#you would forgive me for utterly phoning it in on this prompt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sesamestreep · 3 months

Text

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 6

Write about a blackout (from this list) ➸ totally cheating once again and using this as a one-word prompt instead of probably how it was intended??? oh well. have some canon-verse angst and I’m sorry…

“Do you want to know the stupidest part?”

Foggy looks over at Matt, who’s hunched over his drink like someone might steal it from him. Then again, the fake IDs that got them into this bar were honestly not the highest quality, so it’s not an entirely baseless fear.

“Granted you’ve told me like three details total about what happened between you and Elektra, I will take any additional information you want to divulge, stupid or otherwise.”

Matt blinks at him with hollow eyes. “You just said a lot of words to me.”

Foggy sighs. “What’s the stupidest part, Matt?”

“I thought—it’s just—you’re going to think I’m a moron.”

“I won’t,” Foggy says, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. “I think you’re extremely smart, buddy. You might be the smartest person I know, okay? Just tell me. I promise I won’t judge.”

Matt looks so utterly fragile and lost in that moment that Foggy honestly doesn’t want to hear what’s going to come out of his mouth next, because he just knows it will break his heart. It’s been hard seeing Matt in such bad shape and to know almost nothing about what happened between him and his girlfriend after he’d disappeared with her for two weeks. Foggy had been a wreck about it, beside himself with worry and yet without a legitimate reason to excuse himself from classes and responsibilities, so he’d walked around for those two weeks like a shell, keeping up appearances, until Matt came back. His relief at his reappearance was quickly replaced by a new kind of worry, when he saw how miserable and unstable Matt was in the wake of…whatever happened. Matt still couldn’t be induced by any means to give Foggy a straight answer on that count.

“I thought I was going to marry her,” Matt says, quietly. If Foggy hadn’t been actively trying to hear him, that statement would have been lost to the noise of the bar.

“That’s not stupid at all,” Foggy says, allowing the hand on Matt’s shoulder to slip over to rub his back between his shoulder blades.

“I thought she was my soulmate,” Matt adds, with some vitriol, in the direction of his drink, like he wants to spit the words in there to drown them.

“She wasn’t,” Foggy replies, firmly, because it seems like the right thing to say up until Matt’s face crumples.

“I think she was,” he says, miserably, as he buries his face in his hands. “I think she was and she left anyway and that’s it for me.”

“I don’t—hey, listen, Matt,” Foggy says, shifting his chair over so he can wrap his arms around Matt’s shoulders completely. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I said she—I didn’t know her that well. Maybe she was your soulmate. I don’t know! I’m not convinced that’s anything but a nice story we like to tell ourselves to make life more bearable or to impose meaning on random events.”

“This pep talk sucks,” Matt says, in the vicinity of Foggy’s collar. Foggy can feel his breath on his neck and it’s weird but not enough to get him to move away.

“Sorry. What I mean to say is, if soulmates are real, and Elektra was yours, then it’s not over yet. Maybe you’ll meet again someday.”

“I hope not,” Matt says, darkly.

Foggy resists the urge to roll his eyes at yet another vague but still concerning allusion to this terrible breakup. He’s trying to be sympathetic but Matt’s whole Catholic guilt lone wolf shit does test him sometimes, if he’s being honest. Still, one look at Matt’s pale, sorrowful face in the neon lights of this dive bar is enough to remind Foggy what they’re doing here.

“I think it’s much more likely that, if we have soulmates at all, we probably get more than one,” Foggy continues, hoping that if he just muses vaguely enough, he’ll stumble on something that makes Matt feel better. “So, you’ll get another chance to—”

“You mean like you and me?” Matt asks, and Foggy’s brain does a full factory reset as he tries to parse that question. He can’t possibly mean…

“Oh, like—yeah, you and me and, well, everybody could have more than one soulmate. Exactly.”

“No, that’s not—” Matt shakes his head, which, given his current position, is functionally just nuzzling his face into Foggy’s neck. “I mean, how you and me are soulmates. Kind of.”

“You and me?” Foggy asks, casually despite not feeling casual at all. “You think so?”

“You’re—yeah. I mean, you’re basically—you’re family to me but…also more than that. If that makes sense.”

It doesn’t and Foggy’s been holding himself back from drinking too much tonight because he wants to be able to get Matt home safely, but he does feel like he might throw up on this table right now. He tucked away the part of him that found Matt attractive somewhere deep and secret and well-fortified in his soul a long time ago, in the interest of not fucking things up with his best friend in the entire world, and he certainly can’t trust anything Matt says now when he’s drunk and lonely and heartbroken. But he’s never loved anyone as completely as he loves Matt and it’s such a pathetic, hopeless situation that he doesn’t let himself think about it except on really special occasions when he wants to feel bad.

“I’m not sure anybody has ever loved me as much as you do,” Matt says, like it’s not a crazy thing to say, here in a shitty bar near campus, after a breakup with his girlfriend, to someone he’s never even kissed.

“I doubt that,” Foggy says, even as he, selfishly, wants to claim it, even as he knows it to be true. “You’re very lovable.”

“We should get married.”

Foggy laughs, because what else can he do, under the circumstances. “Now? It’s pretty late. The courthouse won’t even be open.”

“No, I mean, we should get married someday,” Matt says, petulant like Foggy’s the one being ridiculous here for not following his thought process. “When we’re older. If we haven’t met anybody else.”

That last condition is enough to break Foggy’s heart all over again, but he does an admirable job hiding it, he thinks. Matt’s drunk and very distracted, and more importantly doesn’t know anything about how Foggy feels, really, despite his proclamations on the subject a moment ago, so it feels safe to assume he won’t notice any signs of disappointment or hurt in this split second before Foggy swallows those feelings and pretends to be his usual upbeat self. That’s who Matt really needs right now, and so that’s who he’ll be.

“How much older?” Foggy asks.

“Old,” Matt says. “Like, thirty.”

“Okay,” Foggy nods, already able to find this funny. Matt won’t still be single by the time they’re both thirty. He’ll be married by the time they graduate law school, most likely, so it won’t be an issue. Foggy doesn’t like to think about it, but he knows it’s true.

“You’ll do it?”

“Maybe,” Foggy says. “Ask me again when you’re not blackout drunk.”

“I’m fine,” Matt objects. “I’m not blackout. Not even close.”

“Then we can pick this conversation up in the morning, no problem!”

Matt nods, drunkenly. “Absolutely.”

Matt doesn’t bring it up in the morning, of course. Foggy never really expected he would, either, and doesn’t permit himself to be disappointed about it, no matter how much he would like to.

#I used the word ‘blackout’ here and therefore I have fulfilled the prompt #if you knew how many versions of this I wrote and then threw out and then started over #you would forgive me for utterly phoning it in on this prompt #anyway #finished is better than perfect so….#HWS30days #30 days challenge #writing challenge #homelywenchsociety #that’s my writing tag! don’t worry about it!#…….sigh I really want to trash this in the tags but that’s not allowed #slowly killing the perfectionist in my brain by churning out absolutely MID prompt fills like this #mattfoggy #matt murdock #foggy nelson #daredevil #idk idk idk I’m going to listen to a podcast by which I mean fall asleep to a podcast #bye

21 notes · View notes

miniimight · 6 months

Text

DISAPPEARING ACT . rindou often disappears for weeks at a time, showing up at home as if it's nothing. a brief exchange triggers a factory reset in him, but you're not as open to it as he expected you to be...

prompt used "better than me disappearing for good. / is it?"

with married!rindou + fem!reader

warnings cursing. a lot of cursing. angst? rindou is an idiot and possessive.

you never got to see your husband anymore. so much so that you considered the chance of it happening next to nothing. you knew what you were getting into being in an relationships with him; lots of meetings and flights to other cities all meant extended time away from home.

you would've been a little more forgiving had he chosen to tell you these things. but no. morning after morning, you wake up to him gone without a trace, without consideration for how you feel. was he alive? was he with someone else? did he not care enough to call or even send a text?

it was as if you lived alone, and a stranger crashed at your place every once in a while. and while you shared polite exchanges, no amount of small talk could overshadow how bleak your marriage was.

it was eleven days before he showed up again. you were, surprisingly, awake when he returned. he was perfectly groomed, albeit a little jaded, but still regarded you with the same coldness you endured since he started leaving. you missed the warmth of your younger days, where he would hold you close and reassure you that you were meant for each other for life.

you decided today was as good a day as any. heck, he even might be gone tomorrow and it would be like you didn't say anything.

"i'm tired of you disappearing for days and then coming back like it was nothing." you said plainly.

he slipped out of his shoes, looking down at you. rolling his eyes lightly but sighing heavily, he started to pull off his tie. "better than me disappearing for good."

a wry smile spread on your face. oh, if he only knew. "is it?"

those two words sent an arrow straight through his heart.

rindou was silent, pretending as if he didn't hear what you just said. but when you scoffed and walked away, he knew it was too real for him to overlook.

"you don't mean that." it was less of a question and more of a please, don't mean it.

you shrugged and went back to your phone, too benumbed to even look at him.

he stared at you, utterly confused as to how to tackle this. "y/n." he said firmly.

you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes, void of any care. "what?"

"i said, you don't mean that." he stood like a tree in the middle of the living area, palms growing sweaty. he loved you. he couldn't lose you, not when you both went through so much to get here.

"don't i?" you responded, placing your phone beside you. not like i see you anymore, anyway. what's the difference?

"stop fucking talking like that and answer me." he snarled. you rolled your eyes, rising to your feet.

"look, rin. who the fuck cares what i think or say? certainly not you." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "just—just forget i said anything." you turned towards your bedroom. "goodnight."

wait. he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him, backing you against a wall. caging you with arms on either side of you, he stared into your soul, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of you.

you just stared back.

his heart clenched. yeah, he was away for weeks at a time. of course he didn't tell you. why would he? why would he burden you with that information?

"you really think me going away forever is better?" his voice was a whisper, but held the sharpness of a knife. "huh? you want me gone forever?"

you sighed. "i didn't say i wanted that. i just meant that, either way, it doesn't matter. going away forever, going away for weeks and weeks but only staying for a night..." your eyes met his, glossy but fierce. "it's the same to me. i don't care what the hell you do anymore, rindou. just let me go to bed."

he studied the person he truly loved for so long, wondering when it all went downhill.

you were impatient, ducking under his arms. "shit..." you cursed, rubbing the back of your neck as you walked away.

he watched you go. and he never saw you come back.

the next morning he woke up, expecting to see you in the kitchen or watching tv, but his house was empty.

"y/n?" he called out. no answer. he pulled up his phone. no texts, no calls. he bustled around the house, looking for some indication of where you went and he found nothing.

he called his brother, thinking that he was the next best person you would've gone to, but ran had no contact from you.

rindou sat on the couch, nothing to do but sit and wait. he looked around. everything was well-kept, pristine, and sanitized. it was like no one lived here at all. no one except a lonely spouse in an eternal cycle of wait for a husband that wouldn't even give them the time of day to say, i'm heading out.

i love you.

goodbye.

he leaned back, closing his eyes. he doesn't even say goodbye.

he hated himself for it.

hours passed and he didn't move from the couch. he knew you sat there for much longer, day after day, waiting for him. no wonder you were uncaring. coming home meant nothing if he would simply leave again.

then he heard the click of the door. he practically jumped off the couch, racing over to the entrance. he saw you with a couple groceries hooked on your forearms, struggling to keep the door open long enough for you to slip inside.

he rushed over. yanking the door open with such force, it slammed into the wall causing you to jump. rindou winced a little, steadying the door from swinging wildly.

you eyes met his and your face immediately scrunched with confusion. "what are you doing here?"

"well... it's my house..?" he said dumbly.

you pressed your lips into a line. "hm."

you expected me to be gone again, he thought bitterly. he cleared his throat. "let me help you with these," he alleviated the weight off your arms, bunching up a couple bags and carrying them all in one go. "you know, you could just order them for delivery."

you sidestepped him and walked to the kitchen. "why would i do that?"

"so you can have them brought to you from the comfort of your home." he responded lightly. following robotically, he was unsure where everything was supposed to be put away.

you laughed, catching him off-guard. on closer inspection, though, he knew that wasn't a genuine laugh. "rindou, do you think i want to stay in this place any more than i have to?"

you said it so casually, grabbing a bag from him and stocking the cabinets and fridges.

his stomach swirled with much more unease than he'd ever experienced on the job. it was the way you simply didn't care anymore, talking about the rift between you and him as if you were reciting the weather report.

fight me, he wanted to say. kick, yell at me, scream at me, do anything at all to show me you're upset. he knows he fucked up. you definitely know he fucked up. so why weren't you telling him that? why weren't you cursing him out for being a bad husband? your nonchalance came from a long time being cast aside, so much so that you expected it to happen; so much so that you gave up on him.

indifference was the final nail in the coffin of your marriage, and you were about to bang it shut.

he observed you, thinking about how many times you'd busy yourself with mundane errands to feel like you were living. how many times you'd come back to this flat, putting away shit you'd probably never touch. how many times you'd listen to the silence ringing off the walls.

he set the bags down and held your shoulders, turning you to face him. "i've taken the next few days off."

you smiled insincerely. "great."

rindou felt like a kid again, when he had work up enough courage to ask you out. "we... we could spend them together."

your eyes squinted. "why?"

he spluttered. "what do you mean, why?"

you swatted his hands off your shoulders. "god, i shouldn't have said anything," you mumbled. "rindou, this is just you feeling guilty because of what i said last night, okay?"

he frowned. "it's not."

your eyebrows raised as you rummaged through another grocery bag. "it is. don't pretend like you're gonna change. what did you think we were going to do—go out together? like old times, when we were happy and in love?"

his face burned. anyone else—if it were anyone else speaking so flippantly with him, he'd have them beat til they're unconscious. and past tense? when we were in love? his brain was doing backflips trying to find a way to salvage the situation. "yes."

you laughed that fake laugh again. it grated on his ears. "that's funny. i was just feeling a little vulnerable last night, is all. had a couple of drinks and maybe was feeling sentimental about the days when everything was simple."

rindou stepped closer to you, ripping the bag away from your hands and towering over you. "it is simple. we can—"

"we can't do anything." you curled your hands into fists, your voice trembling. "can you just..?" go away?

rindou's breath caught in his chest, fully anticipating another heartless laugh.

he hated it when you cried. he hated it when you were angry. he would do anything for your eternal happiness, he realized, and he'd been falling short of his promises for far too long.

rindou leaned onto the counter, bending at the waist. his hand rested on your waist and his eyes were laser focused on your expression, a confusing mix of frustration, sadness, and the will to remain emotionless.

"baby," he whispered.

"don't fucking call me baby." you hissed.

he pursed his lips, unwilling to compromise. "pretty baby. i don't wanna go on like this." his fingers brushed your cheek. "i don't want to you to be sad anymore."

"well, isn't that righteous." you rolled your eyes though your heart ached. it ached for him, for the boyfriend he was and the husband he promised to be.

he glared at you. "would you just listen?"

"no, rindou." you shoved him away from you, despite the overwhelming urge telling you to pull him in and hug him tight. "stop acting like i'm the one making things difficult. like you're being a fucking saint trying to bring us back together when the only reason we're like this is because of you." your voice became watery, growing in volume as you finally succumbed to all the hurt and pain inside you.

"i tried to be understanding." you sobbed. "i did. i tried. you have your work and i know that it's dangerous. but seriously—you promised you'd make time for me. you promised." you sniffed, rubbing tears off your cheeks, ranting without any goal in mind. "you don't even say goodbye."

he stood frozen, your emotions hitting him square in the face and leaving him dazed. it was like the only thing he could do was stand and watch.

"i didn't want to do this." you said tearfully. "i'm sorry i said anything, okay? i'm sorry. just—leave me alone."

his eyes narrowed. "never. i'm never leaving."

your glassy eyes shot up to meet his with a hard look of their own.

"i love you, y/n. and i'm never letting you go." he said firmly, stepping closer and closer to you. he was done beating around the bush; you should know that no matter how many times you push him away, he will never leave you. he'd make up for his mistakes; all you had to do was give him a chance.

you scoffed. "love? you love me?"

he caged you against the opposite counter with two arms on either side of you. "yeah. i do."

you stared up at him, tears staining your cheeks. "you're a liar."

"y/n." he growled—a warning.

"can't go back into the world having the poor little wife weighing on your conscious, is that it?" you snapped. "never stopped you before."

"y/n."

"no." you ducked under his arm, leaving the kitchen. you evaded his attempts to pull you back, running to the closet. grabbing a coat and your purse, you slipped on your shoes.

"where the fuck are you going?" rindou yelled after you. "this conversation isn't over."

"it is for me." you mumbled, throwing the front door open and ignoring the fire in the pit of your stomach. you got into your car and started it up. the garage opened at an agonizing pace, enough time for rindou to come bursting out the door. he stood at your window.

"y/n, you are not leaving. get out of the car."

"fuck off." you grit your teeth, your eyes raising to the rearview mirror to reverse. you screeched to a halt when you saw rindou's purple hair in the reflection. you gaped, rolling down your window and whipping your head to face him. "are you insane? move!"

he shook his head, standing in all his glory right behind the car. his arms were crossed and his weight rested on one hip; the picture of stubbornness. "you're gonna have to run me over."

you scoffed, laughing breathlessly at the absurd situation. "i'll call the police."

"you won't."

you grabbed your phone. "i will, don't try and stop me from leaving."

"you won't call the police, and you wanna know why?" rindou let his head fall to his shoulder. "you love me. i know you do."

you opened your mouth to retort.

"don't even try to deny it." he chuckled lowly. "you're just protecting yourself, baby. you're protecting yourself from the nightmare you call a husband, right?"

your eyes rounded, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

he walked to your side of the car, reaching through the opening to flick the window button. he slipped his hand out as it began to slowly slide back up.

"leave, then. just know i'm not going to stop my efforts to get you back." he smiled as he went back into the house.

the window closed completely.

you were brimming with annoyance, yet you couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache when you pulled out of the driveway, leaving your house—and rindou—behind.

this was so self-indulgent lol. i know they mean well, but when people apologize so quickly and with such intensity, i just get frustrated that i had to get to such a low point to see any remorse or change from them. and of course, i can't argue without crying my eyes out. anyway, do we want a part two?

#rindou haitani #rindou haitani x reader #rindou x reader #rindou imagines #rindou #haitani #tokyo revengers angst #rindou haitani angst #rindou angst #haitani brothers #haitani rindou #haitani rindou x reader #haitani x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten #bonten x reader #bonten rindou

2K notes · View notes

kedreeva · 2 years

Note

Eddie/Steve Sentinel AU

(My askbox is open for ST prompts!)(Previous Prompts)

For those that don't know what a Sentinel AU is, it's from a 90s TV show by the name "The Sentinel" and the wikipedia read is a lot of fun, but I'll explain it some here too, with liberties taken. Every fandom deserves a little Sentinel AU... as a treat. So when my best friend asked me... well! Enjoy!

-----

Steve wakes in a cold sweat, the overwhelming iron taste of blood in his mouth. He struggles away from the images of demobats grabbing at his flesh, of the feel of a serrated tail wrapped around his throat. He tries to shut out the memory of their shrieking, the acrid scent of them, and falls deeper into the taste of his own blood.

He’s choking on it. He’d dying.

All he can taste is the metallic tang of blood.

The thick, revolting flavor of it taking over everything else.

He cannot hear the screams, see the bats, feel them.

There’s only blood; red blood cells, softer in flavor than the white, the mild plasma that tastes almost eggy at this level.

He scrabbles for anything else, but there’s nothing.

He’d drowning. He’s dying.

He cannot get out.

He’s dying.

------

Robin knocks frantically on Steve’s front door while Eddie mills around in the garden behind her. “Steve!” she shouts, using the flat of her palm to slap faster at the door. Not as loud, so she switches back to the side of her fist. “STEVE!”

“Hey,” Eddie says, under her racket. “Key.”

She whirls and finds him holding a small stone statue of a- a snail, she thinks, and in his other hand is a small, brass key. She snatches it from his grasp and attacks the door.

“He’s gotta be home, his car’s here,” she says as she fails to get the key in the hole.

He’s gotta be here. He’s gotta be okay.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Eddie says mildly.

“Of course you would say that. You’ve skipped class and, like, jobs, and- and why can’t I open this fucking door,” she snarls, and then backs up and holds herself very still and tense for a second.

“I’m going to forgive you for that,” Eddie says with a snort, “because you’re worried.”

“Steve doesn’t skip work,” Robin tells him, and then calmly sticks out the key to the keyhole. It slides in and she twists the handle, following the door open like she’s a part of it.

She’s haring up the stairs to Steve’s room before Eddie can even cross the threshold. The door to his bedroom is open, so she bursts inside and freezes when she sees Steve in the bed. He’s lying there, eyes open and completely, utterly still. Her heart seizes up, strangling a broken sound from her before she sees him blink, and relief nearly crashes her entire system.

“You asshole!” she exclaims as she tries to relax, crossing the room to his bedside. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He doesn’t answer, or move, just continues to stare blankly up at the ceiling. She can hear Eddie climbing the stairs as she leans over Steve and touches his arm gently. He doesn’t respond at all. She pinches him, to the same effect. She pinches him harder just as Eddie peeks into the room.

“He’s- something’s wrong,” Robin says weakly.

Eddie steps in further and cranes his neck a little to peer at Steve without getting too close. “He’s breathing, right?”

“Y-… Yeah,” Robin says, after checking quickly. “It’s like he’s asleep.”

“With his eyes open.” Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe he had, like, a stroke or something? We should call an ambulance.”

“We can’t just call an ambulance,” Robin says, stricken. “If it’s… upside down shit, we can’t call a hospital. I don’t have the number for the lab, do you?”

Eddie shakes his head and then jumps, and reaches to pull a battered wallet out of his back pocket. “Actually, I might.” He extracts a tattered business card with a hand-written number on the back of it, and passes it to Robin.

She snatches it up. “Okay. I’ll call Owens. You need to call Nancy and the others, get them all over here.”

“Wait, what? Robin!” Eddie calls after her as she bolts for the nearest phone. “I don’t know Nancy’s number!”

“Then call Dustin!” she tosses over her shoulder, and heads down the stairs.

-----

“Well,” Owens says, after the latest head shake from his pet scientist, “we’re not finding any residue from the other dimension. His wounds have checked out as far as we can tell, and he’s not- he’s not braindead.”

“Well he’s clearly not okay, either!” Nancy spits venomously. Eddie’s glad he’s on this side of her ire.

“I know, I understand your frustration, but we’re going to have to do some more testing, see if we can figure out what’s wrong with him, and if any of you are at risk of something similar. Any of you felt… weird?”

“Weird!” Dustin exclaims in disbelief. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Do we feel like we might be falling into a waking coma?”

“He’s not-”

“-in a coma,” the kids all chant together, and Owens nods like he should have expected that, one hand sweeping as if they’ve just proved his point for him.

“Can we see him, at least?” Dustin asks. It sounds like a demand, but Eddie’s pretty sure he’d stay in the hall if Owens told him to. At least for now.

“Sure, kid,” Owens says, stepping aside so the group can shuffle back into the room.

Eddie lets everyone in before him, catching Robin’s eye as she passes. She looks like she’s going to be sick, and he wishes he could tell her it’s going to be okay, but he has no idea. The Upside Down had nearly taken his life last year, and the thought of facing it again still makes him feel skittish. So much for bravery, but it was fucking scary and he’d done it then and he’d probably do it again if they have to, so he thinks he deserves a break for feeling terrified at the prospect.

“Did you check his mouth?” Dustin asks from beside the bed.

“His mouth?” Owens asks, looking at his scientist, who shrugs. “No, it seems we did not check his mouth, why?”

“There’s blood,” Dustin says, pointing. Eddie leans to see, and sure enough, there’s a minuscule smudge of blood at the seam of Steve’s lips.

“There’s blood,” Owens says at his scientist, aggressively, and then gestures toward the gear they’d carried in. They’d been afraid to move Steve out of the room, not sure what it would do to him if they couldn’t tell what was happening. He turns back to the group. “It’s possible he had a seizure, maybe he bit his lip or his tongue.”

Eddie barely hears, staring at the little smear of red, the open-eyes, the slack expression. The waking coma as Dustin had called it. He’s never seen it in person, but he knows it, the haunting familiarity of it, down to his bones, down to his soul.He swallows and leans over the bed, bracing himself with one hand, and touches Steve’s cheek. No reaction at all from Steve, but the touch echoes inside of Eddie.

“What are you doing?” hisses Nancy, and Owens grabs for him but Dustin knocks his hand away.

“Eddie,” Dustin says. “You’re not thinking…?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, absently. He uses a finger to pull Steve’s chin down a little, enough to part his lips and see teeth stained in fresh blood. He hasn’t even tried to swallow any of it, to clear his mouth. “Shit.”

“Boys,” Owens says, like a question.

“You know how to test it,” Dustin ventures.

“I know, just- shut up for a minute. Everyone.”

Eddie steels himself and maneuvers until he can just barely push past Steve’s lips, touch a fingertip against his tongue to introduce a fresh taste, something other than blood. Steve’s eyes close, a shudder twitching at his frame as he breathes out, the first reaction he’s had since Eddie and Robin had first found him. Eddie pulls back like he’s been shot at, hand tingling.

“Fuck.”

“What’s going on?” Robin asks, looking between the two of them like she’s going to climb over the bed and strangle them both if someone doesn’t start explaining what's wrong with her best friend.

“It’s not the Upside Down,” Dustin says, catching Eddie’s eye. He’s the only one Eddie had ever told. The only one that had stood a chance at recognizing the same symptoms Eddie just had. “Steve’s a Sentinel.”

“A what?” Robin says at the same time Mike says: “No way. No way, man. Steve?”

“Yes, Steve,” Dustin snaps, twisting to look at Mike.

“What’s a sentinel,” Max asks, exasperated, before they can begin to argue about Steve.

“It’s a person with vastly superior senses,, like practically a super power,” Nancy says, causing everyone to gawk at her. She shrugs one shoulder and adds: “I found out about it when we were trying to help Max. Sometimes one of a Sentinel’s senses gets so overpowering that they actually get lost in it, and it sends them into a- a sort of waking coma. If that’s what’s going on, then he needs a Guide.”

Eddie’s eyes close, lips pursing.

“Eddie,” Dustin says, wheedling.

“Eddie?” Robin prompts. She’s already caught on, then.

“Shit,” Eddie cusses under his breath, and then: “Shit, shit, SHIT. Fuck.” He balls up his fists near his head and then releases them. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“A party member needs you,” Dustin says firmly.

“He can’t- he-” Eddie stares down at Steve, lips now widely smudged with blood, breathing even and eyes still open, empty.

“Eddie?” Nancy says quietly, drawing his attention up. “Are you… a Guide?”

He nods, feeling sick. His mother had been one, when he was little. She’d taken off to Guide a Sentinel, had never come back. He’d sworn he wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t follow in those footsteps. Wayne had tried to teach him, but Wayne hadn’t know any better than Eddie had, hadn’t known more than Eddie’s mom had already taught him by then. Eddie had spent his life wanting nothing to do with this garbage, and it had somehow snuck right in the front door.

Everyone’s looking at him, though, so he sighs and closes his eyes to get away from them. “It’s not… exactly… casual,” he bites out. “Sentinels get… they don’t just change Guides, and I’ve never- I might mess it up, I’ve never done it before. I’m just supposed to make that decision for him? Possibly bind him to a fucked up Guide?”

“Well, it’s not like he can choose right now,” Dustin says, barbed. “So, are you going to do it or are you just going to let him die?”

“Die!” Robin exclaims.

“Hey, hey,” Owens says, holding his hands up, splayed, to tone down the volume. “No one is dying today. Young man, do you know of any other Guides nearby that we might call upon, if you don’t want to do it?”

The thought of someone else doing it only makes Eddie feel sicker. He’s not sure how much of what he feels is fear of messing up and how much is bone-deep rage at the thought of anyone else touching Steve. He’s not sure either feeling isn’t being caused by being this close to an active Sentinel in need of him.

“I’ll do it,” he snarls finally, because the thought of someone else doing it makes him angrier than the thought of messing up scares him. “Everyone else needs to get out, though.”

He’s sure he can wake Steve up from this, he just has no idea how Steve will come out of it- softly or violently or terrified… broken, because Eddie doesn’t do it well enough. He’s also just… he’s embarrassed, for himself on some level for his inexperience, but definitely for Steve, for them both to be as vulnerable as they’re about to be. He doesn’t want Steve waking up and being immediately subjected to the knowledge that everyone saw him like this.

Dustin stays until the last second, then gives his shoulder a squeeze and leaves as well. He peeks around the door the second before he closes it, and Eddie gives them all a minute to move away. They won’t all go- Robin and Dustin and probably Nancy will stay in the hall. It’s enough.

Gingerly, Eddie takes a deep breath and a seat on the edge of the bed, and reaches to brush his fingertips over Steve’s wrist. There’s no reaction, but he hadn’t really expected it to be that easy- he’d had his finger in the guy’s mouth a second ago and it didn’t wake him.

“Steve,” he says, quietly. “I’m uh… I’m really sorry about this.”

He wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist more securely, and begins. “Steve, this is Eddie. I’m… I’m going to be your Guide, I’m going to help you out of your senses.” He keeps the words steady, measured, and pushes them forward. “Right now you’re focused on your sense of taste. You’re tasting blood, your own blood, and I’m guessing you got lost in it because of a nightmare. That’s going to happen again, but I’m going to be here for it, okay? From now on, I’m going to be here. But what I need from you now is to hear me.”

Steve’s wrist trembles in his at the words, hands shaking, and Eddie feels… something. It feels cheesy to call it a spiritual connection, the way his mother had, but maybe… primal. Animalistic, perhaps, but in a basic not a base way. Simple.

“Good,” he says, the corner of his lips curling when Steve’s eyes close at the single word. Alright, then. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposes. “You’re doing very well, Steve. I need you to keep being good, keep trying to get to me. Focus on my voice. Follow my words. Hear the pitch, the timbre, the cadence. Feel the vibration of it in the air. I’m calling to you, Steve. I’m calling you.”

Steve’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and Eddie feels a little thrill. It’s working. This is the terrifying part. A first fugue state like this is the most dangerous, shouldn’t even be attempted by a new Guide alone. Someone,anyone, should have been preparing Steve for this, he should have had a Guide picked out ages ago. They should have had an experienced Guide ready to help both him and his chosen Guide through it.

Not that it matters; this is what they have. Steve doesn’t know and Eddie isn’t prepared, butSteve can hear him now, he’s pretty sure, which means he stands a chance at getting him out of it. Unfortunately, this is the point that runs the risk of just shifting which sense he’s lost in, if he can only get Steve to hear him. A Sentinel lost in a new Guide’s voice is so, so much harder to pull out of it.

Split their focus, his mother had told him. He barely remembers. He hopes it’s enough.

Eddie loosens his grasp on Steve’s wrist, and slides his hand up Steve’s arm, applying pressure evenly until he reaches the shoulder.

“You’re doing so good, but I need you to split your senses again, Steve,” he says as he does it, giving Steve’s shoulder a hard squeeze. “I need you to feel my hands. I need you to listen to my voice, and feel my fingers, and my palm. Feel the pressure.”

He drags his hand down Steve’s chest, over the scars on his belly. Swipes his thumb gently over the edges of them, sure that the new skin is just as weirdly sensitive-not-sensitive as his own, produces the same weird gut-twinge as sticking a finger into his belly button too deep.

“Feel my thumb. Hear my words. Feel my skin, the fingerprint lines.”

He presses his fingertips just above Steve’s hip bone where there’s still skin, lightly at first, and then deeper. Steve makes a small, pained noise, his face scrunching up, and Eddie feels relief flood through him. He’s feeling it.

“Good, Steve, that’s good, you’re listening, you’re following. Come on, now,” he coaxes, adding his other hand to Steve’s arm as he moves the first past Steve’s hip, over his boxers and down his leg. “Hear me, feel me. Relax your senses, let go of the taste of blood, that’s not for you right now. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” He winces, eyes closing. Stupid. “Steve.”

Steve licks at his lips, clearing the blood, eyes opening even though they are still far away, glassy and unfocused. He can feel Steve… reaching for him, trying to anchor himself in all the senses that contain him. Eddie breathes out and in. Almost over.

“That’s right, there you go, good boy.”

Steve’s eyes tick in his direction when he says it, and Eddie leverages himself up a little so he is leaning his hands on Steve, pressing heavy upon him, as well as being in his line of sight. His hair drops down, framing his face a little dramatically, but Steve’s eyes tick again to meet his.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” he greets. “You see me? You hear my voice still, feel my hands? You’re coming out of a sensory fugue. I need you to focus on me, on coming back out of your own head, out of your sense of taste.”

Steve blinks, and his brow furrows a little in confusion, and Eddie’s breath rushes out of him at the recognition.

“Eddie.” It sounds like relief.

“Yeah, buddy,” Eddie says, so gently, as he leans back, taking pressure off his hands on Steve. “How’re you feeling?”

“Bad,” Steve says, closing his eyes.

“Nuh-uh, keep them open,” Eddie says firmly, reaching up to tap at Steve’s cheek with flat fingers. “You need to use all your senses for a few minutes, until you’re actually evened out again.”

“What?” Steve asks, but he does open his eyes, turns his cheek into Eddie’s palm more fully, pressing.

Eddie blows out a breath and withdraws his hand to rub at his own face. This cannot be happening to them. Of course it would happen to them. “I have some uh… bad news?” he offers weakly. “Do you know what a Sentinel is?”

“No?” Steve says, looking at Eddie’s hand like he might perish if it keeps on Eddie instead if Steve. Eddie puts it back on him, resting over Steve’s hand instead of his cheek.

“They’re… Well, you know how people think humans survived all the dangers of prehistoria because of, like, thumbs?” Eddie asks carefully, and Steve nods but looks confused still. “Not to discount thumbs, but a lot of humans survived because some of them were born with way, way, way better senses. They could see or hear or smell or feel stuff that no one else could, and it let them sense when danger approached. They guarded settlements, and allowed them to prepare for bad things. I guess you uh… you must be from one of those bloodlines, and… your… interdimensional adventures may have triggered you to come into your senses.”

“Come to my senses?” Steve says, confused.

“Nope, no, that’s different,” Eddie says with a smile he only partially manages to hide. The confusion, the pliancy, will wear off in a little bit. “Not sure that’s ever going to happen. For any of us. No, you came into your senses. Or one sense, anyway. I’m guessing your major sense is taste. You got lost in it.”

“Blood,” Steve says faintly. “All I could think about was the blood, the taste of it in my mouth.”

Eddie nods. “Makes sense. Bit your tongue during a nightmare and it was too much.”

“I don’t- I don’t understand. What do you mean got lost?”

Eddie runs a hand through his hair and scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s like… well, you’ve had panic attacks before right?” When Steve nods, Eddie gestures. “It’s like one of your senses having a panic attack. Except you can’t get out of it by yourself. It doesn’t go away on its own. You need a Guide.”

Steve looks up at him and then struggles up into a sitting position. He absently touches his wrist where Eddie’s touch still lingers, and glances around the room. “… You? You’re the Guide? My Guide?”

“Unfortunately,” Eddie says, trying to sound sympathetic. He is pretty sure that Steve Harrington doesn’t want to be intimately linked with Eddie “the freak” Munson, even if they have been tentative friends for while now. “But, you’re still new, like you’re still… there’s time to switch. You should have had your Guide picked out years ago. I have a number at home, we can call. There are other guides out there, y’know, you can get someone else.”

“Someone else?” Steve echoes, brow knitting. “You… don’t want to?”

Eddie swallows. God, he wants to. It’s just- “You deserve to get to pick,” he says softly, looking away. “I’ve never done it, I don’t really know what I’m doing, and it’s kind of uh… a full time gig. Live in, you know? And that’s… that’s hard even when you like the other person.”

Steve’s brow knits further. “You don’t like me?”

“No, I do,” Eddie says. He’s messing this up. He sighs. “It’s just, you…”

“You think I don’t like you?” he asks, cottoning on.

“I think you don’t know me like you should, to pick me,” Eddie says, heart twisting up for Steve. This is going to suck so much for him. Eddie really is going to throttle his parents for not teaching him any of this if they knew. He hopes they didn’t. “I’m- I’m loud and weird and-”

“I’m best friends with Robin and Dustin,” Steve interrupts. “You think I don’t like loud and weird?”

Eddie’s belly does a little flip, shaking up all the butterflies and sending them into a riot. “Do you?”

“I do,” Steve says. “And if… if you… I don’t really want to go find some complete stranger to live with, if it can be you instead. If you’re okay with it, I’m good with it. I’m glad it’s you, in fact.”

“Oh,” Eddie says.

Maybe he’s the one that’s slipped into a fugue state now, because this cannot be happening. He never thought he’d actually be dragged into being a Guide in the first place, had avoided it as best as he could. Certainly he cannot lucky enough to be found by a Sentinel he actually, desperately, wants.

He can be normal about this.

“So…?” Steve prompts gently, because Eddie never answered.

Failed step one, he thinks, so he smiles and tries to be normal. “Uhm, yeah, I mean, yeah, man.” He shrugs a little, smile turning genuine when Steve relaxes. “I can be your Guide. I’d like to, in fact,” he echoes Steve.

“Good,” Steve says, leaning back against the headboard and letting his head thunk back against it.

He looks fucking exhausted, Eddie thinks, wondering how long he was in that state. Getting lost used to kill Sentinels, if they didn’t find Guides quickly enough. Eddie’s never been so grateful for Robin being stubborn, making him drive her over, insisting on checking. Calling in the cavalry immediately.

Robin seems to hear she’s being thought about, because her voice filters in from the other side of the door when they’ve been quiet too long. “Did it work??”

Eddie grins as Steve laughs, and something within Eddie relaxes. They’re gonna be okay. They’ll be okay as long as they can still laugh.

“It worked,” Steve calls. “I’ll be out in a minute, just let me get dressed.”

Cheeks pinking again, Eddie hops off the side of the bed and stands, finally breaking contact fully. “I’ll just- I’ll leave you to that then.”

“Hey,” Steve says, shifting like he’s going to try to grab for Eddie even though he doesn’t. “Um… thanks, man. You really did save my ass this time.”

Eddie searches his face for some kind of joke, but there’s nothing but that strange, quiet earnestness he’s come to associate with Steve. He smiles, nods once, and heads into the hall to report to the others that Steve’s going to be just fine.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing #stranger things fic #askbox prompts #also on AO3 #asks #hey maz #https://archiveofourown.org/works/42479181 #this is all I have planned but also it was really fun #and I'm a sucker?#so. there's that.

238 notes · View notes

itsnothappening · 2 years

Text

the story of love: epilogue | daminette

summary: a peek into the future.

ao3 | wattpad | masterlist | prompts | series masterlist

first - previous - next

Marinette beamed at her green-eyed son - his eyes were just like his father’s - as he took his first steps.

“Damian,” she called out into the apartment. “Hurry up, Elijah’s taking his first steps!”

Within seconds, her husband of five years was by her side, grinning at their son.

Elijah turned his big forest-green eyes at the two of them, as he held out his hands, trying to catch them.

Marinette smiled giddily at him, cooing as he took shaky steps towards her.

“Come on, mon cheri , you can do it!”

Elijah grinned at her toothily, attempting to walk faster now.

All of a sudden, he tripped over a stray toy and was about to fall flat on his face when strong arms caught him.

“Nice try, Eli,” Damian cradled Elijah in his arms. “Amazing for the first time.”

Marinette beamed at the almost-identical pair, snapping a picture of them both.

Elijah gurgled happily and laughed as Damian tickled him.

Awwing, Marinette huffed slightly when her phone rang.

“Hello?” she asked, still snapping pictures of Damian and Elijah.

Chloe Bourgeois’s haughty voice was heard over the phone. Damn, Marinette hadn’t spoken to her in years. “Wayne. Turn on the news channel right now.”

Shooting an odd look at the phone, Marinette groped for the remote, switching on the TV.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Alya Cesaire yelled loudly as the police escorted her from the mental hospital.

“You can’t do this-” She was yelling furiously, struggling. “I am a reporter and have every right to-”

The captain crossed his arms and glared at the so-called reporter. “Actually, Mdm. Cesaire, we have every right to, especially after the four warnings we have issued. As of now, Alya Cesaire you are under arrest.”

Alya gaped at the man in front of her, protests momentarily stopped. “ What? But you can’t arrest me-”

She blinked owlishly as the flash of a camera was used on her. A mildly but still qualified reporter held the microphone out to her and asked questions in rapid succession. “Mdm. Cesaire, how does it feel to be-”

“That’s enough.” The captain said sternly, ordering his men to take the prisoner to the van.

Alya was still blinking as she was shoved into the van, handcuffs tightened on her wrists.

How-how did it even come to this?

In high-school, she was famous for her blog, not infamous. Millions of people followed her blog daily, Alya was on her way to become a famous reporter.

Then Lila came. And she had so many amazing stories to share, and Alya shared it for her. She didn’t understand why no one would believe her.

Lila would never lie to her… wouldn’t she ?

◇─◇──◇─◇

Nino Lahiffe sighed as Alya was dragged off by the police. To be honest, he never really understood how Alya could still believe Lila after Marinette blew up at them like that.

After that, he looked up everything she had told him - and only god knows why he hadn’t done it before. Every single thing she had told him was a lie and Nino knew he had completely and utterly destroyed his relationship with the single-most kind person in his class.

Obviously, seeing as Marinette was going to take time to forgive him - they would never be friends after this - Nino just sent her a sincere apology through a voice message. She sent him a reply after a few months and Nino left it at that.

She was a famous designer now and Nino was making his way up the music industry, his previous progress restored.

He still kept in touch with his previous classmates, checking in every now and then with them, but he had a new group of friends now, people who had the same interests as him.

Sighing as he switched the TV off, Nino put his headphones back on and started to work again.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Mylene nudged Ivan as they sorted the books out on their table quietly.

“Look who’s on the national news.”

Ivan looked up from labelling the books and rolled his eyes at the familiar woman on the screen. “Honestly, when will she come to her senses? For god’s sake, Rossi’s checked into a mental hospital.”

Mylene shrugged, not really caring about it anymore. Although she hadn’t achieved her dreams at the scale she wanted to, it was enough and she was happy.

At least Lila didn’t take that away from them. She had torn their class to pieces - all of them were too guilty of what they did to look each other in the eyes.

The memories were too overwhelming.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Juleka scoffed as she took a sip of water, muttering under her breath, “What an idiot.”

Rose looked up, her eyes also hardening when she saw Alya on the screen. She was thrashing around, her eyes wild and unfocused. “She should get chucked in the mental hospital with Lila.”

Nodding her agreement, Juleka slipped on the outfit she was going to model into - thankfully, Lila didn’t have much of an effect on her and Rose - and kissed her wife on the cheek. “I’ll see you later?”

Rose smiled at her, the thrashing girl on the screen completely forgotten.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Marc furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the computer screen. “Hey, Nath, love, isn’t that Alya?”

Nathaniel looked up from the sketch he was shading. “Who now?”

“Alya,” Marc repeated, “Alya Cesaire?”

Paying attention to what Marc was talking about now, Nathaniel shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t really remember her, to be honest.”

Marc rolled his eyes fondly, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead. “You have the worst memory.”

Nathaniel smiled teasingly at him. “But you still love me.”

“That I do, but sometimes, I wonder why.” Marc said fondly.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Alix paused in her usual exercises when she saw the TV screen in front of her.

“Hey guys,” she said, uncertainly - her memory was terrible. “Isn’t that Alya?”

Max turned his head and pushed his glasses up his nose, holding his laptop carefully. “Yes, I believe that is her.”

Kim scoffed, chugging down a bottle of water. “What a maniac. She still hasn’t seen that Lila was lying.”

Alix rolled her eyes and nodded her agreement. How she was blinded by Lila’s lies she would never know.

Although Lila had made a dent in her skating progress, Alix still managed to fix it and push ahead and now, she was making a name for herself in the skating world.

Max was repairing his reputation as a computer programmer, the trust of his clients slowly being restored.

Kim was the one who was affected the worst out of the three of them, but he was also moving forward now. He had won some championships in swimming, and was slowly making his way to the top.

Lila had left her scars on all of them, and Alix didn’t care for Alya if she still believed her.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Adrien Agreste shook his head in amazement as Alya was dragged away by the police.

He turned to the Gorilla, his only companion from his teenage years, and asked him, “Do you think I should help her?”

The Gorilla sighed and shook his head firmly.

Leaning back, so the makeup artist could wipe his face, Adrien wondered when Alya would realize she was in the wrong.

He certainly did over the years. First he lost all of his friends. Then his miraculous - and later, Adrien would realize how much he obsessed over Ladybug. And finally, two of the three parental figures in his life.

Adrien did some serious thinking and looked for a therapist. He certainly wasn’t perfect - he never would be - but he was getting better.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Caline Bustier sighed as she mopped the floors of the school.

The teacher in the class next to hers was speaking to the students, teaching them, much like she did years ago.

After the whole Lila Rossi debacle, she was fired and spent 6 months in jail.

Her teaching career was practically incinerated after that, and in order to have a small piece of her dream, Caline worked as a cleaner in a school.

She had no other credits to her name other than her teaching diploma and after that was gone, there was no choice anyway.

Her phone rang with an alert, and Caline sighed as she saw her former student being dragged away by the police.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Lila Rossi grit her teeth in anger as the nurse came back and checked her vitals.

Screaming to be set free, her eyes glowed with hate and loathing. The nurse sighed again, mumbling something like, “Not again.”

Incensed even more, Lila banged her hands on the window separating them after she attacked the last one. “Let me out! Let me out - my friend, Alya, Alya Cesaire is there to check me out-”

“Mdm. Cesaire,” the nurse said, backing away from the insane woman. “Has been arrested for trespassing.”

Disbelievingly, Lila banged her fists again, shaking her head in refusal. “Impossible, impossible -”

The nurse turned on the TV and as Alya was dragged away, Lila Rossi howled in anger, stuck in the room she deserved to be in.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Chloe Bourgeois smirked as Cesaire was dragged off into the vehicle. She’d have to thank the nurse for letting her know what was going to happen.

63 notes · View notes

unmitigatedsuperiority · 3 years

Note

"Why did you leave..? Why did you leave?! Answer me, dammit!" Spencer x reader pls

"Why did you leave..? Why did you leave?! Answer me, dammit!"

Spencer’s voice reverberated throughout the hallway as he yelled into the phone. Echoes of fearful anger. If he had to listen to the heinous sound of your phone ringing only to go straight to voicemail one more time, he was going to break down. But he couldn’t do that. Not right now. Not when so much was at stake. Instead, he pocketed the phone before it could reach your voicemail again. He took a deep breath, shaky and tense, before taking off.

Rushing down the steps of your apartment, Spencer felt his heartbeat in his ears. A metronome to set the scene, utterly at conflict with the chaotic thumping of his feet on each carpeted step. He couldn’t believe you left at a time like this. If you had even left voluntarily, that is. Penelope’s trusted program that tracked the team’s partners’ phones had originally put his mind at ease, but that was before the unsub had escalated. Before he couldn’t reach you when he knew for a fact that your phone was in your apartment. No one was safe, not even you, and that concept made his blood run cold. Spencer couldn’t do anything, couldn’t think if he didn’t know you were safe. Instead, his brain was practically useless, engulfed by anxiety and dread. He needed to find you.

Shoving open the front door, Spencer stumbled out onto the sidewalk. He took a quick look in either direction, allowing himself a moment to envision the storefronts on each side. Grocery store, convenience store, bank… He couldn’t picture the street. He couldn’t remember. Trying to push down the pure panic that hammered in his chest at that thought, Spencer glanced left and then right. Trusting his gut, he turned left. You were in that direction. You had to be.

Too-bright store signs and the rush of cars assaulted his senses. It made Spencer want to crawl out of his skin. He was overstimulated and overwhelmed; thoughts moving a mile a minute. The world was too loud and busy, and didn’t they know his world was upside down right now? He kept up a brisk pace as he weaved through pedestrians, glancing into storefronts, searching for your face. Trying to keep focus when he was so close to falling apart. He was about to give into the fear when suddenly…

There.

“Y/N!” Spencer called out over the crowd; eyes glued to your back as he broke into a sprint. You hadn’t even fully turned around when Spencer had his arms around you, holding you as though letting go would kill him. And maybe it would. Maybe the feel of his hands against your torso was the glue holding the broken pieces of him together. Even after this moment, once the two of you were walking back in the direction of your apartment, he held your hand tight. He couldn’t lose you again.

After you let him into your apartment and made him a cup of tea, Spencer explained the situation. The unsub. The panic. You apologized for not answering your phone and he apologized for scaring you. Leftover anxiety rolled off him in waves. You tapped the side of your mug as you rolled the next words over in your mouth.

“I thought I’d be fine. I was just going to the convenience store down the street. The same one we’ve gone to a thousand times. I didn’t even know I’d forgotten my phone until I was halfway there. I didn’t realize how bad everything was. That…that must have been scary. Coming here and not knowing where I was.” You looked into pensive brown eyes, the same ones you’ve seen nearly every day for the last few years. There was a sad furrow in his brow now. You suddenly felt an all-encompassing urge to lean forward and smooth it away.

“God, I was – I was terrified,” Spencer started. The crease in his brow deepened. “If anything ever happened to you, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I know that. But that doesn’t change the fact that if anything did happen to you I…” Spencer trailed off, his eyes moving back and forth as he searched his brain for the words. He licked his lips, a nervous tic. You waited for him to collect himself. He gesticulated with shaky hands as he continued his explanation.

“When I don’t know you’re safe, it’s like my brain stops working. Every fact and statistic…it’s like I can’t recall anything. I can’t do anything until I know you’re safe. The very fact that I feel that way is kind of overwhelming, actually.” He huffed out a humorless laugh. You set down your mug and pulled him into your side, raking a hand through his curls. He let out a soft hum at the sensation before speaking again.

“I’m sorry for putting you through this. I just…can’t lose you.” Spencer quieted at that last part. You stilled your fingers in his curls and cupped his jaw in your other hand. You traced along his cheekbone with your fingertips, this rare moment of vulnerability thick and tangible in the air. A sad smile pulled at your lips and you tugged him close.

You cradled his head in one hand as you tightened an arm around his waist. You held him there, safe in your arms, as though you were the glue holding the fragile pieces of him together. Keeping him from breaking down. And maybe, in that moment, you were.

“I’m right here, Spencer,” you reassured him in hushed tones. “I’m right here.”

send me blurb prompts!

taglist: @everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @moderatelydelusional

masterlist | taglist

#it's under 1k words people can we get a round of applause #this was difficult bc it was such an angsty prompt but i quite like how this turned out #my fics #fics: reid #fics #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst

144 notes · View notes

writing-on-the-wahl · 3 years

Note

Part two to boys and butter? (I know I already requested something but still)

Ok here goes! Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 here. (based off a prompt by @nuttynutcycle)

*special thanks to @im-a-wonderling for the beta read, edits, and fantastic ideas!!*

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

Villain was washing her hair, for the fourth time, cursing stupid heroes for forcing her to get her hair wet. In water. For the fourth time that day.

A loud pounding interrupted her ranting and her shampooing.

Who would dare?

“Uh Villain?”

She lifted her head out of the sink and turned off the water.

“What!?!”

“Um well, Sidekick is here.”

“And?”

“Well, he uh, he says he wants to talk?”

She growled and reached for a towel.

Henchman leapt back as she wrenched open the door, spraying water droplets in every direction. “So you just let him in?”

How did he even know where her lair was?

“No!! He’s standing outside the front door.”

Might as well post a billboard saying ‘Villain lives here!’

“Get him inside, now!”

“Where—?”

“I don’t care! The entryway! Just get him off the street!”

Henchman scrambled away as Villain took the towel to her hair before pulling up the hood of her jacket.

She should probably have her people send Sidekick away, vulnerable as she was at the moment, but this didn’t feel like a trap. At least not the dangerous kind. More of the buttery kind.

She stomped through the upstairs, her henchmen darting out of her way. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused. Her mask was still upstairs covered in nasty butter, and even if Sidekick knew where she lived, she didn’t need him seeing her face as well.

“Hit the lights!” she shouted.

Every single light in the house went out. At least her people were efficient.

She tugged her hood down further as she rounded the corner to the entryway, clinging to the shadows.

Sidekick stood framed in the light shining through the window on the front door, his hands raised unthreateningly to the sides.

“Why didn’t you just turn off the lights with your powers?” It was a curious question rather than a judgmental one, and so quiet she wondered if he’d meant to say it out loud.

Before she could answer, he shook his head. “Right sorry!” He muttered. “Not my business. That’s not why I came...” It was clear now he was in fact talking to himself, and hadn’t yet noticed her come in. His hand darted up to his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose, before the cocking of her henchmen’s guns sent his hand back away from his body. “Sorry! Sorry! Nervous habit!”

Villain couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her lips.

“Have you ever dropped a blow dryer in water?”

He jerked around, scanning the shadows until he spotted her. “I-um-no? But that sounds rather dangerous.... electrical currents in water can lead to...”

“Exactly.”

His face was half in shadow, but the adorable confusion was easy to see.

“I was washing my hair.”

His face, or what she could see of it, flushed red.

“I’m sorry-I didn’t... I don’t...”

Oh this was too fun.

But she decided to put him out of his misery.

“In the sink. My hair is wet...Wet hair, electrical current...” she waved her hands in an explosive gesture and didn’t have to wait long for him to piece it together. It was a rather unfortunate twist of her powers that she could essentially summon lightning, but if she was the slightest bit wet, all that energy went into her rather than her intended target.

“So you can’t use your powers when you’re wet?”

Oh no.

She’d been so distracted by his utterly innocent flustering that she hadn’t thought about the ramifications of telling a member of Hero Agency her biggest weakness.

Should she just kill him now?

But he was so cute...

Sidekick had noticed her silence. He groaned. “Listen. This isn’t why I’m here. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Then why are you here?”

He reached for his pocket, but froze as her henchmen advanced.

“Sorry! Sorry! I just need to get something out of my pocket.” He looked at her, or rather, in her direction, since she was still obscured by the darkness.

Villain dipped her head. “It’s alright. Just move very slowly.”

He took her words to heart, moving with painstaking slowness as he pulled a small paper from his front pocket. He gingerly unfolded it before extending it out to her.

“Other Henchman?”

Other Henchman stepped forward, gun aimed at Sidekick’s chest, and took the paper. He backed up until he was out of arms reach, then turned and delivered her the paper. She squinted at the writing, fingered the thick paper. It wasn’t a note, it was a $100 bill.

“What is this?”

“It’s $100.”

“I know that.” He flinched at the venom in her voice, and she mentally reminded herself to be gentle.

“Why are you handing me money, Sidekick?”

“It’s a bribe.”

“A what?”

“Or a payment. I mean however you want to look at it. And I can’t explain, so please don’t ask me any questions, but I will give you $100 if you let me borrow your mask for an hour.”

Hero blinked, several times, thinking back on the strange events of the day. First the heroes... now Sidekick.

“Are you making a game of me?” The quiet question hung in the air for the briefest moment before—

“NO!!” The outburst from the timid Sidekick made her jump.

He ran his fingers through his curly hair, but this time her people didn’t bother to protest his sudden movement. They could tell, as she could, that he wasn’t a threat.

“I’m not trying to mock you, but I can’t explain right now. But... please?”

Villain couldn’t doubt his sincerity.

“So you’re wanting to… what? Rent my mask for an hour?”

“Yes.” He squeaked out.

“And what’s to guarantee you’ll bring it back?”

He paused. “I give you my word.”

Villain laughed. “You’ll have to forgive me for doubting the word of a sworn enemy.”

Sidekick shifted from foot to foot.

“Well, what else do you have?” Sidekick’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you willing to offer as collateral?”

“I--” He reached into his pockets. Keys, wallet, phone. Nothing she was interested in.

“What’s that around your neck?”

Sidekick’s hand flew to the chain peeking out of the collar of his shirt. “Nothing!” he replied too quickly.

“Hmmmm. Well I think I’ve made my decision. You can leave whatever it is that’s hanging around your neck here with me until you return my mask, or you can leave now, before I decide to keep you here, indefinitely.” She wasn’t actually into the whole kidnapping scene, but she couldn’t resist teasing him.

“I..It’s… you wouldn’t want it.”

“Oh?”

He pulled the chain out of his shirt, revealing a small blue shell. She knew he had some sort of water affinity, but had avoided him. The whole ‘get wet and your powers backfire thing’ really stole the appeal of being close enough to see his powers in action.

Villain raised her eyebrows. “Explain.”

“Well, I have water powers.”

“And? Hurry up, little hero. Before my offer expires.”

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Igetmypowersfromtheshell.”

It took her a moment to process his jumbled words, then Villain blinked. Twice.

“I- well..” She’d been expecting some sentimental ‘I remember the day I found this shell’ drivel, but… his powers came from a shell? The look on his face told her he wasn’t lying. She didn’t want to be anywhere near some mystical shell-thing, but she’d already made her offer.

“The shell as collateral for my mask. Take it or leave it.” She waved the $100 bill. “Oh and either way, I’m keeping this.”

Sidekick closed his eyes and nodded once.

“Henchman,” she signaled him to draw closer. He listened to her instructions before darting up the stairs.

When he came back down, he held out his hand, but she waved him off, pointing at Sidekick.

Sidekick stiffened at Henchman’s approach, but relaxed when he saw the object Henchman held pinched between two fingers. He reluctantly pulled the chain over his head and dropped it into Henchman’s open palm before taking the mask Henchman now extended to him.

“Careful it’s-"

“What in the world?”

Villain covered her eyes. She really should have cleaned her mask first.

“Don’t ask.”

Sidekick nodded. “Ok then. I guess I’ll just be going?”

He took a hesitant step back, and when no one stopped him, he gradually turned and grasped the handle of the door.

“Sidekick?”

He froze.

“60 minutes. Starting... now.”

He vanished out the door.

Villain sniffed her hair and gagged. Then she went back upstairs to wash it for the fifth time. She should have been plotting revenge against Other Hero, but instead she was puzzling over a endearingly curious curly-headed, glasses-wearing sidekick and the tiny blue shell that now hung around her neck.

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero #villain #boys and butter #villain x sidekick #snippet #my writing #write #writeblr #sidekick

152 notes · View notes

doormarrow · 3 years

Text

The Infamous House of Lamentation Cuddle Pile

Idk if this is a headcanon or a fic, but here we gooooo

The Curious Incident of the Infamous House of Lamentation Cuddle Pile

Let’s just say MC had a no good very bad day. It might have even been a lost-a-bet-and-had-to-eat-Solomon’s-cooking kind of a day

When they got back to the House of Lamentation, it was time to collapse. The floor of the common room looked *very* tempting, but they trudged up to the attic.

It turns out that Belphie was there first, much to MC’s surprise. MC noticed lumps in the bed, sure, but assumed that they were pillows and did their best dramatic flop, squishing the demon in the process.

You would think Belphie would be startled; But if you think this exact same situation hasn’t happened with Beel before, you’re wrong.

He just lazily turned to MC, long enough to give them a grumpy look, and then buried his face back in his cow pillow. He may or may not have been secretly glad to *be* a pillow, but he would never tell.

But where there’s one, there’s undoubtedly the other. Beel came looking for Belphie a minute or two later, wanting to relax and watch a movie (possibly with some popcorn). When he saw Belphie’s head peeking out from underneath MC, he smiled a bit to himself and settled beside his two favorite people in the world, propping himself up on the headboard. He’s a careful cuddler, and if he can’t be on the bottom of the pile, he will be as gentle as demonly possible.

MC was satisfied that the attic sandwich was now complete, but now there were voices downstairs, echoing in the entryway. They tried to snuggle deeper in between Beel and Belphie to drown out the noise, but the door burst open.

In came Asmo. He had been looking for the MC ever since he heard they came home tired, wanting to make sure they were alright, and that they got enough sleep last night. He was stopped in his tracks though. He had always thought the attic sandwich was overwhelmingly adorable (and maybe he was just a bit jealous of it as well) but this was a whole other plane of existence. He rushed over, and promptly put an elbow on Belphie to lean over and tell MC how adorable they were. He began to chat about his day, and the best posts he saw on Devilgram, never stopping to acknowledge the occasional snarky comment from Belphie. If allowed, he will absolutely begin playing with MC’s hair.

Luke shows up a bit out of breath and peering around the door. He had just escaped the commotion downstairs and almost turned around when he saw yet more demons, but when Beelzebub motioned him over he sighed, defeated, and trotted over to the bed. Beel pulled up his knees, and Luke plopped down cross legged in front of him, beginning a tale of being called a chihuahua yet again by Lucifer. And so the pile now numbers 5.

Simeon marched up the stairs to find the very smol angel. Simeon, like Asmo, wholly endorses cuddle piles, albeit he suspects not in the same way. He politely asked to join the pile, and somehow manages to do it quite gracefully, lying side by side with the MC, while staying in head-pat range of Luke. He couldn’t help but think about how wonderful it was that the MC had brought them all together like this, and he began to drift off, wondering about how best to translate that quality into Henry...

Satan came up to try and find a quiet place to study, as now his least favorite demon was tearing up the house, trying to find Mammon. He debates briefly whether or not to move on to the library, but Asmo caught him as soon as he poked his head in the door, and pleaded for him to join the rest of them. Satan sighed, but a puppy eyed look from MC convinced him to settle on top of the headboard and try to continue his reading as best as he could. MC, now thoroughly squished by demons and some angels to boot, was positively beaming. Satan could swear that if he listened close enough they were actually purring, and a smile crept across his face, almost without him realizing it. Once he did however, he used his book to shield his face (and his now very prominent blush) from view.

Levi shows up with a laptop, looking very grumpy. He has been spam texting the MC for the last half hour because they said they would stream the premiere of the new TSL movie with him. He is even more grumpy when he realizes that the MC is sandwiched in a bunch of normies, but when given puppy eyes will begrudgingly set up the projector in the attic to watch the movie there. When he’s invited to attempt to sit on the now-very-full bed, he gives them all the look of utter horror, but once more pleading eyes from his Henry win the day. Levi gingerly sits on the very edge of the mattress closest to MC, mumbling about normies and covering his face. He startles a bit when Belphie starts snoring from the depths of the pile, but otherwise settles in.

This did not last long. Shortly after the movie starts, in a tense scene between the Lord of Corruption and the Lord of Fools, the door bursts open again, scaring Luke into Beel’s chest. Mammon was doing his best impression of Cerberus’s zoomies, and dove headfirst into Levi, knocking him further back into the pile. He then proceeds to burrow as fast as he can, trying to hide. After explaining in very hurried terms that unless he hides now his future is upside down and attached to the ceiling, he covers himself with the edge of a blanket. His brothers (except perhaps, for Beel, who personally thinks that Mammon is great for hugs and therefore great for cuddle piles, and Belphie, who at this point is mostly unconscious and couldn’t care less as long as the MC remained on top of him) all internally debate kicking him out of the pile, but a murderous look from the MC puts a stop to that. MC grabs another edge of the blanket, and they create a tent to keep in the warmth. Levi.exe stopped working, as after being knocked over he was now directly on top of the MC. He might’ve complained about Mammon, but at the moment his brain was too overloaded from how impossibly cute the situation was. Not even in his favorite team sport anime was there anything that could have prepared him for this.

Solomon shows up not long after, waving his DDD in the air with a suspiciously familiar picture— Levi nearly shushes him, but when he took a closer look at the picture on the phone, he blushes hard and retreats under the blanket. On his DDD is a selfie Asmo took with the whole pile behind him.

“Asmo, you called?” Solomon is grinning ear to ear, and without asking sets himself down beside the mischievous Avatar of Lust. Asmo does his best to make room for him, not wanting to exclude anyone from the monstrous pile. Solomon, being a human, takes up no where near the amount of space that, say, Beel does, but his legs just couldn’t quite fit. He solves the problem by making an ottoman himself, drawing some glowing purple rings and symbols in the air beside the bed and crossing his ankles over top of them. He congratulates Levi on his choice of movie, and leans against the pile to watch.

They all get to about the midpoint of the movie, when Asmo feels that he’s somehow forgetting something. Something, or someone important… He was about to forget it when Diavolo climbs through the window asking “dID yOU FOrgET ABOuT ME” appeared in the doorway, looking utterly offended.

He quickly forgives them for apparently forgetting to invite him to the cuddle party, and advances on the bed. He stops, turns around and oh no he’s doing a trust fall—

The whole pile groans and Levi wonders if he’ll be able to breathe again. Diavolo, on the other hand, could not be more delighted, putting his hands behind his head and asking about the movie.

Barbatos watched, amused, from a corner of the room. No one is exactly sure how or when he got there, but that wasn’t at all unusual for Barbatos. MC asks him to join, which prompts Levi to silently plead for his lungs, but Barbatos politely declines. Being pestered further however, the prince in particular putting up a strong argument, Barbatos gives a slight smile and manages to find a single open edge to precariously balance on. He laughs a bit to himself, at the very least glad that everyone is getting along for once. MC is pleased, but both they and Asmo could still tell someone was missing…

Lucifer was having a difficult day. He couldn’t find Cerberus, who was due for a brushing, and he had begun to worry about the MC, who came in with a face so beaten down that it made him of all people feel beyond exhausted. On top of that, Mammon had the audacity to inform him that he had planned a spur of the moment get together at the House of Lamentation with Purgatory Hall, Diavolo, and Barbatos in which he promised that Lucifer would do the cooking.

Mammon had disappeared, and so Lucifer sat down at his desk defeated. He would message Diavolo in the meantime, asking to perhaps try a different day, or to go out to Ristorante Six instead. He picked up his DDD to do so, but something nagged at the back of his head. The House of Lamentation was too quiet. The last time the house had been this quiet, Satan had rigged a glitter bomb in the kitchen that took several decades to wash out. He still shuddered at the thought of green glitter. He was brought out of his thoughts as the DDD rumbled in his hand. A new Devilgram post? The image that came up was from Asmodeus’s account...

Mammon was busy arguing with Levi about how no I don’t want ta cuddle with you weirdos, I’m just lookin out for my best interests, s’all. What dya mean tsundere? Look who’s talking scale boi when the poor, beaten-and-abused attic door was slammed open once again.

Lucifer loomed, putting on his best lecture face. Mammon was so far beneath the pile at this point that Lucifer would have to pry them all apart to get to him.

“What in the Devildom do you think you’re doing? Being cute won’t get you out of this.” Lucifer begins to explain that snuggling the Prince of the Devildom is improper at a time like this, Mammon should learn not to pull others into his promises, etc. Barbatos is unimpressed. Lucifer definitely thinks this is cute, but he would never, in any time or realm, admit it.

He continues uninterrupted, but something can be heard padding up the stairs. A minute or so into his speech, he is suddenly toppled over, careening headfirst into the pile.

Absolute confusion from everyone involved, and a very, very grumpy Lucifer. Also chaotic laughter from Satan, who is now directly above Lucifer, sitting on the headboard.

Cerberus has arrived, claiming his spot atop the pile. He proudly sits on Lucifer’s chest, as if to say to the MC, look what I brought, aren’t I a good boy?

Lucifer makes an attempt to get up, but then Diavolo, Asmo, Simeon, and the MC began pleading with him to stay a while. He melted a little on the inside, but when the MC grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving he broke, and resigned to stay, just for the moment. He closes his eyes, for once relishing the fact of being surrounded by his family and closest friends. Cerberus curled up on top, content that he had brought the last piece to his puppy pile.

And so they stayed like that for the rest of the night, even after the movie ended, only pausing for Asmo to get his softest blankets and pillows from his room. Satan got drowsy while reading his book, eventually nodding off and moving from the headboard into the pile, and accidentally leaning on Lucifer and Cerberus. Lucifer was more than surprised, but he vowed not to move a muscle so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping bookworm. Diavolo took the other side of Lucifer resting his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, and even Barbatos relaxed against the pile, folding his hands on his chest, and glancing every once in a while at Luke to make sure he was comfortable. Mammon and Levi shared their spot squishing the MC, heads together and snoring lightly. MC hugged and held hands with whoever was closest by, occasionally shifting their weight to hopefully make Belphie more comfortable. Asmo and Solomon leaned on each other on one side of the bed, Asmo co-opting his magical ottoman and curling up as best he could. Simeon, oddly content with his spot near the bottom at the pile, was dozing away peacefully, somehow still graceful but letting out a small, perfectly pitched whistle as he breathed in and out. Last but not least, Luke had rolled himself into a tiny angel ball against Beel’s chest, and Beel left one hand on his head at all times. Beel was the last to fall asleep. He was too busy smiling, feeling fuller now than he had in ages.

All photo evidence of the event mysteriously disappeared, and that was how the infamous House of Lamentation cuddle pile happened, cross my heart and hope to sneeze.

RIP Belphie

PS Asmo is platonic and non-platonic cuddle king, fight me on it.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me fic #obey me hc

220 notes · View notes

voxmortuus · 3 years

Text

Dear Diary - Summer Fling - Part I

PAIRING: Frank Adler x Grad Student!F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Gifted AU

SONG CHOICE FOR THE SERIES: Here With Me - Susie Suh

WORDS: 751

SUMMARY/PROMPT: You're a grad student who happens to be best friends with Mary. It's summer break, and you have no family to go home to, Mary offers to bring you back to Florida for summer break. During the break, you happen to get close with Frank. At the end of summer break, you make a promise to Frank you will keep in touch. Feelings are heavy between you both. The last night of your time in Florida you and Frank have an intimate evening together before you take off in the morning with Mary.

CHAPTER 1 NOTE: In chapter one, you just meet Frank, so there is nothing really important with this one, just sets the basis for chapter 2.

NOTE: This is my first time stepping out of my usual. @ysmmsy had encouraged me to write for Frank, I had been wanting to branch out so I hope this is okay lol.

TRIGGER WARNING(S): No warnings in this one! | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THIS IMAGE. If this is yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

REQUESTS: OPEN

Dear Diary

There's something I've got to tell you. Something amazing, happened to me, something wonderful. Something... honestly spectacular. I've met someone. I know! It's been such a long time, but I met someone! I made a promise. A promise to keep in touch, a promise that no matter what, I will always be there for Mary, but a promise to call once every couple of days. So as you know in my previous entry, I know it's been a while, so please forgive me. But in my previous entry, I had gone to Florida for summer break. I had gone with Mary Adler, such a sweet girl reminds me of my sister. Smart, witty, and wholesome. So let me tell you what happened. Let me tell you how it all happened.

First Day

Stepping out of the car, I take in a deep breath, my nose hit with the warm salty air of the water. It was wonderful, utterly delightful. A man standing in the distance waves, and Mary shoots out of the car and wraps her arms around him. Her father? Brother? Watching him I let out a soft breath again and smile. Mary brings him over to you.

"Uncle Frank, meet Y/N, Y/N, my wonderful Uncle Frank." Mary smiled.

Holding out my hand I smile. "Well, Hello Uncle Frank, I've heard so much about you." I chuckle. He takes my hand, and my stomach bottomed out, butterflies hit me, the way he looked over me, his eyes bore into my soul. I thought to myself. This is the man of my dreams.

"And I've heard a lot about you. Mary doesn't shut up about you." He chuckled.

Mary chuckled and nodded, looking down at the ground a moment and then back up at the two of you and chuckles. "What's for lunch? I'm starving!" Mary chuckled as she headed towards a house. "Come on, Y/N! Let me show you your room!" She was excited, admittingly, it was nice to go somewhere and actually feel welcomed.

With a chuckle you make your way up the stairs of the house and Frank follows close behind you. Looking over the house as you walk in, Mary turns and grabs your hand and brings you to a guest room. The guest room is right across from Frank's room. Biting your lip you sit on the bed and let out a soft breath and rub the back of your neck.

You hear the front door shut and you look at Mary and smile. "This is lovely Mary, thank you. I'm super excited for the summer." You smile.

Taking the phone out of your pocket, and you shoot a text message to your sister, telling her you made it safely and that you would call her later. When she responded with an excited 'can't wait to hear from you.' You smile and shove your phone back into your pocket.

The front door closes again and you let out a soft breath standing up you make your way to get your belongings but are greeted with them and Frank holding them out to you with a smile.

"Oh, thank you. You didn't have to."

"No, it's okay, not a problem really. You drove all day." He keeps eye contact with you, and you push your hair behind your ear. You bite your lip and smile softly looking down for a moment.

"UNCLE FRANKY! FOOD! HUNGRY! STARVING!" Mary calls. You chuckle.

"Girl beckons." He chuckled and made his way to the kitchen.

Watching as he walked away, you smiled and let in a deep breath. Closing your eyes looking around your summer room you make your way to the kitchen and watch as he whips together some sandwiches.

Taking a seat at the table you three devour your lunch.

Later that night after dinner you and Frank are sitting on the front porch with a beer in hand you watch the moon glisten off the water. He's quiet, but silence isn't bad, you notice he watches you from time to time.

Finishing your beer you make your way inside, tossing the bottle in the trash, and make your way to your room. You close the door slightly and you strip down to get changed. Not realizing Frank was behind you in his own room leaning against the doorframe, he watches you before licking his lips he makes his way into his own room.

"Good night Y/N, see you in the morning."

"Good night, Frank. Thank you."

38 notes · View notes

youngreckless · 3 years

Note

Malec + 37 (from the dialogue prompt, please!) I feel like I'm in the mood for some angst ✨

you ask for angst, and i deliver it. 🤭🤭

warning: this is heavy angst.

37. "Lie to me then." for malec (magnus/alec)

Alec was in the middle of working through the never-ending paperwork when his phone rang. He was almost going to ignore it but then he saw who was calling.

A smile lit his face immediately as he picked up. "You've no idea how much I needed this right now," he groaned instead of saying hello. He didn't need to bother with formalities, though; not when he was talking to his husband.

"Hey," Magnus breathed from the other side.

"Everything okay? Actually, how are you calling me right now? I thought you wouldn't be free till much later."

"No... it, uh, it got over sooner than I anticipated."

"Really? And everything went well?"

"Uh-huh."

"Magnus," Alec said, concern lacing his voice. "Are you in danger? What happened? Do you need me to come there?"

"No... no, I'm okay. Never been better."

"You sound really... out of breath. Where are you right now?"

"Hmm, nevermind that. Tell me what you're doing."

"Magnus! Why are you avoiding my question? I feel like something isn't okay. Tell me where you are, I'm coming there right now."

"Alexander." Magnus winced. "Just– I need you to listen to me right now," he took a breath and let it out slowly. "I can't answer your questions now, I want you to trust me. Please."

Alec swallowed. He'd had a sinking feeling in his gut since he picked up the phone, that something wasn't alright, that he should be there with Magnus right now, and now the feeling had only increased tenfold.

He didn't know what to do. Of course, he trusted Magnus, but that feeling, that Magnus wasn't okay – that something terrible was looming over them, that he should be there.

Going against his better judgement, for now, he answered, "Okay. Okay, I'm listening."

Magnus didn't reply for a few seconds. Alec could only hear his breathing, which was heavy, heavier than it should be. He was about to run off into a Portal to Magnus in a panic when the reply came, in a shaky voice that only disturbed him more.

"I love you. I, I just want you to know that. To remember that. I love you so, so much. God, I never thought I'd be lucky enough to experience love with the intensity I'd always heard Tessa talk about. I never thought–" Magnus coughed. When he spoke again, his voice was a tad bit softer, "I never thought I'd have an actual family. I never thought I'd have kids. And all of that still feels so fucking unreal to me – you do. God, how are you even real? It's like you were crafted by the fucking angels. Which I suppose you were. You're a Shadowhunter. My sense of humour isn't at its best right now, forgive me."

There was another pause and Alec was tempted to interrupt but he could feel that Magnus wanted to finish first. So, once again, going against his very best judgement, he decided to keep quiet, even though it felt like a punch to his gut.

"You once told me 'You're my heart, Magnus Bane, stay unbroken for me.' But– while I felt utterly honoured to be loved by you like that– I want... I need you to know that your heart is too big to not encompass the whole world, and then some. And it's one of the things that made me fall in love with you. I–" Magnus breaks off into a coughing fit that sounds violent, to say the least.

Alec cut in then. "Magnus," he spoke calmly once Magnus had stopped coughing and was taking deep breaths. "Magnus, I need you to tell me where you are. I need you to tell me what happened. And don't say it isn't anything. I need you to tell me why you're talking like this. I need you to tell me the truth."

Magnus groaned. "Can I not?"

"Okay. Lie to me then," Alec said, in the hope that maybe that would give him a clue to what was going on. He needed to know something, anything.

Magnus exhaled slowly. "No, I'll tell you the truth. But I need you to promise that you'll listen to it all before doing anything stupid."

"I promise," Alec said without missing a beat. Because he just needed to know what was going on. He needed to know if something was wrong so he could fix it. So Magnus would be okay.

"Okay, so, long story short, things didn't go as I'd hoped. It was supposed to be a conversation. Those rogue Downworlders... I thought they'd at least hear me out. But you know how extremists are– they didn't want me there. So I tried to tell them that I wasn't there on behalf of the Clave, that I was on their side, but– next thing I knew, I was knocked off my feet with a curse. After that, it was a shit-show. I was heavily outnumbered, of course. I tried to escape but they caught me with a curse before I could act smart. And I don't even know what happened after that. I think I was poisoned. I might have been shot too. I just..." Magnus trailed off.

Alec couldn't breathe. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he couldn't breathe. Somehow he managed to say, "Where are you now?"

"I'm... still there."

"I'm coming. Fuck, Magnus, don't hang up, okay? I'm getting help and I'm coming–"

"Alec."

"And we're gonna find you and make you better–"

"Alec, listen–"

"Just– fuck, why wouldn't you just lead with that?"

"It's already too–"

"Okay, there isn't any more time to waste now, I'm coming there. Stay on the pho–"

"Alec!"

"What?"

"It's already too late. It was too late even before I called you. That's why– that's why I didn't tell you sooner. I just... wanted to talk to you one last time. Tell you how much I love you. Tell you–" Magnus broke into a coughing fit again, this one the most violent.

Alec didn't know what to do. He had to get to Magnus, he had to save him because Magnus wasn't right, it couldn't be too late, he had to go now, he had to do something, he had to, he had to, he had to–

It couldn't be real. Magnus couldn't just go like this. He knew he was panicking, but that seemed to be the only thing he could manage to do. Because Magnus had always been right. And he knew that Magnus would save himself, would call for help– but why hadn't he?

It's already too late. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't– he couldn't– Magnus couldn't just leave–

"Alexander," Magnus tried to say, but his words were slurred now. "Alec, my Alec, stay with me. Just... stay wi' me."

Alec tried to swallow the lump in his throat so he could reply. But Magnus probably knew he was there, because he continued.

"You're a great dad, Alec. The bes'. The kids– our kids are so lucky to have you. I want you all to take care of each other. And, tell 'em I love 'em, please? I love them more than I ever thought would be possible to love someone. And you too. God, you. Even an eternity would've– wouldn't 'ave been enough time to tell you how much I love you. And–" he broke off again. "It doesn't 'urt now. I... want... you to, uh, know that. It doesn't hurt, it– I'm okay–"

Alec waited. He couldn't do anything else. He wanted to speak, to tell Magnus how he saved him, to tell him how he changed Alec's life forever, to tell him– there was so much he had to tell him, but his throat clogged up. He couldn't utter a single word. So he waited.

But Magnus didn't say anything. Alec kept waiting, holding his breath, but no reply came for a long time. After what felt like an eternity, he found his voice, only to whisper, "Magnus?"

When there still wasn't any reply, Alec broke.

#malec fic #malec drabble #malec angst #magnus lightwood bane #alec lightwood bane #aashi.writes*

164 notes · View notes

riversofmars · 3 years

Note

Prompt - - Post Library River coming to live in the Tardis with 13 and finding everything a complete mess or things just not done properly. (bonus if you do something about the waste tanks on deck 7)

Thank you for a brilliant prompt, hope you like it! <3

Word count: 1500

Rating: G

Call For Help

“Ah there you are, hello Swee… what the…“ River stopped mid-sentence as she closed the door behind herself and looked around the TARDIS. The TARDIS gave an unhappy wheeze and whimper and River was utterly dumbfounded.

“Right, okay, I see why you called.“ River gave the TARDIS a reassuring smile as she stepped over a large pile of tools. The console room was a mess, there was stuff everywhere. Tools, equipment, books, sheets of paper, blueprints, charts, messy notes… “Has she gone full on mad scientist now?“ River asked as she picked up some notes. The TARDIS just hummed helplessly. “Where is she?“

“How did you get in here?“ A voice sounded at the far end of the control room and River looked up.

“Oh, hello there.“ She greeted Yaz with a smile. “Door was open.“

“You can’t just walk inside the TARDIS.“ Yaz stated, unsure what to make of this mystery woman.

“Fair enough, she let me in, let’s say it was a call for help… looks like I got here just in time.“ River gestured to the mess all around.

“The TARDIS called you?“ Yaz frowned. She had never seen the woman before but so far, she didn’t appear dangerous.

“So where’s the Doctor hiding away?“ River asked with a kind smile, trying to reassure her. She realised that this was probably the first time Yaz was meeting her. Life as a time traveller was complicated, she couldn’t be sure. “Is she okay? Because this doesn’t inspire confidence… what happened?“

Yaz hesitated for a moment. It was obvious that this woman knew the Doctor and that the concern in her voice was genuine. The TARDIS’s encouraging humming convinced her to answer at last:

“Well, some of our friends decided to stay back on Earth and stopped travelling with us… she didn’t take it too well. I think it reminded her of the people she’d lost before now… But she keeps saying, not all those endings were final and there are some things she could fix, given time… so…“

“She threw herself into all sorts of research trying to undo past mistakes?“ River concluded and the TARDIS wheezed with confirmation too.

“I guess… We were meant to go travelling but she got sidetracked…“ Yaz help up the mop and bucket she was carrying. “Now the only travelling I’m doing is down to Deck 7 to clean up…“

“Waste tanks?“ River asked with a compassionate smile. “She always forgets those are down there…“

“Got emptied during some experiment or other… how do you know that’s what’s on Deck 7?“ Yaz frowned, feeling like she needed more information about her.

“The TARDIS and I go way back.“ River answered with a chuckle.

“So you’re a friend of the Doctor’s?“ Yaz confirmed.

“You could say that.“ River smiled. “Like I said, the TARDIS called for help, so here I am.“

“Are you going to get her out of her funk?“ Yaz asked hopefully. The Doctor had been very hard work the past few weeks.

“I shall certainly try my best.“ River confirmed. “Care to show me where she’s hiding?“

“This way.“ Yaz smiled and gestured for her to follow.

River followed Yaz and even the corridors along the way were messy. Things had been dropped, left for later or simply forgotten about.

“Doctor?“ Yaz called out as she opened the door to what River knew to be one of the many on-board laboratories.

“Not now, Yaz, really critical phase here, if I don’t get this to the right frequency it won’t work against the Vashta Nerada and you and me will be very sad looking skeletons.“ The Doctor retorted working some sort of huge transmitter.

“She keeping going on about this, really incredibly cheerful subject.“ Yaz sighed to River who just shook her head in disbelief at the state she was finding the Doctor in. The lab was even worse than the rest of the TARDIS. Equipment and books were stacked high, left over and forgotten about food and drinks was scattered everywhere. There were about five open packets of custard creams and amongst it all, the Doctor was wearing huge goggles to complete the messy scientist look. It seemed as though she hadn’t left this room in days.

“And once you get past the Vashta Nerada, what are you going to do then?“ River called out but the Doctor didn’t look up, she didn’t even seem to register someone else apart from Yaz being there.

“Well, there are several options, android body, clone, download to my phone for the time being if anything else fails.“ The Doctor replied with a shrug. “Damnit!“ She exclaimed when the transmitter she was working on suddenly started sparking and shut itself down.

“Or you could arrive a bit earlier than planned, before the Vashta Nerade swarm the place and destroy the body. You know Timelords, even ones that don’t have any regenerations left, take forever to die…“ River suggested watching in amusement how the Doctor still hadn’t realised she was there.

“My regenerative energy, theoretically my supply could be limitless…“ Her suggestion seemed to have reached the Doctor as she seemed to be contemplating it. “If she’s not dead yet, I could give some to her and… Yaz, that’s brilliant!“ The Doctor exclaimed as the penny dropped.

“Wasn’t actually me that suggested that…“ Yaz replied and River chuckled:

“You’ll have to forgive her, she’s probably not slept in days.“

“More like weeks…“ Yaz sighed.

“What…“ The Doctor turned towards them and took her goggles of, staring at them in shock.

“Yes, dear, I’m not a figment of your imagination. The TARDIS is rather concerned about you and I can see why…“ River smirked and gave her a little wave. “Love what you’ve done with the place…“ She looked around shaking her head at the mess in front of her.

“River…“ The Doctor spoke softly, not knowing whether to believe her eyes or not.

“Hang on, you’re River? River is who she’s trying to save!“ Yaz’s head whipped around as it occurred to her that she never bothered to ask for her name.

“It would appear so.“ River grinned.

“River, how are you here.“ The Doctor stepped closer and nearly fell over a pile of plates.

“Spoilers.“ River chuckled with a wink. “The TARDIS thought you might need a bit of cheering up and to show you that, yes, you will figure this out.“

“You just told me how to save you!“ The Doctor exclaimed as she skipped over the last obstacle and flung herself at River. River laughed and hugged her tightly.

“Did I?“ She feigned innocent. “I’m pretty sure you just figured that out for yourself. Secret to a successful marriage, Yaz. You put ideas in your spouse’s head and make them think they were their ideas all along, works every time.“ She winked at the young girl next to her as she let go of her wife.

“You’re… married?“ Yaz asked in surprise. The Doctor hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with information about the mystery woman she was so keen to save.

“Not even death can do us apart.“ River smiled and the Doctor tried her best to cover up the effect River’s sudden appearance was having on her. With a little sniff, she quickly wiped her face, trying to compose herself.

“You let your wife die, Doctor?“ Yaz crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned at the Doctor accusingly.

“I didn’t know she was my wife at the time…“ The Doctor replied averting her eyes in embarrassment. “And I’m trying to fix it, okay?“

“Yes and maybe you should also try tidying up around yourself every now and again, hm?“ River suggested playfully. “Eventually the TARDIS will kick you out… Like the last time you exploded inside her, she tipped you out.“

“She told you about that?“ The Doctor exclaimed.

“She tells me everything.“ River shrugged.

“Who’s side are you on?“ The Doctor called into the laboratory.

The TARDIS gave a wheeze and a hum that made River grin and the Doctor groan. Yaz laughed, the answer was pretty obvious without her being able to understand her like the other two seemed to.

“Get tidying, Doctor.“ River chuckled and hooked her arm around Yaz’s. “Let’s have afternoon tea, Yaz, get to know each other. You come join us when you’re done, Doctor!“ She waved goodbye to her wife and set off down the corridor towards the kitchen with Yaz.

“Do I not even get a kiss?“ The Doctor called after them.

“Not until you’ve tidied up your mess.“ River called back and Yaz laughed. She was sure that having the Doctor’s wife around would prove to be fun.

#doctor who #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #Space wives #river x thirteen #thirteen/river #fluff #Yasmin Khan #prompt #fanfiction #femslash

43 notes · View notes

stellacolletore · 3 years

Text

i know this much (you will never be enough) summary: Mashima Reiko is crazy, and rich, and the mother of the person she loves. note: title and blurb inspired by the film ‘crazy rich asians’ because reiko is basically eleanor

“If you’re not doing it, I will.”

Chihaya didn’t dare breath. A single move from her and she knew—she knew Sumire will see through her threat. Her thumb was perilously close to pressing the dial button. Should Chihaya say the wrong thing, she might end up having to answer to Mrs. Pressure without any mental preparation at all.

“Wait!” She pleaded. “I’ll call tonight. Promise.”

Sumire narrowed her eyes. Assured that Chihaya was completely serious about her resolution, Sumire handed the phone back to her.

Everyone in the club room exhaled. No bomb was unnecessarily detonated this afternoon, fortunately. “Man, you’re almost as scary as Mashima-san just now, Hanano-san.” Nishida remarked, finally able to swallow the pork bun in his hand.

Sumire sighed, still exasperated. “It’s been three days since I gave Ayase-senpai Mashima-san’s number. Forgive me if I sound impatient right now, because I totally am.”

Chihaya prostrated on the tatami. “Sorry, Sumire-chan!”

“Don’t be like that, Chihaya. We understand,” Kanade patted Chihaya’s head lightly. “But Sumire is right. Mashima-kun has been sick for three days already. We’re all very worried about him, just like you are.”

Komano fixed his glasses. “And as his unofficial girlfriend, the task to check up on him falls on you.”

Chihaya exhaled in defeat. She had ran away long enough.

It was time to face the inevitable.

Chihaya felt like coming down with the flu herself as she searched Mashima-san's contact number on her phone directory. It was a good thing she delayed eating dinner—her stomach was in knots just thinking about finally calling Taichi's terrifying mother and asking her a favor.

"You're a Queen, Chihaya," she muttered to herself, "You can do this."

Momentarily psyched up by her pep talk, she pressed the CALL button.

Clutching her Daddy Bear to her chest, she nervously waited for the other line to pick up.

"Moshi moshi. Mashima residence."

The voice unmistakably belonged to Mashima Reiko. Chihaya instinctively froze at the recognition, failing to follow through with a greeting.

"Hello? Who's ca—"

"It's Chihaya!" she blurted. Voice slightly shaky, she chattered, "Um, this is Chihaya. Good evening, Mrs. Pre—Mashima-san."

Reiko's voice instantly turned ice cold. "Ah, Chihaya-chan. It's a pleasure to receive your call at dinnertime."

Chihaya's eyes latched on the clock. Of course she'd end up calling at an absolutely inconvenient hour. She instantly replied, "I'm so sorry! It's just—I'd like to ask if Taichi's okay..."

She could hear a disappointed sigh. "If he is still unable to message you and your friends, I believe that means he's currently unwell. Now, do you have other questions, Chihaya-chan?"

Every nerve in her body was desperately begging for her to drop the line already, but if Chihaya would back down now, she's sure Sumire would find a way to still make the request, which may make things more difficult. Steeling herself, she took the plunge. "May I come over tomorrow?"

When she was met with silence, Chihaya rambled on, "I was asked by Tsukue-kun—I mean, his classmate—to deliver the notes for the lessons he missed. And our club members bought him oranges and apples and—"

"You may come tomorrow at five. You can help me prepare dinner."

Chihaya almost choked her stuff toy. This wasn't on the plan. "Sorry?"

"I believe you have excellent hearing, Chihaya-chan. Surely I won't need to repeat myself."

Like a soldier under scrutiny by her commander, she automatically replied, "Y - yes, Ma'am."

Pacified with her answer, Reiko said, "If that is all, then I must be going back to dinner. See you tomorrow."

"Thank you for your time, Mashima-san. S - see you tomorrow."

As soon as the call disconnected, Chihaya collapsed on the bed, energy spent. A minute later she got up, exited the room, and dashed down the stairs.

"Mom! Please teach me how to cook!"

"Woah—is meeting Taichi's mom really that scary for you?" Nishida inquired, staring at Chihaya's bloodshot eyes. "And what happened with those?" He pointed at Chihaya's freshly bandaged fingers.

Chihaya blinked rapidly, moistening her eyes. In between yawns, she explained, "I slept late. Mrs. Pressure asked me to help her with dinner so I had to learn how to chop vegetables. Perfectly."

Nishida gave her a comforting smile, "Ganbatte, Ayase. If you survive tonight, I'll treat you with pork buns for lunch tomorrow."

Resting her head on the desk, Chihaya muttered, "Thanks, Nikuman-kun."

Had Chihaya been a lucid dreamer, she would've realized that the castle was simply a representation of the Mashima house, the sleeping prince was Taichi all along, and the fire breathing dragon guarding the gate was definitely Mashima Reiko. If she were, she may not have woken up with a start, embarrassing herself in the middle of Fukasaku-sensei's class.

Looking at how messed up Chihaya was, Nishida began to doubt if he'd be able to buy her pork buns the next day.

It's okay, Chihaya, she's not really a dragon, she inwardly declared. She pressed the doorbell with her free hand, and then sighed in relief when she found Rika peering excitedly at her from the entranceway.

"Welcome, Chihaya-chan!" Taichi's younger sister greeted. Quirking an eyebrow at her, she then questioned, "Do you want some water? You look pale."

Chihaya waved her worry away. "I'm fine."

Locating Reiko at the kitchen, Chihaya presented the basket clutched in her hand. "G - good afternoon, Mashima-san. This is from everyone in the club." She proceeded to extract Komano's papers from her bag. "And these are the notes from Tsukue-kun."

"Please extend our gratitude to them, Chihaya-chan." Reiko took the basket and began to put the fruits inside the refrigerator. "You can leave the notes on Taichi's desk later."

Chihaya's heart skipped a beat. For all the stress she had gone through in the past twenty-four hours, the prospect of actually visiting Taichi had been at the back seat on her mind, overshadowed by the daunting ordeal of dealing with Mrs. Pressure without her son's intervention. Her thoughts led her to look in the direction of Taichi's bedroom.

She had never seen Taichi this sick, and she dearly hoped she could help him recover, if only a little.

She heard Reiko clear her throat. "You may see him as soon as we finished making dinner."

Chihaya's gaze snapped back to Reiko. "H - hai."

Reiko seemed to consider something, staring at her with a surprisingly concerned expression. "Would you like to have some tea first? Your face is pale."

Chihaya slapped her cheeks in response, giving some color to them. "I'm okay!" Encouraged by the thinly-veiled worry for her wellbeing reflected in Reiko's eyes, Chihaya attempted a smile, "I'm ready."

Having tried her hand in kitchen work for the first time last night, Chihaya could recognize how admirable Mashima Reiko moved through the space, retrieving cooking tools from the cupboards and ingredients from the refrigerator with exceptional grace. Taichi must have inherited his poise from his mother.

Chihaya put the vegetables in the strainer and headed to the sink. "I'll wash these up, Mashima-san."

Reiko hummed in agreement. "I'll be seasoning the meat." She turned to her daughter perched on the dining table stool, happily watching over the two of them. "Go work on your homework, Rika. You have nothing to do here."

Rika started to protest. "But I wanna see—" her words were cut abruptly, and from behind her Chihaya could guess that Mrs. Pressure had given Rika her intimidating gaze.

If Mashima Reiko were karuta Queen, Chihaya was sure she'd never become a challenger. If she did, she would have to play blindfolded, just so she can avoid that look.

"Fine," Rika relented. "Ganbatte, Chihaya-chan." She proceeded to go upstairs, leaving Chihaya and Reiko alone.

Finishing her first task, Chihaya deposited the vegetables on the container next to the chopping board.

Time to show what I've practiced. She picked up a medium-sized knife and was about to slice the head of a cabbage when Reiko suddenly ordered, "Stop."

Chihaya stared at her, dumbfounded. Was she already deemed a failure? That fast?

Reiko withdrew the knife from her hands. Then she remarked. "Your fingers are hurt."

Chihaya blinked. "They're all right. I can still—"

"Take a sit over there and just watch me, Chihaya-chan," Reiko instructed, her tone clearly expressing that Chihaya have no other choice but to follow. Flustered, Chihaya merely nodded, settling on the stool Rika had previously occupied.

Reiko continued preparing the meal, making Chihaya feel more and more anxious at being utterly unhelpful each second that passed. She knew she should attempt to make small talk, but her mind can't come up with any dialogue, not even about the weather.

It was Reiko that broke the silence. "If I remember correctly, you've injured your hand once before. Was playing karuta that challenging?"

Taken aback by Reiko's recollection, Chihaya failed to filter her thoughts. "Harada-sensei trained me harder so I won't get injured like that again. I, um, got these last night chopping carrots."

As soon as the words were left hanging in the air, Chihaya bit her lip. Please don't think much about it please don't think much about it please don't—

Reiko stopped swirling the ladle in the pot. Chihaya held her breath, preparing herself for whatever it was that will come out of Mrs. Pressure's lips.

Her imagination couldn't have predicted what she had finally said. Not in a million years.

"You know, I never disliked you, Chihaya-chan." Reiko resumed her motions, "Just how early you arrived."

Even though they were merely two sentences, Chihaya couldn't begin to grasp what Mrs. Pressure was telling her.

Even without Chihaya's prompting, Reiko elaborated, "When I became a mother, I promised to myself that I will raise my child with the same standards that my parents had set for me." Having finished cooking the broth, she turned off the stove. Reaching for the box of genmaicha tea, she continued, "Fortunately, I hadn't had much trouble with Taichi. He is naturally brilliant and determined. He listens to my demands and takes on the challenges I set for him. But then one day he came home saying he wants to be good at playing this obscure game,"—Chihaya straightened up, ready for a lecture—"and it worried me, not just because it wasn't in my plans, but also because the game came from a girl that has taken more than his attention, even though he's unaware of it at the time."

Reiko poured hot water on two porcelain cups, then submerged the tea kernels in them. "Just as how my parents had given me freedom to choose the person I like, I must give the same choice to my children. But you happened to come into Taichi's life far earlier than when Oligo came into mine, and I can't help but treat you with unwarranted hostility for that." Reiko gave her a stricken smile, "But maybe it was for the better. If I had Taichi controlled for all these years, he might have been leading a broken life by now." She slid one cup towards Chihaya. "I suppose I owe you both an apology and my thanks, Chihaya-chan."

Unable to completely digest the sudden disclosure from Reiko, Chihaya could only refute her last statement. "That's not true! Taichi is the person he is right now because of your efforts, Mashima-san." Chihaya recalled a moment from way back their first team tournament as a seven-membered club. She relayed the details of the event to her, narrating how Taichi had uncharacteristically snapped at Tsukuba for arguing with the word 'but' all over his sentences, declaring that a man has no use for the word. Chihaya had then commented how Reiko's strictness with Taichi had disciplined him, allowing him to become strong in his own way.

This time it was Reiko who was rendered speechless. Chihaya sipped the tea, finding her nerves settling. After finishing her cup, she shyly ventured, "If you will, I'd like to take up Taichi's dinner with the notes now, Mashima-san."

Composing herself, Reiko nodded, then started assembling the food.

She found Taichi covered under layers of blankets when she entered his room. Setting the tray on the study desk, Chihay tiptoed towards his huddled figure.

She rested a hand on his arm, finding it awfully warm. "Passing Todai must've been so hard, ne, Taichi?" She swapped the dry towelette for a cool one, setting it on his forehead. Feeling the sudden chill, Taichi stirred. His amber eyes connected with Chihaya's, and he muttered weakly, "Now I'm delirious."

Chihaya chuckled, placing a hand on his cheek. "Not yet. I'm real."

Taichi sounded genuinely lost when he insisted, "You can't be. You'd have to get past my Mom to be here, and you're terrified of her."

Chihaya perked up, "About that..." she decided against telling him about her upgraded relationship with Mrs. Pressure. Taichi would be more convinced that he was hallucinating if she did. Instead, she took his hand. "Everyone was worried about you. Please get well soon, Taichi. I missed beating you in matches."

Taichi grinned mischievously, "You could leave out the beating at matches part."

Chihaya felt her face warm. "Fine, just because you're sick this time. I missed you, Taichi."

Satisfied at her admission, and perhaps still feeling very much unwell, Taichi began to drift off again. Checking her wristwatch, Chihaya noted that there was still an hour before he had to take his medicine.

Reaching up to gently caress his head, Chihaya found herself narrating, "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful prince who was stuck in a castle. There was a big, fire breathing dragon at the gates and everyone in the land was afraid of her. It turns out, the dragon wasn't bad at all, and so when the princess..."

#Chihayafuru #taichihaya #Ayase Chihaya #Mashima Taichi #Mashima Reiko #Mashima Rika #Hanano Sumire #Ooe Kanade #Nishida Yuusei #Komano Tsutomu #come talk taichihaya with me!

22 notes · View notes

drethanramslay · 4 years

Note

26, 58 and 61 for ethan x mc please? like angst in the beginning but fluff in the end. thanks!! i love your fanfics btw i read it like 100 times and i can’t seem to get over it.

Aww thanks anon ☺️ and thank you for the ask ❤️❤️

You can find the prompt list here.

#26-“Are you angry…?”

#58-“Where have you been?!”

#61-“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have done that, you can look after yourself…I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” this prompt is in the form of a text message

Author's note: okay anon I know you wanted a fluffy ending BUT, I decided to write it as a continuation to Hard for me i.e the prompt in which people demanded asked for a part 2

So forgive me for the ending

Word count: 1.2K

Warning: none, it's just angsty as hell

Cry for me

The next one week was painful.

Ethan's confession in the lift had left Leah in a flux of emotions. On one hand she was joyous that he returned her feelings and that he was all in.

But on the other hand she felt gut wrenching guilt which slowly started eating away at her sanity. She was in a relationship with Bryce. She had a freaking boyfriend but that still didn't stop her from pining for Ethan.

She was so lost in her thoughts half the times, zoning in and out of conversations. Bryce could see something bothering her so he slowly formulating a plan to cheer her up.

"Hey Princess?" Bryce asked as they drove to the hospital.

Leah snapped her head towards Bryce. "Yeah?"

“Are you angry…? Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not, queen B!" I am angry with myself and the world.

"I just... Can't see you so down and lost. You know you can talk to me, right?"

I don't think I can talk about how I am completely and utterly in love with my boss and the fact that he returns the sentiments.

"Yap I know. It's just been a stressful week, y'know?"

"What if we have a movie night today? We can eat junk food and laugh on trashy movies?" Bryce spoke up as they got out of the car.

"That's exactly the thing I need. Thank you Bryce." Leah smiled at him and wrapped her arm around his waist, giving him a side hug.

Bryce gave her a breathtaking smile and wrapped his arms around her. "Anything for you Leah."

As they stood there, with their arms around each other in the parking lot, Leah failed to notice a pair of stormy blue eyes burning into her back.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- After changing into her scrubs and grabbing a coffee from the coffee cart, Leah made her way towards Ethan's office. June and Baz were sitting and drinking coffee, pouring over the charts while Ethan wrote on the whiteboard.

"Good morning team." Leah greeted them with a smile.

"Good morning, Leah!"

"Good morning, Dr. Garcia."

"You are late. Where have you been?"

Leah's eyes snapped to the clock above the whiteboard.

8:00 am.

"I was getting the charts. And I am not late. We start the meeting at 8am." Leah said as she placed her laptop and coffee on the table.

"Dr. Garcia, this is not your 9 to 5 corporate job where you enter and leave at a given time. You are a doctor and time should cease to exist because our patient's life is in the palm of our hands. Every minute you spend wasting time, that much is cut from our patient's life. Have you forgotten your Hippocrates oath?"

Leah wanted to answer back, but she bit her tongue. NOT worth it Leah, calm down.

So clenching her jaw and swallowing down the humiliation, she responded in a curt voice. "Yes Doctor."

"Tardiness in not acceptable. Is that clear?"

Baz interrupted, trying to diffuse the situation. "Ethan she wasn't even that lat-"

Cutting Baz off, his icy eyes bored into her angry hazel ones. "Dr. Garcia, am I clear?"

"Crystal." Leah spoke up, glaring at Ethan.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- And that's how the entire day continued. When working the case they were like a well oiled machine but outside in the hallways, they would glare at each other as if they wanted to kill each other.

The tension between Ethan was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. They butted heads throughout the duration of the shift that even the staff noticed.

Leah felt like a ticking time bomb, threatening to explode. Anger, frustration and pain is a very dangerous cocktail together, and now she had all of them whirling inside her like a tornado.

I'm gonna fucking confront him. That son of a bitch has it coming. Leah thought to herself, her teeth grinding.

So when she saw Ethan head towards the stairwell, she followed him.

"Dr. Ramsey, wait up."

"If it isn't patient related, don't bother me."

Leah rushed after him and grabbed him by his elbow with incredible strength, causing him to stop and turn towards her.

"What has gotten over you Ethan?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." He crossed his arms and stood there, towering over her.

"You are a smart guy. Acting dumb doesn't suit you. Now, let's try again, what has happened that has made you so pissed with me?"

"Rookie, I'm not mad at you."

"Yes you are!! You said Rookie in B flat and that only happens when I have royally pissed you off. And last time I checked I haven't done anything wrong-"

"What you did wrong, was crash into my life. What you did wrong, was try to cheer me up on a bad day. What you did wrong, was comfort me in my pain. What you did wrong was have faith in me when I was in doubt. What you did wrong, was make me fall for you."

Leah's jaw dropped. What sort of backhanded compliment was that? Clearing her throat and squashing the butterflies in her stomach, she spoke. "Ethan you can't say things like this to me."

"Why not? It's the truth. I like you way too much for my liking." He said in a low voice.

Leah threw her hands in the air. "Because, I am in a freaking relationship! You had your chance and you blew it. Don't Gove me mixed feelings now."

"I-"

"No now you will listen. You pushed me away. You said that you wanted space. You wanted my professional development. You wanted things to go back to normal. This is the new normal, okay? Accept it."

For a first time in a very long time, he looked helpless and guilty. "I was so wrong sunshine..."

Leah stuffed her hands in her coat and looked down at her lavender converse. She was at a complete loss of words. If things would have been easier she would have kissed him and hugged the sadness out of him.

But life is complicated. And everything has a price.

"So that's it huh? So..." Gulping Ethan continued, "You are over me?"

Silence.

Her brain was screaming at her to say yes and to move on from the angsty and painful chapter of her life. But she could not get herself to say it.

"If things were not as fucked up as they were... Do you think we would be a thing?"

Sighing she patted his arm. "I think you are smart enough to figure that out."

Leah side stepped him and climbed down the steps and opened the door of the stairwell to find Bryce standing there, a deer caught in the headlight expression on his face.

Leah greeted him, curiosity laced in her voice. "H..hey?"

Bryce immediately turned and started walking away fast.

"Bryce wait up."

This is some deja vu.

Bryce stopped and turned towards her, pain shining in his eyes. "Is it true?"

"What?"

"That you have feelings for Dr. Ramsey."

Shit shit shit. An alarm went on in her brain which caused her to freeze up.

"I-" Leah started but she was interrupted.

"I heard everything."

Leah took a deep breath. Cat’s out of the bag. No point denying it. "Please don't jump to conclusions. I-" her pager beeped, signalling that a VIP patient had arrived and she sighed.

"I need to go now. I will talk to you tonight. Please don't do anything rash. I beg you."

Without saying a word, Bryce shrugged and walked away.

Why is does it feel like the two important men of my life walked away from me in a span of 2 minutes?

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

It was nine in the night and Leah was finally done with her rounds. Wearing her jeans and jumper, she tied her hair long black locks into a messy bun and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Letting out a breath, she gave herself a pep talk. Okay Leah... You have to make a decision. You are not Hannah Montana. You can't have the best of both worl-

Her phone pinged, interrupting her. She picked it up to see that it was a text from Ethan.

Letting out a sigh, she picked up her messenger bag and walked out of the hospital, only one thing running in her head.

Who do I listen to? My head thats telling me that Ethan will hurt me again and that Bryce is better? Or my heart which tells me that Ethan is my one shot at true love?

It was painful to write this

Also the last part got 88 notes so lets get this to 90 notes so that I have motivation to write part 3 heheheheh

what do you think will happen in the next part?

ALSO GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS FOR WHAT I SHOULD NAME THIS SERIES

I love you guys

Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms @oofchoices @agent-breakdance @dailydoseofchoices @tyrilstouch @siaramsey @theeccentricbibliophile @ac27dj @ramseysno1rookie @justanotherrookie @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @checkurwindow @chasingrobbie @junggoku @bellcat2010 @choicesstan1 @mvalentine @crazynutella @hatescapsicum @anonymously-cool @nooruleman @sanvivrma

Ethan x MC Taglist: @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @pixelberryownsme @samihatuli @loveellamae @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @zeniamiii @binny1985 @an-urban-witch-ig @ramseyegerton @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey @newcolonies @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs @choices-love-affair @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @ohramsey @squishywizardhq @junehiratas @lilyvalentine @itsgoingnuts @choicesfanaf @humanpokemon @temptress-of-death-and-desire @rookiefromedenbrook @courtesanofedenbrook @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter @fabi-en-ciel @mrsdrakewalkerblog @elwetritsche75 @livingpurpose @drramseysownsme @queencarb @andromedasinclaire @schnitzelbutterfingers @thanialis @floatingmeera @rookieoh @ethanramseyswhore @lucy-268 @big-yikers @have-aheart @whimsicalreader @tsrookie @itschoicesfanaf @lilypills @mals-chesthair @raleigheffingcarrera @utterlyinevitable @choices-fangirl-yeet @rookie-ramsey @papinaveensbitch @custaroonie @helloayzcream @hyperlightgrifter

#anushka writes #writing prompts #oh Ethan #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #dr ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey one shot #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart mc #open heart 2 #ohsy #choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry

129 notes · View notes

homeformyheart · 3 years

Text

until now - m!raleigh carrera x mc (plat)

author’s note: trying my hand at a shorter piece and for platinum – there will probably be at least one follow-up to this but both will stay as one-shots.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. songs and lyrics owned by their respective creators. series/pairing: platinum – raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian); mentions of jessica clark (red carpet diaries mc) rating/warnings: 13+; swearing, infidelity, angst word count: 1.7k based on/prompt: “should’ve said no” by taylor swift summary: raleigh gets too drunk and too close to a fan and the only real relationship he’s ever had falls apart.

until now

cadence could recall exactly where she was the moment r&b’s timebomb blew up the internet. she couldn’t recall with detail how she felt or how she reacted in that immediate moment but she could describe the exact shade of brown from her morning latte that stained the open page of her notebook because she stared at it for a solid five minutes after the headlines broke. she was working on a new single for her upcoming album that needed an angsty, heartbreak vibe to balance the upbeat, love-focused songs she had already written. she had a few lines written (it’s strange to think the songs we used to sing / the smiles, the flowers, everything) but had been struggling with motivation to come up with anything more – after all, she hadn’t been heartbroken in a while.

she was happy in her relationship with raleigh and where she was in her career. her first world tour had been a huge success, with raleigh joining her on tour as often as he could. after her tour was over, he insisted he didn’t want to wake up in his apartment without her and it didn’t take long before cadence moved into his penthouse. a few months later, she was able to join raleigh for the beginning of his transformation world tour, his first album since deciding he could embrace the things he enjoyed from his sunset skatepark days, making it his most personal project to date. of course, whenever the music and obligations to the studio called her back to new york, they facetimed as much as they could.

dating cadence had given raleigh some of the “good boyfriend” brownie points with the public related to loyalty and affection. it helped that cadence defended him against unfair accusations and doubled down on how well he treated her to the media and their fans. and no matter what part of his reputation was theme-of-the-week over at the tabloids – shameless flirt, heartbreaker, wild card, adrenaline junkie, to name the popular ones – raleigh never gave anyone a reason to label him as a cheater and more importantly, never gave cadence any reason not to trust him. even in his fake relationships, raleigh made sure that that part of his reputation was sterling. until now.

her phone had buzzed non-stop when the news broke – to the point where she thought she was getting phone calls that sounded like a ticking time bomb but they were mostly texts and social media notifications. the headlines filled her feed one after another – “raleigh carerra cheats on cadence dorian!” “did ralence break-up?” “was cadence too boring for raleigh?” “cadence drives raleigh into arms of another woman!” – along with hundreds of theories painted by devastated and thirsty fans alike who picked apart every public appearance, interaction, social media post, and song lyric associated with the two of them for the past six months as if they could find incriminating clues and signs of a slowly fizzling relationship like amateur sleuths. cadence had to give them props – it’s not like she wouldn’t eventually do the same once she was ready to process the relationship; in some ways, the fans gave her a head start.

how was she supposed to react to this right now? the photos and videos definitely highlighted that sabrina simmons, who cadence vaguely recognized as a media-hungry and wannabe actress from one of raleigh’s older music videos, cozying up to and grinding on raleigh at a club in london, presumably the afterparty for the closing night of his tour. cadence could also point out every tell-tale sign that raleigh was drunk out of his mind; he was relishing in the attention from sabrina and being inappropriately handsy for someone in a well-known, committed relationship. what most people didn’t know, was that cadence could forgive that – raleigh was normally flirty and handsy and alcohol always exacerbated it. what she didn’t think she could forgive was the next thing she saw – or rather heard.

if cadence felt like she was close to either having a raging smash-everything-breakable-in-raleigh’s-apartment spree or an emotional-because-her-heart-was-actually-breaking meltdown, the audio clip that hit her inbox pushed her to the teetering edge of both. the recording was barely 15 seconds long but it was damning. given the circumstances, it was probably planted or planned by sabrina who wanted to catapult herself into internet fame by taking advantage of raleigh’s reputation. her voice could be heard asking him if he wanted to come back to her hotel room. the question didn’t matter to cadence though, because raleigh’s response – “fuck yes” – was clear as day and cadence knew it would haunt her for months to come.

[jessica: just saw the videos – u ok? i’m heading home to iowa for a break from work, come stay with me, no one will find you there]

cadence quickly typed out a text reply, grateful for the close friendship she had with jessica clarke, the actress-turned-director who directed the music video for her last single. there was only one call she needed to make. if anyone was already putting things in motion, it was fiona. right on cue, she picked up and before cadence could say two words, said, “i’m so sorry cadence. i’ve already got movers on the other line and hank’s on his way.”

“thanks fiona. i’m going to stay with jessica in iowa and lay low for a bit. raleigh is not allowed to find out where i am; i will get a new phone if i need to,” cadence said, calmly starting to pull out and sort her things from raleigh’s closet so the movers would know exactly what to pack while she ironed out a few more details with fiona.

raleigh was still way too drunk when his manager barged into his hotel room and forced him into the shower. he was very drunk when his security team had to half-drag him all the way to where the private jet was waiting at the airport. he was mostly drunk throughout the eight-hour flight back to new york and progressed to staggeringly hungover by the time he was in a private car heading back to his penthouse apartment. once raleigh felt like he was only massively hungover, he pulled out his phone to text cadence. he became only mostly hungover after seeing that his texts weren’t going through. in a matter of seconds, his now slightly hungover state took a backseat to the anxiety filling his stomach as he tried calling to no avail. he frowned as he opened his news feed. the headlines alone made his eyes widen but the videos were what sobered him up the rest of the way.

a new email in his inbox from cadence caught his eye. it was an audio clip and a straightforward message: just so we’re clear, our relationship is over.

cadence was halfway to the airport when she saw the incoming call from an unknown number. she knew it was probably raleigh since she had blocked his number, but she answered the call anyway. she knew she was going to need the closure, may as well get it out of the way.

“cadence? it’s me, please don’t hang up. i’m so sorry, babe. i have no idea what happened, believe me. i woke up in my own hotel room alone, i promise,” raleigh begged, the pit in his stomach had lodged itself in his throat, threatening to turn into tears.

she chose to ignore what he just said. if she let herself pull at that thread and dig into it further to see if it was the truth, she’d never be able to end things cleanly. “tell me this – was she worth it? was she worth this?” she asked, her voice hardened as a reminder to both herself and raleigh that he couldn’t sweet talk his way out of this one.

“of course not. i was black out drunk and don’t remember anything, i swear. all of the stuff in the videos and photos, it was all just—” raleigh’s voice softened, “a moment of weakness.”

“that’s convenient since i’m pretty sure this wasn’t an isolated moment,” cadence said in a clipped tone, examining her worn nail beds. she made a mental note to ask jessica for salon recommendations in her hometown. “do you honestly expect me to believe we could ever be the same?”

“i love you, cadence. i would never cheat on you, babe – you have to believe me,” raleigh pleaded, swallowing his pride at the fact that he was begging right now.

cadence let out a dry, humorless laugh. “i don’t have to do anything, those recordings speak for themselves. you should’ve known that what you did with her would get back to me. and you know what i think? you knew what you were doing. you actually had everything you could’ve ever wanted – the fame, fortune, and creative freedom that comes with success in this industry and something real with someone who cares about the real you, not the curated, fake version of you.”

she paused to take a deep breath and blink back the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. keep it together, cadence, she told herself. “and it scared the shit out of you, didn’t it? it got too real for you because having something real and precious as love in your life also means you could lose it too. and even the thought of that happening made you feel so vulnerable that instead of treasuring and protecting it you decided to utterly destroy the only real relationship you’ve ever had. congratulations – you’ve perfected your bad boy reputation and collected the last trophy you needed, cheater.”

her words cut right through him. “i— i’m so sorry, cadence,” raleigh whispered into the phone. “i swear, i don’t remember saying yes to her or even doing anything with her. please just, tell me what i need to do to fix this.”

the audio recording replayed on loop in cadence’s mind. after a long pause, she whispered back, “you should’ve said no.” the finality of cadence’s tone was punctuated by the beep from his phone indicating she had hung up.

raleigh stood up from the couch where he had sat while on the phone with cadence. as he walked toward the bathroom, he finally looked around his apartment and realized that all of her stuff was gone. the apartment was empty, quiet, almost sterile with its clear surface areas and shiny, clean floors. it was like she had never lived here; his closet didn’t have the hint of jasmine from the perfume on her clothes, his sink counter was devoid of her jewelry and makeup, his music room wasn’t drowning in loose sheets of paper covered in her handwriting, and worst of all, the clothes she always borrowed of his, including his oversized tour shirts and sweatpants, were folded neatly on his bed.

he reached into the back corner of his closet, the side closest to the door, where no one ever stored or looked for anything until he found his gym bag. his felt around the old shirts in the bag until his fingers wrapped around a small, velvet box. he didn’t have to open it to recall the vivid five-carat emerald-cut diamond ring he had planned on proposing to cadence with. he held the box against his forehead, hand clenched around it, before throwing it as hard as he could out the bedroom door into the living room, twisting and turning his body from a crouching to an upright position in one smooth motion. maybe he should’ve been a baseball pitcher instead. it hit the far wall with a resounding thud.

the echo reverberated throughout his living room until it was met with silence, once again reminding him that he was utterly alone. and for the first time in a very long time, he cried. raleigh carrera had never been heartbroken before. until now.

* * * * * mentions: @raleigh-edward; @dulceghernandez; @thegreentwin; @kat-tia801; @otherworldlypresents; @brycesgirl; @robintora;

#reposting for new blog #choices #pb choices #playchoices #raleigh carrera #raleigh x mc #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x cadence #choices fanfic #choices fanfics #playchoices fanfiction #my writing #not twc #choices platinum #choices fic writers creations #raleigh carrera x cadence dorian #my choices fics

19 notes · View notes

the-power-of-stuff · 4 years

Text

sukka modern AU road trip drabble #2

I am actually working on regular fic-sized fics, but whenever I get blocked, this road trip universe is a fun prompt for me. I’ve been on a few cross-country road trips, and apparently those experiences have given me a bunch of Suki x Sokka fodder...

Also, uh, I don’t have a backstory for this or anything, since it’s just drabbles, so please forgive the fact that evidently in this universe Sokka does not come from a place with tons of snow. 😅

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

“Alright, maestro,” Suki said, smacking a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before burrowing herself under the covers. Sokka absently kissed the air where her face had been, distracted by the weather forecast on his phone. “What time do we have to leave in the morning?”

“Crap…” Sokka replied after scrolling frantically through the article he was reading.

“What is it?”

“The forecast… Ten to fourteen inches of snow in the higher elevations, and this storm is passing right through our route.” He swiped quickly to another news report, then to a live traffic camera feed of the main highway. It looked clear now, but the snow wasn’t supposed to start until the next day. “Dammit, how could I have missed this?”

He should’ve known. It was late October, in the mountains, of course there would be snow during this trip. They’d even gone out of their way to buy tire chains for the car just in case, but those were supposed to be more of an emergency situation kind of thing. He certainly hadn’t intended to drive through a huge snow storm. He didn’t even know how to use tire chains. It just felt like they’d be inviting disaster if they didn’t have them.

Suki placed her hand on Sokka’s knee and squeezed.

“Babe, it’s okay. Why don’t we just stay here an extra day? We’ll just skip whatever we had planned for tomorrow to make up the time.”

He whimpered a little thinking about it. They’d been planning to stop at this amazing donut shop in a city about an hour away the next morning, and he’d had his eye on a giant chocolate-glazed Oreo donut filled with Bavarian cream as well as these things called 8-hour fritters. He wasn’t sure how a regular fritter became an 8-hour fritter, but they were covered in a crackly sugar glaze and came in cherry-pineapple and that was all he’d needed to know.

But there would be no donuts. Frowning, he turned his phone screen towards Suki so she could see the seven straight days of snowfall indicated on the weather app.

“If we stay, we might get stuck here, for who knows how long.”

“Okay, well...we’ll leave super early in the morning, try to beat the storm.”

It was the only thing that made sense. They’d have to leave hours earlier than they’d planned, and skip everything they’d been hoping to do in the mountains -- no donuts, no hiking, no hot springs. Then they’d be in the next city well in advance of check-in time at the next hotel, but--

“And if you’re going to be up all night worrying about this, I can do the drive,” Suki offered, interrupting his thoughts.

His frown deepened. He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant that as a dig, but when he replied, it was with indignation.

“I am not worrying, I’m planning. They are very different things.”

The next morning, Sokka groggily handed the car keys over to Suki.

“Turns out staying up all night planning and staying up all night worrying have the same outcome,” was his grumpy surrender. But at least he’d found several options for killing time once they arrived at their next destination.

Suki held his face between her hands when she kissed him and studied him for a moment after she pulled back.

“Thank you for planning for us so well and taking such good care of us.”

The kiss and her words soothed some of his ragged edges, and he bumped her nose with his before getting into the passenger seat.

An hour into the drive, the snow started. They’d climbed a few thousand feet in elevation since their departure, and Sokka was anxiously -- no, prudently -- watching the shoulders of the highway for accumulation and ice. There was barely a dusting on the grass off the shoulder, but they kept passing electronic signs proclaiming that tire traction and chain laws were in effect, so the way he saw it, one could never be too careful.

And Suki’s driving was perfectly fine, at least when she wasn’t flooring the gas to accelerate past trucks that had slowed in the weather.

“Suk, don’t you think maybe, given all these flashing warning signs out here, that you should pass those trucks a little more...gingerly?”

“Sokka, it’s fine. The roads are no worse than driving through some light rain.”

“But we’re gaining, like, two-hundred feet in elevation every minute, which makes the state of the roads unpredictable-”

“Yes, but you can tell they’ve been salted-”

“They’re still slick-”

“Sokka, I know how to drive!”

The car suddenly jerked to one side.

“Suki!”

“That was the wind! We got buffeted by that truck’s slipstream!”

Sokka saw Suki’s shoulders tighten as she took a deep breath and held. When she exhaled, her mouth scrunched to one side of her face, and he watched as her grip flexed a couple times on the steering wheel.

“Sokka,” she finally said, voice pointedly even. “I’ll slow down, but you should have just told me you were uncomfortable, instead of doubting my awareness of the risks.”

He nodded, too chastened to say anything, and shifted his gaze back out the passenger side window. The next time they passed a truck, it was by creeping degrees, and even though his anxiety had lessened, his stomach felt a little sour.

That night, Suki sat watching the snow from the safety of their hotel room, and Sokka watched her from where he was lounging on the bed. They’d managed to beat the worst of the storm, and although the drive had been mostly uneventful, Sokka was relieved to have the riskiest part of their journey well behind them.

Suki was cradling a mug of cinnamon-flavored hot toddy, courtesy of the hotel bar, and had curled up in a chair by the window. Sokka could see her face in the window’s reflection, a soft and dreamy expression cast in the orange glow of the overhead light. After taking a shower, she’d put her hair up and changed into a loose, oversized sweatshirt, and she looked so cozy and beautiful his heart felt like it could burst.

“It’s so pretty out. Like a snow globe. You should come see.”

She turned to look at him. Her cheeks were a little rosy from her drink, which made her eyes look somehow both darker and more vibrant, and how was it possible that she was causing him physical pain right now?

“I can see how nice it is from here,” he said, giving her what he thought of as his Extra Charming grin. She smiled back at him warmly and only rolled her eyes a little bit, so he considered the gesture a success. “Want to come watch scary movies with me?”

Seriously, if she kept looking at him like that, all glowy and earnest, he was going to combust. He figured part of it was the beer he’d been nursing since they’d settled into their room, and part of it was the euphoria brought on by the catharsis he’d experienced after getting through the mountains, but mostly it was just the fact that he was so utterly, completely gone for this girl.

“Let’s watch Dream Warriors,” she suggested, eyes bright as she made her way over to the bed.

Once she was snuggled up against him, Sokka pressed his nose to the crown of her head and whispered into her hair, “I’m sorry.”

Suki pulled away with a look of surprise.

“For what?”

“For yelling at you in the car. For doubting you.”

“Sokka…” she smiled that warm smile again. Without the eye roll this time. “It’s okay.” Then she leaned up to kiss him, and he tasted cinnamon and bourbon on her lips. She tasted like comfort. “It was a stressful day. And you were sleep deprived. And you can’t stand not being in control.”

“Hey!”

“So, I forgive you. But only because you’re going to do all the driving tomorrow.” Her smile was broad and innocent.

He sighed. “Fair.” And then he kissed her forehead. “Thank you. For driving the whole way today. And for taking such good care of us.”

Suki brushed her nose against his, mimicking his response to the same words she’d given him that morning.

“Okay,” he said, getting the movie ready after a few moments of simply basking in her. “Let’s get this show on the road. Or should I say, on Elm Street.”

He grinned cheekily when Suki slid a narrow sideways glance his way, one of her eyebrows arched.

“Hey, Freddy Krueger? I hardly know her!”

“Sokka! Oh my god, just start the movie!”

sukka modern au road trip drabble #1

#sukka #suki x sokka #sokka x suki #fic #drabble #sukka roadtrip au

44 notes · View notes

that-one-fandom-vore-blog · 4 years

Note

If you’re doing the 6 word thing still, how about: fearplay? Whatever characters you want I’m love anything you write

AHHH YOU’RE SO SWEET! This fic, however, is not. Sam needs a hug. And some therapy. Nightmares... ain’t the best, are they?

Faster. She needed to go faster.

Sam’s legs were pumping a mile a minute, breaths coming harshly enough that she felt almost like she was choking on the air her body desperately took in. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her on her feet as she tried to find somewhere to hide— anywhere— in the space she ounce found familiar. Anywhere he wouldn’t look. Anywhere she could cram herself that he couldn’t reach.

A despaired sob threatened to rise up from her throat, though she choked it back. What had she done wrong?! She was a careful girl. She watched what she said. She kept her emotions close to her chest— she played by the rules, she thought she was understanding, she thought that she was cared for, thought that she was—

The sound of his footsteps getting close enough to vibrate the floor beneath her feet caused her train of thought to jump between tracks. He wasn’t running. He didn’t have to. She hated how leisurely his pace was compared to her own, like he had all the time in the world. He practically did. She hated that he did. He didn’t even have to try.

Her gaze shot across the enormous hose from the ground. She couldn’t stop. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t plan— she didn’t have time to plan— as she searched in desperation for a place to hide. Maybe if she hid herself well enough, she could call for help. Her phone was in her pocket, the weight alone enough to give her a frenzied sort of hope. She just had to get somewhere that he couldn’t—

Her eyes settled on a halfway open cupboard, the door hanging just crookedly enough that she’d be able to slip in without making it creak. She didn’t break stride. Gasping, trying to stay quiet despite the terror welling up through her, trying not to make a sound, Sam hurtled toward the opening. Faster. Faster.

“Do you have to run?”

The second that sickly sweet voice reached her ears— a voice that she’d thought she could trust— was the second that Sam was concealed by the musty darkness of the cupboard. Her heart was beating heavily in her throat, clammy, shaky hands clenching and unclenching rapidly at her sides. Through the crack of the cupboard door, the thin sliver of light she had began to disappear, his shadow swallowing her alive. Just like he had threatened to—

“If you’re hiding, don’t bother. I’ll find you easily enough.”

One of her hands clamped tight over her mouth in an attempt to muffle her harsh, heavy breathing. She could practically taste blood. Her eyes were wide, fixated on the slow, shuffling shadow of a form on the other side of the door.

He’s bluffing.

She prayed she was right. He’d swore up and down he’d never hurt her, hadn’t he?

He has to be bluffing.

But... people lied. They lied all the time. Why would he lie? Just to string her along? Just to make her think that she was actually something more than a pathetic little morsel, some stupid snack that needed to be dealt with— and to think that she’d actually believed him when he’d said that he loved her.

It had all been a lie. It had to have been a lie. A lie that was finally breaking apart at the seams in a tangled, jumbled mess of true intentions. Sam fought against the urge to whimper when his footsteps drew closer. He was practically on top of her, close enough that her sensitive ears could pick up the soft noise of his breathing.

“Make it easy for me, babe... just come on out.” He prompted in a voice that was painfully nonchalant— did he even care?

Tears pricked at her eyes. The soft shuffling of other objects in the kitchen made Sam painfully aware of the reality she’d been trying so desperately to push away. He was on the hunt. Trembling harder by the second, she took a shaky step away from the cupboard door, moving closer and closer toward the pots and pans stacked haphazardly behind her. Her heartbeat was growing louder by the second, thudding in her ears with a volume that drowned out all else—

“Sam... don’t be difficult.”

It stopped when the door creaked.

No. No, he had— he had just bumped it, right? It had to have been a coincidence. Her whole body was shaking like a leaf, breathing growing harsher, throat closing into a knot.

Calm down. He didn’t see. He doesn’t know where I am, he can’t—

It began to swing open.

Sam’s fingernails dug into her palms.

No.

Please no.

Inwardly pleading didn’t change anything. Her stomach turned, breathing getting faster and faster until it stopped entirely, turning to an awful, choked wheeze when a pair of eyes settled on her. His eyes. Brilliantly blue as they’d always been, but wrong in a way that made her feel sick to her stomach.

When she got her breath back, the word she used it to speak fell on deaf ears. “A-Adam,” she managed to croak.

It didn’t look like Adam, but who else could it be? She was in his house— huddled in a trembling mess near the back of one of his cupboards— and there was no mistaking his face.

He grinned. It was toothy— showing off teeth that seemed inhumanly sharp. “Hey, Sam,” he greeted in a low, rumbling purr of a voice. It swam in and out of her ears, drowning out everything else. One of his hands shifted, coming to rest inches from her little shape.

Sam’s back connected with the cold metal of one of the pans. “Adam, stop.”

His grin didn’t even falter. “Oh... don’t be so boring...”

His hand was getting closer. Sam’s heart felt like it was going to pop into a bloody mess as she watched his fingers steadily advance in her direction. When he made contact with her skin, she forced herself to meet his eyes. They saw right through her. Try as she might to pull away, all she managed to do was give another choked noise.

The look on his face was cold. Calculating. Nothing like the giant she’d met at a party years ago, no, not a shred of kindness shone back at her from those blue eyes she’d loved so fondly— they were the eyes of a predator.

A hungry predator. A predator that was currently looming over her with narrowed eyes and a smug, cocky looking smirk decorating his face. Like he’d already won.

She could barely muster the courage to say his name. It was usually something she said with fondness, but here? There was nothing but terror in her voice. “Adam, I said stop,” she let out in a hoarse whimper, “you-- you--”

“I what?” He interrupted, closing the distance between them in a way that made Sam more than aware of how utterly tiny she was. Try as she might to scoot away, she found herself hopelessly trapped, forced to do nothing but watch as his fingers curled tightly around her legs. “Am I scaring you?”

Those features she had come to know so fondly pulled back in a mocking leer.

When she tried to speak, it came out in nothing more than a choked-off whine. The pressure on her legs grew tighter, his fingernails digging into her skin.

She wanted to fight. Wanted to kick and claw-- do anything other than watch in silent, useless terror-- but she was completely frozen. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, tears building in her eyes as Adam’s expression turned mocking.

“Nothing? Really? For someone who’s so smart...”

Sam gave a sharp cry as, with a soft snicker, he dragged her forward. All the words she wanted to say-- pleas, apologies, questions-- they were catching in her throat, sticking there and stopping her from breathing properly. “Adam, please, st-stop, I don’t-- I don’t underst-stand, I didn’t--” Her voice broke into a wheeze when the pressure of his fingers changed to grip her ankles, and without so much as a smidge of effort on his part-- she was upside down, dangling above the floor that was falling away from her faster than she could adjust to.

No. No, she couldn’t-- he wouldn’t--

Struggling in vain, the fight coming back into her as her blood rushed to her head, Sam kicked at his fingers as well as she could manage, swinging her little body desperately. “Adam, that’s ENOUGH! I-- what-- what d-did I do wrong--”

For a fleeting moment, confusion flickered across Adam’s face. She could see it from where she hung in the air above him. Hope rose in her chest.

“Oh, Sam... you didn’t do a thing wrong.” Came his voice, normal and familiar enough to make Sam’s heart lift. It was a joke. A fucked-up prank-- so what if Adam wasn’t the type to do that? She’d be able to forgive him, so long as he didn’t--

“You really think that if you did... what, if you did something different, this would’ve changed? That this wouldn’t have happened?”

When he laughed, it buzzed through her chest. The blood was draining from her features. “I d-don’t understand...” she whimpered, her voice completely and utterly despaired. She didn’t bother hiding her terror, the tears streaking down her cheeks impossible to ignore, her trembling so harsh that it felt like she was vibrating

Adam only grinned. It was sickening, showing off far too many teeth. “Huh. I thought you understood predators... guess not. Don’t you get it?”

As Sam struggled, feeling her little body being lowered closer and closer to his closed mouth, she swung her arms around in hopes of at least injuring him. Her hands were met with the soft surface of his lips, and when she tried to dig her fingers in, tried to cause pain-- his jaws opened. Hot breath washed over her.

“Kelly did.”

The words shot through her, but before she could process--

The grip on her disappeared, and with a sharp cry of terror, she plummeted into his maw. Her legs were met with the pressure of teeth digging into her skin, upper body surrounded by the hot, wet heat, along with a stifling, intruding darkness. He was drooling, the slick substance puddling around her, causing her to lose her balance every time she shoved at the muscle that was curling eagerly around her upper half. Tasting her.

I need to fight.

Kelly did.

I’m going to get eaten.

Kelly did.

I might die.

Kelly did.

The words rang in her head like a funeral knell, echoing over and over to a point where they drowned out the noises around her as her squirming, wriggling legs were slurped up along with the rest of her. Her tears were obscuring her vision entirely. Her limbs were burning from the effort that fighting had taken, but she still tried, still clawed with everything she had left--

Just like Kelly did.

Had he--

Was he the reason--

A wail caught in Sam’s throat as, with a shift of gravity and a low, heavy gulp, she was forced downward, into the tight tunnel of Adam’s throat. She couldn’t fight-- not with her limbs pinned like they were.

She started to sob. She hated herself for it, hated herself for the contented noise that rang up from his throat around her, vibrating her to the core of her being, hated herself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’d won. That was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? That was why he’d strung her along for so long, letting her think he cared, that he was different-- just to rip away everything she thought she knew.

Just to rip away the only person she cared about.

And now, Sam was going to join her.

When the confines of his throat finally opened up, letting her spill into the empty chamber of his stomach, Sam... didn’t move a muscle. She dared not. She couldn’t. After all-- she couldn’t change anything, couldn’t change the fact that she was nothing but a light snack for the person she’d thought she could trust.

She curled her knees up against her chest. Her eyes were wide, no longer bordering on, but fully hyperventilating, she clapped her hands tight over her ears, not wanting to hear the pleased groans echoing around her. It would be over soon. Panic growing, world spinning and head fuzzy, Sam felt another choked, terrified sob tear from her throat at the feeling of the stomach around her starting to churn. She had minutes. Less. And in a matter of seconds, she knew she’d...

Like that, she passed out, complete blackness falling over her vision, fizzling across the back of her mind until there was nothing left. Nothing but two words.

Kelly did.

---

Sam was twitching. At first, he hadn’t paid it much mind. After all, he wasn’t exactly a sound sleeper most of the time, so... it made sense that Sam would stir a little in the night. No big deal. She had before-- hell, sometimes, she’d even talk in her sleep, her muffled words completely unintelligible from the outside.

He could hear her doing it now. As per usual, it was too muffled to make out properly. Sighing softly, adjusting his position in an attempt to settle back down for the night, Adam was interrupted by a sudden, pained sounding cry from his middle. A wail.

That caught his attention.

Paralyzed with fear for a moment, Adam’s somewhat groggy gaze flicked down to his middle as though he’d be able to see what was wrong. What was wrong? Swallowing, hand shifting where it lay to better feel Sam’s little form— is she shaking?— he kept his mouth shut. Maybe she’d just... drift back off to sleep. If it kept up, he’d wake her, but he didn’t really want to—

The next noise that sounded was one that made his heart plummet.

A shrill, terrified scream.

Sam.

The color drained from his face. He was barely aware of the fact that he was moving to cough her up, not processing it as a voluntary action-- he had no choice. Instinct spoke for him, forcing the tiny back up the tunnel of his throat without a speck of hesitation. Was she hurt? That scream was still ringing in his ears despite having faded, still ricocheting through his head like gunfire as he gave another sharp heave.

She was trembling, shaking like a leaf against his tongue in a way that made him feel physically sick, and more than that-- she was fighting. Fighting against him.

That realization only served to make his whole body feel numb. Wasting no time, he dipped his head and opened up his maw, allowing her body to spill into his hand, though once it did--

“S-Sam?”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

Her body, damp with spit, scrambled on the surface of his palm, trying to get away from his face-- away from him entirely, her wide eyes locked on his own like those of a deer in the headlights. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, though what struck Adam upside the head was what she was afraid of.

Of him.

“Hey, e-easy--” He tried to reassure, though when he opened his mouth to speak, Sam’s eyes darted down to his teeth, focusing there with a glossy sort of look in them. “--you-- you’re alright,” he continued, “it... what, bad dream?”

She didn’t look hurt, which was good. No signs of burned skin, no melting, no redness... and at his question, her facial features softened a tad. “A bad...”

It took exactly three seconds for her to burst into tears.

Adam, moving slowly, adjusted his position on the couch, concern mixed with guilt washing over him. “Hey-- hey, shh-- c’mere, it... it’s over, it’s not... I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

He didn’t know why those words were the ones that made Sam all but fling herself at his cheek, but judging by her sorry shape and how she was trembling... judging by the fact that she couldn’t meet his eyes... something told Adam that he didn’t want to know. Instead, he cupped his hands gently around her back and tried his best to be a comforting presence.

“You’re okay... that’s it, h-hey, you... it’s alright. Nothing’s gonna happen to you, it... it wasn’t real, okay? None of it.”

He had no way of knowing how comforting it was, but he tried his best to find his words. “I’m not going anywhere. You... you’re safe here, okay?”

Judging by the fact that Sam held him tighter, he had a feeling that it had worked. A sigh of relief pulled from his throat.

“You’re okay.” He breathed, and although it was meant to be a comfort to Sam... it helped soothe his nerves as well. She was okay. He was okay.

The two of them were together, and that’s how they’d face it. When Sam was ready.

Not a minute before.

#soft vore #g/t vore #safe vore #fearplay #extreme cuddling #the unauthorized autobiography of samantha brown #samantha brown #the mad ones #the mad ones adam #poor babies need a fuckton of therapy #but like... this is a common enough occurence...#angst with a happy ending #sorta #ish?

62 notes · View notes

rosegoldannie · 4 years

Text

Tell Me no Lies Chapter 18

Sorry it’s been a while, I’ve been super sick and had schoolwork to catch up on, and my school has been cancelled until the beginning of May because of Covid19.

On the bright side, this means more time for writing, so please send in prompts and I’ll write them! And thanks to @hizqueen4life for kindly reminding me that y’all are suffering!

There will be one more chapter of Tell Me no Lies, and possibly an epilogue if you all are interested. I’ve been considering doing half-chapters from Rowan’s perspective, and want to know if that is something you all are interested in.

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Blood roared in his ears as he made his way through the crowds towards the bar, his mind still reeling from the events of the last hour, and his lips still tingling from her kiss.

Aelin was… She was everything. When they had finished, and she had stroked his cheek, Rowan had nearly died. His heart was so full it was painful. And her laugh… Gods, he found himself grinning, as he braced his arms against the polished wooden counter.

Tonight had given him everything.

The last gods only knew how many weeks had been agony. While he couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly, it had started, only that she had been his world for a long while. It had taken her meeting with Chaol for him to realize it, but still.

Her smile… gods, when he saw it his heart was full.

He’d nearly told her a few minutes prior, when he’d revealed how much he loved her laugh. That hadn’t been what he had initially wanted to tell her, but seeing her smile, how her eyes had lit up.

Rowan had wanted to tell her the truth.

That he loved her.

That he had for weeks. Months, even. Since… Hell, since the day they’d met and he’d mistaken her for Aedion’s fiance and she had utterly shaken him to the core.

Even now, he chuckled at the memory, a soft smile spreading across his still-tingling lips, and he could feel her still wrapped around him. He could still feel her cool, smooth hair whispering through his fingertips, how she had sighed against him.

He would tell her, he decided.

Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but he would. And if she rejected him, he would live with it. He would find a way. But Rowan knew that if he let things carry on much longer without confessing, he would never be able to forgive himself.

As he waited in line, his mind utterly filled by the blond beauty he loved, counting down the minutes until he could return to her, who was waiting only a short ways away, he began rifling through the possibilities they had, of a possible life with her. Possible children.

And that was why he didn’t notice the dark haired woman watching him with predatory eyes.

He at last reached the front of the line, and ordered two drinks, then returned to his thoughts.

“Well hello,” A sickly sweet voice purred.

Rowan didn’t realize she was speaking to him, until she placed her hand on his forearm. He damn near jumped at the shock of it, sending her a suspiciously angry glance.

She let out a hearty chuckle, stepping closer to him.

He matched her step, and backed up, his glance turning to a glare.

“My name is Remelle.” She purred, that hand stroking up his arm.

He jerked away from her. “I’m not interested.” He said, firmly. Slightly cold.

Remelle giggled, which sent a chill down his spine, and Rowan found himself glancing over his shoulder to see the bartender still working on their drinks. He had half a mind to simply leave and return to Aelin, but decided against it upon thinking of how disappointed she would be.

She took a step closer to him, now only an inch or so separating them.

He clenched his teeth, and pressed himself as far back into the counter - and as far away from her - as he could.

“Are you sure? I won’t tell.” She murmured, leaning into him, and licking up the column of his neck. He instantly jerked away, and wiped at his neck.

Disgust roiled deep in his gut, and he fought the urge to heave. With a stern glare, he moved away from her and went to an area a good twenty feet away, shaking his head as fury roiled in his gut. He kept half an eye on the bartender, who was now finishing up their drinks, and the other eye on Remelle, who was still watching him, and licking her lips, those predatory eyes narrowing.

Rowan looked away, shuddering.

“What, am I not good enough for you?” A low voice huffed in his ear, strong perfume washing over him. He nearly gagged.

Stepping down from the stool on which he was seated, he turned to lean against the counter, and glared at her. “Look, I’m not interested. I have a girlfriend who I love, so go find someone else to warm your bed.”

A feline smile wormed its way across her thin lips. “I won’t tell.”

“I don’t care.” He snapped, glancing again at the bartender. “I’m not interested, so leave me alone.”

Remelle took several steps forward, pressing herself against him.

Rowan angled himself away from her, and again fought the urge to heave and gag. “I’ll be the best night of your life, baby.”

He turned his head to glare down at her. “I do not care. Leave me alone. I am not interested.”

Scoffing, she shook her head, and pressed farther into him.

He tried to move to the side, but she braced her hands on either side of him, and refused to allow him to move. Again, he glared down at her. “Let me go.”

She grinned. “No.”

Anger flared in him, as the music turned booming. “Let me go. I am not interested, and I have a girlfriend. Go find someone else.”

Something flickered in her eyes, sending a spark of fear through him. It was a look he often saw in the eyes of the less respectable men of society, and it had him clenching his jaw and leaning as far away from her as he could.

Suddenly, she was surging forward and slamming her lips against his, wrapping her arms around his neck and forcing her tongue into his mouth.

Disgust roiled through him as he shoved at her, attempting to push her away. He grunted as he finally freed himself from her. Without looking back, or checking on their drinks, he threw a twenty dollar bill over the counter, and stormed away, heading towards the bathrooms.

Once there, he emptied his stomach of its contents, and washed his sweaty face.

Bracing his hands against the rusting sink, he looked up into the mirror and found hot tears streaming down his face, and dark red marks now blossoming across his neck and disappearing down the collar of his shirt.

Swiping at his tears, he reassured himself that he was alright, then set about washing his face, scrubbing viciously at where that vile woman had licked him.

After half an hour of rotating from the sink to the toilet, then back to the sink, he washed his face for the last time, and rushed back to their group’s table, pissed to discover fresh tears streaming down his blotchy face.

He had planned to beg Aelin for them to go home, but stopped when he realized that she wasn’t there.

He again swiped at his tears that simply refused to stop, as he approached. Aelin was gone. As was Lysandra, Elide, and Aedion. Lorcan was the only person there, and was typing furiously on his phone, eyebrows drawn together.

“Hey,” He rasped, sniffing.

Lorcan immediately glanced up, his eyes hard. They softened upon seeing his current condition, but only slightly. “You look like shit.” He stated.

He snorted, sliding into the booth. “Thanks.” He glanced around again, eyes scanning for the blonde bombshell he wanted to see so badly. “Where is everyone?” He murmured.

His friend huffed, an almost smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You mean Aelin?” That smirk disappeared in less than a second, and his expression shuttered, turning hard. “She left. A while ago.”

Rowan felt as if his heart had dropped into his gut, coldness spreading through him. His voice was painfully soft when he at last managed to speak. “She left?”

His friend turned, glaring at him with an intensity that he had never seen. Especially in regards to Aelin, of all people.

That cold feeling only increased, now being joined by something frightfully close to fear.

“Lorcan, what do you mean she left?”

He snapped. “She left because of whatever the hell you did, asshole. She was heartbroken. Lysandra drove her home.” He paused, shaking his head. “Honestly, fuck you. I don’t know what you did, but I do know that she didn’t deserve it.”

With that, Lorcan slid out of the booth and disappeared into the crowds, leaving Rowan completely and utterly alone with his slowly breaking heart.

It took over an hour for the panic to subside enough for him to be able to stumble out to his car, and drive home in a numb fog. The entire time, he cried silently, swiping at his eyes. Panic setting his blood roaring in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the city.

When he burst into their unnaturally silent apartment, the first place he went was to her room.

He knocked, but was met with stony silence.

After several long moments, he cracked the door open, and when he wasn’t met with a barrage of screaming, pillows, and insults, he stuck his head into the dark room. What he saw nearly broke his heart.

Aelin was sprawled across her unmade bed, still wearing her jacket and shoes, fast asleep, with great streaks and lines of mascara smeared across her face.

His heart gave a painful squeeze at the sight, but he quietly made his way over to her vanity and retrieved several makeup wipes, then returned to her, settling down next to her on the bed.

Turning her head gently, he began to wipe away her makeup, taking extra care to clean off the eyeliner and mascara smeared by countless tears.

Again, his heart squeezed when she let out a small whimper, and clenched her fist. It felt as if she held his heart in her hand. Hell, she probably did and didn’t know it.

Once all of her makeup was wiped away, he began wiping her face with one of her facial cleansing wipes, then gently finished her entire skincare routine, from moisturizing to hydrating facial oils to spot treatments to night sprays. She had ‘forced’ him to learn it one Saturday night, weeks before, when he had come out into the living room to find her reclined on the couch with a glass of wine and a bright green face mask.

By the end of that night, he had been beside her, wine and all, with a facemask as they watched the news about the upcoming election. Though he would never admit it to her, he actually quite enjoyed skincare.

The memory brought a smile to his lips as he brushed through her curls, then gently removed her jacket, jewelry and boots.

He rummaged quietly through her dresser, and returned with what he knew to be her favorite t-shirt and sweatpants. He then carefully slipped the shirt over her dress, then the sweatpants, making sure she was completely covered before unzipping the dress and gently removing it, sliding the strappy sleeves down her shoulders and arms, allowing it to pool on the floor. As a final touch, he slipped her favorite fuzzy socks onto her feet before covering her with that purple butterfly quilt that she always wrapped herself in on chilly mornings, and slipped silently from the room.

He made sure to plug in her phone, and leave a glass of water and headache medication on the nightstand for her, along with what he knew to be her favorite chocolates.

A cold, numb feeling began in his chest as he settled into his own bed and drifted off to a fitful, restless sleep.

Aelin awoke to a cold, dark room. She instantly felt tears begin to fill her eyes again as memories of the previous night filled her line of sight.

Memories of her and Rowan.

Of how he held her, moaned her name as if it were both his salvation and destruction.

Fresh tears began tracking their way down her face, which she quickly swept away.

It was then that she noticed she wasn’t wearing her dress, and that her skin felt fresh, crisp in a way it never did when she slept in her makeup.

Slipping out of bed, she padded over to her vanity,where she discovered the remnants of several different wipes, and her folded dress.

She never folded her clothes, regardless of whether or not they were clean. She never bothered to change out of her clubbing clothes at night. And she never bothered to take off her makeup after a night at the club.

Which meant that he had done it.

He had come into her room sometime after she had fallen asleep, and… done this.

While part of her melted slightly at the kindness of what he had done, a much smaller, albeit louder, part of her screamed and roared its anger over his presumptuousness.

She huffed, then stuffed her feet into her deer slippers, and stomped out into the living room, knowing full well that he would be up by now.

He was, perched drearily in the armchair by the window, clad in sweats and an old Adarlan U hoodie. Something about the domesticity of that sent a bolt of pain to her broken, shattered and bleeding heart.

Dark circles sagged under his normally vibrant, green eyes. Though, at that moment they were muted and dull, along with everything else about him, she noted.

Rowan had barely even glanced up when she entered the room, keeping his eyes trained out the window, where snow was now flurrying down viciously. “We need to talk.”

Something akin to relief settled in her gut, right alongside the agony of seeing him in person for the first time since… the night before. The logical part of her rejoiced in the fact that she might get answers.

Aelin settled warily onto the couch, keeping her Ashryver eyes trained solely on him, ignoring the pain his silhouette caused her.

“Last night…” He began, wringing his hands and not looking fully at her.

Aelin felt her heart begin to crack again, and resolved to not cry or show any signs of being hurt during their conversation. “What about it.”

His head whipped up, and he sent her an almost annoyed glance. “What happened at the club.”

“What did happen at the club?” She pushed, her voice taking on a sickeningly sweet bite. “I don’t remember much of last night.” She crooned.

The look he gave her could have crippled lesser men. “You know what.” He sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair. “I heard that you left. Crying. And I was worried. I hope I didn’t push you into anything.”

“Ohhh, that.” She hummed, ignoring the tightness in her chest.

Rowan seemed to relax slightly, and his brows began to unfurl, as a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, that. I, um, I think we should talk about it.”

“Yes, of course. Go on.” She goaded.

He glanced up, seeming to search her face. “I wanted to get your take on things, and see if you had any regrets or anything we should talk about.”

A loud voice roared in her mind to not go through with her angry urge, but she quickly silenced it. “Oh. That.” She hissed through her teeth. “Yes. I do have regrets.”

Her roommate’s face began to slowly crumble.

“I regret that we danced together. I regret that we kissed. I regret that we fucked.” His face continued to fall, and he clenched his eyes shut, bowing his head. “I regret not being enough for you.” His eyes flew open at that, and he opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a look. “But most of all, I regret falling in love with you, Rowan Whitethorn.”

He looked both completely awed, his eyes blown wide, and utterly, utterly heartbroken, tears slowly tracking down his cheeks, his jaw agape.

“But most of all, I regret every moment I ever spent with you. I regret every drive, every piece of pizza, every cup of coffee. I regret that Fen left, and you moved in. I regret the moment we met.” With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

And that was both the truth, and a lie. She did regret every single thing she had said, and more. She regretted every single second that Rowan Whitethorn was in her life. But she also didn’t, and that damn voice of reason in her mind was screaming at her to go back and let him explain. It screamed and wailed and howled that she had to give him a chance to explain. That she owed him at least that much.

She didn’t turn around.

She simply continued to ignore that damn voice.

It was only as her hand connected with her doorknob that she heard a low, deep whimper, then a rattling sob.

The next week was complete hell.

Rowan spent the rest of that day crying, at times so hard that if she had less resolve, Aelin would have gone to check on him, or even apologized. But she didn’t.

By the second day, they began to ignore each other, not even speaking when they were in shared areas. He had burned his finger while making soup, but she had simply ignored him, and continued scrolling away on her phone.

By the third day, he became snappy, often making rude comments whenever their paths crossed. Even going so far as to snap at her for taking a long, hot shower, when he went to do the dishes.

By the fourth day, they were fighting, and Rowan had stopped cooking for two. Worse than they had when he first arrived. It started when he left out a cereal bowl, and she grew angry at him for it. By that evening, they had had eight full-on screaming matches, which all ended the same way: with them both calling the other a selfish, spoiled, arrogant prick, and stomping off to slam the door to their room.

By the fifth day, Rowan stopped doing the dishes.

And that was how, a week after Elide and Lorcan’s engagement party, they were screaming at each other over something that Aelin couldn’t remember.

“You are so self-centered!” She shouted, glaring ferociously at him. “You only care about yourself.”

“Oh, I’m self-centered? Says the one who spends hours in front of her mirror every day!”

“At least I don’t think I’m better than`everyone.”

“Bullshit! You think you’re so much better than everyone.”

“I do not.”

She let out a harsh laugh, shaking her head. “Yes you do. You only care about yourself.”

“I do not.” Any trace of warmth was gone from his voice.

“Yes you do.” She hissed, crossing her arms. “With you, it’s always me me me. You’re the only one who can ever do anything right. You’re the only one who can do no wrong.”

His gaze hardened. “If you really feel that way, then maybe I should move out.”

“Maybe you should!” She snapped, crossing her arms.

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Something inside her broke.

Three days later, she woke up early, and slipped from the apartment with a heavy weight in her pocket.

It had been nearly four months since Aelin had driven herself anywhere. Well, since she had driven her car.

She had an appointment at the hospital to check up on her, and to see how she was healing from the surgery. Rowan had promised to drive her, but given how difficult the last few days had been, Aelin simply wasn’t comfortable having Rowan drive her anywhere.

He had spent the last few days searching for apartments, and had found one late last night. He had informed her that once the holidays were over, he would be moving out.

She had told him that was fine, and that she already had another roommate lined up.

That was a complete lie.

Truthfully, she was completely heartbroken, and absolutely dreaded the idea of living alone. More than once, Rowan had walked in on her crying, but she had waved off his most likely fake concern.

Rowan was moving out.

Their stint as roommates was coming to an end.

They would never have to see each other again.

She would never have to see the man who broke her heart again.

And Aelin could feel part of her soul dying at the thought.

She leaned back in the driver's seat, slapping the wheel with a muttered cuss.

Turning the key again, the engine let out a pathetic rumble, but still didn’t start. Great. Just great.

After several texts had been sent, which all ended in her friends apologizing, but saying that they couldn’t drive her to her appointment, she braced her head against the steering wheel for several long seconds, before venturing back up to their apartment, and banging on his bedroom door.

` He finally answered after numerous rounds of knocking. “What.” He snapped, his dress shirt half buttoned.

It took several moments for her to find the words to speak, most definitely not because of the sight in front of her. “My car broke down. I have a doctor’s appointment.”

Something, some light that had flickered in his eyes for the last several seconds, guttered. “Lysandra? Aedion? Nesryn?” He half-snapped.

“They’re all busy. I already tried.”

That light went out.

“Alright, fine.”

He slipped back into his room, and returned just a minute later in his usual suit, and led the way down to his car.

A small part of her savored the walk down, knowing that this would most likely be the last time they would be in a car together. Again, the logical part of her brain roared for her to apologize, to give him another chance. But she shut that part down, and slipped into the passenger seat.

Ten minutes later, Rowan’s crisp dress shirt was covered in grease, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he worked and coaxed the engine, looking for whatever was keeping his car from starting.

After fifteen minutes of him clanking around with his engine, and a further ten minutes of them arguing, they finally agreed to share an uber to her appointment, and he would then take the uber to his work. And now they were waiting just inside the lobby for the uber.

Rowan had his arms crossed, and was looking out the window. He let out his third huff in the span of a minute, and her patience snapped.

“What.”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t play that game with me.”

“I’m not playing a game.”

“Well then what’s your problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Yeah sure.”

“I don’t.” He snapped, rolling his eyes.

She shook her head, gritting her teeth. “Fine.”

He let out another huff, and whirled on her. “I just don’t see why you wouldn’t check on your car to make sure it can still run.”

“What.” She deadpanned.

“If your car is left untouched for a long time, check in on it. Everyone knows that.” The ice was so strong, it was a miracle Aelin didn’t have frostbite. “Hell, drive it once a week. Every moron knows that!”

“Well I didn’t.”

“Clearly.” He muttered under his breath.

Anger sparked in her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

He whirled on her, those green eyes blazing with icy flame. “If you had simply used one brain cell - just one - you would have known that you needed to check on your car. But no, you’re Aelin. You know everything.” He hissed. “Whenever something goes wrong, it’s never your fault. Always someone else's. You think you can do no wrong.”

“I do not!” She roared, eyes narrowing and blood turning to steam. “If anything, you do.” Aelin huffed and crossed her arms, glaring out the windows. “You are so full of shit.” She muttered.

He whirled on her, his face contorted with fury. “I’m full of shit?! Really? You're the one who's been an absolute insane, crazy bitch for the last week for no reason!” Taking a step back, Rowan shook his head slightly, his voice becoming vulnerable and quiet. “And I don’t get it.”

It felt as if she had been punched in the gut, the air whooshing from her lungs. “Really.” She scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Yeah. And it hurts, Aelin. It fucking sucks.”

“Really?! You wanna talk to me about pain? You really want to go down that road?!”

He paused.

Looked away.

And swiped away a single tear.

“No.” He finally said, the words frighteningly final. “No, I don’t.”

And if her heart wasn’t already broken, that would have sent her over the edge. The pain in his eyes.... If she hadn’t seen him with that other woman, she would have run into his arms, kissed away his tears. Anything.

The next five minutes were awful. Rowan was clearly doing his best to conceal his tears…. And failing miserably. Every thirty seconds or so, he let out a small sniffle, and swiped at his increasingly puffy eyes. He was utterly pathetic. Though, she wasn’t much better, sending him furious glares every few seconds.

Honestly, who the hell did he think he was? To play innocent about this…. To act as if he wasn’t in the wrong. To act as if she were the one who had screwed up. It was infuriating, and brought her blood to a boil.

At last, Rowan glanced over at her, and swallowed thickly. “Look. If this is about what happened at the club….” He began, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“And it is.” She snapped, crossing her arms.

He paused for a moment, then continued. His words were slow, careful. “I’m sorry if what we did upset you. I thought that it was consensual, but if you view it differently, I apologize. If you feel that I took liberties, then I am so, incredibly sorry, Aelin. That was never my intention, and I promise it will never happen again.”

Aelin pursed her lips, tapping her foot. Completely and totally unsure of what to feel. “It's not about that.”

His face fell. “Then what, Aelin?” There was no bite, no hiss.

“You know what.” She hissed, glaring accusatorily.

“No, I don’t.” He begged, throwing his hands out.

She froze, scanning his every feature. Something in his gaze broke her, and she finally allowed her eyes to fill with tears. “It hurts.” She murmured, her lip wobbling. “It feels like I’m dying. Because for the first time since I was sixteen…. I felt loved. I felt like I was enough for someone.” She held his gaze for several long, painful seconds. “But I wasn’t. And it hurts. It hurts like hell.”

He jerked half a step towards her, his face crumbling. “Aelin, what-”

“I saw you, Rowan.”

He paused, then paled. His green eyes widened imensely. “Aelin, it’s not what you think. I promise.”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it. Really.”

Outside, a small, blue car pulled to a stop and honked thrice. They both raised a hand to acknowledge it, but remained where they were.

Her roommate sighed. “You don’t have the full story.”

Aelin pushed past him and strode out into the snow. “And I don’t want it.” She called over her shoulder.

She had one hand on the car door handle, when there was a muttered swear from behind her, then quick, crunching footsteps. “You’re wrong.” He stated. “I didn’t kiss her.”

Turning sadly, she found that there were only a few inches separating them. “Rowan…. It’s alright. I forgive you.” Her voice was filled with nothing but defeat.

“No.” He snapped, gripping her shoulder with heartbreaking gentleness. “Let me finish.” He took a deep breath, then began. “I did not kiss her. I would never. I was getting our drinks, and she came up to me, because she wanted a bedmate. I declined and walked away. She followed me, and cornered me, then forced herself on me. I pushed her away, and left to find you. And now you know the truth; I would never, ever kiss someone else, because there is only one person I ever want to kiss.” Hot tears began streaking down her frozen cheeks. Rowan began to gently wipe them away, and continued. “The only person I ever want to kiss, or to kiss me, is you. Because, Aelin, I love you. I have for a long time. What you saw…. I promise that isn’t what happened. I would never, ever do something like that, but I hope you can forgive me, because I am so, so incredibly sorry.”

Hot tears were now streaking furiously down her face, smearing the small amount of mascara she had bothered to apply. She sniffed loudly, then coughed, swiping aggressively at her cheeks. Rowan let out a huff of a laugh, and helped her in wiping them away, having taken her reaction as a good sign.

Once her voice was steady enough to speak, she cleared her throat. “You love me?” She sniffed, her gold-ringed eyes turning red and puffy.

He only smiled, dragging a finger sweetly down her cheek. “I love you. I have since the moment we met, and I will love you until this world is nothing but ashes and dust between the stars.”

She broke.

Her heart shattered and reforged itself with his words.

Whimpering, Aelin threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, she sobbed, heavy and wheezing and whimpering.

He only held her, pressing his nose sweetly into her neck and breathing her in. “I love you so much.” He whispered.

She could only sob harder, whimpering into him. Rowan simply pulled her closer and held her tighter, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as he stroked her hair.

When they at last parted, he continued to hold onto her shoulders, gazing into her eyes as if he were searching for something. Seeming to have found it, he surged forward and captured her lips in his. Aelin instantly opened for him with a high pitched groan, making to slide her tongue over his bottom lip. He moaned into the kiss, but still pulled back a few moments later.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he panted. “Oh gods.” He moaned, breathing heavily. “I never want to stop doing that.”

“Me neither.” She hummed, gazing into his eyes.

“Gods I love you.”

Eyes shining, she allowed herself to speak completely from the heart. “I love you too.”

His answering smile seemed to click with something in her heart, making her feel full for the first time.

Finally, he pulled away and opened the car door for her, muttering an apology to the driver. Aelin smiled at her love, and slid gingerly across the seat, smiling as he slid in after her. He yanked the door shut with a sharp thud, and grinned over at her, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on her cheekbone. Without turning to the driver, he murmured, “Adarlan General, please.”

From the corner of her line of sight, Aelin saw the driver nod, and they pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic.

Rowan gently took her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, as they gazed into each other's eyes. For the first time, Aelin found herself imagining a fututre, though she knew it was stupid. They had only just figured out their first serious problem, and admitted their feelings, but she still was picturing what it would be like to walk down the aisle, with him waiting at the end, tears glistening like diamonds in his emerald eyes.

What they didn’t see as they gazed deeply into the other’s eyes was that they were not headed in the direction of the hospital. No, they were speeding quickly in the opposite direction.

“You both are quite cute together,” The driver mused, speaking at last, his voice not quite deep, but scratchy nonetheless. She jolted, eyes flying to the front of the car.

Rowan murmured a quiet thanks, squeezing her hand tighter in his. But Aelin remained completely and utterly frozen, horror draining the blood from her face.

It was then that he turned in his seat to face them, revealing the gun at his hip. “Hello, Aelin.” Arobynn purred, those heinous eyes glinting. “It’s been a long time. We have a lot to catch up on.”

The doors locked with a resounding, echoing thud.

Hey! Please send in asks/prompts for me to write!

Comment, reblog or send me an ask if you want to be added to my general tags list, and check out my masterlist!

tag list: @sailorsassley @whiskeybusiness1776 @mad-scientist-pyromaniac @la7sorcellerie @dayanna-hatter @mis-lil-red @aelinfeyreisa @bamchickawowow @togswiftie @teresa-1121 @hizqueen4life @aelinchocolatelover @smexyminion @rowaelin-cressworth @illyrianbeauty @angelofmusic81 @rosesandglass @blackjacks-donuts @highlordrhysie @ame223 @sleeping-and-books @seducemewithyourbookcolection @high-lady-rhys @clumsybookworm18 @westofmoon @giorgia-the-trashpanda @burritowithfeels @happily-emma-after @awkward-avocado-s @fanfic-masterpost-site @tonypetersteve @msalazar3 @bookish-beans @terrasen-assassin

81 notes · View notes