interesting choice, have you not considered going to college or another career path?”

“Charles,” Helena interjected, giving her husband a look from across the table, “Now is not the time.”

“What?” Charles asked, clearly confused as to what his wife could mean, “What’s so wrong about getting to know the boy who my little princess is dating?”

From there, Helena merely just shook her head and dinner continued in silence, The only sound was the clatter of utensils as they hit the plate. [Y/N] kept her gaze down at the plate in front of her, merely just pushing what food was left around on her plate. Though, at some point, under the table, she reached over to gently grab a hold of Rodrick’s hand. To which, Rodrick merely just briefly looked over to [Y/N] and the only thing he could really do in reaction to it, was to let go of the tension in his shoulders before attempting to finish the meal before him.

As expected, her mother announced that she would go and get dessert not too long after, but it would be a few minutes to warm it up once again. So as [Y/N] stood to start clearing the table, her father also stood.

“[Y/N], could I speak to you for a moment?” Was all he said before he started his way towards the office he had at home.

[Y/N] knew what would come from this conversation, and she had to try to be strong this time. She knew that this conversation would be her dad trying to get [Y/N] to break things off with Rodrick--something she knew was going to happen as soon as her father brought up the question of what Rodrick wanted to do with the future. His dream was not to be anything her father expected the man [Y/N] to be with. And it was time for her to take her own life into her own hands after so long of being looked down upon and controlled by the plan her father had for her.

“What is it you see in that boy, [Y/N]?” Charles questioned as soon as the door to the office was shut behind [Y/N].

“I can assure you that Rodrick is someone with more than meets the eye, Father.” [Y/N] answered clearly as she rose to stand up a little straighter.

“But you are aware that he is not ideal, don’t you?” Her father spoke as he folded his arms behind his back, taking the strides to stand in front of his daughter, “You should be with someone like Edward Vill or Chad Danford. Not someone who you met tutoring, and someone who believes his heavy metal band will take off.”

He waited a moment for [Y/N] to speak, but all she did instead was lower her head and folded her hands at her front, so Charles continued, “All you have to do is end things with Rodrick and your future already looks brighter, my princess.”

“That’s your plan for my life, though,” [Y/N] pointed out, her tone quieter than she wanted it to come out, but she soon found her confidence once more as she added, “For once I want to do things my way, so with all due respect father, I don’t think I will break things off with Rodrick no matter what your standards are for me.”

“The standards I hold for you are meant to ensure you have a future.” Charles began, using a variation of the same speech [Y/N] heard time and time again, “As you know, your brother will take over the company, so I just want to make sure your foundation is strong in whatever ways I can provide. You’re young, you know little of how the world works.”

“Have you not realized that in trying to live up to your expectations, I’m putting my own happiness at stake?”

“The real world knows nothing of individual happiness, [Y/N], success is the only thing that will cultivate any sense of the word.”

“I’m doing my best as I am right now, and then some, trying to gain the success you wish from me,” [Y/N] finally lifted her gaze up, though the tears starting to well in her eyes as soon as she did, looking at the man she called father, but had not felt like one in years, “But even with all that I have accomplished and juggled since we moved, you still think I’m a failure, and nothing I ever do is right.”

“There’s always more, you never have to stop working and aiming high.” Charles’s voice began to rise once again, “And being with that boy is going to prevent you from doing such.”

[Y/N] shook her head just as the tears started to fall from her eyes, “I’m done trying to be what you think I am, because I’ll never be good enough for you.”

“Young lady, you listen-” Charles began, but [Y/N] was quick to interrupt for once.

“No, I’m done listening and following whatever it is you say for me to do, I’m choosing my happiness for once, which means I am not breaking up with Rodrick just because you do not approve of him.”

And while Charles attempted to persuade [Y/N] otherwise, he did try to get her to understand why he does what he does, but [Y/N] was not having it. And despite his efforts to also get her to stay, [Y/N] was quick to make her leave, knowing if she stayed any longer it would turn out uglier than it had already become. And they did not need that to happen.

Instead, [Y/N] tried her best to compose herself, keep herself together, as she went back into the dining room to get Rodrick. She did not need her brother or her boyfriend doting on her immediately, and she had to stay strong as she left the family home because she could not afford any more signs of weakness.

Though the soft hand on Rodrick’s shoulder and her quiet yet slightly quivering voice as [Y/N] asked, “Can we leave now?” was all Rodrick needed to have to know things did not go well when she talked with her dad, but he didn’t know what was discussed.

“See you around, Caleb,” Rodrick said before he stood from the dining table and [Y/N] was quick to grab a hold of his hand to walk out of the house.

“Young lady, you stay in this house or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life!” She heard her father call out as he was approaching the foyer, but Helena was quick to hold him back.

“Charles, let her go,” She tried to reason with her fuming husband, “You two need some space right now,”

[Y/N] shot a quick apologetic look to her mother as she grabbed her purse hanging by the front door before opening the large wooden door and stepped outside.

“Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Clemens, it was real good!” Rodrick felt like he needed to say something before he shut the door behind him, and that was what happened to come out. Perhaps it was nerves talking and not filtering his thoughts that were not filled with concern for his girlfriend. And when they cleared the steps of the front porch, the boy was quick to make the steps to walk side by side, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s hand as they got to the van.

As soon as everything was unlocked, and both were in their respective spots, Rodrick turned the noisy van on, backed up, and began the drive down the long driveway and back onto the street. [Y/N], meanwhile, just leaned her head against the window, staring mindlessly out the side view mirror and watched as the house she had started to call home grew smaller and smaller as they moved away from it, and she could see two figures standing on the porch but soon as they turned the corner onto the street, they were out of sight.

:~+~:

Rodrick did not know what [Y/N] wanted to do, and she had been silent since asking him to leave her house. So he assumed it best to play it safe and drive around town as she calmed down enough to tell him what she wanted to do, or at least, he felt like she could answer when asked what she wanted to do. He knew by then to not push [Y/N], let her do things at her own time, because of his experience during finals last year and how she got so stressed out she shut down for a few hours.

Though after an hour of driving, from the corner of his eye, Rodrick could see that [Y/N] made an effort to lift her head off of the window and that was the sign that she was calming down and he made the choice to ask a question.

“Wanna hit up the convenience store since we bailed on dessert?”

There was a moment of silence, then two, then three, before Rodrick heard the defeated voice of his girlfriend come from her mouth, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And with that guidance and direction on what to do next, Rodrick complied and drove to the nearest convenience store.

The next thirty minutes or so of the evening for the young couple were spent attempting to rid themselves of the pain and sorrow of the evening that had happened earlier. Trying to be young once more without any burdens or cares. And with this attempt to change how the night progressed, came the night chill and while Rodrick was fine, [Y/N] was not. Luckily, or unluckily, Rodrick had left one of his sweatshirts in the back of the van--which was the unlucky part, because it was found in the back of the van and who knows when it was last washed. But it was better than nothing, so [Y/N] accepted it and was grateful it at least smelled of him--the cologne he started to wear more frequently, that is. Once inside the shop, they moved through the snack and candy aisles with careful thought and consideration of what they wanted, with [Y/N] clinging onto Rodrick’s arm, her head resting upon his upper arm as they moved through the aisles and made their decisions of what felt appropriate for the evening--for Rodrick, a bag of chips and for [Y/N] a bag of sour gummy candy, as well as a bag of chocolate to share between them, and went to check out.

They chose to just sit and eat in the back of the van, still parked in the parking lot of the convenience store, as it was easier than finding somewhere else to go. They also sat in considerable silence once again, the only sounds this time were the bags crinkling and the sound of the crunch of the chip whenever Rodrick ate one, side by side as close as they could be and eat with ease at the same time.

“I’m tired of trying to be good enough,” [Y/N] suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that fell over them once she had decided she had finished with her candy for now.

Rodrick, who had been in the middle of eating a chip when [Y/N] decided to speak up, was grateful that he had something in his mouth as it allowed him the time to process what his girlfriend just said and figure out what he was going to say in return. In the meantime, he set aside his bag of chips and shifted enough to reach out and grab a hold of [Y/N]’s hand.

“I’m tired of tryin’, too,” Was what he apparently settled with, having never exactly been good at the whole comforting thing, “So we can be tired of it together.”

There was no verbal response from [Y/N], but she responded to this statement by gently rolling her head onto his shoulder, her other hand also came up to start playing with his fingers after setting the bag of candy down. So Rodrick took this that she was listening to what he was saying, but wasn’t sure in what way.

“Buuuut, one of the smartest girls I know taught me once that having two negatives together ends up canceling out the other, so we can just be tired together, instead.”

With this addition, a breathy laugh was heard in his ears and a proud little half smile appeared on his face as he heard her voice once again not being plagued by anxiety, but simply by sleepiness.

“I don’t think you understood that full lesson, sweetheart, remember how you almost flopped that test because you didn’t?”

With her statement being made, Rodrick’s smile grew into a full one before he tilted his head to place a gentle but loving kiss to the top of her head, before he murmured against her hair, “But I would have totally failed without you, babe.”

“We can just be tired together, Rodrick,” [Y/N] confirmed after a moment of quiet enjoyment of the moment, “And deal with all the teenage bullshit together.”

“Wow, did you just swear, babe?” Rodrick said in joking disbelief as he leaned away to look at [Y/N] head on.

“It’s been a long night, sweetheart.”

“My place?”

“I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate us sleeping in the back of your van, so yes, your place.”

:~+~:

“Where have you two been?” Was what they were greeted with as soon as they arrived at the Heffley family home, “We’ve been worried sick!”

“Sorry, mom,” Rodrick began, stepping in front of [Y/N] as he added, “We just went on a drive and stopped to get snacks, that’s all.”

“Your mother called, [Y/N], and she was worried when I said you weren’t here, but I’ll go call her to come get you, okay?”

“N-no,” [Y/N] began, the stammer in her voice stopped Susan from going to the phone in the living room, and Frank just looked at her confused, “I, uh, don’t want to go back home tonight, can I please stay?”

“What happened at the dinner that made you not want to go home?” Frank questioned.

“Just some family stuff,” [Y/N] covered easily, though she took a step to stand closer to Rodrick as she continued, “...Didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

“Oh, then of course you can stay, and we can figure this all out tomorrow, but I am going to call your mom back and let her know you’re safe, okay?” Susan said with a gentle smile and [Y/N] reciprocated the smile with a quiet, thank you, before Mrs. Heffley added, “You can sleep on the couch, after I make the call I’ll go get you a blanket,”

“Can she actually sleep in my room?” Rodrick brought up, his tone rushed, to which both his parents gave him a stern look but before his mom could even get the answer of no out, he added, “I don’t want her to be alone after what happened, is all.”

Susan and Frank gave each other a look, before they looked at Rodrick and [Y/N], and they caught the young couple glancing at each other and they saw the softest expression on Rodrick’s face they have ever seen on their son and once more looked back at each other.

“On an air mattress.” Frank said, pointing a finger at the both of them, to which the pair nodded before Mr. Heffley turned to go get the air mattress from the basement.

:~+~:

So [Y/N] never ended up sleeping on the air mattress.

She started out there, trying to do right by Rodrick’s parents since they allowed her to sleep in their son’s bedroom, which she could not be in past 8:30 on a school night usually. But sleeping in some of Rodrick’s clothes and with him only feet away, she was crawling in right beside him not even five minutes in of trying to fall asleep.

When she awoke the next morning, [Y/N] felt a weight on her chest, and not the emotional kind. No, it was almost the entire dead weight of her sound asleep boyfriend sleeping over top of her, his head resting on her shoulder, his wild bed hair tickling her neck. She did not move him off or attempt anything, instead choosing to bask in this moment they rarely got to have and enjoy a quiet Rodrick for once, a version of him totally at peace. Gently, she started to run her fingers along his back through the t-shirt he was wearing, before the fingers of her other hand started to gently card through his hair, which only settled the sleeping teenager deeper into her.

When he settled a little deeper into rest, this was when she had a slight struggle with breathing, and [Y/N] knew that she had to do what was usually impossible: waking Rodrick up.

But luckily for her, she knew a solid weak point that often got him up if he ended up falling asleep before one of their tutoring sessions: tickling his sides.

The action did not shoot him straight awake, but it was enough to shock his brain into making him open his eyes, and groggily lift his head up.

At first, it was clear he was about to settle back into the sleep he just awoke from, but before his eyes fully shut, they opened once more as he processed he was not laying on his mattress, but instead his girlfriend and the sleepy grin that appeared as he lifted his head once more and gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes was a sight [Y/N] would never get used to no matter how much she saw it.

“Good mornin’ babe…” Rodrick mumbled as he began to lean down to give her a good morning kiss too, before he was promptly pushed away with a gentle hand.

“Your morning breath is atrocious, sweetheart,” [Y/N] pointed out with a quiet laugh, “It could kill.”

“C’mon, you know I would never kill you, babe.” Rodrick pouted, “Now c’mon and give me a good morning kiss.”

Rodrick instead kissed all over her face as [Y/N] kept moving her head to avoid Rodrick meeting her lips, but their playfulness was cut short as they heard Susan’s voice from down the staircase calling up to them:

“Rodrick! [Y/N]! It’s time for breakfast!”

And fearing that Susan would come in to check on things, the pair moved--Rodrick faster than he ever had in the morning--to get [Y/N] into the air mattress. It was a bit of a scramble and [Y/N] nearly tripped getting off the twin bed, but she had slipped under the throw blanket on the air mattress just as Susan began her descent up the staircase, and the teenagers pretended to be asleep.

Until they heard the sigh and Susan making her way back down the stairs, their eyes were shut but the moment she heard his mother’s voice away from the attic door, [Y/N] quietly slipped off the air mattress and made her way back to Rodrick’s bed, where she leaned down to give his a soft kiss on the lips.

“We should probably go down stairs soon, sweetheart.”

Rodrick opened his eyes at the feeling and smiled up at [Y/N], who smiled down at him in return.

“I hate it when you’re right, babe.”

It was this moment they both realized something very important, very pivotal.

They both loved the other, and it was a somewhat scary yet exciting thought.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

daddy issues - chapter xiv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this chapter’s coming to you unedited because I am honestly emotionally exhausted and the only reason I even got this done is because “playing” with these two makes me happy. So yeah, I’m officially stretching the story a bit more (next chapter is the one I’ve been referring to for a while) and after it we’ll be pretty close to the end!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Ransom had been a weird mixture of nervous and excited ever since he picked me up from work after visiting his grandfather. I knew they had a good relationship - from what I gathered, it was the only truly peaceful relationship he kept with his entire family - so I didn’t understand what the anxiety was about until he admitted, almost blurting out, “He asked me to visit the publishing house with him tomorrow.”

It was impossible to contain my smile. “That’s great, honey! He really does trust you, huh?” But Ransom didn’t even nod, just kept looking at me with eyes filled with a heavy emotion I couldn’t name, so I tried to occupy myself with other stuff.

“What time are you leaving? Do you want me to book a car to take me to university or will you still be able to give you a ride?” When he didn’t immediately answer me, I raised my gaze from the pile of essays in my hands to check on him, and the moment our eyes met, he seemed to snap out of whatever it was that was keeping him immobilized.

“No, I should be able to take you. Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t worried, but I knew Ransom enough by now to be aware that he wouldn’t relent, not wanting me to go to my workplace without him, so I just smiled.

“Okay, babe.” The petname escaped my lips so easily, I froze when my own ears processed it, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Ransom’s frame paralyzed where I had left him, so I just focused on my work and pretended like nothing different had happened.

“I should be up in a minute.” I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. I didn’t look at him again, but I saw him nod from my peripheral vision before turning around and leaving towards the staircase, allowing me to breathe deeply again. What the hell was going on with me?

Ransom’s P.O.V.

She never came to bed when she did decide to call it a night. Well, she did stop by my bedroom, but chose to remain by the threshold until I caught sight of her figure, and when our eyes met, she smiled and wished me a good night.

I sighed when I realized that I was going to have to sleep alone. I didn’t like that, I didn’t want it. But there was nothing I could really do about it. She wasn’t my girlfriend, she was just the mother of my baby. At least to her own eyes.

Having her so close and then seeing her pull away was tearing at my heart, which is why when I got up in the morning to find her in the kitchen, breakfast already made while a packet waited next to my plate, I felt like I would physically melt.

“What is this?” I asked, already reaching out for it. I opened and checked to find a few sandwiches - homemade - before she could confirm what my eyes were seeing, but I was still struggling to process.

“I-I fixed you a lunch bag. I don’t know how long it’s going to be with your grandpa, didn’t want you to starve.” I just stared at her, unblinking, while this warm feeling spread over my chest, even turning me on.

Because I understood what this was. I understood what she meant by this. This was her, recognizing she had taken two steps back yesterday, and compensating with a gesture that moved us even closer to where I hoped to take us.

My heartbeat picked up at the realization that she did want something more. She did, she just needed time to adjust. And I could give her that - I could keep giving her that, just as long as we kept moving forward.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it.” I’d taken too long to answer, she had approached me quickly to snatch the bag from my grasp. “It’s stupid anyway.” I stopped her, both hands on her waist before she could fully turn around.

“No, give me it!” I know it sounded whiney, but I didn’t want to risk being without my lunch bag. Once it was in the safety of my hands, I put it to the side for just enough time to cradle her face and force her to take in what I had to say. “Don’t you ever say anything you did for me is stupid. I’m not used to having people do things for me because they thing I’d like or need them. This means everything to me.”

The soft smile she gave me, the way her eyes looked up at me from under her eyelashes had me feeling like I was on a rollercoaster and the fall had just begun. I suppose, in many ways, it already had.

The little gesture didn’t leave my mind the entire day. I caught myself smiling at nothing, becoming easily distracted while Harlan tried to explain something about the presses to me, but every time I ran a hand over my face and apologized, he just gave me a knowing smile.

I didn’t even feel embarrassed about it. I was almost proud, really. I had spent an entire life having to pay for what I needed - and I did it, unashamedly so. And now there was this incredible woman who wanted to take care of me. I could barely believe it.

I couldn’t believe that this woman that I didn’t even know a few months ago was now everything I thought of, everything I wanted in life.

Everything was going well, too well. I should have known it was only a matter of time until something ruined it.

I first noticed it because Harlan’s face suddenly fell when he raised his gaze to meet mine, instead settling on something over my shoulder. When I turned around, I quickly understood why.

It was my mom, and by the way she marched in our direction, she clearly wasn’t here to do anything cheerful.

“Was I supposed to know about you having a baby through my own father?” I cringed, even visibly flinched at the knowledge that she now knew about my kid. “Have you no respect for your mother?”

My snicker said everything she needed to know, and when she raised a finger to shake it on my face, it took Harlan to control us both. “Okay, alright, that’s it. This is still my place of work, an extension of my house, I won’t have you two disrespecting it’s sanctity.”

I huffed, adjusting my coat as I turned my back on her to focus on my grandfather again. He was the reason why I was there, and the only reason why I didn’t just leave upon seeing my mother.

“Now, Linda, if Ransom didn’t tell you about something this important in his life, there must be a reason for it. What do you think it is?” My mother turned her face from her own father, seeming particularly interested on her own high heel shoes now. We both knew she wouldn’t relent, so with a sigh, Harlan met my eyes, silently asking me to be the bigger person here - I knew.

“How about this, I’ve been meaning to have you all for dinner for a while, it’s been a long time since the family gathered for anything other than a holiday. Is Friday good for both of you? You can bring the girl, if you want.” That last part was directed to me specifically, making my eyes widen. I could only imagine what she would say if I suggested a family dinner with my entire family, especially considering everything I had told her about them - and why I wasn’t excited to tell them about the baby in the slightest.

“I’ll see, but she might be busy.” My mother snickered, making me narrow my eyes at her, thinking about a very important reassurance I needed to get before I even considering attending that dinner. “If I do end up bringing her, I don’t want to see any of you all treating her as anything less than a princess, is that understood?”

Of course, Harlan knew I was speaking more to my mother than to him, and that I expected the message to be extended to the rest of the family before Friday rolled around, but seeing as my mother was still brushing her already perfectly clean skirt, he was the one to answer.

“Of course, Ransom. We’re all excited to meet her, she’s a welcome guest in my house.” The warning was there for the both of us. And even though it was my mother that would need to keep that in mind, I already knew I was the one who would end up leaving the only place outside my house where I felt safe because as long as she was there, there was no way I’d feel okay.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale writings #ransom drysdale series

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds.

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

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

That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever.

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink.

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half.

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear.

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew.

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n) continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek.

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

#black reader #black!reader #poc reader #poc!reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years

Text

Gwynriel one shot

I wrote another fanfic before this one. Each can be stand alones, but I wrote this one awhile ago with the intent that this specific scene happens before the mate bond snaps into place for them. I like the idea of the necklace causing major drama, but I also think Gwyn is a levelheaded person which is where the inspiration for this scene came from. Enjoy!

Nesta had insisted on a dinner party for Gwyn's birthday. Gwyn hadn't wanted a celebration. This day had been one shared with her sister. The sister she had failed. She no longer found this day worth celebrating. She was not worthy of this day. Not without her sister by her side. She found she couldn't deny Nesta though. Not when her and Emerie bounced off chattering excitedly about the night they would plan for her. Even the house flickered with excitement.

Gwyn stared at her reflection. It was so different than what she was used to. She borrowed one of Nesta's more modest dresses for the occasion. It was still much tighter than her priestess robes and showed much more of her collar bone than her fighting leathers had. She left her hair down, mostly to cover the parts of her shoulders that the dress didn't. The final adornment to her ensemble for the night was the dainty necklace given by an anonymous friend.

Gwyn smiled at the memory of Clotho handing her the necklace. Gwyn hadn't realized why the piece of jewelry was important to her. Just that it was. The evening would be fine she reassured herself. She would not allow her thoughts to stray to Catrin. Catrin was gone and she had to accept that. Gwyn stifled a laugh at the memory of previous birthdays. Catrin was a notoriously bad gift giver and even though she knew Gwyn better than anyone, her gifts were never sentimental. One year she got Gwyn a book of songs which would have been wonderful if Gwyn did not already have that exact same book. A book that she had shown Catrin out of sheer excitement when she originally got it.

Gwyn found herself walking up the stairs to the house of wind. She stopped right outside the dining room. She just needed one moment to compose herself. A shadow whipped out as if to alert her of Azriel's presence. She smiled at the shadow before turning to the Shadowsinger. His face was unreadable per usual, but he was staring at her with a new sort of intensity.

"I just needed a moment before the chaos ensues." Gwyn felt the need to explain why she was staring at the door to the dining room. Azriel nodded his head in understanding. He knew better than anyone how overwhelming his family could be.

"Happy birthday Gywneth." He gave his normal smile as he said the words. It was the only smile he gave out. Could barely call it a smile considering it was the smallest upturn of the corner of his mouth. It was enough to ease the anxiety blooming in Gwyn's chest.

"Thank you." She planted a large smile on her face and opened the door to the dining room. She was immediately bombarded by her two best friends.

"I knew that dress would look amazing on you." Nesta smirked. Gwyn had outwardly refused the dress at first. Claiming it would not look half as good on Gwyn as it did on the more petite Archeron sister.

"You look beautiful Gwyn!" Emerie gushed. She looked as though she was going to cry and Gwyn couldn't help but poke fun at her.

"Are you going to cry, mother?" Gwyn's light jesting was returned with an elbow to the ribs.

"We are going to warn you now though, you can't open your gift until tonight. We are all sleeping in the library. I already have it set up for the three of us." Nesta was giving Gwyn the warm smile that always made her feel accepted. She had found a sister in Nesta. Their relationship was different than that of the one with her twin yet it made Gwyn's chest squeeze happily. Her relationship with Emerie was much the same. She knew tonight would be draining and wanted nothing else but to go to her room alone after this dinner. She never could deny Nesta and Emerie especially when they teamed up like this.

"Sounds fun!" She emphasized the words, trying to make herself sound excited.

"Happy birthday Gwyn!" Cassian shouted from where he stood across the room. He lifted his drink to her. Suddenly a wine glass appeared in her hand. She whispered her thanks to the house.

"Gwyn you look lovely!" Feyre walked over to give Gwyn a hug which was ultimately awkward since Nyx was resting on her hip and he just wanted to pull Gwyn's hair. Rhysand appeared next to Feyre. He also lifted his glass to Gwyn.

"Nesta demanded extravagance for you and I couldn't exactly say no. Only the good alcohol for tonight." He sent the priestess a wink. Once again the thought of her sister crowded her mind. Those thoughts were always ready to remind her of what she deserved. Good wine was not one of them.

"Thank you everyone. It means a lot." Gwyn made sure to make eye contact with everyone. She truly was grateful for the effort and she wanted them to know that.

"Well, let's eat." Amren drawled.

Rhysand wasn't joking when he said Nesta demanded extravagance. Her and Emerie had created such a feast that Gwyn couldn't control the shock etched on her face. The item that caught her eye was the fish. Parmesan crusted flounder. It was a rarity growing up the way that they did. Gwyn couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her.

"This was my sister's favorite! When we were younger they served this on special occasions and Catrin would pick it up whole and would pretend the fish could talk." The table had gone quiet. Probably recognizing that any discussion of her sister was taboo. That didn't seem to stop Elain from inquiring. Though Gwyn questioned how much anyone told her. From their few interactions, Gwyn gathered that there wasn't much information the girl was included on.

"Where is she? Your sister?" Elain was genuine. She wasn't trying to be malicious. No one had clued her in and Gwyn couldn't fault her for that. Nesta seemed to think otherwise though. The death glare she sent Elain would have had Amren feeling nervous. The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"She, uh, died." Gwyn didn't like saying the words aloud. They made her feel her lack of control too completely. Elain bit her lip. She was about to respond when Gwyn's necklace seemed to grab her attention. The tension was so thick Gwyn thought she might be suffocated if she didn't try to relieve it.

"What was she like?" It was Feyre who finally spoke up. Gwyn didn't want to talk about Catrin. Not to people who openly judged Nesta for her perceived failings. She looked over to her two friends. Nesta was concerned, but Emerie was giving her such a soft, supportive look that Gwyn responded. She figured at the very least Nesta would never allow anyone to openly judge her.

"She was adventurous and ridiculously beautiful. We were opposites in almost all aspects. We couldn't go a day without fighting. But she was my person. We never really belonged any where, being part nymph, part high fae, we were shunned everywhere. But we always fit in with each other. We always belonged with each other." Gwyn closed her eyes. She was imagining Catrin's face, her smile. Catrin had always been the fun sister. Life was never dull with her. Gwyn was extremely aware that everyone was staring at her. She wished it would stop.

"The mini Pegasus would have loved her." Emerie said. Only the three best friends understood, but it made Gwyn laugh all the same.

"You still would have been the favorite though." Nesta sighed. She had tried to win the Pegasus over, but there was no swaying it from Gwyn's side. Luckily the conversation changed after that. Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta were in a heated debate about which romance author was the best when Mor set a present in front of Gwyn.

"You didn't need to get me anything." A blush of embarrassment rose to Gwyn's cheek. The beautiful female was notoriously bad at gift giving which only made Gwyn more excited to open the gift. If only to pretend it was Catrin giving her the present.

"I promise you, you'll wish that to be the case once you see what's inside." Cassian smirked as Mor rolled her eyes. Indeed, the gift was unnecessary. Gwyn stared for awhile with pursed lips, perplexed, before responding.

"What is it?" Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel howled in laughter while the rest of the table looked amused.

"It's enchanted shampoo. The smell never fades!" Mor looked so excited despite the amusement from the rest of the table. It reminded Gwyn so much of Catrin that it wasn't hard to find a genuine response.

"Thank you Mor. I love it." She sent her a small smile in hopes of appropriately expressing her gratitude for the present. Azriel placed something in front of Gwyn next. She looked at the Shadowsinger with surprise. She hadn't expected a gift from anyone, let alone the most closed off of the Illyrian males. She began to unwrap it when Elain spoke again.

"I hope it isn't another regift, Az. That would just be unoriginal." The words were spoken as a joke, but the intense stare the two shared had Gwyn pausing her opening. Most of the table sent the pair a questioning look. It wasn't until Elain glanced at Gwyn's necklace again did she understand what Elain had said.

The necklace around Gwyn's neck was meant for Elain, but for one reason or another Azriel had given it to Gwyn. Perhaps he actually intended the necklace to be given to Clotho who regifted it yet again to Gwyn. She didn't really mind one way or the other. She decided it didn't make much difference. Until this moment she hadn't even realized the necklace was from Azriel. She allowed herself to wish for only a moment that the Shadowsinger gave the necklace to her himself without it being meant for Elain originally. Now she would admit that the silent conversation between the two of them unnerved her in the slightest. Gwyn allowed a smile to curve on her lips.

"I hope it isn't a ribbon either. I would find that unoriginal as well." The joke did as Gwyn anticipated. Azriel chuckled along with Nesta, Cassian, and Emerie. Azriel hadn't thought of the potential backlash when he regifted the necklace to Gwyn. He had been holding his shadows back all evening. He didn't want his family to know the lack of control he had on them in Gwyn's presence. The second the joke left Gwyn's lips, his shadows danced toward her. He couldn't help but feel relieved that she wasn't upset. He quickly gained control of his shadows again and nudged Gwyn to continue opening the present.

It was a dagger. Gwyn smiled softly at it. To the rest of the group, it would appear to be a simple gift. It meant much more to Gwyn though than any necklace ever could. Azriel had spent many lessons going over daggers with her. They spent hours talking about different metals and styles and weight distribution. The dagger in her hand was perfect, exactly what Gwyn had discussed would be her preference in a dagger. She analyzed every inch of the dagger before coming across the engraving. She laughed a heartfelt laugh upon reading it.

"I know it's not a sword, but I couldn't think of any other name that best represent you." Azriel was giving Gwyn a true smile. She realized that was the true gift of the night. Seeing how beautiful his face looked when a full blown smile graced it.

Nesta threw her head back in a cackle while Emerie and Cassian groaned at the carving.

"What is its name?" Rhysand quirked one eyebrow while looking at Azriel. What could he have possibly named the dagger to elicit this type of response.

"Silver majesty." Gwyn stood from her chair and swung her arms around Azriel in a hug. It was an awkward hug considering he was still sitting down, but it had her heart beating faster and not all together unpleasantly. Azriel too found that the hug shot a thrill into his shadows. It had them curving around her in a hug as well.

"That is the most ridiculous name I've ever heard." Amren muttered as she gulped down her wine. Gwyn didn't care. She thought it was perfect. She realized in that moment, the dull ache left behind by the death of her sister lulled while the shadows danced around her.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #fanfic #necklace #azriel #acosf #acotar

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dvesbackup1 · 3 years

Text

when we were young | mathew barzal

in which two childhood enemies friends meet again after getting lost in their own lives, only to reminisce on the past they remember so vividly.

requested: yes/no

wc: 3.8k

warnings: mentions of anxiety, language, fluff

pairing: mat barzal x f!reader

a/n: i’ve never been to british columbia so i apologize if anything is incorrect! (also never been to a wedding so all the information was taken off of google for that part).

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

mathew barzal was extremely irritating. whether it was his contagious laugh that bounced off the walls of whatever room he was in, or the cocky smirk that outlined his lips whenever he threw digs at you. even the fact his name was repeatedly remarked on NHL network, almost to make you never forget who he was. you tried your best to pay no mind to him, after all he wasn’t worth stressing over. it hadn’t always been this way, but underneath the hatred, was a feeling you couldn’t quite distinguish.

your family and the barzal’s were neighbors since you were young. you knew him when pigtails and overalls were your go-to, and the islanders were just another NHL team with no specific connection. mat remembered vividly how the “rivalry” between the two of you began. you turned fourteen, lost a majority of your baby weight, hips began to fill out, and the structure of your face becoming more predominant. you were no longer just the girl next door, but you were becoming a woman. he didn’t know how to act around you anymore. instead of facing you straight up, he turned to insults and making your life a living hell. before, you were his best friend, a little sister even. now, you had become a young woman midst mat’s flourishing interest in girls.

you were completely oblivious to mat’s reasoning behind his behavior change. it left your thoughts lingering in the night, wondering where your best friend went. so you did what was natural and blamed it on hockey. claiming he was just busy, and becoming a person of his own. you watched him grow, start to put more effort in his appearance. his shoulders broadened, and he had successfully become majorly taller than you. he grew into his looks, and it was something you wouldn’t deny. you observed from afar, only speaking when necessary. though, you longed for the mathew you once knew.

summer in coquitlam, british columbia had just begun. you were about 17, as you tapped your fingers on the counter of Jackie’s Ice Cream, a small ice cream shop you worked in during the summers. summers in canada weren’t quite warm enough to wear a tank top and shorts. therefore you were clad in blue skinny jeans and your worktop, that had the logo above your breast. it was a friday night, and the checkered, red picnic tables surrounding the shop were full of people. you felt working here grew increasingly annoying due to the amount of kids from your high school that came by. your mother told you numerous times that having a job was nothing to be ashamed of. “it’s not the job, it’s that everyone and their mom comes here to get ice cream,” you protested, as your mom would just shake her head.

you stood up straight at the front counter as you sensed people in front of you, your eyes remained on the register that you were wrestling to fix. “what can i get for you guys?”

“two vanilla and two chocolate shakes, please.” you looked up quick, recognizing the voice, to find mat barzal and three of his teammates before you.

“couldn’t you have found somewhere else to get ice cream?”

“not to hurt your ego, but i didn’t even know you worked here.” a lopsided smirk danced among his face, while his friends laughed at his attempt to burst your bubble.

“pretty sure our moms talk all the time but alright, mathew.”

you stopped calling him ‘mat’ shortly after you both distanced, feeling it wasn’t appropriate to call him a nickname he didn’t deserve. no one besides your closest friends knew, but mat’s departure left you cold. you eventually eased into not having him around, but losing your best friend wasn’t a good feeling. it was lonely, and left you confused. you both no longer sat with each other on the bus, and when it came to you both getting your permit, mathew wasn’t there to help you study. he wasn’t there to tell you he was proud of you, or help you navigate the roads during the winter. your mom always asked you where mat was, and quite frankly he was the only guy your father approved of. you knew nadia must’ve been asking about you as well, but you pushed it aside and tried not to think about it.

“your total is $8.35,” you mumbled, trying your best to put on a ‘customer service smile’.

mathew reached in his wallet and pulled out a ten. as he reached over to hand it to you, his arm knocked into one of the milkshakes which splattered all over your top.

“fuck,” you hissed, quickly grabbing the paper napkins from the dispenser.

“shit, i’m so sorry i-“

before mat could finish, one of his friends interrupted, “keep the change,” he snickered, gesturing for them to walk away. you shook your head in disbelief, watching them walk back to their car. tears brimed your eyes and heat radiated off of your face. you aggressively threw the paper towels soaked in vanilla milkshake into the trash, as you walked into the back to find something to change into.

senior year began, as well as the new semester. you grew increasingly close to mat’s friend, jack, who you learned was not one of the boys at the ice cream incident. you both had the same math class, and something to complain about, mrs. briggs. he was charming, had fluffy light brown hair that sometimes got in his eyes, and was great with your younger sister. so, it was no surprise when he asked you to go to prom with him. you weren’t into the whole “prom-posal” thing, hence he just got you a dozen donuts with ‘go to prom with me?’ written on the inside.

it was the night of, and your sisters were sitting impatiently on your bed, waiting for you to walk out of the bathroom in your dress.

you took a deep breathe before opening the bedroom door, “how do i look?”

jane, your youngest sister, squealed before jumping up before you.

“y/n, you look so beautiful,” your eldest sister, lorelei, admired.

“you don’t think it’s too much? i’m not really looking forward to the whole ‘walking down the stairs and making a grand entrance’ thing.”

“you’re going to have to get over that, mom’s gonna want some pictures. besides it’ll only be us,” she reasoned with you.

you hummed at her reassurance, looking over at the mirror. your dress was slim, and velvet. a darker shade of red that complimented your complexion. it was tight around your chest and waist, and loosely flowed down to your ankles. it had a small dip between your cleavage, but not enough to be considered promiscuous.

after making your awkward walk down the stairs, and having your mother’s camera flash in your face 50 times, the doorbell rung. you scurried over to the door, quickly opening it to see not only jack, but mathew beside him.

“you look, wow,” jack’s face quickly burnt up as he struggled to find his words.

“you look wow too” a laugh escaped your lips as you gestured for them to come in. your eyes followed mat as he slipped past you, the smell of his cologne wafting into your face. it was sweet, and smelled a bit cheap, as it lingered a little longer than you had wished. you mentally scoffed at his comfortability, sauntering in your house like he lived here.

“mathew! how are you?” your mother, elena, wrapped him into a tight hug. he didn’t bother to hesitate before wrapping his own arms around her figure.

“i’m doing good, family’s good, teams doing good. how is everything here?”

asshole, you thought, as you averted your attention over to jack, who was standing over by the fireplace. his blue eyes were focused on the picture frames that were evenly placed upon the mantel.

“what’re you looking at?” you enfolded your arms around him from behind, looking over his shoulder at the frames. his eyes were glued on the one in the middle. it was you and mat, you both were around eight years old. your eyes squinting from the bright sun shining upon them, and you were clad in a pink bathing suit. mat had blue swim trunks on that had a pattern printed throughout. the toothy grin on both of your young faces brought you back to that day.

“your family and the barzal’s have always been pretty close, eh?” his tone brought you back to the present. it was unrecognizable to you, slightly mixed with bitterness.

“yeah, i guess so. my dad and his dad went to college together.” you weren’t sure what he was getting at. you impulsively bit the inside of your cheek, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“you guys ready to leave?” mat’s voice interrupted the fog of tension that had filled the air. he slightly fixed the suit jacket cuffs on his wrists before looking straight into your eyes.

“let’s go,” jack pushed past you and mat. you studied him for a second before you trailed right behind him.

jack had pretty much ditched you 20 minutes after you got to the hotel where your school was hosting the prom, finding his teammates more interesting apparently. you knew it was because of earlier, but you weren’t sure why. you sat at the table in the corner of the ballroom, with your best friends, alessia, and iris. “i don’t understand. i haven’t really talked to mat since christmas, what’s jack’s issue?”

alessia shook her head beside you, “maybe mat said something?”

“i agree, mat definitely has always had feelings for you,” iris said as she twisted her blonde curls, taking a sip of the non alcoholic champagne poured in her plastic champagne glass.

“either way, ditching me at prom is literal bullshit.” you scoffed, as a slower song played over the speakers. couples filled the ballrooms floor, dancing at a slower rhythm.

“you’ll always have us,” alessia grinned, reaching over to grab your hand.

you squeezed it before glancing at the both of them. “when ‘bottoms up’ starts playing-“

“oh you bet your ass we’ll be up there,” iris chuckled.

when alessia dropped you off that night, you found mathew sitting on your front steps with his eyes planted on his hands, that laid in his lap.

“what’re you doing here?”

“oh, hey.”

“hi?” you laughed, before taking a seat next to him.

“what jack did was messed up,” he finally spoke up after a few minutes of silence.

“did i hear you correctly? are you being sympathetic towards me?”

“no one deserves that, y/n,” he reasons with you, his eyes remaining on yours to let you know he’s serious.

you wanted to say something, but you couldn’t put the words into your mouth. instead you stood up, brushing off your dress. “goodnight, mathew.”

you were 23 years old as you were sitting in a bridal shop with your mother, lorelei, jane and lorelei’s maid of honor, maria. you sat on the overly expensive couch at the corner, with your head in your hand, and your elbow resting on the small table beside you. the wedding was in less than 3 months and lorelei woke up one morning and decided she wasn’t happy with her dress.

“everything in this room is so white, it’s giving me a headache,” you groaned, checking your phone.

“relax, i’m sure when you get married you’re gonna be picky too,” your mother said.

“at least i won’t be like bridezilla.”

jane stifled a laugh, as your mom sent you a glare.

“okay, i think this is the one,” lorelei carefully walked out from behind the curtain. the dress had lace sleeves just upon her shoulders, a sweetheart neckline that dipped down on her chest, and lace that was stitched into the bottom of the dress. “well?”

“i like this one a lot better than the one before. this ones made for you,” you stated your approval.

“you look gorgeous, lor. do you like it?” maria helped lorelei pin her hair back to get the whole picture.

her lip quivered before responding, “i love it.”

with the wedding in less than a half hour, everything was being finalized to as close to perfection as can be. lorelei wanted lavender, so mark, her fiancé, made sure to make that possible. the bridesmaids all wore various styles of lavender dresses, except for maria who wore a darker shade of purple.

you took a deep breath before taking a peek at the people already sitting in the church pews. your eyes scanned over to the brides side, seeing alessia and iris sitting with your cousins, over to the next row to see mike and nadia. your eyes widened, anxiety swelling in your stomach. if mat’s parents are here, he’s here, you thought. glancing to the people next to them, two men. one that could’ve been mat, and another you didn’t recognize. you hadn’t seen him in so long, and it was just the back of someone’s head.

“is he here?” jane whispered from behind you.

“jesus christ! you scared the fuck out of me,” you whisper yelled, scolding your younger sister.

“sorry, but is he?”

“not sure, saw someone that could’ve been him but i can’t see his face.” you tried to observe the crowd from a different angle, having no luck.

“we’ll just have to wait until we get up there.”

“yeah, ‘cause that makes me feel so much better.”

“it’s gonna be fine, worse case it is him. he’s probably hot now anyways,” jane shrugged, as you eyes were glued to the side of her head.

“girls! cmon,” your mom whispered, gesturing for you both to join the rest of them. “dad’s walking your sister down the aisle soon.”

you attempted to swallow the lump in your throat, silently praying that mat wasn’t here. after stalking his instagram every so often, you knew what he looked like now, and he only got better looking. his hair longer, and arms a whole lot stronger. you had to refrain yourself from watching highlights of his games on youtube.

mark walked solo down the aisle with a big grin plastered on his face. his best man, his best friend andrew, followed shortly behind. your sister and mark decided they wanted the groomsmen and bridesmaids to walk in pairs. you paired with mark’s friend, travis, who was the same age as you. you knew him well enough to know he’d comfort your anxiety while being in front of a large group of people. before you knew it, travis was in front of you, his arm open for you to take. he offered a reassuring smile that you expressed your gratitude for, taking his arm while inhaling a deep breath. you kept your eyes forward, not wanting to bother investigating the folks on the brides side. you stepped up onto the ledge, jane stepping behind you.

“you okay?” she asked, whispering even though the organ would mask her words to anyone else.

you turned around and flashed a smile at her, “yes, are you?” she nodded, before turning her attention to your dad and lorelei. you always wondered what it would be like to get married, you wondered how you’d meet your person, and how you would know they were the one. after admiring lorelei, you turned your eyes to mark, remembering to watch him while everyone was watching her—something 27 dresses taught you.

“don’t freak out,” jane muttered.

“what?”

“promise you won’t freak out?”

“jane, seriously?” you tried to keep your voice hushed, the pastor had began the ceremony.

“mat’s here with some guy.”

“where?”

“4 rows down from grandma and grandpa.”

you casually shifted your eyes from the front, all the way to your grandparents, mentally counting 1..2..3..4. there he was, seated exactly 4 rows down from your grandparents, right where you thought he was. you gulped, taking in his physique. you couldn’t help but admire the progress he had made physically. before he was slender, tall, and had muscles by default. his muscles now visible through his dress shirt, and the way he was sitting should’ve been a crime. your eyes wandered up to his face, his dark brown locks perfectly styled upon his head, and eyes fully concentrated on the ceremony. you must’ve been staring for minutes, as he glanced over at you, looking almost surprised to see you looking back at him.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the pastor laughed, catching your attention.

since about 100 guests in total were invited, the reception was at your parent’s house. the backyard set up with tables and chairs, and a large canopy from above with lanterns hung on its roof. small, orchid plants were arranged in the center of every table. “you did a good job, lor.”

“you think so?” she asked, as she zipped up her more comfortable dress.

“yes, but why didn’t you tell me mathew was going to be here?”

she sighed, “because i knew you would protest against it. he’s older now, maybe you guys could be close again.”

“lorelei,” you spoke up, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“just please talk to him tonight, just a greeting is fine.” she walked past you, softly touching your shoulder before exiting the back slider. so you did almost what she asked, did your rounds, greeted mark’s family, your own family, and even spoke with mike and nadia.

“mat’s here!” nadia informed you, hopefulness beaming and evident in her eyes.

“he is?”

“yes, he’s with his teammate, anthony.”

“oh, i’ll have to find him before he leaves,” you breathed out. you wouldn’t lie to her, and you knew it was the mature thing to do. you grabbed a glass of champagne off the cocktail table, and headed back into the house. you found yourself in front of the fireplace again, looking at the picture frames that had not changed. “crazy how fast time goes by, eh?” mathew said from behind you.

you turned around fast, looking at the man in front of you. “it’s good to see you,” you blurted.

“you look great! how you been?” mat hated small talk, but he felt like confessing his feelings for you off the bat wasn’t a good idea.

“i’m good, i graduated and everything. starting the new job at the office. what about you? your mom told me you brought your teammate?”

“yeah, tito. he’s great, you’d love em.” you noticed mat’s smile was softer than when he was a kid. he moved closer to you, looking at the picture frames for himself. his brown eyes landed on a picture of you smiling in your prom dress. “prom, huh? such a long time ago,” mat joked.

“yeah, at least i looked pretty.”

“shit, i forgot about that. i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, it was a long time ago,” you assured him.

“no, why don’t we go out there and i’ll dance with you. make up for the dance jack never gave you.”

“i mean, or we could dance here?” you weren’t too fond of dancing with your childhood crush in front of your entire family just yet. mat agreed, going on his phone and picking a cheesy slow song. “i’m not entirely sure how to do this-“

“relax, just put your arms here,” mat said as he moved your arms to the correct place, up on his shoulders. “you are a little stiff.”

“oh shut up,” you laughed, hiding your face into his chest. you noticed his cologne was no longer cheap smelling, rather expensive and masculine. mat tightened his grip on your waist, making it more intimate, before pulling you a bit closer in. he talked about his team, the people he surrounds himself with. you tell him about college, alessia and iris, and how you’re living together in the same apartment.

“you’ve changed a little bit,” he said, studying your features.

“yeah? what do you mean?”

“you’re just so, i don’t know. older? you look a lot like your mom,” he tells you.

“that’s a compliment i think.”

“it is.” a laugh escapes his lips.

“you’ve changed too. you’re all built and muscular, big all-star hockey player.”

“it’s crazy.”

“no, you knew you were gonna make it when we were kids!” the thought made you a bit sentimental.

mat’s phone chimes, “it’s tito, i think he wants to get going soon.” you feel a small ache in your chest, you just got him back. you both part, and you grab your half drunken glass of champagne, downing it and allowing it to coat your dry throat. “it was really nice seeing you, i hope we can do this again,” mat’s eyes looked hopeful, just like nadia’s did hours prior.

as mat was about to walk out the back slider, and out of your life for god knows how long, you wouldn’t allow yourself to be shy anymore. “you’re the one i’ve been after all this time.” mat stopped at the door, turning to face you. “i don’t know why you hated me in high school, but i’ve always loved you. i never stopped.”

“i didn’t hate you.”

“what was that then?” you pried, if mat was going to disappear for months again you mind as well make it worth it.

“you became a woman. you got hot, whatever you wanna call it, alright? i didn’t know how to act around you,” mat admitted, a bit reluctantly. the confidence that always radiated off of him was nowhere to be found.

your eyebrows furrowed, “mat, you gotta be fucking with me.”

“i’m not, i promise.” you sat down on the couch, and mat made his way next to you. “i know you’re probably mad right now, but i was dumb. and one of the main reasons i came tonight was because i wanted to see you again. i didn’t wanna say anything about my feelings, because that guy you were with.”

“what guy?”

“the one that walked you down the aisle?”

you bursted out laughing, “mathew, i’m not with him. my sister had us pair up with a groomsman for the ceremony.” mat’s face flushed red with embarrassment. “well what do you say, barzal. you wanna see me more often or what?”

the same smirk broke out on mat’s face that you have seen millions of times, before grabbing yours and pulling you into a passionate kiss. “does that give you an answer?”

“hmm, i don’t know. you might have to do it again to clarify,” you teased, a goofy grin stretching from ear to ear. mat pinned you on the couch and began tickling your sides. “stop!” you breathed out, looking into his soft brown eyes. the same eyes you loved when you were a child, the same ones you love now. you stare into the darkness of his pupils, smiling, and reminiscing on the child he once was, and somewhat always will be.

#mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #mat barzal x reader #this took a lot longer than i thought it would #proud of it though #hope y’all enjoy

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my-headcanons-academia · 3 years

Text

Inko chews out Endeavour

Characters: Inko Midoriya, Izuku Midoriya, Shouto Todoroki, Endeavour

Genre: Angst, a little bit of fluff and catharsis

TW: Mentions of child abuse, abusive home life, mental drain

Word Count:3 K

A/N: This may be a teensy bit long :3

•Okay listen

•Midoriya is god damn horrified when he hears what Endeavour did/does to his kids. He had obviously guessed that the second-best hero there is who is training his family to also become heroes would have some extensive regime but what Shouto explained wasn't "training" it was just abuse.

•He immediately offers Shouto and his sibling's a place with him and his mum without a moment's hesitation. They're not as rich as the Todoroki's or live in as big a house with as good food, but they're happy. •And when Shouto declines, Izuku isn't really sure what to do.

• it's not his place to tell any media or higher authorities, it'd drastically change the lives of Shouto and his siblings and would affect all of them the rest of their lives. He feels like he can't do much and a part of him feels like doing nothing means he's condoning the abuse that still happens in that home like the emotional neglect and things Shouto may not have mentioned. But he can't do anything about that right now, simply because Shouto won't let him. And while Izuku is fighting every instinct he has which is to take the Todoroki siblings out of there and into a therapist's office, it's not his place to do that.

•So instead, he does what he can for them, like offer to go places more so they're out of the house. Offer free anonymous therapy sites. Have their own improv therapy whenever needed. Promise to be there for whoever trusts him and for those who it may take longer to trust him.

•But with all his good intentions, he starts to bite off more than he can chew. Even when it's not in the midst of midnight therapy or distracting days out, it's constantly nagging at the back of his mind that he wants to do more and he isn't doing everything he can. He doesn't want to "fail" at being a good friend, since he hasn't had many experiences to base off (or any for that matter) but he is running out of emotional room.

•Contrary to the Todoroki household, Inko Midoriya actually notices when her child is going through some rough times and tries to do her best to help.

•I imagine Inko and Midoriya have a close relationship. With no other reliable parent figure in the house, they spent a lot of time together. Not only are they parent and child, but they are also friends who enjoy each others company. Inko may not always understand his fascination with All Might but she'll always ask questions and prompt him to go on about the differences in All Might's costumes and moves, even if she knows all the answers already in the same way Izuku may not understand why she enjoys sewing so much ever since she made him his hero costume but will not hesitate to help her go shopping for and carry new fabrics as she talks about the colours and texture helping boost peoples confidence. (She wants to get better at sewing so she can make a new costume for him that's better than ever before.) •And because Inko and Izuku were rather close, she knew his tells. she'd learnt well from their daily game nights to know when he lying and when he was hiding things. But that was during games. This was far more strenuous. But before she rushed in and crowded him, Inko thought that if there were really something he didn't want her to know, then she shouldn't know. So long as it doesn't hurt him. So, respecting the fact he is now a teenage boy and not a child anymore, she knew he was smart enough to make his own decisions.

•But also being herself, she still wanted to help, even if she didn't know exactly what was going on.

•At first, she thought Izuku wasn't sleeping enough because of the stress of UA so she'd plan days to the seaside or mini-holiday or they could try to make a new dessert or do a movie marathons to distract him from it. And she always took note of how very time she offered, he'd always insist some way or another that the Todoroki's join them which of course she had no quarrels with, she was delighted he loved spending so much time with his friends!

•When that didn't help she offered to get him a tutor, maybe he was anxious about his studies? She didn't trust her own education enough to tutor him as he was always impressing her with fun trivia and general knowledge but she'd taken a break in her sewing hobby to save up some money to be able to pay for a tutor.

•But when he began not eating as much, mind always preoccupied with something else than his usual hero ideology and theories, the day of the annual parent-teacher meeting and Izuku hadn't uttered a word since he got home, she sat him down on the couch, held his hands, his scarred and trembling hands, and she asked him. "Are you alright?"

•She's asked this many times before, every time he came home from school, every time she found him up in the middle of the night shakily drinking some water while staring at his phone as if expecting some death from the family. But this time? •This time her words echo in Izuku's head, getting louder and louder with each reverberation, picking up speed and other voices with every hit to his mind, the sound of text messages, quiet telephone calls, rushed breathing, stifled words, hearing footsteps from the other line, the need to help all drowning him in a cacophony of utter helplessness. •And he crumples against his mother, clawing onto her shirt like a life-jacket barely keeping him afloat above the ocean of noise only he is in and he cries. The tears stain Inko's cardigan and she wraps her arms around him, pulling him onto her lap like she used to when he was a child, she holds her son, her baby boy, as his tears dampen her clothes and his voice breaks choking on sobs.

•It was a long day.

•Izuku and Shouto had talked before about telling Inko or an adult or just anyone but there was always some reason, some excuse why it couldn't happen yet. It would be a decision all the siblings would have to agree to as it affects all their lives. Fuyumi was always hesitant, so cautious and making sure if anything were to happen nothing could be left to chance and all outcomes had to be planned. Natsuo wanted whatever would help everyone the most, and if no one was ready to do anything right now, then he'd wait. Shouto thought long ago that if what his father did to his family ever came to light, it would be brought up for the rest of his hero career and he'd never be able to truly escape his dad's hold if it always followed him like that. And until he met Midoriya, that's what he thought for years.

•Shouto was warming up to the idea of saying what happened to him specifically to someone. To see what would happen.

•And that is what Izuku could let slip. The things Shouto had told him at the sports festival, the reason for his scar, his spiteful technique and motivation to be a hero. •It was a long day. •The moment all was said and done, that he had run out of tears to cry, that he had ruined his mother's cardigan by stretching it with his grip and made it soggy with his sobs, that he could breathe without a hiccup or tremor interrupting him, he was completely drained. There was a mix of hollowness after spending so long building it all up, unsure every step of the way whether he's doing the right thing or not and the relief of finally letting there be room for him to breathe.

•But in his hollow chest was a stab of guilt, anxiety, crawling back up his throat and blocking his lungs like a thick mucus of worry. Had he done the wrong thing? It wasn't his place to say- He should have talked with Shouto more about this- Was he wrong to have done nothing so far?- Oh god he's done nothing right- this could hurt them-

• "Shhh," Inko gently held the back of his head and rubbed small circles with her thumb into the back of his neck, like she used to to do calm him down as a child, it still worked "It's-..." Inko collected her thoughts. It was certainly a lot to process, she had her suspicions but she thought she was being paranoid. She'll learn to trust her gut more. "It's not alright right now, but one day it will be. For you and for them."

•And that worry in his chest turned to blunt guilt, he shouldn't be the one crying while Shouto and his siblings have withstood literal torture all their lives, he should be stronger, he needs to be stronger to help them-

•"You are children. And none of you should have to deal with this. I know you're growing up faster than I can blink and you're being a hero more and more every day, but that doesn't mean you were prepared for this exact situation. They train you to fight villains and criminals and how to save those in immediate peril who want saving. Not thins like this." Inko continued to speak softly, pulling Izuku closer and soothing the back of his neck "Thank you for telling me and I can understand why you wouldn't want me to meddle as it may be out of my depth, but, two people helping them is better than one."

• Midoriya told Shouto what had happened and apologised for spilling too early, apologised for not doing enough, apologised for being less than open about the emotional and mental space he had to spare, promising to be more aware of it so long as Shouto continues to trust him and talk when needed. Shouto was confused as to why Midoriya was apologising so much as always and despite the apprehension in his movements, Shouto had spent enough time with Inko to trust her. And also to know that while Inko is kind, that isn't all she is.

•Shouto had seen her repay the kindness people had shown her tenfold with gifts, acts of service, compliments, reassurance and more. And something about that deep-rooted kindness tipped him off to the idea that if someone were to take advantage of her kindness or her son, that injustice too shall be repaid. And, as slow as it was and as long as it took, he knew she considers him her son too.

• Overall, the parent-teacher meeting was going well for most students. Most students were in their more casual clothes except those who had been too lazy to change out of their school uniform for the day albeit having their shirts scandalously untucked and top buttons undone (Except for Bakugo who in the presence of his mother for the first time had his tie actually tied, truly it was a sight to behold and blackmail photos to be used for months.)

• Amidst all the parents gathering together while waiting for the respective teachers to be free of their current appointments, there he was. Enji Todoroki, Endeavour in his hero costume supposedly fresh from the job. • And thus, politely fuelled by karmic fury the 5'2 force of nature marched up with a smile to the flaming rotting piece of shit excuse she can barely call a human being and greeted him.

• "Oh, hello Enji." Inko smiles. Izuku stands back with Shouto on the sidelines, watching the encounter unfold. • First of all, the informality caught him off guard. Usually, he'd be used to fans being "Overly-friendly" but something about the smile in her voice didn't sit right with the way fans usually say it. This turned a few heads.

• "And..who are you?"

• "Why I am so glad you asked, my name is Inko Midoriya, the woman whose house your son goes to every day but I suppose you wouldn't know that since as long as he's keeping up his work then there is nothing else to do with him at all," she coughed ", like parenting," and continued "Speaking of being in public I could never be as confident as you are to go to a casual event in a full-on hero costume but I suppose if it helps boost your ego then go for it! Although, speaking from the perspective of a concerned parent, aren't all of those flames a safety hazard! what if you were near a flammable thing like, oh I don't know, civilians clothes in a place you know where said civilians are tightly packed together, or there could be someone well-known to have a flammable quirk nearby or just a building's structure being, on the whole, a rather flammable thing?" Her head turned to the overgrown vermin who lead the school who had entered the room upon hearing there was a commotion "Not that I doubt UA's defence measures and predicted disastrous occurrences as no such thing has ever failed in the past. It's just the safety of children and the future generation of heroes after all." and just as quickly turned back to Endeavour

•"You know I noticed there are plenty of other pro-heroes here who are just fine in their everyday clothing because they recognise this get together is about their children's achievements and not their own. Why, if I didn't know any better I'd say you really are that insecure in your title slipping because that's what being a hero is all about, the title, that you'd distract entire families from the point of being here just to pay attention to you because it's not like being the second supposedly best hero there is credits you any attention."

• Enji barely had time to stop the flames protruding from his hero suit from dying out as peoples heads turned to pay attention. By now every student had pulled out their phone to record the situation.

•Nedzu was on his way over, laughing awkwardly ready to diffuse the situation but had miraculously been needed for a sudden important event in the teacher's lounge and was immediately escorted by Aizawa and Present Mic.

•"Oh and may I go on and say you truly are an inspirational story of how being raised as a gifted child must have been really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your life thinking you’re worth a damn without your quirk so you made it your entire personality until you developed your own actual personality because of course you, the Number Two hero would outgrow such a childish nature. That sounds rough," she pouted in mock sympathy.

• Endeavour snarled behind gritted teeth, barely stopping himself from acting out of hand at the public slander. "Just who do you think you are-"

•"Like I said, my name is Inko Midoriya, the pleasure is all mine I'm sure, or did you not hear me the first time while that fire was covering your ears? just like how it must have covered your eyes with choosing that outfit to be approachable. Oh do excuse me if that seemed rude, I'm a seamstress as a hobby you see so I tend to have an eye for when things are just wrong in every way. Honestly, if you didn't parade your title everywhere you go I'd mistake you for a villain on sight. You see, I'm only a seamstress and not a hero like you as you love to flaunt no matter the situation or need for it, but it must be so rewarding to save all those people every day and return to a home with your loving children and children who want to do the exact same thing and be exactly like you because you must be such good role-model and parent to have accomplished so much in your career and of course spent enough time on each of your children to help them grow to be happy, full of inspiration and their own dreams to fulfil. Oh, and of course your wife who must be so proud of the person you've become!"

• By this point the flames had been sputtering at random, a rare purple and even blue flamer erupting once and again as this woman continued talking and the parents out the corner of his eye who thought they were out of his sight nod their head and faces contort into realising the full weight of the truth they already knew but now understand.

• But Inko was nowhere near close to done, Endeavour could hear as much when she took a small break to smile and take a bigger breath to continue. • And blinded by the public's disapproval of everything he had convinced he had Done for the good of the civilians, he could feel the ground, just like his title, being pulled from under him as quicker heroes hit the back of his knees as Inko swung her handbag with the metal buckle across Endeavours face while she was being pulled safety away from the punch Enji hadn't realised fast enough he had thrown.

• The videos uploaded by students went viral in seconds

•"shocked" by the number two hero's emotional outburst with malicious intent to harm an unarmed civilian, Inko let it be known she found it unsuitable that he go back home to his children and instead of that they live with her and make a record with either police or a licensed therapist to make a note of any other emotional outbursts or strange and potentially dangerous behaviour in complete confidentiality.

#wow #a good parent?#in this economy?#bnha #mha #mha hc #bnha hc #endeavor #inko midoriya #izuku midoriya #tododeku #shouto todoroki #enji todoroki #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #Shouto x therapy #Inko x catharsis #INKO POPPING OFF

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Bloody Valentine

Summary: There is nothing more romantic than being stuck in an elevator and arguing about terrible life decisions.

a/n: Blame @littleredwing89 for the existence of this. This is, as of the time I’m posting this, the 4th part (chronologically) to my Dick Grayson/Merc!Reader series. It might be better for you to read part 1 or part 2 before reading this as the angst might hit harder if you do.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury. Dick and Reader are both hypocrites with no self preservation. It also gets a little heated(?) in the end but nothing really bad.

Main Masterlist

Dick Grayson Masterlist

Direct Sequel to this: Sweetness

This was not how you pictured your Valentine’s Day.

Sure, you weren’t exactly picturing a candle-lit dinner under the stars or slow dancing in the pale moonlight like a Hallmark movie. But you’re not exactly thrilled to be standing outside an emergency room waiting area, clutching an unopened pack of cigarettes and a spare superman shirt, as per the police chief’s suggestion. You tap your foot impatiently as an officer persuades the hospital staff to let you in as you stupidly forgot to bring any of your IDs. The pack of cigarettes crinkles loudly earning you a withering look from a tired-looking mother.

You take a breath.

You settle yourself in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs they point you to. There’s a scream in your throat. And you’re so close to crying. From frustration, anxiety, fatigue? You couldn’t distinguish.

You flick your eyes to them. Finally, the staff relents and you brush past them brusquely.

Your thoughts spiral. The bile lingers at the back of your throat. Burning. Acidic. Dick had lost a lot of blood but not fatal, they told you. The sob that left your mouth was inhumane. You’d almost dropped the phone. Static and white noise vibrated through your eardrums. In a trance-like state, you walk towards the room they kept him in, tunnel vision guiding you to his door. That’s what shock does to you.

All you can think of is him.

You hold the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, glaring at Dick through the rearview mirror, more specifically the white hospital issued sling cradling his arm. You watch Dick as he pretends to not notice the look you’re needling him with. “I spy with my little eye something… green,” he says absentmindedly as he stares out into the flow of traffic.

You keep your narrowed eyes straight ahead, not even thinking about dignifying his little distraction. Right now, all you were seeing was red.

To your right, Dick sighs dramatically, running his hand through his black hair. “So you’re just going to ignore me, huh?”

You’re not but you sure are trying.

Dick as far as you knew was used to silence but he thrived in noise. He lived off of interactions, good or bad. You’re usually an endless supply of banter and playful quips but right now you needed the silence. You needed him to stew in it along with you. This isn’t to say you were particularly ill-tempered or impatient with people, being friends with someone like Dick necessitated a certain level of patience in your opinion. And sure, you had a sharp tongue but you didn’t lose your temper often. But as you sit there next to him with your teeth grinding, fingers tapping, and muscles clenched, you could feel anger coiling under your skin.

He lets out another sigh, this time sounding genuinely exasperated. Good. “(y/n), I don’t know why you’re upset by this- I’m a cop. We both know the risks.”

The coil under your skin burns and you break hard, pointedly ignoring the loud cursing from the driver behind you. Dick chokes and hisses as the seatbelt digs into his chest. You offer him no sympathy or apology as you shoot him such a glare that whatever smartass remark he has for you dies on the tip of his tongue. Considering all the villains and heroes he’s had glaring at him over the years, you consider this an accomplishment. Dick flinches at the intensity of the anger wicking off of you.

You click your teeth and turn back to the road, seeing the light turn green again. “You were issued a gun for a reason,” you say flatly, opting for this instead of the litany of other ways to say ‘you’re a moron’. You’re polite like that.

It’s Dick’s turn to level you a look but unlike him, you don’t flinch, too caught up in your own anger. “Well, I assessed the situation-”

“You were wrong.”

“- and thought I could deescalate,” he says scowling at you through the mirror. Hurt flashes behind his eyes. He looks… like a mix between petulant and offended but you can’t bring yourself to care to do more than give him a withering look, especially not when you still have his bloodied uniform burned into your mind. You admired his determination to keep the peace the way you admired how uncompromising his stance was on second chances. You really did but… It was the second time he nearly died that week and it was just Tuesday.

You stop again. You close your eyes. Loving someone who could someday not come home to you was not a possibility you had prepared for. You just- You just weren’t ready to care for someone so… destructible. You weren’t sure how to process all the anxiety that came with that, so you turned to anger. It just seemed so much more productive and tangible than the shapeless fear anxiety brought you. “And you nearly got shot in the heart,” you deadpan, heart twinging. You taper your emotions down into something more manageable, something easier to compartmentalize. You can tell Dick was going through the same process. Which one of you was having a harder time, you couldn’t tell.

“He barely grazed me.��

“Correction, you have a hole in your shoulder.” Asshole. You bite back the insult, trying not to escalate the argument. You click your teeth but try not to clench your jaw or grind your teeth. The first person to lose their temper loses the argument.

Dick huffs, resting his chin against his uninjured hand. His eyes flicker to you then the window. “I’ve had worse,” he mutters and your stomach tumbles to the ground getting crushed by the tire. Your mind careens. Your lungs fill up with the smell of ash and gun smoke. For a moment, your eyes do not work. For a moment, you’re in a crumbling building. Your eyes watching the billowing smoke curl against the sky. A blast of heat so hot it makes the liquid in your eyes boil breezes past you.

You feel the flick of Yasiri’s tail on your skin and suddenly your foot is on a gas pedal instead of a broken cement floor. You blink, a tar-like emotion is swimming under your skin. You breathe. You glare at the traffic in front of you if only to focus your vision. “You’re impossible,” you snarl.

In the corner of your eye, Dick peels away from the window, anger flashing in his easy-going features. He’s brandishing a sneer. You brace yourself. Dick… Dick Grayson was a mean son of a bitch when he wanted to be and he knew too much of your hurts. You swallow, gripping the steering wheel. Yasiri swims on your skin, surfacing just enough to get ready to strike but also just enough to be hidden.

Dick opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Dick closes his mouth then opens it again and instead of something truly scathing, Dic opts for something more teasing probably realizing that pissing off your driver is a really bad idea. “You say that like you’re any easier to talk to.”

“At least, I know how to listen,” you bite out, voice drawing dangerously low. Dick’s eyes flicker to you, his shoulders bunching up a fraction. You click your teeth and take a calming breath.

Dick snorts, the knot in his shoulders disappearing. “Yeah, right.”

You bristle. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel contemplating on whether to deck him. You should deck him. You should definitely deck him. Would that open up his stitches? It probably would. You mutter a curse. It feels nice rolling off your tongue and it seems Dick feels the same when he curses in Romani. You catalog the word for later use. Dick turns away from you, glaring out the window. You can see the way his eyes narrow through the reflection in the window. The look in his eyes is a complicated mix of irritation and hurt and regret.

You silently agree to table the discussion, at least, until you got off the road.

You brush past the elevator door, tossing your bag to the corner and leaning against the cool wall of the elevator. Dick enters and leans on the opposite wall, gingerly rubbing his shoulder. Neither of you look at each other. You watch the buttons light up as the elevator climbs up. Your skin is still buzzing from emotions. You thought the quiet drive would right them but… it didn’t.

To your side, you hear the restless tapping of feet. You glance over to Dick whose body is vibrating and itching from movement. Seems you weren’t the only one jittery. You smother a snort in your hand. It was cruel but you find the fact that he’ll be so bored while recovering is slightly funny.

The elevator shakes. You’re thrown off balance. There’s a metallic clunking above you. You both lookup. Dick strains his ears to listen. You quiet your breathing so as not to distract him. He sighs and curses, the side of his fist pounding against the wall. “It’s just broken.” You look at him, eyes wide and dumbfounded.

“Are you fucking with me?”

He shakes his head. “I wish,” he scoffs. You scrunch your nose and Dick sneers. “We’re just gonna have to wait, I guess.” And you press yourself against your wall. “Wonderful.”

You both stew in silence. “I can’t believe I’m stuck...” you mutter under your breath as you try to pry the elevator doors open. Dick rolls his eyes at you. “You can’t open those doors, (y/n),” he ruffles his hair in frustration, “we just need to wait for the fire department, dumbass.”He says, his head lulling back against the wall.

You hiss, your fingers sore and red. “Has anyone ever told you that you were an ass?” You snarl making Dick scowl at you.

“You’ve said so like 5 times in the emergency room and 2 times in- Do you really wanna start this again?!”

You punch the door, creating a deep divet. “You’re goddamn right I wanna start this again because, Richard, for once in your goddamned life I wish you would stop being such a self-centered dickweed!” You seethe. Your knuckles hurt. They feel cool. They’re probably bleeding.

Dick shoots up from the corner. “How am I self-centered?”

“Risking your life like a fucking moron like that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to save those people.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” you throw your arms up in exasperation, “do you know just how bad you are at keeping yourself alive because of that fucking hero complex, huh? You dumb. piece. of. Shit.” You take a deep breath and continue your tirade. “You think you’re invincible just cus you run around in tights all night?”

Dick smirks at you. “You never had a problem with my tights when-”

“Check your ego, Grayson. I’ve dealt with a lot of spandex-clad pretty boys before, you’re nothing special.” You want the words to sting.

“Oh please, you dealt with them by putting them in body bags!”

“Yeah! Fuck you! You’ll end up in one the rate you’re going.” Dick is speechless for a moment. Something in Dick’s eyes flares. You flinch and open your mouth to say something but Dick roars, the sound loud in the confined space. “What? Are you gonna tell me to stop being a hero? Are you gonna tell me that I’m not good enough to be Nightwing like how Bruce told me I couldn’t be Robin? Hah?”

Your heart drops and your chest burns. Your hackles draw up as high as they can. You bare your teeth. “No, you fucking moron That’s not the point!”

“What is it then, (y/n)? What do you want from me?!”

“You always go on this damn crusade to save everyone and everything and you don’t bother to take care of yourself or how it would affect others!”

“Wha-”

“No! You don’t- You don’t ever think!”You shove him against the wall, jabbing your finger into his chest.

Dick glares down at you, grabbing your wrist in an almost painful grip. His finger jabs against your collar bone as he gets in your face, his hot breath fanning against your skin. “Fuck you! You’re just as bad as I am! You always throw yourself in front of others at the first sound of gunfire.”

“Dipshit, I have accelerated healing!” you say, ripping your hand out of his grip.

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE INVINCIBLE.”

“Neither are you!” You sob, it comes out wet and raw. You close your eyes. You can still see the blood on his uniform. You sink to the floor, clutching at his shirt. Your tears sting even as they fall to the floor. “Neither are you.”

“(y/n)...” Dick’s shoulders droop as he watches you proud form crumple, entire body shaking. He lowers himself to the ground slowly, careful not to agitate you.

You press forward and bury your face into his shoulder, fist lightly punching his chest. You don’t want him to see you cry. “Dick… I’m not saying you should quit… that- that’s just who you are.” You hiccup, tears flowing.“I just- I don’t want to bury you. I don’t- I can’t lose you, you fucking moron… You can’t just worm your way into someone’s heart and- and- ”

“(Y/n)...” Dick pulls you into his lap and lays his chin on your head. He hadn’t really thought… He should have known. He should have guessed.

You pull away and look him in the eye, eyes bloodshot from crying. “You can’t just expect me to be ok with the possibility you won’t come back to me,” you say lowly, punching his chest. The next few words come out in a shy whisper, low enough that Dick has to strain his ears to hear you. “Dick… I love you. I want to grow old with you, you waste of oxygen.” You cry into Dick’s shoulder not able to face him. Dick shakes his head. He puts his hand on the back of your neck and presses a kiss to your hair. Dick doesn’t know how many times he has to tell you he doesn’t think less of you for crying on his shoulder but he’ll tell you no matter how many times you need to hear it.

You sit in silence with only your muffled sobs and Dick’s comforting words filling the dead air.

“Timmy is gonna kill you for making me cry,” you sniffle, facing him with a wet tear-stained smile.

Dick gives you a crooked smile in return.“ I still have no idea how you managed to turn my siblings against me,” Dick says, planting another kiss on your face but this time on your eyelid just below your brow.

“You say that like it’s hard.”

Dick pouts at you and you cackle loud and high, somehow still managing to sound musical. “I am a lovable big brother-”

“-And I’m a fucking nun-” Dick pinches your ass through your skirt. “We'll have nun of that,”

You grab Dick’s wrist in a tight grip, managing to narrow your eyes at him. “I am not dropping this conversation just to get fucked in an elevator.”

His eyes shine cheekily at the idea.“Wasn't my plan... but that works.”

“Dick…”

Dick leans down, his nose grazing your pulse, brushing like petals against your skin. “Let me make it up to you,” Dick says, licking a stripe up the column of your neck. Ignoring the swell of his pants against your inner thigh, you pinch his cheek, tugging him away from your neck. Your stomach roils at the loss of his lips on your skin but you suppress a whine to glare at him.

Dick looks up at you, mischief lighting his eyes. He pulls away from your hand. His lips find their way back to your neck then back up your jaw. His lips press kisses along your jawline. “It’ll-”kiss”-be-” kiss “-sooo worth it.”

Your breath hitches.“Dick...” you whine, feeling your skin heat. Your mind is buzzing. He smiles against you. His fingers toy with the strap of your bra, tugging it down slowly, carefully, making sure you feel every bit of his movement. “I hear my name-” he kisses your shoulder “-but you’re not stopping me.”

You roll your hips, panting for him. Dick’s tongue is hot against your skin. “C’mon, sweetheart, you know I can make you scream my name with just one hand,” Dick whispers against the shell of your ear. His hand slides down your arm down to your hip, his hand guiding your ass towards his growing bulge. “C’mon, Sweetheart, think about it-” Lick ”-the words I could make you sing.”

“Dick...” you pant, arching your back, pressing your body against his, giving him more access to your neck. Dick nips at your flesh happily. “Honey, I’m going to-”

You yelp, your skin flying off your bones when you hear the elevator doors open. Dick, unphased, continues kissing you and licking up your skin.

“Heeey guys, it’s Grayson,” the fireman calls out to the other men behind him. He turns back to the two of you with a cheeky grin.“Dickie, if I’d known it was you..” He glances towards you, eyes catching on the red hickeys blooming on your shoulder. You want to evaporate. “You guys need a minute?” Dick grins against your skin, looking up at you through thick lashes. “Thanks, Jerry, but we might need more than that.”

You glare down at Dick who simply smiles at you as he nips at your flesh. “What? Feeling shy?” Dick breathes against your neck and all of a sudden, all of the anger and irritation comes creeping back. You shove Dick lightly, standing up and fixing your shirt. “I think he has a concussion. I suggest you check him out,” you snarl, brushing past Jerry leaving Dick on the floor, horny and stunned.

“I’m totally fine!” Dick says, scrambling to his feet and grabbing your bag.

You glare over your shoulder. “Our argument isn’t over.”

“What? But- I thought- We were about to-” Your scowl deepens as you see Dick flounder. Jerry cackles as he gives Dick’s back an unsympathetic pat.

“Sorry about that, Grayson. I guess you were destined to get blue balled,” Jerry laughs shaking his head. Dick sighs deeply, his shoulders drooping. “Are you really sorry?” Dick asks, side-eyeing Jerry. Jerry grins. “Nah, but it’s the thought that counts,” Jerry says, looking all too pleased with himself.

Dick bumps past Jerry gently with a slightly petulant look on his face which earns him a chuckle from Jerry and a glare from you. “Watch the shoulder,” you crow from the hall.

Jerry shakes his head. “No, hero’s welcome, huh?” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, she’s not exactly happy about the hole in my shoulder,” Dick admits, sheepishly. Jerry shoves Dick forward lightly and the other firemen do the same. “Go get ‘er, Tiger!”

Dick falls into step behind you, his lips brushing the back of your neck. His arm wraps around you as he pulls you close. He places a kiss behind your ear. You gasp and you hear hoots behind you. “Dick… Don’t… You can’t solve this with an orgasm,” you sigh, feeling your resolve crumble as his soft lips brushed the weak point of your neck. “Honey… please.” Dick holds you against his chest. The beating of his heart thaws you. “Honey, I’m sorry...” His breath runs down the side of your neck and it feels like feathers caressing your skin. You take a breath. He just knew how to make you melt.

“... I love you too.”

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine

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