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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 4 years

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I never wanted you to die ( Axl x reader)

A/N: Fic requested by this anon. It will be sad as hell, pure angst no happy ending. Thank you so much to @smokeandmirrorz for editing this, he’s the best!

Summary : Y/N who is engaged to Axl is killed, and he finds it out after coming back from touring.

TW: Death, funeral, mentions of murder, sad as shit.

Axl was looking out of the window of his limo, his fingers absently playing with his engagement ring. He smiled because he still couldn’t believe that you said yes, that he was going to be your husband and spend the rest of his life with you. You were constantly in his thoughts. The tour had been wonderful but also tiring, and he missed you so much. Hearing your voice during a phone call was not enough anymore, and now that he was coming back he couldn’t wait to hug you forever.

“I just wish this fucking car would go faster.” He thought impatiently. However, when he recognized the block on which you two lived, he also noticed something strange. A dozen police cars were all parked in the driveway and on the street. He felt anxiety rise up in his chest as he started wondering for what possible reason the police could be there for.

Fire? A burglar? Fight between the neighbours? The car stopped and Axl felt a sense of dread as he realized that the police were right in front of his house. His heart started beating so fast he felt like something horrible must have happened, because why the fuck were there so many cops where you and him lived? He exited from the vehicle and told his driver to go away. While he started walking towards the building, every step felt like a punch in his guts and his mind was losing its sanity little by little.

He tried to reassure himself, he kept repeating that you will show up eventually, probably scared and hopefully not hurt. Then he will hug you and tell you that everything is going to be alright and that he's here now. But before he could reach the front door, a cop crossed his way. “I’m sorry sir, you cannot go in. This is a crime scene.” Crime scene? Axl’s face fell at those words, feeling his heart clench. “I’m Axl Rose. I live here with my fiancé Y/N Y/L/N. What happened?” He asked, trying to sound firm and authoritarian but failing. “Sir, I’m sorry I have to tell you this but Y/N Y/L/N was found dead here in the early afternoon. It has been confirmed to be a murder case." Everything stopped for the singer. All his surroundings were fading out. He felt like he was in a bubble, unable to get back to the real world but drifting away in a world of pain.

You can’t be dead, his amazing fiancé can’t be gone like that, who would dare to hurt such a perfect person? He felt the tears running down before he could stop them, and without any warning he found himself falling on his knees. He wanted to scream so bad. Get angry and punch something, but he felt completely drained. It has to be a nightmare, he often got those so all of this isn’t real and he will wake up in sweat only to find you sleeping peacefully next to him. His thoughts were erratic, maybe this was his punishment. Maybe this was the price he had to pay for his sins.

“You’ll poison everyone who you claim to love, because you’re so impure!” His stepfather used to say to him, and it couldn’t have felt more true than now. “Sir? Sir?” Someone was calling him, but his mind felt so far away. Five months before Axl was nervously biting his nails, checking his pocket now and then to see if the ring was still there. He asked you to come at midnight. To be sure he was on time and to relax and prepare a bit, he decided to come up on the roof five minutes earlier.

The view was beautiful from up here and the stars were particularly shiny that night. The only thing off were the noises coming from the party downstairs. Maybe choosing to do this the same day as their goodbye party before going on tour was not a great idea.

But Axl didn’t care, because he knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him right before going on tour, so he could have that nice memory cheering him up during the stressful period of being on the road. His thought were interrupted by someone opening the rooftop’s door. And there you were, so beautiful and stunning. The redhead felt so lucky to be called your boyfriend. He was 100% sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. “Did you want to talk to me?” You asked a bit scared. What if he wanted to break up with you? Axl smiled sweetly and held your hands, looking into your eyes. “Y/N, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was a broken man but you managed to show me what being loved feels like, you dealt with all my bad sides and stuck with me through my darkest times. But you were also there for me at my happiest moments, ready to hug me or kiss me. Ready to make me feel like the luckiest man alive. I can’t imagine a life without you and I don’t want to so…” and he kneeled on the ground.

“Y/N Y/L/N would you like to marry me?” You couldn’t help but cry as you saw him holding a beautiful ring, with tears in his eyes too. You wanted to answer back so badly, but you were too emotional so you simply nodded and when you gained your voice back you answered. “Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times yes! I want to marry you Axl Rose. You have no idea how much. You better finish this tour early so I can call you my husband!”

He looked at you and he gently kissed you. Both of you feeling like you were flying, too happy to be bothered by anything. You were about to call him your husband and there was nothing better than that. “Oh God, I love you so much Y/N!” He said picking you up and spinning you around. Present “Sir, sir, can you hear me?” Axl snapped back to reality, only to be crushed by the pain again. Everything was real, it was not a nightmare. He was still outside of your house and you were still dead. Gone forever as you took his heart away with you. “Sir, we need you to come with us to the station for some questions.” The policeman said, looking him in the eye. “I was touring for five months, I have an alibi.” Axl said, angry and disgusted that they could ever think he would hurt you in any way. “We know, we just need to know more about who would have killed your fiancé. Don’t worry, you can call your lawyer when you want, Mr. Rose.” The singer was too tired to argue, so he decided to follow him.

As soon as he entered the station, he felt all the eyes on him, but again it seemed like nothing but the pain mattered anymore. They held him for an hour, asking him general questions such as who could want you dead, if you had any violent ex-boyfriends or anything else who could have helped them.

He answered back without any emotion, because it was still so hard to believe that you were gone forever. They promised him to find the killer and they asked him to not leave the city. Axl almost laughed because he felt like he could barely move without you, let alone traveling outside the country.

When he got outside, he sat on the sidewalk and grabbed his phone. His hands were shaking and he felt more and more tears coming but he needed to be strong. He can cry later.

Biting his lips, he waited, until after three rings the person answered. “Uhm… hello?” Duff’s voice said, and the singer felt so guilty to have woken him up. The bassist was probably still hungover but Axl knew that without hearing or seeing his friends he wouldn’t make it. You’re so weak Bill, you’re a pathetic excuse of a man! And now more than ever, those words felt right.

“D-Duff… Y/N… is gone, murdered. I-” Axl wanted to continue but he started to hyperventilate. “Fuck Axl, where are you? What’s going on? I’m going to pick you up, just tell where you are, okay?” The blonde said, sounding as distressed as Axl was.

“O-Outside the police station.” He replied, trying to not sob.

“Five minutes and I’m there, just stay calm Ax and don’t move!” Duff said firmly, but a hint of panic could be heard in his voice.

Axl sat still, biting his nails and trying as much as he could to distract himself but his mind kept shouting intrusive thought at him. Eventually he had lost track of time, because now Duff was standing in front of him, gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Let’s get in the car Ax. All the boys are waiting at Izzy’s house.” He gently said, pushing the redhead inside his vehicle.

He sat down and looked out of the window, hoping that what was outside would distract him and burst that bubble of pain he felt inside his heart. However, he knew that it was useless.

Three years ago

Axl was so nervous and he didn’t even know why. It wasn't like it was the first time he was going on a date. But with you it felt different, almost special. He was constantly checking himself in the mirror, trying to look badass but also sweet and mentally stable, he didn’t want to fuck things up with you. He felt like you were the one.

A knock on the door almost made him jump, but then he opened it and found you waiting for him. The singer was struck by your beauty and he might have zoned out for a few seconds.

Then he smiled and grabbed your hand, leading you to your destination.

Everything went good, you two clicked and he found himself so comfortable talking to you about almost anything. However, something was eating him alive and you noticed it.

“Hey Axl, what’s wrong?” You asked gently.

“I like you and a lot.. but I’m scared that I will screw things up or scare you because I’m me..” He said, biting his lips.

“I like you Axl. I even like the not so good parts and I know the real you. I’ll be there for you, step by step, okay? Don’t be scared to give us a chance!” He cupped your face and gently kissed you, feeling totally different from every other kiss. And it was at that moment that he knew you were meant to be.

Present

Axl snapped back to reality right before Duff parked in Izzy’s driveway. He felt so exhausted but at the same time he didn’t feel like he could sleep. Only his brain was tired. Numbed by the pain and the sadness.

He saw Slash and Steven waiting for him in the doorway, a sympathetic expression on both of their faces.

The curly haired man then grabbed his suitcase and headed towards the guest room, as footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Izzy.

The singer felt like he was about to break down again, he couldn’t hold it anymore but fuck to start crying right in front of his band was different from what he did earlier and he didn’t want to be seen like this. Izzy stared at him, with the same look that Jeff would use every time Billy showed up with bruises at his door.

It meant “You can let it out, it’s okay, nothing bad will happen” and he knew you would have said the same, but you were gone forever and the only person that was close enough to break down his walls was his best friend.

The tears just fell, he didn’t make any sound but he felt them slowly rolling down his cheeks and before he could realize it he was silently sobbing in Izzy’s arms.

At that moment reality hit more than ever and your loss was so heavy on his heart. It was like a wave of pain crushed his heart every minute with increasing violence.

At some point the others joined them, Slash and Steven patting his back while Duff and Izzy made him sit on the couch. He felt too numb and exhausted to care about being seen like that, you were the only thing occupying his mind. The good memories mixing with terrible images of you laying motionless. And he was angry because all of this was not fair. He loved you so much and you did nothing wrong.

“Y/N is gone forever…” He said through the sobs and slowly he felt tiredness taking over.

So he simply closed his eyes, imagining your warm smile.

---

They say time fixes all wounds, but that’s bullshit.

Axl stayed at Izzy’s house, with the boys coming over every day to help. He barely ate or slept. He was mostly just staring at the ceiling or the TV.

Occasionally he tried to write a song for you, but the pain and all the emotions didn’t help him as well as he thought. He felt bad for his band, who basically had to be his babysitters. It hurt to wake up every morning and not find you by his side.

All his energy was mostly focused on the telephone in his room, hoping that his lawyer or police would give him news on your murder. But it never rang.

The boys would try to distract him, make him eat, sleep or do anything else really. But they didn’t understand that was the only thing that didn’t make Axl feel like he had lost all control.

Two weeks after your murder the phone rang. He was eating a sandwich just so Duff wouldn’t die from stress because the poor man was like a worried mother most of the time.

When he heard it he started running towards the bedroom and quickly picked it up and five minutes later everything was over.

“What did they tell you?” Slash asked impatiently. Axl was so wrapped up in his pain that he forgot the band were your friends too. “They said it was a robbery. Someone thought that Y/N would be with me on tour so they wanted to steal all my things, but they found Y/N, got scared and shot them. They could have called 911 and maybe Y/N would still be here.” Axl said with a flat tone, a single tear streaming down his cheek, as all the boys hugged him sadly.

---

He started to write a song for you.

Nothing much had changed, he still broke down while hidden in the bathroom. He slept two hours a night and ate one meal a day, but writing was his last hope. He fooled himself into believing that if he could say his last goodbye to you, things would be better.

---

A week later your funeral took place at a local church. Axl offered to pay for it, and your parents thanked him for everything he had done for you. Everything was so sad and Axl was glad neither of them or him broke down and cried when he told them.

It was hard for all the boys. Sure Axl was your fiancé but you were close to the rest of the band as well so all of them were pretty down. Especially when they had to see your casket and your parents breaking down while all your relatives were sorry for their loss.

Axl thought that this day was even worse than the one on which you died, mainly because now everything would be over forever. Now he had to see you laying dead and forever gone. He was the last to go to your parents, both of them tried their best to give him a sympathetic smile and they were very moved when he mentioned the song he wrote for you.

He also prepared a speech for you, his proper last goodbye. The one that only you, him and the people close to you will hear. Trying not to cry was getting harder and harder as he was listening to all your friends and family talking about how amazing you were and before he knew it he felt Duff tugging his sleeve and then whisper: “It's your turn.”

Slowly, he walked towards the wooden pedestal with the microphone. Then he took a big breath and started speaking.

“Y/N was out of this world, the best person anyone could possibly ever ask for. Sure there was attitude and sassiness in my fiancé but also love, understanding, talent, happiness and kindness. My darling found a way to love someone as broken and damaged as me, by bringing me together piece by piece, showing me what love was and that I deserve it.” He stopped for a moment, because he felt the tears coming up again.

“Y/N didn’t deserve to die the way they did, and I’m sorry to not have kept my promise to protect my fiancé. I’ll miss Y/N so much, I can’t even imagine how my life will be, but at the same time I won’t forget and I’ll love you forever my angel. Nothing lasts forever but you will be in my heart, babe.” He finished and got back to his seat, feeling the tears silently running down.

“Hey man, why don’t you come outside with Steven and I? He needs to find a bathroom and some fresh air will help you. We will be back soon, promise.” Slash proposed and the singer decided to follow him, feeling the need to be outside.

They sat on the church’s stairs as Steven ran towards the bar across the street. Saul lit up a cigarette and then offered one to Axl who gladly accept it. He tried his best to distract himself but his mind was racing at high speed, almost hurting him.

“Hey Ax, it was not your fault, you didn’t know. And Y/N loved you so much. It was almost sickening how much you two talked about the other when they were not around!” Slash said a bit awkwardly but the redhead appreciated it very much.

Before he could reply, Steven joined them and out of nowhere he hugged his singer. Axl was far too sad to be angry at that, so he simply let the younger man hold him for a couple of seconds, then all three got back into the church as the priest was finishing the ceremony. It had started to rain.

As everyone was getting outside, Axl gave one last sad goodbye to your parents before getting in the car with the band. The boys decided on where to stop to eat, not without arguing on what was the best place to go. Eventually, Izzy decided for everybody, ‘cause you don’t mess with Stradlin. The redheaded singer put his head against the window as he closed his eyes.

Before he could stop himself, his mind drifted to a memory with you.

“You better finish this tour quickly, rockstar. I can’t wait to call you my husband!”

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll be back soon and I’ll put a real ring on your finger.”

“ I already have a real ring Axie, don’t spend too much on me! I just hate having you away from me.”

“Well, I’ll come back and you will find me at your door, with a big bouquet in my hands. Just don’t go anywhere babe.”

“And where should I go? I’ll wait for you until you’re back and I’ll kiss that pretty mouth of yours as soon as you get here!”

Axl smiled sadly and couldn’t help but think that you didn’t keep your promise. He looked in the distance wondering what will happen next, but especially how he will live a life without you.

1 year later

“This song is dedicated to a very important person, who unfortunately isn't here anymore. Life is unfair and it takes the best people away. This is my goodbye to Y/N.“ Axl said, managing to not cry, as he started to softly play the piano.

He looked up and he felt the same warmth he used to feel when he was with you. He smiled sadly, then he started singing.

After a year, you were still in his heart, even if it hurt.

#axl rose #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #axl rose x reader #80srock #80s rock band #tw death #tw murder #Axl Rose fanfiction

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writinginthesecrettrees · 4 years

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Jus in Bello

Currently thinking of Henriksen, and he may want vengeance (not justice) for Matt Guntram, but he’s not a fool. He lets his team know about the message from the Winchesters, lets the higher ups know too, and they take a couple days to craft a trap for Sam and Dean. They pull in agents from different offices, agents who Henriksen has never so much as met, send them to Colorado Springs undercover. They surround the address given to Henriksen, set up surveillance days in advance of the meeting, coordinate with local police to keep watch for the Winchesters coming to town. And Henriksen gets there a day early, pretends to be alone, pretends he doesn’t see plainclothes cops keeping a discreet eye on him from the airport to the hotel he’s booked, pretends he doesn’t know which hotel housekeeping staff are really feds watching out for him.

After the door to his room closes, leaving him alone, he checks the minibar and finds it stocked with tiny bottles of cheap booze and since he hasn’t been able to sleep without a drink since Matt was murdered, he takes one at random and knocks it back.

Henriksen wakes with an aching head and yesterday’s rumpled clothing, sun streaming through curtains he forgot to close before passing out and just enough time to make it to the next town over and address given - an empty studio apartment in a somewhat sketchy building in Monument, Colorado. He doesn’t bother making contact with any of the agents involved in the takedown, can’t risk the Winchesters seeing that he brought backup.

Lots and lots of backup.

There’s a single chair in the middle of the apartment and Henriksen sits there, refuses to glance at his watch as the seconds tick by into minutes, then an hour. Then two. He’s starting to wonder if Sam or Dean has somehow sensed the trap, despite all precautions, when his phone buzzes. He checks it.

Incoming.

His pulse races, heart hammering against his ribs, breath quickens, and he stands, takes a single step towards the window before checking himself. It’s maddening to have to rely on dozens of agents he doesn’t even know, but he doesn’t have a choice, not if he wants this hunt to be successful.

His phone buzzes again, and he doesn’t need to check it this time, knows that it’s the director letting him know that the trap has been sprung, and now he doesn’t need to stop himself from going to the window, looking down at the scene below.

His first live look at Sam and Dean happens from half a block away and two stories up. They fought, vicious and deadly, took down a few agents and killed a few deputies, but they’ve been subdued. Dean’s on the ground with a deputy’s knee in his back and an agent cuffing his hands behind his back, but his face is turned to stare directly at Henriksen’s window and he’s grinning. Sam’s on his knees, fingers laced behind his head and at least three guns pointed at him, and his eyes are fixed on the deputy kneeling on Dean’s back. Two stories up and half a block away, the expression on Sam’s face makes Henriksen’s blood run cold as he watches the Winchesters get shoved roughly into the back of a patrol car.

🗡

It’s almost midnight by the time Henriksen gets through with the press, thanking the agents who came in to help out, and the paperwork his boss insisted had to be done immediately, and through it all his mind is on the murderers sitting in the sheriff’s office, locked in separate holding cells. So when he walks into the office and sees Sam seated at a deputy’s desk, with a steaming mug of tea and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his first instinct is to shout “What the fuck is going on here?”

Sam Winchester, body count in the high seventies by conservative estimates, flinches away from his shout, and Sheriff Dodd rubs his back in comforting gesture. “God’s sake, Agent, don’t you think the poor kid’s traumatized enough?”

Henriksen’s brows raise. “Traumatized? You think Sam brotherfucking Winchester is traumatized?”

Sam flinches again, but looks up from under shaggy brown hair. His eyes are wide, glisten with unspilled tears, and his lip trembles. “P-please, sir, I’ve been so scared. You d-don’t know what Dean did. What he said he’d do t-to me.”

“You’re a hell of an actor, Sammy, but I’m not buying it.”

Sam folds in on himself, leans against the sheriff. The man wraps his arm around the killer, glares at Henriksen.

“That man is in FBI custody, Sheriff. Put him back in his cell. With cuffs.”

“This kid is scared and abused. You realize he’s been under the control of one psycho or another his whole life?”

“How many of your men did he kill just this afternoon?”

“None!”

“What?”

Sheriff Dodd huffs out breath. “Oh, his brother fought like a damn demon, no mistake, but Sam here… he surrendered immediately. Smart kid, knew this was his best chance to escape,” he says with a proud smile in Sam’s direction.

Sam gives a wavering smile, turns big guileless eyes back to Henriksen. “Please, I’ll b-be good. I don’t mind the cell, but…”

“We’ve only got the two cells, agent. Putting Sam in the one leaves him barely three feet from his abuser.”

Some trick of the light makes Sam’s eyes flash at that, hazel turning almost gold when the sheriff called Dean his abuser. Henriksen’s jaw clenches. “Chain him to a desk then. I don’t want him loose.” He doesn’t wait for the sheriff to argue, just turns and heads to the back of the building. To Dean.

🔪

“He’s saying you abused him. Molested your baby brother.”

Dean looks up at Henriksen’s words. Grins. His teeth are bloody. “Yeah? Always was a smart one, my Sammy. Think a jury’ll buy it?”

“I think a jury’s gonna hear that poor girl saying he gave her to you for your birthday. We recorded the call.”

“Maybe I forced her to say that.”

“You want Sammy to fry with you?”

Dean lunges at the bars, is pulled up short by the chains locking him to the bed frame.

Henriksen smiles. “What’s the matter, Dean? Don’t like hearing me say Sammy?”

“I’m gonna rip your lungs out!”

Henriksen steps right up to the cell, close enough that his nose brushes against the bars. “Give it your best shot.”

POP-POP-POP from the other room has Henriksen whirling towards the door, hand dropping to his hip and scrambling at his holster. The doorknob starts to turn as Henriksen draws his gun.

Then drops it when arms reach out of the cell at his back, one catching his throat in the crook of an elbow and the other pulling it tight. The door opens, and Sam is there, the light behind him looking like a cloak of flames. He points a stolen sheriff’s gun at Henriksen while Henriksen claws at the arms cutting off his air.

The last thing Henriksen hears before he passes out is Dean whispering, “You should have come alone. We might have let you live.”

⛓

Henriksen wakes to blaring music and a flashlight shining in his eyes.

“Rise and shine, Vicky. Time’s a-wastin.” Dean flips the light off.

Henriksen blinks at the sudden darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He’s locked to cell bars, arms cuffed behind his back and chains around his neck and waist. Dean’s lounging against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Where’s Sam?”

Dean laughs. “He likes to pretend he hates Asia.”

“And Matt’s head?”

“Deal was, come alone if you want it back. You didn’t. We’re keeping it.” Dean sighs. “Y’know, we’re kinda gonna miss you.”

“Don’t worry. There’ll be a new agent on your trail tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Vicky. That really cheers me up.”

Henriksen nods. “So what now?”

“Well, like I said. I’m gonna rip your lungs out.”

☠️

Dean’s standing in a pool of blood, admiring his handiwork, when Sam comes back from raiding the weapons locker.

“Messy,” Sam says.

“Mmmm.” Dean threads a bloody hand through Sam’s hair, pulls him down for a biting kiss. “You like it messy.”

“I like you messy.” Sam leans around Dean, inspects the body still chained to the bars. “You did that bare-handed?”

“Yup.” Dean pops the p with a smirk.

Sam pouts. “And you didn’t wait for me?”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Sam doesn’t answer.

“You can choose the next one, and how we do it.”

Sam still doesn’t answer.

Dean sighs. “And I’ll eat a non-potato vegetable with dinner.”

“What else?”

“What else what?”

“What else will you eat tonight?”

Dean grins. “You. Until you come, baby brother.”

Sam smiles.

The sheriff’s office explodes behind them when they leave.

⚰

(masterpost)

#currently thinking of henriksen #wincest #serial killer au #serial killer dean #serial killer sam #well that's the end of this fic #it's been a ride #thanks to everyone for hanging in there with me #fun fact #'jus in bello' aired on 2-21-2008 #which made it fit the timeline of this fic perfectly #when i saw that #i knew where this fic would end

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royalminari · 4 years

Text

Tsuki Ga Kirei Desu Ne - Prologue (3-Mix)

Jihyo sat at her desk reading a magazine as her students took a test. The cover for the magazine she was reading had her best friend of twenty-seven years, Im Nayeon, plastered on it wearing a simple outfit next to a fence with some flowers while holding an ice cream bar. Although Jihyo would never say this to Nayeon’s face, in fear of inflating her ego even further, the older woman was gorgeous and pulled off even the simplest of outfits. All of a sudden, the silence was broken by one of Jihyo’s students. “Professor Park...” “Yes, Mr. Jung?” Jihyo asked, putting the magazine down. “Was your Mother a beaver, cause damn~.” Kai flirted. The young professor let out a tired sigh seeing as this wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, time a student has flirted with her. “That’s highly inappropriate Mr. Jung and if you flirt with me again, I’ll have to write you up for expulsion. That goes for everyone else as well, I won’t hesitate to write any of you up for flirting with me.” Jihyo spoke in a stern voice and was about to go back to reading her magazine when another student spoke up. “Professor Park...” “Mr. Kang, this is a test that will count towards your grade for this semester, focus.” “But Professor Park, I’m suffering from a vitamin deficiency that effects my ability to focus...” Concerned, Jihyo picked up her phone and stood to her feet. “Oh no... I can text Mr. Kim to run to the store to grab an orange juice for you, Mr. Kang...” “A-Ah, that won’t be necessary... Besides, the vitamin deficiency I have is a vitamin U deficiency~.” “I see~...” Jihyo chuckled dryly before looking at Taehyun with a straight face. “Get out of my classroom, now.” The furious professor demanded, calmly, scaring the young man. “Y-Yes, ma’am...” Taehyun stuttered, scrambling out of his seat and practically ran out of the classroom.

On his way out, he nearly bumped into a tall woman dressed in all black with her hair in a ponytail and rounded glasses on. “Yah! Be mindful of your surroundings next time, please? You nearly knocked me over.” “S-Sorry ma’am...” The young man stammered before taking off again. “I swear, college kids, they get weirder and weirder every year...” The woman muttered to herself as she entered Jihyo’s classroom without knocking. “Hey asshole, you forgot your lunch...” “Jeongyeon, how many times do I have to tell you, not in front of my class.” Jihyo scolded her best friend of twenty-seven years, Yoo Jeongyeon, and the taller woman ignored her. “Anyway, take your damn lunch, I had to stop writing because of you...” “You didn’t need to bring it, I could’ve went out and brought another lunch.” “No, I took time out of my job to make you this lunch, I was not going to let you waste it...” “I could’ve eaten it later or had it for lunch tomorrow.” “No...” Jihyo grumbled lowly and snatched the bag from Jeongyeon’s hands. “Give me the damn lunch!” The younger girl whisper-shouted at her friend making the older girl smirk. “Good... If you need me, don’t call me, I won’t answer...” Jeongyeon said before turning on her heels and walking out of the classroom. “Aye, yo, Prof Park! Your girlfriend is fine as fuck, just like you Prof~! If y’all were transformers, y’all would be Optimus Fine~!” Jihyo rubbed her temple then looked at Jisung. “Mr. Park, leave my class before I lose it...” “I just wanted to-” “I said get out, Mr. Park!” Jihyo snapped and everyone flinched in fear. “Y-Yes, ma’am... S-Sorry, ma’am...” Jisung trembled in fear before running out the room, barely avoiding the literature teacher Professor Kim Namjoon. “S-Sorry, sir...” Jisung apologized quickly before running off again making Namjoon shake his head. “Mr. Kim, what brings you here?” Jihyo asked, taking a seat at her desk. “I’m here to drop off some important documents...” The literature Professor stated, walking into the classroom and placing the stack of documents on to her desk. “Thank you, Mr. Kim, I’ll have these done as soon as possible.” The older male nodded and hummed in acknowledgement. The male went to speak up about what was on his mind when he noticed a few students staring at them intensely. “Yah. Mind your own business instead of listening to us talk, this is why most of you are flunking your classes.” Namjoon said, flustering the students and making them go back to working. “That wasn’t necessary.” “Eh, college kids are annoying...” Jihyo let out a dry chuckle. “You’re right about that.” Namjoon put his hands in his pockets and looked at the younger woman. “I see you’re still dealing with flirty students.” Namjoon joked and Jihyo sighed. “Stupid horny college students looking for their next lay, nothing I can’t handle.” “Hmm... If it gets out of hand, tell chief. Ok?” “Thank you for your concern, Namjoon-ssi.” Namjoon softly tapped Jihyo’s desk before turning around and leaving the room. Jihyo silently buried her face in her hands. “God, why?” She muttered to herself.

After a long day at work, Jihyo tiredly made her way through the front door of her shared house. “Oh, you’re home, great...” Jeongyeon commented dryly from the couch and she stood to her feet, grabbing her laptop and coffee, and walked out of the living room to go to her home office. Jihyo closed the door behind her and took off her shoes before walking to her room, passing dozens of pictures of the trio together over the years on her way. Once alone in her room, Jihyo slammed her room door and sighed before doing the paperwork Namjoon gave her at her desk. Two hours and a half into filling out documents, Jihyo heard the front door slam open and a shout of “the sexy one has arrived, peasants” which indicated Nayeon entering the house. The front door was quickly slammed shut and Jihyo heard rapid footsteps getting close to her room and her room door was slammed open making Jihyo grip her pen tightly as her eyes widen in shock. “Sup fucker, did ya miss me~?” Nayeon asked, walking into the younger woman’s room and sat on her bed making Jihyo sigh. “What’re you doing with your life, Nayeonie?” Jihyo asked and continued filling out the documents. “Hm, let’s see~. Modeling, getting laid, going to parties, drinking and maintaining my beauty~. What’re you doing with your life, hm?” The younger woman ran a hand through her short hair in frustration. “You’re annoying, you know that?” “Only to people I’m close with~.” Nayeon shrugged, laying on Jihyo’s bed and watching her closely from up-side down. “What’cha doing, Hyo-ssi~?” “Working hard, something you’re not familiar with.” “Wow, ok, asshole...” Nayeon muttered then smirked evilly before banging on the wall that separated Jeongyeon’s office from Jihyo’s room. “Yah, what the fuck, Nayeon!” Jihyo shouted, standing to her feet to stop the older woman. “Can you fucking not?!” Jeongyeon shouted, bursting into the room and glared at her senior. “You... Are you fucking crazy, why the fuck are you banging on the damn wall like an idiot?!” “Cause I wanted your attention, Daddy~.” Nayeon smirked as the younger woman’s face turned red in pure rage. “I’m trying to work, idiot!” “Do I look like I care?” “You’ll fucking care when I fucking strangle you!” “Ooo, kinky~. Didn’t take you for the type to be into choking, Jeong~.” “That’s fucking it, you’re dead meat!” Jeongyeon pounced on Nayeon and they fell off Jihyo’s bed. Jihyo looked over and saw Jeongyeon with her hands wrapped around Nayeon’s neck as Nayeon clawed at the younger girls hands. “Y-Yah! D-Don’t make my room a damn crime scene, get the hell out!” Jihyo panicked, trying to pry Jeongyeon off Nayeon.

A/N: I know I made them different from how they actually are but it’ll make sense in the future.

#twice #nayeon #jeongyeon #jihyo #3-mix #fluff #3-mix fluff #twice childhood friend au

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icecream-and-gadreel · 7 years

Text

Flowers

Summary: A man comes into your flower shop sweating and out of breath, demanding a bouquet of flowers.

Pairing: Office worker!DeanxFlorist!reader

Rating: pg

Warnings: Language...maybe?

Word count: 2000+

A/N: From the Archives, this story is so fluffy I wanna die.

“I need flowers.”

The man damn near screams it. You stare wide-eyed, your fingers still gently clenching a rose's leaf. The man is breathing hard; his suit is a mess and his forehead in coated in sweat. Digging in his pocket, he sets out a few twenty dollar bills, gesturing to you with wide eyes.

“I...I need a bundle of..flowers..”

He stutters over his words, his face sinking into a frown when you don't respond.

“Miss?” he mumbles, gulping thick.

You shake away the initial shock. “Yes – sorry you said you need a bouquet?” You smile at him, wiping your hands on your apron and making your way to the counter. He huffs, swiping a hand over his face and nodding. It must be for his girlfriend.

“Yeah, bouquet, just really pretty flowers,” he grunts. You stare around your store and rest your hands on your hips, humming under your breath as you look for your prettiest flowers. He shifts impatiently In his place, following your gaze. “Those. The blue ones are perfect.”

“Does your girlfriend have allergies?” you ask, picking up a bundle of the blue flowers and searching for wrapping paper. You settle on metallic gold, gently bundling the flowers and glancing at him over your shoulder.

“Girlfriend?”

You smile and hand him the bouquet. “I just assumed it was for a girlfriend,” you chuckle. He gulps down and stares at the flowers, shaking his head. “Regardless, that'll be ten-ninety-five, sir,” you say. He gestures to the twenties on your counter before zooming out, hustling out of the store with his eyes locked on the flowers.

–

“I need flowers.”

Again, in that ruffled up suit, the green-eyed-man stands in front of your counter with his chest heaving, coated in sweat. You frown, reluctantly making your way to the counter and smiling.

“Pretty ones again?” you chuckle. He nods eagerly, digging in his pocket. You shake your head and show him the twenties he left the day before. “I owe you about forty dollars.”

“Oh – crap I'm sorry –”

“If you plan on coming in again, you can open a balance,” you say. He huffs, nodding reluctantly.

“She liked the blue ones. Sneezed a lot though. Maybe some classics, roses?”

So there was a girl. Probably a wife. You glance down, chewing your lip. Yup. He's wearing a ring. You point your thumb to the wall of roses behind you.

“What color?” you ask. He tilts his head up, a focused gaze on his face.

“What's your favorite?” he asks in a near whisper, turning his eyes back to you.

“People generally favor pink –”

“But what's your favorite?” he chuckles. Furrowing your brow, you turn to the wall, gliding your eyes over the array of colors. Before you can answer, he clears his throat. “You said pink, let's do pink.”

“Pink it is.”

Again, just as the day before, he zooms out of your flower shop, leaving the scent of his warm cologne in his wake.

–

“I need –”

“Flowers,” you finish with a chuckle, resting your hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow. A big, bright smile spreads across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes and taking your breath away.

“Yeah. She liked the roses. But apparently pink isn't her color,” he says, shrugging and leaning against the counter. “I was thinking about an Asiatic lily.”

“Have you been practicing your flowers, sir?” you giggle. He smirks and throws a hand up.

“I thought I'd try. Maybe red ones?” he says.

“Well, that would work, but you said pollen was an issue for her,” you say as you pick an Asiatic lily from a vase. “This --” You gesture a piece of pollen. -- “Is pollen. She'll be sneezing all day.” He leans forward, his lips parted and his eyes wide.

“Can't have that can we?” he chuckles, gently running his finger over the petal before meeting your gaze. “What has less pollen, isn't pink, and is really pretty?”

You smile, turning to your peonies. “These.”

“Perfect.” After you wrap up the flowers you hand them to him, tallying off more of his balance and smiling. He turns to leave, pausing in his tracks and turning to you. “Thanks...what's your name?”

“Y/N,” you say. He smiles, waving slightly.

“Dean. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Same time, same place.” You wave as he leaves, watching as he jogs down the street.

–

Dean rushes into the shop, a small smile on his face as he approaches you. Still sweating, still out of breath, but he seems much more relaxed than before.

“She doesn't like the way peonies smell –”

“Mark my word, we will find her flower!” you say. He gives you a taken aback look, stifling his laughter as you search around. Peonies are out. Roses are out. Lilies are out. You pause on red tulips and smile.

“Those?”

“These,” you concur, picking out white wrapping paper and a bundle of the flowers. This time, just as a little extra flare, you tie a blue bow around the stems, handing the bouquet to him with a proud look. Dean brings the flowers to his nose and inhales, his eyes lighting up as the smell fills his nose. “If she doesn't like these ones, I give up,” you chuckle. He opens his mouth to talk but you turn away from him before he can speak. You pick out a few yellow tulips, pushing them into the bouquet sporadically. “A little...poof.”

“A little poof." He hums, smiling and locking his eyes on yours. “I'm gonna have to use that,” he says. You say your goodbyes and as always, you watch him jog off.

–

It's been almost a week since Dean came into the shop. Yay, you actually found his wives favorite flower. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss watching him run into your store every morning. You hand a customer change, turning to the shop's phone as it rings. Pulling it off the hook, you rest it between your head and shoulder.

“Hidden garden, Y/N speaking.”

“Great, it is you,” Dean's familiar voice makes you perk right up, your stomach flipping as he speaks. “You did it. She loved the tulips. I want four dozen.”

“You coulda just came in and got them,” you say, laughing awkwardly.

“I need them done by the time I get there,” he says. You sigh, nodding and mumbling a goodbye before gently setting the phone on the hook.

…...........

Half an hour later, he's running through the door, smiling at the assembled tulips in front of him and taking two bouquets in his hands. Dean meets your gaze, tensing his jaw.

“Can you help me?” he asks. You nod silently, taking two bouquets in your arms and walking them out to the car. After setting them in the backseat, you head toward your store, pausing when he pats your shoulder. “I might need help when I get there,” he mumbles, staring at the ground and shifting his feet. “I want to surprise her,” he adds. Even if the thought of delivering his wife flowers makes you want to scream, you smile, nodding and sinking into the passenger seat. The majority of the ride is awkward eye contact and classic rock. You barely realize where you are before it's too late.

“Wait –”

“We're on the second floor,” he says, picking up two bouquets and rushing into the hospital. You gulp, forcing yourself to follow him. If things weren't awkward already, this was taking the cake.

“Mr. Winchester,” a nurse squeals, standing from her desk and waving frantically. “She's been talking about you all morning,” she says, pausing and flicking her eyes to you and twitching a smile.

“I got stuck in a meeting, would've been here sooner,” he says. When you both arrive in front of a door, he turns to you, smiling warmly and sighing. “Thanks for doing this,” he breathes. You nod, smiling in an attempt to hide the fact that you're melting. He slowly pushes open the door, a widesmile breaking across his face. “There's my girl,” he cooes.

“Uncle D!” a little girl squeals and sprints up to him, giggling as he swoops her in his arms.

“It took you long enough.”

You turn your head to the source of the voice, staring down at the hazel-eyed man.

“Shut up, I got stuck in a meeting. Hows my girl doing?” Dean cooes, peppering her cheek with kisses.

“I'm going home tomorrow uncle D!” she squeals. She halts when she sees you, giving you a toothy grin. “I'm Delilah!”

“Delilah?” you say, a grin on your face. You offer her a bouquet and her eyes go wide, her smile tugging at her cheeks. “These are all for you.”

“REALLY?” Delilah takes the flowers from you and snuggles them close, turning her eyes to Dean. “Thank you!”

“No problem,” he chuckles, turning his eyes to you. “She wanted to meet the woman who guessed her favorite flower,” he says. You giggle, throwing your arms up.

“You didn't make it easy –”

“Are you uncle D's girlfriend?” she blurts. You suck in a breath before stammering over your words. You stop when Dean bursts out laughing, shaking his head and pecking her on the cheek.

“Stop tryna set me up, 'Lilah,” he chuckles.

…............

You stayed with Dean and his family all day, telling terrible jokes and explaining various flowers to her. At the end of the day, Dean tucked her in, sitting by her bed. After sitting silently for many moments, you finally have the courage to ask.

“So, you never bring your wife flowers?” you say, clearing your throat and shifting in your seat. Dean frowns, turning his gaze to you.

“I don't have a wife.”

“Oh...husband?”

“Nope. Single,” he chuckles. You focus on the ring on his finger and he follows your gaze, huffing. “Oh..no...this was my moms,” he says, twisting the ring around his finger. “She's uh...not here anymore.”

“Oh god, I'm sorry –”

“Hey, don't be.” He sighs contently, leaning back in his seat. “It was hard but...at some point you remember how to live again,” he says, smiling and gesturing to Delilah. “She's a dead ringer for my mom. Just as picky too,” he adds. You smile at her, noting the blonde locks framing her face. “Thank you for coming.”

“You don't have to keep thanking me.”

“Well I'm gonna,” he chuckles. You smile, locking your eyes with his and nodding.

“You're welcome.”

–

“I need flowers.”

You frown, turning to Dean and resting your hands on your hips. No sweat this time, and his chest isn't heaving. Instead of waiting for you to respond, he points to the wall behind you.

“Some of those pink ones,” he says. “And some 'poof',” he adds. You chuckle, picking out a dozen flowers and bundling them up. Offering them to him, you cock an eyebrow.

“I thought she was already out,” you say. He nods, staring down at the bouquet. “Oh...they aren't for her?” you mumble, frowning when you get a nod. “Then...” your voice trails off as he offers the flowers to you, your heart pounding against your chest as you try to hide your smile.

“For you.”

#deanxreader #supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #my writing #dean au #writing #spn writing #fanfic #fan fic

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mama-ghostie-61542 · 6 years

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The Hamato Chronicles Ch. 3

Rated M for Mature--Contains disturbing images, racial slurs, and images of war. PTSD trigger WARNING

If ya recognize it, it ain't mine.

Ch 3

Leo POV

After lunch, which was Marlowe’s mac and cheese, we decided to watch a movie. As per normal, Mikey wanted a horror flick, Raph wanted action, and Donnie wanted a documentary. But, we all agreed to let Lowe pick.

She held up The Princess Bride and started laughing so hard she was almost crying. Our brothers smiled and put the movie in.

Marlowe, propped herself on the back of the couch and said to Dad, “Hey Pop. ‘What about the ROUS’?”

Father smiled and leaned against the door frame. “’Rodents of unusual size?’ Hmm,” he said as he played with his tail, twirling it like a chain. “’I don’t think they exist.’”

After the previews, we heard Sensai yell, “’Everybody move!’”

We scrambled to get out of the way. Dad vaulted over the back of the couch and landed next to Marlowe, who hadn’t moved an inch. He settled in to watch the movie with a smile. We all watched as they would laugh about things like they were inside jokes.

Supper was pizza. We had a ball. The banter between all six of us was music to my ears. It was like an important instrument was missing from our little symphony. One by one, we went off to bed. At 3 am, when I got up to go pee, Marlowe was just laying down.

Don’s POV

I was woken up by a muffled scream at 4am. I met Father at the door to the lab. He seemed just as shaken as I was. The scream was most definitely female, so we knew it could only be Marlowe. The two of us ran into her room to see her thrashing on her bed and shrieking ‘NO’ and ‘Joey’. Occasionally, Marlowe would gag and we’d have to roll her to her side.

“Marlowe, you need to wake up,” my father whispered in his panic as he was petting her face.

I was whispering to her the entire time, “Come on, Sissy, wake up.” But it seemed to go on for hours. It was only maybe a minute but it sure felt like more. When her eyes finally fluttered open, she looked like she was going to hurl, so I grabbed her trash can and thrust it under her face. I was just in time. When she was finally finished, she slumped back on her pillows and sobbed. It kills me to see my strong big sister hurting like this.

Marlowe’s POV

I had gone to bed that night, after having a late night brawl with my survivor’s guilt and almost a whole pot of coffee. Suddenly, I was in the middle of another nightmare.

My world was a little fuzzy. I remember this place. This is where we were when our Gunny said to shoot those kids. Suddenly, I felt myself being thrown around and then Joey was in my lap asking me to watch over his little sister. There was so much blood. I tried to hold it all in. I knew what was coming next. Joey bled to death while we waited for the medics. I can still hear the blast coming. I can still feel the heat of the truck as he was blown next to me. I can still feel the hot of his blood on me, can still smell it. Even after the last 6 months it still makes me gag.

I woke up to Donnie holding up a trashcan for me, which I promptly heaved into. Pop was next to me, gently rubbing my back. After empting my stomach of the last two days of its contents, I started sobbing.

My father whispered, “Marlowe, what happened out there?”

“Dad, I only want to tell this story once,” I somehow managed to croak out, “so you had better get everyone up and here.”

Without us knowing it, Leo had gotten up and was standing outside the door. He went to get our other two brothers up while Don called April and Casey. In a half hour, April and Casey walked into the lair.

Donnie handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Double D,” I said hoarsely.

Raph wrapped the couch blanket around my shoulders a few minutes later. “Are you sure you don’t need this, Squeaks? It’s kinda cold.”

He smiled and said softly, “And I’m not tha one shakin’, Marlowe Jean.”

I looked up to see Mikey squirming on the rug. “Angel, go.”

“But I need to be here for you, Lowe.”

“Just go!”

Mikey grumbled as he got up and stalked off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Marlowe shaking her head. She looked up at April and Casey, “You guys have siblings?”

April said, “No,” while Casey just shook his head.

“I’m going to tell you two the unspoken sibling code,” Marlowe said as she started to tick them off one by one on her fingers. “One, I may love you to bits and pieces, but I am not required to like you. Two, I can beat you up whenever I want, but if someone so much as looks at you in a fashion I don’t approve of, I will kill them. Three, I reserve the right to despise whoever you settle with as no one will ever be good enough. And four, I also reserve the right to spoil any and all of your progeny to the point of rottenness and far beyond, stopping just short of sociopath.”

April and Casey sat stock still, for nearly a whole minute. Then Marlowe smiled and they started laughing.

After hearing Marlowe call the boys by their childhood nicknames a few times, Casey had to ask where they came from, “So about these nick names?”

Marlowe laughed, “I couldn’t say names or features when I was in BASIC or OJT. Uncle Sam likes to read the recruits letters from home and listen in on their phone calls. So, Uncle Pete and I worked out a system where we would use something from when the boys were little as a code name for each of them. When Leo was little, he was really accident prone and had an awesome speech impediment. He couldn’t say ‘Fell’ so it was kabong or kaboom. I started calling him El KaBong in my letters home. Raph was two when he finally started talking.”

Casey grinned, “And now he never shuts-up.”

“Watch it, Jones. He’s is still my little brother and I am still a Marine,” I replied, hotly, as I leveled a glare at the hockey mask wearing vigilante. “Anyway, he’d get so upset he would scream at the top of his lungs for quite a while if you didn’t immediately understand what he was meaning. He would get this squeaky, hoarse voice after throwing those fits. So, when I had to think of a code word for Raph, Squeaks came to mind. Sometimes, if he is exhausted or really sick, I can get away with ‘Squeaker’, but I don’t push it. Donnie had a huge independent streak when he was two. Every time we’d ask if he needed help his answer was always, “NO! Don-Don do!” In my letters home I shortened it to DD or Double D. Mikey has always been Angel. Guess that’s just the big sister thing. I mean, they are all my angels, but he’s always been my Angel.”

Everyone gathered on the couches in the living room, waiting for me to tell them what happened in Afghanistan. Raph sat one side of me, his arm around my shoulders in an attempt to calm the tremors that still wracked my body, while Don was on the other, holding my hand, secretly keeping an eye on my pulse.

My father sat down across from me, “What happened in Afghanistan, Marlowe.”

“I was out with my squad and my SSgt’s Gunny; a guy by the name of Johnson. He was a bastard; called me a ‘prairie squaw’ to my face quite a few times. Anyway, we were doing a patrol in this tiny little town, the kind where one well serves 6 or 8 houses. There were some kids outside, playing with water guns. I remember this one was mutagen green and neon blue. It was obvious they were just playing in the water when they would stop and fill their soakers back up. This Gunny ordered us to ‘Shoot those damned kids’. All four of us were floored. Caitie looked at him and asked, ‘Whaa’. She wasn’t sure she heard him right. Then he yelled, ‘I order you to shoot those damned towelheads in training. Nits make lice. Bet you’d know all about that wouldn’t you, Hamato’. I about lost it. I looked at him and said, ‘Sir, with all due respect, I respectfully decline to follow that order.” He started screaming at me; called me everything but an American Marine. Then he sent me back behind the lines. I was put on temporary restriction for two days and the paperwork for my discharge was started over my wording. There was a guy working supply for quartermaster company, Joey Loveland, who gave me a ride to regional. We were a few miles away from our destination when he yelled ‘Shit’ and threw me out of the cab of that deuce and a half. He was right behind me. He landed right next to me. I can still feel the heat of the blast; can still taste the sand and dust it kicked up. But most of all, I can still feel Joey’s blood on my hands and hear his screaming,” I paused and took a breath as tears ran down my face. “I can still hear him asking me to watch over his little sister.”

“I sat there, trying to keep him alive while screaming through the satellite phone for a medic when he said to stop. He said he knew he wasn’t going to make it, just asked me to take care of Brynnie for him. He died in my arms. Medics finally got there 10 minutes later, but by then I was in shock. I was sedated for three days because I kept trying to scrub his blood off when it was already gone. When I finally came out of it, my Staff Sargent was there and he told me that JAG wanted to talk to me. Turns out, my girls complained. There was no way to stop my discharge but that Gunny got in some big trouble. Come to find out, I had been put in for Staff Sargent half a dozen times when there was a slot and I had the points, but that Gunny kept turning it down. He kept saying that I wasn’t ready for the responsibility. Mind, I had been a Sargent for years, had all my points, was never flagged, and had never failed a PT test. It all boiled down to my gender and skin color.

When I got back to San Diego, I was in pretty bad shape. I couldn’t eat or sleep; I got put into inpatient observation at a VA Hospital there. A week later, I was transferred to a VA hospital in Pierre, South Dakota. Saw at least three Docs there. No one bothered to look at my address on record. It took me almost four months to get them to transfer me to a caseworker in the Bronx. After that fight, I had another month before I could see a Doc about my anxiety; that was more pills. I was lucky that Caitie got out right after me; she let me bunk with her until I found you guys again.

That was a complete stroke of luck. I was headed down into the tunnels on Humboldt and Sherman when I ran into O’Neil. I recognized her from the photos you guys emailed me. She asked how long I’d been home for. Told her I’d been looking for you guys for the better part of a month. She told me she would have you guys come here for a few nights the next week. Then she gave me the number to Pop’s cell. First thing I did when I got back to Cait’s was to lock myself in the bathroom and call dad.”

A/N-- Exact same version on ffn.

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt splinter #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt april #tmnt casey jones #the hamato chronicles

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