#I don’t know if I like that or it’s somewhat temporary and will go back to being a quick blur and suddenly we’re in July - | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ajortga · 1 year ago

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for i can't help falling in love with you

pairing: vada cavell x fem reader

summary: not only are you new and in almost all of vada's classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. she starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, she's feeling something she knows that you shouldn't feel for a friend.

word count: 10.1k+

a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, this is fluffy and sweet, spent way too long on it but nonetheless, not regretful!

based off a request! this is for my vada <3ers

R transfers, V sees her almost all the time and eventually starts falling for R, V then embarrassingly asks R out for dinner! Just plainly puppy love, literally not much but I find these types of tropes sooo comforting, u can change some up a bit!!

It’s loud, bustling, chaotic every single day in the cafeteria.

As soon as the bell rings around the hallways and into the classrooms for lunch break, everyone slams into each other and sprints to the front of the lunch line. Vada even remembers while she walked with Nick some boy tripped in thin air and fell to the floor. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. That was until Nick and her found out he had to get stitches to repair his nose.

She laughed even harder, she couldn’t help it.

Vada slurped her slushy as she kicked her feet, talking with Nick who was drinking an iced latte.

“In a sense, slurpees are better than coffee. You don’t have to immediately shit diarrhea as soon as you plop on the toilet.”

He agrees, rolling his eyes, “Yeah but who would want slushies every day? They stain your mouth.”

“Well would you rather have a temporary colorful tongue that can be seen as cool, or stay in the bathroom while crying for help?”

It seems like as soon as she said it, Nick gagged as he held his stomach.

“You have 30 seconds before you're going to shit your pants,” she states, looking at him up and down. He wasn’t moving.

“Nick, go!” Vada yelled as she choked on a small giggle, watching Nick run to the bathroom holding his pants up to his sides.

As the baggy clothed brunette watched her best friend race to the bathroom, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. Vada slurped on her red slushy.

She was waiting for Nick until she noticed someone with a jacket wrapped around a tank top with her headphones on and book in one hand. You. She’s never seen you before and it was almost certain she’s seen everyone at least once before to know their name. She was bored, so she just watched.

You were folding a gum wrapper into a heart while you followed Mia into the girls restroom. Mia was always the one to give student tours when she could. You must’ve been new. But then you came back out without your jacket, holding it in the other hand as she saw Mia’s slushie spilled all over your jacket. She could almost hear how she was apologizing over and over again and you smiled it off, showing her how it was okay and you could clean up when you got home.

Then she took you back to her friend group, seeing the way your hair went side to side as you walked. Before she could watch you even more, Nick called out her name.

“I just took the biggest shit of my li- what are you looking at?”

She hears him but doesn’t turn his way,still looking a little, “Just someone who I think is new. Mia is giving her a tour.”

Nick said a small “ohhh..” in response, “Well what’s so exciting about that?”

“Mia accidentally spilled the slushie we bought this morning on her jacket by accident.”

“That’s so not cool, she must be cold having to take that off, was she mad?”

“No, she just brushed it off, smiled in a somewhat assuring way, and gave Mia the gum wrapper she folded before Mia took her back to her friend group.”

“Ooh. She’s patient then.”

“Yeah.”

After lunch passed, Vada realized you were in almost all her periods, well only the ones she attended. Sometimes she was late from Amelia hogging the bus. You kept to yourself, gave shy smiles as the teachers introduced you.

But as the next day rose she was back at school again.

Her favorite class was her film class, it was like a free period and she got to touch cameras and watch movies at least twice a week.

She sits in the corner of the room, she likes the way she can look out the window and see the sight of the sky while also seeing her own reflection.

FIlm class is oddly comforting, music always plays before the period begins. She places her phone on top of her desk.

So for the third time that day, she sees you walk through, with your backpack hung over one shoulder and the other with a book. She wants to feel surprised, almost strange how you end up in her class, but instead she almost feels a sense of gratefulness.

She doesn’t want to stare. But her eyes betray her, because in one second her eyes are on you. New students weren’t regular, well in her core classes, sure. But film? Almost never. She watches the way you wait by the teacher’s desk, waiting, unsure, not knowing if you should tap her shoulder or just wait until she notices you. Usually, Vada and Mia would sit together, but sometimes on bad days, they would have to move from talking and laughing too much. So they stuck to sitting diagonally and passing notes in the back of the classroom. Finally, the teacher notices you and the smile she gives you is almost too happy as she rubs your shoulder and stands up.

“Alright everyone,” she quiets down her music, “..usually during film I’d let the music keep rolling, but just for today I’d like you to greet our new student who just transferred here. Her name is Y/N.”

People around the class say awkward hi’s, random waves, some of the girls stare at you and awe, and even some of the well-known guys look at you, eyebrows raised and Vada can almost feel their want for you.

It makes her roll her eyes in disgust.

You do an awkward wave, wanting to shrink into the floor, a smile tugged at your lips.

“Okay sweetheart, there aren’t many options for seating since this class is more compacted than my others. But you can sit next to Vada.” Ms. Valentina points at Vada, “She’s the one in the very back, the open seat behind Mia.”

Your eyes almost light up when you notice Mia’s in your class, giving a small nod and trying to squish into the back.

Mia waves at you, shaking your shoulders to show her excitement as you sit down. Vada can almost smell the sweetness of your shampoo when you sit. It smells like ripe strawberries with the fulfilling scent of roasted marshmallows. She wants to sniff your hair, but you’re already pulling out your notebook from your backpack.

“Hey girl!” Mia whispers, turning around to face you as you smile.

“Hey slurpee stainer,” you joke, your voice is soft, airy, melodic. Not like anything Vada’s ever heard. Sure she’s heard many voices, but yours sounded like a lullaby to shush a baby to sleep if you wanted to.

Mia giggles, slapping your arm, “I said I’m sorryyyy. I’d say I’d take you shopping on the weekends! Don’t use that against me,” she scolds, and that makes you laugh, you cup your mouth to contain the giggles and Vada can hear an adorable squeak come out from it.

“I know, don’t be sorry, I was just joking, I’ll just wash it when I get home,” you whisper.

Before you two could talk again the teacher spoke, “Okay guys, it was a long day yesterday and I was planning on printing out some papers for assignments two days prior, but our school printer broke and the ink on mine is hanging on for dear life.” She pauses, everyone didn’t know where she was going with this, “So I’m just going to roll a movie, you guys can choose but I really don’t have much. You can talk, keep it low and hey, if you’re sitting around Y/N, lighten up the mood and get to know her.”

There were random okays and suggestions. As Ms. Valentina kept reading aloud the names, it was almost certain that Shrek was going to be chosen. For the third time this month. Until she spoke out a new suggestion, and everyone chose La La Land instead.

As she played the movie off the projector, Mia scooted to you.

“Okay, so no pressure, buttt my dad's gone today and I know you said you didn’t have homework. If you don’t want to, it's completely understandable, but me and Vada,” she gestures to the brunette sitting next to you, with her hands clasped together and looking at you with interest, “We sometimes go on pool runs or just drive to the nearest seven eleven. Honestly, it’s whatever. But if you wanna hang, I can give you a ride back home, let you drop off your stuff, and we can get to know each other more at mine. What are you thinking?”

Your lips tug into a thoughtful grin, telling Mia she doesn’t have to because she accidentally spilled her drink on you. But Vada kept staring at you. The blonde glanced at her, she saw her basically staring at your side profile, then back at you before giving her a light leg nudge that you didn’t notice.

“No no! Don’t feel pressured, just know that” Mia breathes and pats your forearm reassuringly, “..that I think we should hang out more, kay? You don’t know how many people don’t get mad when someone spills something on them. At least you’re someone who's patient as hell.” She makes you laugh as you think again.

“Okay, I’d love that,” you respond, simply.

“Then it’s set! Just meet us at that broccoli lookin’ tree, kay?”

As soon as the bell roars and everyone starts opening the gates like it’s the ones they’ll see in heaven, you squish into the crowd of people and look for this broccoli looking tree Mia was referring to. It didn’t take you long.

The only broccoli looking tree was the only tree that was stranded from all the poofy and leafy looking trees, and you could see her with the other brunette that you sat next to in class. You think her name was Vada. You didn’t want to ask, if you did and Vada wasn’t her name, you might as well crawl into a hole.

Mia immediately greets you.

Vada kicks at dirt beneath her, smiling a little foolishly, she realizes when she thinks how silly she might look to you. Her silly smile slightly fades to a more soft one to try and not seem weird. Instead you feel like she might feel uncomfortable with you, maybe she’s closed to people she meets at first. You hope that it doesn’t stay that way

“Get in!” The blonde smiles, and you swerve into the backseat as you drive off to the nearest seven eleven.

Mia’s car smells like flowers, you almost feel a little carsick from the leather and floral scent mixed together. You smell something else though, sweet plum and fluffy musk. You think it’s Vada, you can almost smell her shampoo from here.

It’s a little quiet, Mia talks to Vada, you try not to disrupt so you pretend you're looking at the window staring at literally nothing. It’s like the blue-eyed girl can see the way you try to keep to yourself and don’t want to be involved when you don’t think you should. So she bumps the music up.

Vada wants to talk to you. She can feel this urge for her heart to make her mouth open and speak. But for some reason she feels nervous. It’s weird, she’s usually open and starts off with teasing. Why can’t she speak now? Maybe it’s because.. Vada doesn’t even have a reason to know, she just doesn’t know.

“Dude, how is there traffic already to go to a fucking seven-eleven? We literally just left school.” Mia murmurs, tapping her shoes to the music.

Vada turns around, to look at the cars behind her, maybe to check how many are behind her.

That’s what Mia thought, but Vada wondered what you were doing. She's never met someone that tries to be considerate, to be polite and not wanting to interrupt anyone at any time

She notices the way you take the opportunity of the slightly opened window to take a breath of fresh air and let that small crack to let the small breeze blow through your hair. She sees the way you twirl your necklace up and down, side to side, then spin it around your fingers. She notices how you don’t notice her, so you don’t look at her, you look at the sky, the small baby cows, the cars.

It’s like a pencil is engraving into her mind to write all the details she sees. But she doesn’t know why.

Your figure slightly leans into the window, closing your eyes to rest. Maybe you’re thinking about Mia and what a good friend she is. Maybe you’re thinking about wanting to get to know her, Vada. Maybe you’re thinking of how long it’ll take for you to blend in into this place. Maybe you’re thinking how your place didn’t have many cows everywhere. Maybe you lived in the snowy mountains, or the coastal shorelines where you could take a dip in cool water every summer morning.

She sees your eyes flutter as the car slowly stops. Her body tenses and turns back to the front, you’re already at seven-eleven.

“It’s honestly kind of warm outside, I can turn on the AC on this thing if you don’t wanna go,” Mia says, finally turning around to look at you rubbing your eyes.

“No, no, it’s ‘kay, I’ll come, gotta exercise these legs anyway.” You say, opening her door and following suite with Mia and Vada. The small concreted rocks crunching beneath your shoes.

Mia obviously wants to check out the candy section, but Vada wants another slushy.

“Hold up, I think they have the candy they didn’t have when I checked the other time. Vadaaa you can just roam with Y/N. I’m not sure if you guys had seven-eleven where you lived.” She peeks into the candy section and with a spin of a corner she’s gone.

Vada stands there, awkwardly. She feels like if anything, you should be the one standing there like that. You stand there, looking at the slushies. Cola, blue raspberry, cherry, mountain dew, honestly you didn’t know if you should get one.

“Do you want to get one?” Vada asks, the first time you really heard her speak.

Your ears perk, turning to face her, “I’m not really a slushy person,” you speak softly, “I’m a little thirsty though.”

Vada smiles at that, “I like the cherry flavor and blue raspberry, but you gotta swirl it a certain way for it to taste the way I really like it, y’know?” She speaks, you nod, noticing her baggy basketball shorts and oversized shirt.

She walks closer, she can smell the same sweetness of your scent. Strawberries and roasted marshmallows. Your scent is oddly comforting, a scent where anyone would hug you longer and never let you go to smell it forever.

She stops before you can process anything, slightly backing away and focusing on the slushy dispenser.

“Okay. So like, I know you’re probably not supposed to do this but I just put my index and middle finger under the dispenser and,” she stops, looking at you, “make sure you wash your hands though,” she laughs. “But if you don’t know what flavor, just lick it off your fingers.”

Vada can almost sense you suppressing your laughter, “Seriously! I don’t give two shits about those security cameras. Honestly we go here so often we could get a free slushy and not pay.” She places her fingers under the dispenser of the cherry blast and presses the button, stopping it and licking it off her fingers.

It’s like she’s teaching you. She likes the way you’re interested and really looks like you want to learn.

“Do you want to try?” The slightly shorter brunette asks, her voice trying not to seem pressuring at all.

You think, looking at her fingers as she wipes it with a random brown napkin and throwing it away in the trash, “Okay,” your smooth voice responds before approaching beside her.

You use your index finger and place it under the blue raspberry one.

“This one?” Vada questions, when you nod she presses softly on the dispense button.

Your giggle from the icy cold makes her feel like the happiness she feels when she makes a small child laugh.

Vada turns to look at you and smiles, taking off her hand off the dispense button and watching you lick your fingers. (they were clean I promise)

“I like this one,” you say, making a small eye contact glance with her.

“Do you want it? I can pay.”

“It’s okay, I’ll see what’s at Mia’s home, I seriously don’t think I can finish the small one alone!”

Vada gets to know you more the more Mia invites you. She notices the way you open up, instead of trying to politely look out the window so you don’t disrupt conversations that you aren’t sure what their about, the car is lively,

Loud.

The music is always turned down now, giggles are filled, sometimes there are jokes about classes, teachers, people, the past.

Sometimes there are questions, family, hobbies.

Vada learns you have two siblings, a much younger and much older one, older brother, younger sister.

You like to read and write, play the guitar, bake, you love going on sunsetty and late night drives, it makes her interested in that part.

When you told her, a part of her wanted to tell you, ‘I like late night drives too.’ Maybe she’ll drive you around the freeway on a summer weekend in the future.

She likes the way you include her, how you always include people to make sure they never feel lonely.

She begins to notice the way your smiles aren’t shy anymore, they’re genuine. She can feel the way you’re opening up to her, from the way you look at her in a way she doesn’t remember. You look at her like she feels like she’s the only girl you’re looking at. She sees how your eyes soften in your irises the more you listen to her speak.

Vada never thought she’d experience jealousy for the first time in her life.

Sure she’s felt it before, when her fists clench when she had gotten second place when she was younger. It was like an ember. But this time, it was much stronger.

It was during some school event her high school came up with, couples day or what not.

You sat next to Vada and Nick during lunch, Mia with her friend group usually at this time. You were huddled up to Vada, munching on some chips with your hair up.

“Omph, I think jazz is better than rock honestly,” you say, muffled with chips in your mouth.

“Mmm, reasonable.”

After taking a long refreshing sip of water, you and Vada stand up.

“Nick, me and Y/N are gonna meet up Mia in the hallway, ‘kay? See you weirdo,” Vada walks along with you as you two laugh with each other over random gossip.

As you see Mia in the distance, wanting to wave her over, your friend Liam grabs you by the waist, his hands gentle, flowers in his hand.

You almost jump. You met Liam around the first week of school, he was sweet, gentle-man like. He offered to study with you in the library after school.

“Y/N, hey,” he says, his voice like syrup. Too sweet for your liking, “Sorry for pulling you away. I just wanted to tell you something.”

You saw how Vada stood on the side, awkwardly, not to mention how she was glaring at Liam.

You turn back to the curled hair blonde in front of you, “That’s ‘kay, what is it?”

Liam hands you the flowers he was holding, leaving you, almost confused, your face heating up.

“Look, I know I didn’t know you for long, but you’re sweet, you know? No one ever has to talk bad about you and to be in this school as a person like that is rare. I kind of, you know, like you. You’re pretty, really smart, and have a personality of gold. I know you don’t really like me, but I’d like to know what you think.”

You stare at the flowers held in your hands, your hands feel clammy.

“Liam.. This is really sweet. I appreciate.. You know, you thinking of me in that silver lighting. It honestly, in a sense, makes me feel proud. Thanks. I, I think I need some time, I never thought of you as the kind of person I’d be in a relationship with. But maybe with time if we get to know each other.. You know.. Gosh I’m sorry.” Your voice trails off, a tight smile on your lips, seeing the way Liam nodded immediately in understanding. You felt bad. Rejecting the sweetest boy you ever knew in this school, you just never saw him as something more than a brother.

“Don’t be sorry Y/N, that’s okay, I know what you mean, I just wanted to tell you before it got out of hand, but hey, now that I told you, as long as we stay friends that’s okay. That won’t change any friendship right?”

“I promise,” you assure, smiling a little.

Liam nods again, flowers in your hand as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and leans in to kiss your forehead.

He then walks away and you look down at the flowers in hand.

“Okay, that was cheesy as hell,” Vada says, her voice almost annoyed, maybe from waiting to see Liam’s monologue.

“I didn’t even know he felt that way about me.”

Vada rolls her eyes, “Of course you don’t,” you can’t help but feel almost hurt from her words. It’s like she was calling you oblivious, ignorant.

“Why would he even give you flowers? Gosh, he’s going wild for you, you barely even know him. He’s doing too much for someone like you right now,” she scoffed, slightly, not knowing why someone that you haven’t known for a while would give you flowers so early when you didn’t know him that well. But she worded it so wrongly.

Offended, almost wounded, insulted. Did Vada really think you were the kind of person no one would like? Did one of your closest friends find you in a sense, unlovable?

Vada saw the way your figure tensed, your eyes narrowing, before looking like they were about to cry.

Shit.

God she’s never seen you cry before. Vada felt her heart almost shatter, seeing the way your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. She didn’t mean it in a rude way, god now that she thinks about it, that’s one of the rudest things she could say.

She didn’t mean it, Vada doesn’t even know why she said it, maybe she just didn’t think Liam was right for you.

She felt jealousy, and she could feel it herself. Maybe she wanted a sweet guy too.

Or maybe she just wanted you.

“God Y/N, I didn’t mean-” Vada reaches her hand to your shoulder and immediately you shrug it off.

“You don’t think that I’m lovable enough to truly be loved, is that what it is Vada?” You say, your eyes sharp, “You don’t think I’m capable of deserve someone like Liam? How do you even see me?” You murmur, looking obviously, something Vada never wanted in the first place, in disbelief to even feel a tear slip down to your cheek.

“No, I swear I just-”

The bell had rang, and before she could try to apologize, and run after you, you squeezed into the crowd of people, heading for the class Vada knew was the only one you didn’t have with her.

Mia watched from a distance, seeing how tears poured from your eyes as you pushed through the crowds of people.

It’s tense, sort of, when Mia drives to her house.

You’re not talking to Vada, headphones are in, basically screaming that you’re closed off right now. Vada wants to talk to you, but she doesn’t know how to apologize for something she didn’t mean.

You look at the window outside and she feels like this might’ve gone back to stage one, it might take weeks for you to open up again.

But yet again, you’re Y/N, she knows you too well to know that you would never try to ignore her for that long.

Mia has to turn up the music again, something that hasn’t really happened for almost a few months, making small talk with Vada.

When you get to her house, Vada holds the door for you, you don’t look at her, just mumble a small, “thanks.”

“Shoot, sorry guys, if you guys are okay with staying here for half an hour or so, that’d be great. I completely forgot I had to stay after school and drop off one of my friends,” Mia immediately slaps her face, grabbing her bag for dance as she looks back, “Fridge is open if you guys want snacks, remote is in the cabinet under the couch, and all those joints ‘n stuff are in the back. K, love you, see ya,” Mia says, blowing a funny air kiss before shutting the door.

Now it’s awkward, out of all days of course Mia has a practice.

It’s quiet, your headphones are hung around your neck, kicking your feet against the carpet uncomfortably, you don’t know if you want to speak.

“Please, can you talk to me?” Vada pleads, making you almost flinch.

“I’m sorry for what I said today, I swear I didn’t mean it in a mean way towards you. I hope you know me well enough to know I would never mean it, okay? I was just getting a little upset over the fact guys would try asking girls out when they don’t know them that much, you know?.. Um.. Yeah. I guess I got a little overprotective. So I’m sorry. I hate when we don’t talk, it makes me feel like you hate me and stuff.”

You look at her, tugging your bottom lip between your lips, then you breathe, “I don’t hate you Vads. I promise. I just got a little taken aback and I honestly felt a little hurt from your words, especially since I knew you weren’t the kind of person to say those things in a mean manner. I forgive you. I really care about you, it was just weird today. I already felt bad rejecting a sweet boy I met and I wasn’t expecting to have my feelings hurt about it, I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I swear I didn’t, I just didn’t think Liam should’ve asked you so early, I didn’t even think you gave any signs.”

You giggle, making Vada’s shoulders relax from your icy facade beginning to melt, “You sound jealous.”

“Oh, nuh-uh.”

“Mm..” You mutter, not believing her, and making her groan.

Vada quickly changes the topic, realizing how red her face was.

“Do you wanna.. Um, go outside? Take a breather for a bit.”

“Okay.”

As you two close the sliding door, Vada sits down next to you, the silence is now comfortable. Her eyes begin to linger on the pack of cigars in front of her.

“I know you’re not the kind to smoke, but do you wanna share a blunt with me?” Vada asks, softly, it’s a question that you know if you say no, she’ll completely get it.

You hesitate, you never smoked before, let alone want to. But you look at Vada’s eyes and your head nods yes.

“Okay.”

You can see the excitement on her face, she makes a small squeal as she begins to roll the blunt, lighting it up with a lighter, you see her brush off some of the dust.

She places her lips on the cigarette, inhaling softly, before exhaling the smoke and a plethora of smoky fog wafts around you.

Her soft eyebrows raise, her eyes flicking to the blunt and your eyes, offering it to you.

Vada hears you breathe, she can almost feel your breath on her face as you look at the cigarette.

“A little help here?” You ask, voice tiny, shy.

“Okay baby,” Vada jokes, seeing the way your lips try not to smile, but fail miserably.

Vada scoots closer to you, so you two are huddled up and she takes your hand, “Okay, you always spin your led pencil in class, just hold the blunt similarly.” She feels the warmth of your hand and it makes her breath hitch. She puts the blunt between your index and middle finger, in which you make sure to hold with grip. Vada taps on your thumb, “Up,” her voice instructs, in which you support your thumb to hold it.

“Hey, now you got it!” she pats your shoulder, like a ‘yay’

She leans closer to you, your face is mere inches apart as she gently places the end of the cigarette in your mouth. Immediately the smoke fills your senses and you look at Vada, she coaxes you, “Inhale, not too much.” You inhale, wait for a moment, then exhale.

“There you go, you’re making me feel like a teacher Y/N,” she clicks her tongue.

She sees the way you exhale through your mouth, and the smoke fades in front of her face, you take another hit, this time you’re full on staring at Vada, with your doe eyes deep into hers.

The smoke wafts around her again, and when you pass it to her, you lean into her. Hearing how her breath hitches, your body pressed against her.

It goes like that for a while, puff, puff, pass. Where Vada offers the blunt to you, but instead of taking it with your finger, your lips part and your teeth nibble on the cigarette for a moment.

It’s like a game. She doesn’t know if it’s the humor you’ve grown, or the teasing. The teasing. But the way you make eye contact with her while your lips capture the blunt you two have shared makes her stomach stir.

While you smoke and you feel the ease of tranquility wash over your senses, Vada grabs some munchies, cookies, some donuts Mia bought the other day, and some potato chips.

She can’t see you. But she knows you’re staring at her, she can feel the way she senses she’s being watched.

You’re there, staring at her, looking down at her baggy clothing, then looking back up while she puts down the snacks. Your cheeks are flushed, you hear the way the music on your phone is beginning to fade, because you’re here, staring at her.

You think you may have taken too many hits, it’s a different kind of high. You just want to take the potato chips and grow wings. Fly away from this place and go to Italy.

Vada notices, you look spaced out, but you’re staring at her. Not as captivated as you were once before, so she nudges you and you immediately look back up at her. She’s high, she sees a glint in your mesmerizing eyes. A glint that makes her want to pull you closer.

“I feel high,” you state, you don’t notice how you sound till your speech is slurred.

“I think we’ve caught on to that,” Vada laughs, with a roll of her eyes as you snack on potato chips.

“I feel like you're prettyyy Vadss.. Pretty dope and badass,” you say, your fingers showing a peace sign and Vada busts out laughing.

“You have some nasty high that makes you use my kind of slang huh Y/N?”

You’re staring again, except the only difference now is she can tell what kind of stare it is. And this time it makes her feel weird, she can’t put her finger on it.

“Oh yeah, uh huh, yeppers,” you murmur, munching on potato chips and throwing it across the outside couch you sat on, “Can we have a cheese pizza instead with tickling my pickling pickle?..”

Flying. You feel like you’re flying, breathing out and in that smoke. Vada feels like she should be laughing but by the time she feels that she already is.

The cigarette in your hand gets twisted and her footsteps on it, cracking it.

“Think that’s enough for today Y/N, you’re not speaking from the heart.”

“Pickles?”

“No.”

“Dill.”

“No pickles!”

“Yes pickl-No!!!-okay..”

Finally, Vada drags you inside Mia’s house, carrying you to the couch and tossing you on it.

“WeeeEeeEEeEEE,” you’re acting silly. Vada has never seen this care-free, childish side in you.

“I think you’re gonna need to sleep this high off sleeping beauty.”

“I can’t sleeeeeep.”

“Well you need to sleep,” Vada forces, authority lacing her voice. You make a grumble.

“Okay fine,” the small cushion on the couch shifts from you moving around so much. Vada watches you in the corner of your eye, finding it a little cute the way you are right now.

She was going to buy some dill pickles while you closed your eyes, but you seemed like you couldn’t, making Vada sigh and approach you.

“Scooch,” her voice rings in your ears, rubbing your hair softly as you make a tired, grumpy sound and scoot a little, your body wrapped into a marshmallowy blanket.

She doesn’t think she would do this, but if she can make you shut up a little bit, and feel your warmth, maybe it’ll be okay. The shorter brunette feels the way you curl into her body and melt like putty. She doesn’t think much of it, what you two are sharing right now.

Vada feels fond, to let you feel safe in her arms, is something she will always cherish.

Her voice hushes you, pressing her lips to your forehead, while you murmur about pickles. The whispers begin to die down, like the ending of a symphony. She cuddles you, you nudge your nose into her chest, “Don’t go Vads..” your voice is barely heard, but she can hear it, “Stay.”

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky,” her pinky raises up and interlocks with yours.

“Okay.”

“Now sleep angel,” her voice is teasing, but part of it she feels like you’ve grown on her, this childish side that she finds sweet.

You don’t respond, of course you don’t, because as soon as she looks down at you asleep on her chest. And by the time she can even process, Vada is asleep with you.

Mia comes home seeing you two sleep together, taking 5 photos and even having the time to take 2 polaroid pictures of you two wrapped into each other.

“Those two are going to be together soon.”

It’s the fourth time you’ve watched Shrek in film class. 4 damn times for 2 months.

Vada is starting to tick, you giggle at it. But she finds Shrek so iconic, she can’t bring herself to hate it. Well for now.

“I fucking feel like I can actually memorize each line by now,” she mutters, it makes you and Mia laugh even harder.

“Why doesn’t Ms. Valentina choose the movies after that? It’s always just Shrek 1.”

Vada doesn’t even know by now.

The lights turn off, the only sunshine you can see is from the warmth of the sun that creeps into the blinds. The best part of having film in this period is that she always has it first on Fridays. Which means when the light switches turn off, it’s the queue where everyone pushes the desks and gets comfy, the desks stay on the side for the rest of the day.

After grunts and small clatter of water bottles falling down from people pushing the desks, everyone crawls to their spot in their own little friend group they have.

Vada already has the couch in the back of the classroom reserved, she doesn’t give no shits, if she’ll fight for it she will.

You find it a little funny, since you remember how people stopped trying to fight, she’s persistent.

She pats the seat next to her and you sit next to her. Mia sits next to you.

And for the rest of the period you three gossip, curl into each other, and chatter.

Once again, at the end of the school day, you, Vada, and Mia are laying together on the couch with several blankets and stuffed animals stacked on top of each other.

“Pass the popcorn please,” you nudge Mia, who’s holding the large popcorn box filled with buttery popcorn (that she kept when she ordered a jumbo sized popcorn box from the movies, that cost 10 damn dollars.) Mia passes it to Vada, which munches on a handful, then hands it to you. Of course with you ending up with some popcorn thrown into your hair.

You happy snack on the popcorn, munching and crunching. Vada and your hands dig into the bottom with the richer buttered popcorn. The brunette’s cheeks feel warm from feeling your hand. Maybe from the blanket. Maybe from the heat of the popcorn. Or maybe something else.

Mia regrets asking Vada for a movie recommendation. As soon as she sees Vada search up ‘Sh’ on the search bar, she groans, seeing how Vada clicked Shrek.

For the second, fucking, time, today.

As the movie begins to roll, the blonde whispers, “If I have children, I’m never gonna let them watch this. It’s been playing way more than enough and I am not risking having to play it every morning when I’m older.”

Vada snorts, “I’m going to tell your children that it’s a great movie, so great that they’ll play it morning and night.”

It goes like that for the next 30 minutes, you two are snug, with a fluffy weighted blanket draped over the three of you as the movie continues.

As the forty five minute mark surpasses, Vada is distracted in the movie. She’s seen it 4 times, yet she’s still watching it. She feels a faint pressure press against her shoulder, she brushes it off, she knows that it’s her brain signaling her to stop watching the movie.

She doesn’t.

But as the minutes pass, the pressure stays, if not stronger.

She feels curious, turning her head away from the projector to find you asleep peacefully on her shoulder. Vada’s eyes soften at the sight of your lips parted, gentle breaths blowing on her neck from your lips and the white of the blanket covering your chin. You’re asleep, and it brings her back to you two asleep on each other the other day. But this time it feels different. You two aren’t high.

You were curled up to her, with your legs tucked and faced to the edge of the couch. She’s seen you asleep before, when you were so tired one hung out that Mia lent you your room. Vada only peeked inside to see you asleep and still like a rock. You aren’t the kind to fall asleep easily, let alone snore. But Vada could hear a soft snore fall from your lips.

Vada can’t help it, but she feels a grin trying to form on her face, as you curl up to her, she tucks a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Now your hair is draped all over her shoulders, she sniffs it, nudging her nose to your hair. Your shampoo smells again like strawberries.

Except this time it smells more intoxicating.

It smells so lightly sweet. But it makes her feel dizzy, her nose to the top of your head, relying on your scent to comfort her.

You shift lightly, a soft murmur being made as your eyes slightly twitch, but fall asleep just as fast when she takes a strand of hair in her fingertips and curls it.

As you're asleep and Vada is focused on you, Mia mumbles against her, quiet enough to not wake you. The TV was already loud enough, plus you were all the way in the corner.

“You like Y/N,” she says, and it wasn’t an opinion, it was a rhetorical statement.

Vada slows down with her fingers curling in your hair, turning to face Mia.

She feels a stutter get caught into her throat, “Uh, w-wait what?”

“You like Y/N,” she says again, her blue eyes looking at Vada, searching for an answer. An answer she already knew, she just needed to hear it from her.

“N-no, what? Mia, what makes you think that?”

It sounds stupid to the blonde, a small laugh coming from her, she speaks quieter so you can’t hear her, although you’re knocked off asleep.

“Well, to start off, since she stepped into our film class for the first day, you couldn’t stop staring at her Vads. And when I invited her so we could get to know her better, I’ve never seen you so quiet with someone until you met her. You’re always so open to meeting new people. At first, I thought you were nervous,” Mia laughs, finding it almost unbelievable when she says it out loud, “and never thought the Vada Cavell would be nervous to meet new people. But you look at her like the missing puzzle piece you’ve taken years to find. You look at her like she’s given you the light to your universe.”

Vada wants to roll her eyes, tell Mia how insane she is, she wants to throw her hands in the air. But she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to wake you up, she just wants to press her lips to your forehead and tell you that everything is okay when you wake up.

But it all comes down at her at once. She can’t believe it herself. Well she knew she felt something. The the way she sees things now. Where she’d walk into a library filled with books and think, “Y/N would love it here.” Or when she’d smell the aroma in the air when Amelia and her mother would bake cookies together, and can’t help, but think about you.

Mia herself has a guitar, and when there are days when you can’t make it, Vada spends two hours as her best friend talks to her to practice. So maybe one day, when she sees you pull out her guitar, she’ll say, “I can play it too.”

And when your pretty eyes already reveal the yearn you feel to hear her play, she’ll play all the songs that she’s practiced while she eagers you to cuddle up to her. Then you’ll realize they are all your favorite songs. Because Vada spent every two hours when you’re not there to practice for you.

She hears Mia keep speaking, “You bring her up every time you can, okay? You’re reminded of her everywhere you go, and I’ve never seen you or her look at someone the way you do with each other. Remember that day you two first met? The whole car rode to seven eleven, you were staring at her staring at the window.”

“You’re falling for her day by day Vada,” Mia says, and the brunette can see the way Mia begins to smile, “You just don’t notice it until you realize how much she means to you. You used to refuse to take the extra guitar I had, but when you saw the way she played riffs, you took it and played songs that you knew one day you would want to play for her.”

Mia pauses, then speaks again, “You should’ve seen how shattered she was when you grew over protective of her and said some things that came out wrong. You didn’t see the way as soon as she left for 5th period she was going to cry. Come on, and you two fucking fell asleep with each other. It’s like I’m reading the slowest burn wattpad book in reality.”

The shorter girl is still stroking through your hair, as you’re asleep with soft snores coming out of your mouth every once in a while, still trying to process something she knew was true for a long time.

Vada doesn’t want to admit it, but she exhales a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “I don’t know. I just feel really fond of her I guess. She’s grown really special to me and I think she’s someone I never knew I needed in my life. She’s there to you know, listen. Or be open to whatever..” Vada plays with the string of her oversized shorts while letting you nuzzle to her neck. “I guess she’s more important to me than I thought.”

Mia silently squeals, nudging Vada’s shoulder, “You can’t not convince me she likes you too, okay? Now you better fucking confess or I’m going to do a backflip and crack your neck open.”

Vada hasn’t felt nervous since she met you, but today she was nervous nervous. She bought sky blue, pink, ivory, and sweet apple tulips.

It feels so cheesy, but she’s fucking here for it.

She prepares a basket with everything she knows about you, lego flowers, a cow stuffy with some random coquette bow attached to it, (that she may have not asked your older brother what animal you liked.) As soon as she shopped, the cute little cow with the laced bow wrapped around it was calling for her.

She fills the basket with kisses, tears off the most beautiful, raw pieces of poetry, she read and thought of you. She tears the extra copies of the songs she played on the guitar because of you, and adds it as scraps.

And of course, she adds small fairy lights, then attaches all the photos she has with you. She has never been more thankful for Mia always taking 2 polaroids whenever you take one together, so she can keep one and add it to her memory book.

She’s anxious, picking at her fingers, it’s like when she first experienced the shooting. Except this is a hundred times worse.

Mia drops her off Saturday morning, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “The worst she can say is no,” and by the way Vada clenches the basket she has for you, Mia quickly adds, “Which is a .00001% chance. Trust me, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

Vada rolls her eyes, clearly not helping easing her anxiety as she closes the door and approaches your door, knocking softly.

When it’s open, she’s greeted with the sight of a newly awoken you, looking sleepy, but she thinks it makes you even cuter.

You’re wearing the plaid pants she lent you, she remembers you couldn’t stop wearing it because it was so comfy. She let you have her extra fourth pair. She found it funny whenever she saw you waddling around in her oversized clothes.

“Mhh..” You keep rubbing your eyes, a yawn escaping out of you, “Vads it’s 8AM on a Saturday morning, what’s going o-” you finally open your eyes to have a nervous fidgety Vada with tulips, some Valentine's day throwup basket and a heart shaped balloon.

Vada takes a deep breath before pushing the tulips towards your way, “Okay, Y/N, I don’t know what to say. But I wanted to tell you for a while now. I notice the way I bring you up everyday, or how long my gaze lingers when you’re in the same room as me. Or how I find a way to bring our friendship up every second I can. I’ve grown the motivation to do the hobbies I’ve seen you once do. And.. I’m not the person to.. Get nervous when I meet people for the first time. But, you’ve been someone who I feel protective over, and you’re special to me in a way where you’re someone I didn’t ever think I needed in my life. But meeting you has really made you be the highlight of my day. I didn’t think it was possible to feel butterflies, let alone these fluttering sparks when you’re near. Or to realize the feelings I felt when Liam gave you flowers and wanted to ask you out was jealousy. It just feels right to have you with me, here. You’ve really distracted me from all the things I’ve found stressful, and no one has ever been able to do that. I didn’t even think it was possible. I-I don’t even know how, but it was like some invisible string tied us when I met you, but I’m so thankful you’re in my life. And it’s so weird to say this now..”

Vada pauses, catching her breath and trying not to make eye contact with you, but she can see your cheeks getting rosy. Your hands are full with her flowers. You certainly don’t look awkward like you once did with Liam. More like, overly shy now. You’re blushing. And this time your hands don’t feel clammy. This time, you’re so desperate to feel her hands on your waist and have your hands tucked around her to hug her.

Vada gulps and blurts out almost too quickly to comprehend, “But I like you. Will you go out for dinner with me this Friday night? I get if you don’t feel the same, and I just want you to know I don’t want our friendship to be ruined at all but-”

“Vada, I’d love to go out with you.” You interrupt, wanting her to shut up and kiss you. To do all the sweet things you thought of when you smoked with her, to fly with her and carry her home.

“R-really? You’re not just saying that?”

“No. I think.. I don’t know, I think we’ve grown really really close, in a way where I never had someone that I could rely on so much. I really didn’t think meeting you could, you know, make my day a hundred times better, and I always felt confused with my feelings, you know? In a way where I feel like friends shouldn’t feel the sweet way I think about you?”

“Yeah..” Vada murmurs, “Yeah,” she says, more understanding.

She turns to you, you look like spring. The season, with your hands filled with flowers, your hair perfectly ruffled and your hair curling in your ends. Vada speaks again, “Do you want to give us a try? You know, I just don’t ever want us to not be friends one day because we didn’t work out.”

“Please,” you whisper, and when you say that she immediately pulls you in for a hug.

This hug is just as comforting as all the other ones she’s given you in the past. But now, the thought of this hug being something more isn’t there anymore. Because it is something more. It makes you bury your nose into her chest.

Mia smiles in the distance, snapping a photo of you two hugging, “Those two love birds, I called it.”

Friday night

Here you are, in a black dress you remember you fell in love with when you went shopping. It was a simple dress where your shoulders were exposed, a laced neck and you put on some hoops.

The dress was not too short, but it stopped a little before your knees.

And of course, a string tying the prettiest bow on the back of your waist, you didn’t want to admit it, but you felt pretty when you looked at the mirror.

Your mother dropped you off outside of the restaurant Vada reserved.

She kisses your cheek goodbye, winking for good luck as you wave and watch her go. Now you kind of regret not bringing a jacket. You should’ve brought the leather one you were thinking about at the last minute, and decided not to.

Your headphones are plugged in, you’re 15 minutes early, and as the minutes tick, you feel colder from the sun beginning to set.

Cologne by beabadoobee is playing, you ruffle your curled hair, till you feel the music abruptly stop and your headphones being wrapped around your neck.

You can hear Vada’s voice, ruffling your hair, “Hi,” she says, not more awkward than you feel right now. You feel her gaze linger on your figure, and suddenly you feel hot, the cold you felt 5 minutes ago was completely gone.

She rubs your shoulders, and you can tell what you’re wearing just made her fall much more for you.

What she’s wearing is not Vada. Not her basketball shorts and oversized tees. This is Vada, in all black with the lightest makeup, you can still see the freckles you love. Her hair is half up half down, and you brush her bangs to the side.

“Vads,” you breathe, and the way you call her that makes her heart pound ferociously, “You look pretty.”

“I tried my best, how do I look, silly pretty girl?” Vada twirls her dress, making you laugh.

“Like something Vada would never wear, but I love it.”

“You’re the one to talk, all soft and shy girl wearing something that I would definitely not stop staring at this whole evening. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, come on Y/N,” she tugs your wrist slightly, noticing how your wrists are decorated with the bracelets you two made together in the past. It makes her smile while she points at it, “Good decoration choice.”

“Only for the best.”

As you two enter the restaurant, you reach for Vada’s hand, she can see the way you’re searching for her. Like a puppy whining for its mother. She drifts her hand towards you and interlaces it with yours.

The place is dimly lit. The only light is from the sunsetty view and the fairy lights that are hung.

It’s romantic.

And you feel all blushy, like some teenage girl in a friends to lovers book.

Vada feels the way you grasp onto her hands, your fingertips squeezing, she can already tell you’re nervous, she calms you down with a circle with her thumb on the back of your palm.

You two sit next to each other, looking at the menu.

It’s getting a little cold, and you shift, “Okay, not to ruin the mood, but I have no clue what in the hell I should get,” Vada laughs, the Y/N humor she knew was clearly showing.

“What about we share some alfredo and their bread? Their bread is so filling and to die for.”

You nod, to go with the flow, “Okay Vads, whatever you think is good must be yummy.”

You two order and spend the time talking, by the next 15 minutes of waiting, you’re cuddled into her, playing with her hair.

“Hey, you’re messing my hair up silly.”

“I like playing with it. It’s very smooth!”

Vada presses her lips to your temple, rubbing your cheeks to make your blush more apparent.

“Stop that.”

“Well I think it’s cute when your face is all pink.”

You make a quiet whine, Vada still smells your toasted marshmallow and strawberry scent. The scent she could never get tired of. The intoxicating sweetness.

A few moments later with cuddles and talks, your food arrives and you share the noodles, digging in. Vada drapes your hair back so it won't fall into the sauce. As you eat and munch, Vada twirls the noodles on her fork and brings it to your lips, looking into your eyes. You look back up at her, feeling tiny as you open your mouth and she feeds you. You feed her back, letting her rub the small speck of sauce on your cheek with her thumb.

“Stop being so shy,” Vada whispers, nudging your nose to hers.

“I’m just nervous, I’ve never done this before,” you whisper back.

“Well, it’s just me, nothings gonna change, I swear, maybe I’ll throw more pillows during pillow fights though,” she jokes, and that makes you nuzzle your nose more to hers.

You press your lips to her cheek and continue snacking on bread rolls and dessert.

“The stars are really bright today,” you say, your hand in Vadas as you two are staring at the scene above you, the sunset long gone and replaced with the light from the moon.

“Wellll, I think that just means that we’re amazing for each other, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“Nope, it’s a yes.”

“Yep.”

The heat you felt when you first saw Vada when your date began was gone, you were cold. No doubt did the girl not notice, seeing your slightly trembling figure. She drapes her leather jacket over you as you make a small noise of appreciation, sniffling your nose. The jacket immediately warms you up, you pull it to your shoulders more.

Her soft eyes look down at you, and she sees the way the stars reflect off your eyes, those eyes. She feels lucky to be able to be greeted by them every single day you’re around.

“Thank you for today,” you finally breathe, and Vada boops your nose.

“Well thank you for always being sweet and silly. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anyone else.”

You boop her nose back, sharing a slurpee that of course you got from seven eleven. It brings her deja vu. To remember how you first politely refused on buying a slurpee when you first met Vada. Then beginning to use the trick she taught you to poke your finger under the dispenser and lick your finger. Then buying your own small slurpee. Then to share it with one straw.

As you two reach her house, she twirls you on the porch and lifts you up, making you squeal and giggle. It’s quiet, comfortable silence as she looks down at your lips. And she knows you want her too. Your legs wrap around her, and you lean and press your lips to hers.

She feels sparks and a flock of butterflies stirring in your stomach when you’re around, but as she feels your soft, warmth of your lips on hers, she feels fireworks. Electricity shocking her whole body. She hears you make a soft moan of longing, something you wanted for so long. She wanted you for so long too. Her lips press against yours more, feeling your desperateness as she leans more pressure onto you. You taste like sweet strawberries, indulging on the way you make a noise of wanting more more more of her lips as her tongue runs over your bottom lip.

You both pull away, panting, cheeks flushed, your body feels like it’s flaming into oblivion, she grabs your waist tightly, then a small smile forms on both of your faces.

“I’m pretty sure you kiss during like.. Your fourth date.”

“Oh,” Vada says, faking to look sad before cracking up a grin, “Oh well, we’re too in love with each other and we broke that! Too bad, so sad.”

You giggle as she twirls you around and brings you into her room, kissing your neck along the way, she tosses you into the bed and you squeal, kicking your legs as she crawls next to you.

“Come here,” she whispers, you scoot closer to embrace and she wraps her arms around you, switching the fireplace on and playing some music in the background.

She spoons you, but you turn your front to be pressed to her chest, feeling her kisses on your neck and her fingers ghosting along your jawline.

“Pretty girl,” she coos, seeing the way you were a little tired, “Sleepy?”

“Yes.”

You bury your nose into her, her sweet, musky, coconut scent comforts you. The way your scent mixes and it just smells so… Your eyes are fluttering before you can come up with a thought. You stir in Vada’s arms, feeling her arms wrapped around your waist and your limbs tangled together.

“Don’t let go, stay,” you whisper, like you once did before in the past.

“I won’t, pinky promise, I’ll be here baby. Go to sleep, okay?”

You both begin to fall asleep, with polaroids hanging off you wrapped around vines around Vada’s bed. There was one with you two holding slushies and showing off your purple tongues, another one with you two in a group photo, one that Vada loved the most, where you two were cuddling.

miaa: you owee meee omg u guys r adorable, update me tmmrw vads

Your pinkies interlock and your cuddle up to her. She can see the way your eyes twitch from closing. She knows you’re asleep when she hears your breathing begin to even out. And she definitely knows she’s your comfort, because a soft snore slips out of you no longer than 5 minutes later.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n

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orionremastered · 1 year ago

Text

Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three (finale)

The ache in your chest had been there for a week now, and it was becoming your new best friend. Coincidentally, the first and only time you talked to your soulmate was also a week ago.

You hadn’t expected it at first, and you even asked Harper to check if you were going to have a heart attack in the back of the ambulance during a meal break.

As you figured, nothing was wrong.

So after a long night shift, a shower and dinner for breakfast, you were almost, and by almost I mean seconds away from falling asleep.

A knock at the door snaps your eyes open and with a grumble, you get out of bed and get yourself into more appropriate clothing than sleepwear.

“I’m going to kill whoever's at the door,” you grumble, glaring through the peephole before you opened the door.

This was Gotham, and you weren’t stupid.

It wasn’t the Ridddler or the Joker, but rather your soulmate. Standing in a black jacket with the hood over his head, waiting patiently in the middle of the hallway.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, you narrow your eyes at the tall and no doubt muscular figure.

“How the fuck do you know where I live?”

“Hello,” he greets, walking past you and into your apartment, gazing at it like he’s on a sightseeing tour. With a grumble, you close the door behind him and lock it again.

“What do you want?” The ache in your chest was gone but your heart craved even the slightest touch, begging you and pulling you towards him. Your other half.

“I want to talk,” Damian admits after a short pause, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door. “Something you apparently don’t want to do.”

“How are you feeling?”

“It’s been a week, habibi,” he points out, raising a dark eyebrow. “Don’t try and change the subject.”

“What does habibi mean?”

Your apartment goes silent before finally, Damian sighs. “I’m certain you’ll figure it out eventually. Now, we’re going to talk about this without you trying to change the subject-”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve made my stance on this very clear,” you state, lightly emphasizing each word in order for it to sink in. “I cannot have publicity if I want to be able to do my job.”

Being a paramedic was the biggest achievement of your life- a ‘fuck you’ to your parents, an amazing work partner, a fulfilling life- the pay didn’t matter much to you, and that’s what your parents hated.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to go to galas or anything similar.” His tone changes, “But you can’t just give up an entire relationship-”

“I don’t think you understand just how public of a figure you are,” you interrupt. “You could’ve been followed here by paparazzi- they follow you everywhere. I can’t be walking on eggshells whenever I want to go outside with you.”

“I wasn’t followed,” he says with a frown. “And… that is a valid point.” His jaw clenches, unclenches and finally he sighs his thoughts into the air. “What if we just try? This is all theory but in practice we might be able to pull it off.”

“That’s a lot of stress for someone that already has a high-stress job.”

Damian’s head snaps towards you, a grin slowly forming on his face. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He explained it all. You kept thinking that was it but no, he kept going. The gist is; he was an assassin, then Robin, now Batman.

It created more problems than solutions but you were somewhat willing to hear him out. It was almost midday now and you were exhausted.

“And your plan is what, exactly?”

“You don’t date me, you date Batman. He’s a ‘public’ figure but he’s a different kind of public than a Wayne.”

You didn’t think it was a bad idea, much to your surprise. It could work, and perhaps not just as a temporary fix.

Your heart was screaming at you by now, kicking and shouting for you to just give in.

“That sounds doable.”

A smile, genuine and bright and rare, breaks out onto Damian’s face. He wraps his strong arms around you, pulls you close and is finally able to kiss you lightly on the forehead before resting his head on yours.

You were soaring in warmth and joy and you were finally here, where you needed to be. You could make this work. You will make this work.

And for the first time as you stand in your soulmate’s arms, you want to make this work.

~~~

Masterlist

#damian wayne x reader #batfamily #batfam #x reader #batfamily x reader

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moodymisty · 1 year ago

Note

The words “blood hungry Sanguinius” in your announcement post activated all of my neurons at once. Anyway request time, lemme lay the scene. Sanguinius is in an established relationship, she’s a diplomat or his seneschal, somebody of great importance to him both personally and professionally. The planet they’re currently Crusading™ has put up enough of a fight to be troublesome but peace talks are finally happening, which our dear angel’s beloved is the head of. Except not everybody wants peace. Sanguinius has been waging war on this planet, not everybody is gonna be a fan but people also aren’t stupid enough to just pick a direct fight with the 10ft tall dude who could chuck a spear into space. So they aim smaller, where they know it’ll still hurt. An assassination attempt is made on his beloved. It fails, mind you, but it was too close for comfort. She was hurt and suddenly the great angel isn’t feeling so angelic. He wants cathartic visceral payback and his sons couldn’t agree more. Now that kind of adrenaline-fueled murder rampage will get anybody’s blood pumping so once he gets back he’s headed straight for their room. Obviously he’s relieved that she’s fine, patched up and everything at this point but she still smells like blood and sweat and he just desperately needs to know she’s okay. Needs to hear her voice crying out for him rather than in pain, feel her pulse against his lips. Needs to lick the blood off her. It’s precious after all, he’d hate for it to go to waste (and crucially of course he has to erase the traces of that attack, only he is allowed to draw blood from his beloved, nobody else gets to do that and live)

Do with these brain worms what you will, Misty. Go nuts ❤️

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Thank you for the fucking FOOD, friend. I hope you enjoy it, I tweaked a tiny bit just to make it flow better in my head because it was going to keep getting longer if I didn’t stop send help

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, semi-graphic depictions of violence in the beginning, Blood drinking/licking/vampirey stuff, fingering, If you squinted you could consider this dubious consent because making out after a near death experience probably isn’t the best trauma response but it’s 40k so whatever, Slightly Yandere Sanguinus also to be honest

Sanguinus lets his perfect veneer fade for a moment, as he drifts off into thought. Tactical planning and logistics fade into the background, but Sanguinus can still comprehend it all and join back in a moment without anyone noticing.

She’s asleep right now, oh how I wish I could join her.

After a tense few weeks of failed diplomacy and eventual war, you needed rest; While Sanguinus needs such a thing much more rarely, he still wishes to join you. This whole debacle has been little more than aggravating to him.

While he is used to waging war like this, he knows you took this failed diplomacy as a failure for yourself. You’re still new to this, he knows it’ll fade with time but he wishes he could at least comfort you for a little while.

Though, this whole crusade has been less than what you all expected. Fierce electrical storms have made teleporting or even using Thunderhawks or smaller landers from the Red Tear to planet-side dangerous, so they’ve set up temporary base on solid ground while the war effort continues.

He hates the feeling of it; The nature of it being less secure. He knows you’re surrounded by Astartes, but these walls are old and they don’t know the landscape, or if this old fortress has anywhere to hide. This isn't their home territory, the safety of the cold, metal walls of the Red Tear and it's sister ship-

The door suddenly barges open, and in rush two blood Angels who's armor screeches as they freeze to a halt. It manages to startle Sanguinius somewhat, as his wings shift close to his body.

“Lord Sanguinus! Someone is attacking Our Lady!”

The sentence brings him to high alert even before they finish speaking and he’s already pushing past them to make his way towards you. He barely even notices the title they used for you, one that has only been said a handful of times as they slowly became used to your presence beside him.

Sanguinus is out of his armor at the moment, a rare time for him to stretch his wings and back after being in it for nearly a week straight, and the lessened weight makes his strides even faster as he races to you. His wings are tight to his body to avoid hitting anything or catching drag, and he hears the sound of bolters and ceramite plates crashing into weaker armor. He had them guarding the room at all hours, and as such was able to get alerted to the assassins- he assumes by their dark regalia and deftness- instantly.

“I want at least one alive! I want to know how they got past our perimeter!”

The first intruder he catches sight of has their shoulder blown away by a bolter shell before they could comprehend Sanguinus’ orders, and the second gets grabbed by an Astartes and yells in pain at the audible crack of bone. The third Sanguinus notices behind him and he batters him with the end of his wing, and an Astartes manages to obtain him by grabbing his neck. No matter how skilled they were, they stand absolutely no match to his sons. Even their advantage of surprise offered them nothing in the end.

Sanguinius eventually snags the last one and hands the wretch to his sons, and the lot are carried away.

They might be alive now, but once Sanguinus gets what he wants from them, they’ll wish they weren’t. Especially after he looks towards you.

Your sitting on the floor leaned against the wall, arms tight to yourself. He can see your thin nightdress is stained with blood at the neckline, and your arms also have small bits of blood. Your cheek has a small gash that’s growing a bruise around it, like it’s from a punch or slap.

You have an Astartes combat knife in your hands, blood soaking the blade. He knows you put up a fight despite the odds. It was probably you that alerted his sons.

He can hear them communicating amongst themselves, making sure the room and perimeter are clear. The assassins are removed and will probably get prodded around in by a curious techpriest in the future. He knew that a forward base such as this was a dangerous idea, and this only further cements it. Despite the meteorological issues.

Though his thoughts are on less immediate things, now that he knows you’re safe. His clears his throat slightly but the motion does nothing to distract him.

Something Sanguinius had learned in his younger years was that all blood is different; In taste, smell. Some of it is superior to others in those ways.

As while the room is soaked in blood, he can only smell yours.

“All of you check everywhere for any others. Leave us alone unless I call.”

The Blood Angels present hesitate to move, and their lieutenant speaks why. His helmet rests in his hands.

“Should we not stay to keep you both-“ Sanguinus turns to him and his voice is firm and unwavering.

“Go.”

The captain almost seems surprised, before placing his helmet back on. His men dip their heads for a moment and leave, closing the door and leaving the two of you alone.

The Primarch comes closer, lowering to his knee in front of you.

“You’re not hurt?” His hands grasp your shoulders, and you shake your head.

“No. Not badly enough to complain about at least.” Sanguinus lets out an audible sigh of relief.

He moves to let you stand, offering a hand you take for a moment. You move away to look into a mirror and splash some water on your face, wiping the blood away from it. It does nothing to cut the scent overwhelming the air that only he can parse.

“I’ve sent them to figure out how those men got in, and if there’s more.” You look up at him, before bending down to pick up one of his fallen feathers. He lost a few in the battle, as he does all the time. The Red Tear also has many strewn about in the places he frequents. You hold it in your hand and brush along the quill shaft, smoothing it. It’s a habit you’ve developed.

“Shouldn’t you go with them?” Sanguinus furrows his brow, confused.

“I want to stay with you, so I know you’re safe. And that you feel safe.”

The way you look up at him is worried; What could you possibly be worried about right now besides yourself? You were the one who was almost killed, because he was ignorant enough to bring you here, selfish because of his desire to keep you at his side. He kneels close to you, and tries to hold his breath as his mouth waters.

“What is it, my love?”

You look at him and continue holding his feather, seeing the way his eyes leer at you. You’ve seen it before, and it’s obvious why.

“Sanguinus, you’re hungry.”

How well you already know him, even after such a short period of time.

He gently cups a hand to the side of your face, before leaning inward.

“I’m sorry my love, I can’t help it, you’re like my own personal wine.”

His lips brush across your own, and he can suddenly taste the tiny droplet of blood from where your lip had split. You eagerly return his kiss and the desperation has you gripping him like a lifeline, as if your mind is finally catching up with what’s happened. He eagerly holds you back, his massive hands cupping your waist and swallowing most of it.

Before you know it, he has you in his arms, and he gently drops you onto the bed. It creaks and groans under the weight of him, but you’re little more than a feather to it.

He can see the cut across your collarbone; They must’ve tried to put a knife to your throat, and cut along below it instead. Your heart beat rushes just underneath it.

“Let me help you forget all of this ever happened,”

He whispers, half lost on the smell of your blood. You still feel almost stunned, like everything is a dream, but you’d never refuse him with how safe you always feel in his arms.

Sanguinus’ hands drift up your nightdress until it’s off of you, the stained fabric getting tossed aside.

He leans down to drag his lips along the cut of your collarbone, tongue sweeping away any traces of blood. The droplets that ran down your sternum get wisked away as well, his tongue traveling between your breasts.

He would hate to see it be wasted. The ones who spilled it and attempted to do worse will spill their secrets, and suffer for what they’ve done.

He’ll keep his head turned if they end up bloodless as well. His sons can sate their appetites on them and he’ll mind little.

Meanwhile you writhe underneath him, a hand on your shoulder holding you down while the other presses down close to your hip. Your free hand grasps at him, nails digging into his skin. He hears you saying his name, whispering it like a prayer, but he can barely hear it over the sound of your heart in his ears.

He can stay under control, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t test his willpower.

He loves to call you his wine; Though in some ways it’s almost as if you’re a drug he can never allow himself to have too much of, lest he get lost in it.

His left hand drifts closer and brushes over your hip, his massive palm dwarfing your smaller body. His fingers push between your thighs with ease, and he slips his fingers into your folds and hears the way you whimper at the soft touch. It isn’t long before they press against your entrance and slowly he teases one inside, before slipping in another once he’s readied you enough for it.

He feels the heat of your body as he presses his hand against you, all the while his face never leaves your neck. It’s an awkward angle for him at his overwhelming height, but he makes it work. His teeth ever so gently scrape across the pulsing vein of your neck where old scars from him lie, and he feels the way you shiver.

His fingers curl inside of you as his lips press hard against your neck, tasting every last little bit of blood until your skin is clear apart from the thin sliver of red.

He leans away and presses his lips to yours again, catching your bottom lip between his own. The cut on your lip had just stopped bleeding but his rougher kiss aggregates it enough to make it bleed just a tiny bit more, and you moan into his mouth as he tastes it.

Your hand desperately grasps at his own pressing against your shoulder, trying to grip his fingers and keep you grounded. He loves the way you writhe underneath him, earlier events completely forgotten.

He pulls way from your lips with a soft pop and his hot breath returns to your neck.

He wants to bite it so badly. It’s tormenting him, eating at him. But then he feels when he finally reach your peak, tightening around him and crying out to him in pleasure and not pain. It’s like music to his ears, after hearing your heart race so much in fear barely hours ago. To hear you call his name not to save you but to have him make you feel like this.

He pulls his lips away from your neck as you catch your breath. Another time.

His wings droop slightly, though even folded they take up so much space, shadowing so much more than just your body. They drop even more, and it almost feels like he’s trying to surround you with them and his body.

He gently pulls his hand from your folds but you feel his finger brush against your inner thigh, and the corners of his mouth twitch as you shiver and tense.

“I will never allow your life to ever be threatened again,”

He says, a part inside of him fuming at the fact it happened to begin with. He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous, careless, though deeper down he knows he did everything he could. He’ll do more now. His sons are becoming used to you, accepting of you, they’ll do it with no complaints.

You look up at him with soft, shining skin; Lips swollen. He wishes he could stay for longer, and take advantage of his time without his armor.

“Just don’t worry yourself into dropping feathers,” You joke and smile, voice slightly hoarse. He can still hear your heartbeat racing in his ears, but it’s calming down as you lay underneath him.

Sanguinus laughs and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. He swallows down his only partly sated hunger for another time.

“I’ll try not to.”

#Sanguinus x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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moonhoures · 2 years ago

Text

11:06PM — c. soobin 💌

a/n: did i write this in 30 minutes on my lunch break immediately after soobin posted? yes. am i insane for doing so? probably. do i care? not one bit. this is just some fluffy bf soobin, enjoy!

“Should I pose like this?”

You watched your boyfriend move through the screen of your phone, standing facing you with his arm bent, hand at the back of his head. You snorted quietly, snapping a somewhat blurry picture before he put his arm back down with a pout.

“What?” he asked with a hint of playful annoyance.

“Nothing. You look cute,” you laughed at his childish demeanor, “Come on, just a couple more.”

This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you two. More often than not your dates were late at night, spent getting dinner and then taking a long walk back to your car. On your walks you both enjoyed having little photo shoots together, either of each other or different stuff you saw along your way. Tonight, you wanted to take pictures of him.

“I don’t want to look cute. I want to look handsome,” he said, lightly kicking a rock across the pavement with his shoe.

“You look handsome too. You can be both, you know,” you tried to reassure him, picking your phone back up. You encouraged him to pose again. After a couple minutes you had enough pictures to fill up an album in your camera roll. Soobin reached for your free hand, taking it in his as you put your phone back into your pocket. Then you set off again down the sidewalk together, fingers intertwined.

You loved nights like these. When the air was warm but there was still that night breeze making the few fallen flower petals and leaves shake and skid down the concrete. The moon shown most nights, hanging in the dark blue sky like a nightlight. Sometimes Soobin pointed it out, telling you what phase it was in. Crescents were his favorite, because it looked like a smile. Crescents slowly became your favorite too, because it was his favorite. And they made you think of him.

You sighed contently, unraveling your fingers from his so that you could pull his arm over your shoulder. He smiled warmly, taking the opportunity to kiss your head.

“It’s getting a bit chillier at night. We’ll have to bring jackets next time,” he said.

“Mhm, I think I’ll wear that white pullover you gave me last year,” you were picturing the perfect outfit in your mind, trying to remember where you put the matching shoes you were imagining. Had you left them at the bottom of your closet? Or under your bed?

“You mean my white pullover?” he corrected you with a smirk, “I didn’t give you that, you stole it from my room when you came over. And you have yet to give it back.”

“A small price to pay for a girlfriend, don’t you think?”

You both laughed as you crossed an intersection. When you stepped back on to the sidewalk, your car was parked only a few yards away. His was parked just in front of yours. Like always, he walked you to your car, stopping beside your driver’s side door.

He let out a heavy sigh, expressing his disappointment with having to part ways. He held both of your hands in his, a pout evident on his full lips, “I hate this part.”

“You say that every time, you know that?”

“And I mean it every time, too,” he grumbled, pulling you into a hug. His chin rested on your head as he squeezed you tenderly, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume before letting you go. His hands found a temporary home on your cheeks as he leaned in to place a kiss on the tip of your nose, “Text me when you get home?”

“I always do-,” you started to say, and before you could finish speaking, he interjected.

“Not last time,” he said matter-of-factly, “And I didn’t sleep well that night, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, “I fell asleep as soon as I got home. And I said I was sorry!”

“Well now you have to make it up to me by giving me an extra kiss.”

You nodded in understanding, placing a sweet, short-lived kiss to his lips. Then, another, more affectionate kiss. Each time, you had to lift yourself a bit on your tiptoes to reach him.

“I think I actually deserve one more,” he said, his hands still resting on your waist.

You smiled, but obliged. Your calves strained again as you reached up and placed your lips on his.

“Mm, one more.”

“Soobin.”

“Just one more,” he pouted again, “Please!”

He was lucky you loved him so much.

“You lean down this time. My legs hurt.”

He would do anything you asked him to, so naturally he listened. He leaned down, melting his lips onto yours in a kiss that was longer than the previous ones. It was a bit more sensual, too. The air seemed heavier and hotter in that moment. You could feel your back pressing against your car door.

When he let you go, his lips were puffy and his cheeks were a warm shade of pink. You giggled.

“What?”

“You just look really handsome right now.”

“You bet I do,” he spoke with elevated confidence in a joking manner, making you playfully nudge his arm.

“Dork.”

“I love you too. Drive safe,” he called as he started to walk the few feet to his car. He caught the way you smiled at him before getting in your car. Tonight, just like every night, he waited until your car drove off first before leaving. Then he would go home and wait for you to text him before falling peacefully asleep, knowing you would repeat this night again soon. He couldn’t wait.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this timestamp, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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murphy-kitt · 28 days ago

Text

Shock of a Lifetime

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Swearing

AO3

He’s always been a one for mystery and phenomena, that’s no lie. Chasing down the slightest hint of something off kilter, keen to dig down into the truth.

This? This is ridiculous. Absurd, stupid, every synonym he can think of.

Wes sits on the side of his bed, clinging to the bedsheets, praying that he won’t fall through onto the floorboards again. Luckily he hasn’t gone through the floor yet.

Maybe this is payback for discovering Fenton’s secret, he doesn’t know. Surely there’s a ghost out there currently relishing in the consequences of his actions.

Because he’s dead. Or, somewhat. The same thing as Fenton—but he’s never been sure what that is. Only that he’s Phantom and a pain to deal with.

Wes currently doesn’t have the tolerance to try and deal with the whole emotional baggage that death comes with. He just wants to go to school, get outside with his camera again, rewind.

A familiar tingling, and suddenly his left hand is gone.

“Great.” He yanks his hoodie sleeve down.

It’s not going away anytime soon.

Admittedly, it hadn’t been Wes’ smartest idea to enter a haunted house late at night. Even worse, to try and jumpstart the very clearly ecto-contaminated electrics.

Not his finest hour.

But he can’t exactly tell anyone either.

Hesitantly, Wes stands up and enters into the hallway, vigilant of any sudden change to his body. Thankfully, his arm returns to the visible plane.

“Wes, breakfast!” His dad’s voice echoes from down the stairs.

He manages to make it down the stairs, albeit slowly.

“You look pale.” His dad says when Wes enters the kitchen, midway through splattering jam on some anaemic-looking broad, “Anything wrong?”

Yeah, I’m fucking dead.

“I dunno.” Wes mumbles, shrugging as he slinks into a chair. And it’s not even far from the truth. “Just don’t feel good.”

“Too many nightly expeditions?” His dad chuckles, pushing the plate of toast towards him. “I know you break curfew a lot.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, because what else can he say? At least his Dad isn’t grounding him. More opportunity for him to supervise his every move.

“As long as you don’t get yourself into trouble or injured, I suppose a bit of exploring can’t hurt you.”

Wes takes a bite of the toast, wincing at the sour taste of ectoplasm on his tongue. Ever since his incident his taste hasn’t been the same. Wes hope it’s just a temporary side effect.

“Yeah. I might go out tonight.” He lies. Truthfully, he can’t stomach the thought of going sleuthing right now. Too soon. But it’ll give him some time out of the house.

When Wes walks down the corridor to his locker, it feels like all eyes are on him. Or maybe it’s the fact that every bone in his body is rigid stiff, his chest pounding unevenly, a constant humming in his ears and sour bile on his tongue.

Is this what Fenton feels like? Constantly worrying about every single slip up, that one wrong move will cause everything to falter?

Approaching his locker, Wes notes the A Listers rounding the corner, Fenton and his two sidekicks waiting outside a classroom door.

“You’re toast.” He mouths to Fenton, who narrows his eyes. Better to keep up the charade than nothing at all.

Wes goes to unravel the combination on the lock, but his hand slides right through.

Crap. He bites his tongue, pulling his hand back like it’s been burned. A quick glance around. The A Listers are gone, But Fenton’s still stood by the door, blue-green eyes narrowed. No sign of Manson or Foley.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” Fenton leverages back, pushing open the class door. “But you’re gonna be late if you keep messing about.”

“Since when have you cared about truancy?” Wes snaps, straightening up. There’s no point in trying to get his books now, not when Fenton’s on him like a hawk. He’s about to add ‘since you’re always ghost fighting’ but holds his tongue.

“Since when are you so clumsy?”

Wes stiffens, silent. How can he even respond to that?

“I’m not.” He retorts sharply, shoving past Fenton towards his chair.

Science, as usual, is a bore, with Mr Falluca copying equations on the board that Wes isn’t even sure is part of the curriculum. But he’s still stuck tense, rigid. Waiting for something to go wrong.

He remembers them months ago when Fenton had been berated for constantly dropping beakers and eventually banned from lab equipment. That’s the last thing Wes needs now, and would certainly arouse more suspicion from Fenton.

Then, the lights flicker. The thing in his chest hums louder, more intense. He clenches his fists, hairs on the back of his neck prick up. Wes isn’t exactly sure what it is yet, some equivalent of a ghostly heart?

The lights flicker again, dimming and brightening in intensity. Students start to chatter, pointing and looking up at the ceiling.

“Class—“ Fallucca tries, drowned out by noise.

But Wes isn’t thinking of that. He stares at his notes, all a blur of pointless knowledge. The thing is cold, thrumming in his chest, unwavering and uncertain. He can feel the pressure building like lightning bolts in his veins.

The lights are so bright, they’re blinding.

Then a pop. Glass shards rain down, sparkling diamonds scattered across the linoleum. Confused screeches and shouts of his class, Fallucca trying to herd them out to the hallway.

“It’s a ghost!”

“Dude! The lights just exploded!”

“Someone get Phantom!”

Wes doesn’t listen to any of it. Heart pounding in his ears, the constant thrumming in his chest, he sprints away without thinking. The nearest door is the boys bathroom, and he shoves the door open without a second thought.

It’s dark, the lights in here are also dead. But there’s no glass on the floor, at least.

Panting, Wes approaches the mirror, trying to calm himself. That was him. The ghost heart—thing. All that power.

What if he’d hurt someone?

He can’t—none of this makes sense. He should be dead, after the haunted house, after the electricity had fried his veins and boiled his blood and agonised him. But he’s not.

His heart still beats, he’s got a human appearance. No ghost form, or perhaps not yet, but invisibility and intangibility. And now electricity too.

The electricity is the only thing that makes sense—electric based death—electric based powers?

But yet, Wes still has no clue of what he is. In the mirror, his appearance is the same. A bit paler, but the ginger messy hair and freckles nonetheless.

Back when he’d hunted Fenton (and Wes isn’t sure if he’ll still do that), Wes hadn’t cared to define him in any specific terms. What only mattered was Fenton was Phantom and people refused to believe him.

Would be helpful to know what the hell Fenton is. Wes thinks, prodding at his chest. The thrumming isn’t as strong anymore, thankfully. But there’s still bustling and chatter outside, disturbed by the events.

I did that. Wes’ stomach unsettles, queasy. It could’ve been worse, yet, there’s all this power, waiting. Uncontrolled.

“So, what was that for?” An echoey voice behind him. Wes shoots up instantly.

There in the reflection, glowers Fenton, hovering slightly off the ground, arms crossed with a satisfied smirk upon his face. Green eyes narrowed.

“Piss off, Fenton.”

“Oh come on. Something’s clearly wrong. I mean, what happened to shouting about me being Phantom?” The ghost edges closer, and Wes turns around.

“Why are you so bothered?” He retorts, “As you say. I’m always going after you.”

“Oh come on. Something’s clearly wrong. I mean, what happened to shouting about me being Phantom?” The ghost edges closer, and Wes turns around.

“Why are you so bothered?” He retorts, “As you say. I’m always going after you.”

“Because you’re not usually like this, that’s why. You’ve been off for a week and now when you come back you don’t even start ranting about my supposed identity!”

“So supposed, Fenton.” Wes rolls his eyes, deflecting. Was he really that excessive about proclaiming Phantom’s true identity?

“Come on, Wes.” The ghost drops to the floor like a lead weight, tone softer. “I know you hate me for being a liar, or whatever, but I wanna help.

Wes considers. Fenton does look sincere, somehow his ectoplasm-green eyes managing to show a hint of concern.

But what if he does? Will Fenton flip it around and claim the same about Wes, exposing his new abilities when he’s barely got a grip on them? And, yeah, he supposes it would be hypocritical and such. To shout Fenton’s identity from the rooftops yet keep his own schtum.

Consequences of being reckless and thoughtless. Brilliant.

“Fine.” Wes looks to the floor, the white tile cracked and dirty, “I was in this haunted house. Y'know the one out of Elmerton?”

“Yeah. The one where a family haunts it? Blue and it’s got lots of trees outside?” Fenton asks.

“Mhm.” He kicks a tile with his shoe, the visions playing like a tape in his head. “I’d seen it on these forums about abandoned places. Thought it looked interesting, so I got my camera and decided to go last Friday after school. There was a window on the side open, so I went through there.”

“When you were in there you found the ghosts?” Fenton scans him up and down, as if scanning for injuries.

“No. There was no one.” He can still remember the eerie silence, only his heart thumping. “I was about to pack it in but I saw a green glow from this cupboard, thought I might as well do something productive.”

“And?”

“I—it was a fuse box. Or had been.”

“Oh.” He didn’t think it possible, but Fenton goes a few shades paler.

“Um—I. Yeah.” There needs no explanation, really, and Wes is silently grateful that Fenton doesn’t ask more. Maybe his experience was similar, he doesn’t know.

“Me too.” Fenton says, “It was electricity too. My parents' portal.”

“Damn.” Wes swallows down a gulp. Two weeks ago he was hunting Fenton down, now they’re discussing death similarities. What’s next? Comparing powers and singing kumbaya?

The bathroom lights flitter again.

“Stop that!” Fenton hisses, hands on his hips.

“I’m not doing anything!” Wes protests, crossing his arms. His chest feels tight, pressurised again.

“It is! Clearly the lights are reacting to your core’s temperament?”

“My what?” The heck is a core?

“It’s the new thing in your chest. The key part of a ghost’s being—like a heart, essentially.” Fenton clarifies.

“At least there’s a word for it.” Wes sighs, turning to the sink and splashes water on his face.

A core. He’s got a core, despite being human.

“And what are we, then?”

“It’s called being a halfa. Half-human, half-ghost.” Fenton says casually, as if it’s not a piece of earth shattering news.

What the fuck. Half-dead. Like the cat in a box

“Well that’s just brilliant.” Wes drawls, wiping his hands on his shorts before walking out the bathroom, ignoring Fenton all the while.

Now back to pretending everything hasn’t changed.

When Wes goes into school the next day, people are staring. Lots. He’s sure it’s not a figment of paranoia as people gawp and even stumble when they catch sight of him.

That’s him!

This whole time?

I suppose it makes sense, doesn’t it?

Wes doesn’t have a clue what exactly makes sense, but there’s a sneaking suspicion it’s probably to do with the core in his chest.

First period is English, something he really can’t be bothered to deal with. As expected, everyone is staring. Even Fenton, who looks a little sheepish.

“Wesley.” Lancer begins as Wes slumps to his desk. Another late mark, great.

“Given your…circumstances that I’ve recently been informed of, you are free to leave when needed.” The teacher says, taking him by surprise.

What circumstances? Certainly his powers are new, but only Fenton knows about those…or.

Did he get payback?

Wes swivels to face Fenton who looks caught out, shaking his head rapidly. Danny’s got every right to spill, yet there’s a genuity to his expression that unnerves him, that Danny is just as baffled.

It’s then he realises Lancer is looking at him.

“Oh.” Wes coughs. “Thanks for the…lenience.”

They’re allocated group work. Because of course.

And then the entire classroom erupts, practically diving towards him except Fenton and Gray. Talking so fast that Wes can barely understand anything.

“Hey Phantom! Why’d you claim that Fenton was you the entire time?” Dash practically shouts in his face.

“I can’t believe Weston is the ghost boy.” Paulina looks far from happy, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“What.”

He doesn’t even know how they’ve managed to jump to this chasm of a conclusion. Either Fenton told them about his powers..or...what? He’s not got a clue.

“How? Uh..how’d you find me out?” Wes coughs into his sleeve.

“Yesterday, of course!” Dash insists, “Fallucca’s class and the lights went all creepy. You disappeared and then Phantom showed up.”

“You have to be Phantom because you disappeared when he was here.” Paulina adds on.

As if that’s not the exact same thing he’s been saying about Fenton for months. How fucking dense can the people in Caspar High be?

“And, dude, you look a lot like him.” Kwan chimes in.

“Right yeah. That’s…certainly something.” He folds his arms, not sure what else to respond. They all stare intently, as if by some chance they’ll see any indication of Phantom, the green eyes, the confidence.

“What about Fenton then?” Wes asks breezily, not missing the way a person a few chairs down drops their pen (definitely Fenton).

“You used him as a cover, of course. Dunno why you picked him though, of course no one would ever believe that wimp was a ghost!”

“Sure did.” He nods, because none of this makes any fucking sense. So his class have decided that he’s Phantom based on the sole fact that Wes wasn’t present when Phantom was, that he’s using Fenton as a cover. Despite a full detailed analysis of Fenton and Phantom, no one dared believe him.

“Go on then, show us something!” Dash insists, eager. Forgetting that Wes isn’t the former basketball star he shoved around just last week.

“Why should I?” Wes retorts, eyes narrowed.

He thinks of all the times he’s followed Fenton, the photos and the notes. Corkboard with red tape, everything. He’s nearly lucky it’s come to this. How close could it have been for someone to actually take Wes’ words and believe them?

Because now that Wes is like this, a halfa. He certainly doesn’t want anyone gawping at him, invading every single type of space surrounding him. He doesn’t want a mishap of powers, being vulnerable in front of people.

Let alone the stream of ghost hunters and government agencies.

God, he hadn’t even thought of that. The Fenton’s hunting their own son. Wanting to destroy him molecule by molecule.

“Why should I show you something? Phantom has a damned good reason to hate me, and yet he still helped me”

"Why is he talking about himself in the third person?” A small voice mutters.

“You think everything would change just because I’m the ghost boy? That I’m instantly going to warm up to you and should comply with everything you say?” Wes can feel his core beginning to thrum again. “You threw me to the floor two weeks ago, Baxter.”

“Meh. Forgive and forget.” Dash waves a hand.

“I don’t think so.” Wes twists to see Fenton, head tilted and eyes narrowed. “I’m not him, although I doubt you’ll listen. But he could be anyone in this class or school.”

Wes remembers the corkboard again. His recordings. Swears when he gets home he’ll burn them, everything gone. Start again.

“ I dunno about you, but maybe think before you act, yeah? I know I should’ve.”

Multiple times. Fenton. His own death.

In a way, his half-death? A chance to start again.

A/N: My first phic of the phight in 2025! It’s good to be back since I missed out on 2024. And ofc the first fic is a Wes one.

Prompt: Wes has become half ghost, and everyone assumes he was Phantom the entire time.

Word Count: 2688

#danny phantom #phic phight 2025 #phic phight 25 #wes weston #halfa Wes #angst with a hopeful ending #phic phight

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moon-child-goddess · 1 year ago

Text

When we say goodbye Pt 3

Pairings: Druig X LightBender!Eternal!Reader (Fem)

Summary: They stop the emergence and figure out what life holds for them.

Warnings: MCU Violence, Blood, Fighting, I used Fem pronouns, Kissing I guess, stray from canon events.

Author's note: I once again got carried this is 6k words. I tried to make it really fluffy. Also sorry it is late i was sick.

Part one Part Two

Druig studied the gold details caved into the walls of the plane. They looked a lot like the ones on the ship they came here on. The place that was their home for thousands of years. There was a black sectional in front of a theater screen that was playing a movie with no sound on. It was over the top compared to Kingos she had spared no expense. He didn’t know where to sit for the long flight. Y/N had made it clear to Druig that she was still mad at him and was doing this for the others.

Y/N currently sat on the couch in the corner by a window. A pile of papers was splayed out in front of her with no clear organization to them. She held on to a burner phone pressing it hard to her ear. A picture of three men opening a crate was clutched in her hand. She let out a loud sigh tossing the photo to the side, and shuffled through papers looking for one file that she swore she grabbed on her way out. She spoke in a hushed whisper trying to keep Druig out of her business. However, he could make out a few words.

“Take care of it Loretta… I know but you are… Call him… Don’t make me beg.”

When she hung up, she narrowed her eyes a raised her brow at him.

“You just going to stand there? or sit?” Y/N snapped the phone in half and handed it to the stewardess on the plane. And went back to looking through the files. She still had work to do if the world survived the emergence.

Druig however didn’t move, he didn’t even blink, he just stared at her. He was at a loss for words.

“Staring is rude Dru. I know Ajak taught you that.” She spoke softly looking up from the file. He finally sat down leaving four feet of space between them. Druig stared at the movie playing trying to distract himself from the silence they were in. His gaze flickered over to Y/N occasionally wanting to interrupt her work but didn’t know what to say.

Y/N could feel his eye drilling into the side of her head. She read the same paragraph over and over again the words blurred together. His presence was distracting to her and feeling his eyes on her was not helping. She couldn’t do the work she wanted, and she needed to find a way to get rid of spiderman.

“Y/N?”

“No. I told you I would help. We are not friends. You stay there in your corner. I will continue to act like you are not here.” Druig sighed. He was once again at a loss of how to approach the situation.

Y/N became annoyed. All she could hear was him breathing and swore he was making up words for the movie. He was mumbling about something, but she wasn’t sure what. She pushed the papers into a somewhat neat pile. Then tossed them in to the bag she brought, and stared out the window as the dark sky.

“Do you hate me that much?” Druig spoke in a whisper. His accent made it hard for her to make out the words.

Y/N exhaled rolling her eyes. In truth no she did not hate him. She wanted to viscerally hate him, but she never could bring herself to even dislike him even after all this time. He was a light in her life that she lost and missed the warmth he brought her. That safe and secure feeling she had when he was near. It was just easier to wallow in pity and pretend that she hated him. Fake it till you make it was her motto for the last two thousand years.

“I- I don’t know. Not to sound like a broken record but you hurt me. I thought I meant more to you than the others. Because as much as you deny it you cared about them. But you left me when I begged you to take me.” She paused, taking a deep breath and licked her lips before continuing.

“Discarded me like human waste. Was I just temporary entertainment to you?”

He took the opportunity to scoot closer causing Y/N to stare at him instead of the dark sky. He stopped about a foot away testing the waters. He wanted to touch her. To comfort her and make her see she was his world.

“Sunshine. You must know you were the only one I genuinely cared about, besides Makkari.”

“Then why did you leave me?” Y/N cried out. And repeated the question quieter with glassy eyes. Tears threatening to spill out.

“I am so sorry sunshine. I didn’t want to leave you, but I was trying to be selfless for once. You loved every single one of them more than I could comprehend. I couldn’t pull you away from that, and you end up regretting it.”

She scoffed and looked back out the window staring into the black void of the night sky.

“They all left me too. I had sprite on and off during that time. But those two thousand years were hell. You took a part of me I don’t think I will ever get back.”

Druig reached out and gently grasped her hand rubbing his thumb over her wrist stopping at her pulse. He wanted to fix this. It was never his intention to hurt her.

“Was it really that bad?” She pulled her hand out of his hold and set it in her lap.

“I watched the man I loved walk away from me, and then the man I fell in love with was murdered in front of me. We got six glorious years that was it. A blink to us eternals.”

Druig flinched. Loved? As in past tense? he thought. Scared of the answer she may give him. She kept looking out the window refusing to acknowledge him. Y/N pulled her feet up on the chair hugging her knees to her body trying to make herself look small. She wanted this conversation to end. Every emotion she had pushed away for centuries was surfacing.

“Loved?” Druig couldn’t resist, he had to know. Y/N pinched her lips frowning.

“That’s what you care about? You don’t have to worry I got over my unrequited love a while ago.”

“Do you honestly believe that I didn’t love you? Please look at me Y/N” His voice was raw, and she hesitated to do what he asked. Eventually giving in to the side that still cared for him.

They stared at each other. His blue eyes keeping eye contact with her. Feeling overwhelmed with the emotions he held in his eyes she turned her head slightly. He moved with her to keep eye contact.

“You must know you are the only one I care about. Y/N, I never wanted anything more in my life. You are beautiful and my sunshine. Every time I called you sunshine that was me saying ‘I love you’. I was scared that I had these feelings and you deserved better.”

Y/N let a tear escape. She didn’t know what to say to him. Druig gave her everything she wanted to hear from him.

“I will apologize for the rest of our existence. I will beg on my knees for you to let me back in.”

Y/N giggled through the tears that fell. A sight she would have liked to see. He cupped her face wiping the drops away giving her a soft smile. Her skin was cold to his warm hands.

“I don’t know what to say.” She whispered. For once she was at a loss for words.

In response he laughed, his breath fanning over her face. The minty smell was overwhelming. She scooted closer to him, their faces a centimeter apart. Her eyes bore into his. She took a deep breath to stop the tears. His familiar smell filled her senses again. Oh how she had missed this familiarity, the feeling of home.

“You still smell good, and it is infuriating.” She mumbled.

He laughed again, his accent coming out a bit more. This was the person he knew. The one he loved.

“So do you.”

Y/N shook her head his hands falling one landing on her thigh. She laid her head on his shoulder suddenly very tired. Druig rested his cheek on the top of her hair, savoring her touch and made a silent promise to never let her go again.

Soft snores came from her as she slept soundly. He took in her tranquil state and traced a finger over her features softly to avoid waking her up.

----

“Why are you wearing a leather jacket in the desert?” Y/N teased as they tracked through the hot sandy hills of Iraq.

“Because I like it.” Druig shrugged, sending her a small smile.

The outline of the rest of the eternals grew the closer they got. Y/N picked up speed practically running to them. Druigs hand shot out resting on her lower back ready to catch her if she fell. The closer they got the faster she sprinted. After being apart from most of them for centuries she was ecstatic to see her family again. Mainly Thena and Sprite (but she would never tell anyone that). Sprite had been her best friend through the toughest of times.

“Y/N” Sprite called out when she saw her figure approaching.

Sprite ran toward her. Once close enough they enveloped each other in a bone crushing hug. Y/N clung on just a little longer. The last hug she had with her was at Giovanni’s funeral.

“I am sorry I pushed you away Sprite.”

“It’s ok, I get it. I was going to lecture you about finding yourself again plus you were in a dark place.” Sprite held an honest and forgiving tone as she let Y/N go.

Y/N bit chewed on her upper lip. She knew this kindness was more than she deserved after everything she had done, but it meant the world to her that Sprite still treated her the same.

“I am working things out, but I am here to assist.”

“May I cut in?” The blonde warrior asked from behind sprite.

Y/N squealed. Launching herself at the unsuspecting women.

Thena smiled and grabbed Y/N’s face. Her eyes traced over the girls’ features taking in every inch of the face she hadn’t seen in so long. Y/N looked the same, just tired and a little sadder in the eyes. After a moment Thena picked Y/N up in a bear hug twirling them both around. Both of them let out a giggle. It was the happiest Y/N has felt in a long time.

“I have missed you.” The warrior spoke while setting Y/N back on her feet.

“As I you.”

“Sorry to interrupt this moment, but Druig can you get rid of the humans over here?” Phastos called out from where he stood.

Druig nodded and glanced back over at Y/N. She was still smiling at the two people in front of her, clearly elated. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. In the time apart from her he often dreamed about that smile. He nudged her shoulder hands in his jacket pockets and tilted his head towards everyone else. Y/N gave him the same smile and looped her arm through his walking with him. It felt like the good times when they would stroll around town before everyone was awake.

Y/N said a soft hello once they stopped near the others. Sersi gave her a light embrace muttering a sweet hello.

“This is Y/N she can manipulate light into anything she wants it to be.” Kingo held an animated tone while speaking directly to the camera Karun was holding. Karun panned over to the women who waved at him not entirely sure what was going on.

“Not anymore. I can manipulate shadows though.” Y/N tried to sound carefree as she spoke it aloud to the group, but failed there was an edge to her tone.

“Oh really! I may need to change the script for my next movie then.”

“You are still making those?”

“Yes, the people love me.” Kingo said in a duh tone.

“Who is this man?”

“Oh, that is my assistant Karun.”

“And he hasn’t run for the hills?”

Kingo shot Y/N a glare offended. He didn’t have a chance to remark as the wind picked up as Phastos summoned the ship. Sand blew towards them. Y/N was cursing the fact that she was the only one who didn’t bring sunglasses. She buried her face in Druigs back holding her breath. She let out a small gasp when Druig reached behind and set a hand on her hip.

----

The group of eternals crept through the ship at a snail’s pace. Kingo whispered into the video camera speaking ominous words that sent a chill through the group. He was acting as if there was going to be an axe murder hiding on board to kill them.

“What are you doing? You know you are creeping us out right?” Phastos spoke up.

As if on que a loud pop echoed through the hall. Causing Y/N to flinch at the loud sound. She let out a small yelp and clung on to Druigs side. He let out a soft chuckle before putting an arm around her shoulder pulling her in closer.

“Its ok,” He murmured in her ear. “Thena stepped on something.”

“You turned my lab into a sarcophagus?” Phastos cried out to Makkari using his right hand to gesture around at the things strewn about.

Makkari was perched on a throne with a plethora of books surrounding her. She smiled once the group came to a stop in front of her. She asked them if it was time to go home.

Y/N’s face twisted into a grimace not ready to break her spirit. She too wished to leave this plant and start over. Makkari frowned once she took in everyone’s sullen expressions.

“Who is going to tell her?” Y/N asked. She did not want to be the one to crush her spirit. She may have been a cruel person to those that deserved it, but she couldn’t do it to her family.

“I will do it.” Kingo volunteered after a moment of no one talking.

Phastos got to work immediately wasting no time in finding a solution. While the rest started rummaging through the goods in the room.

Y/N was rummaging through a box of paintings next to where Sprite sat on the ground. The red head was reading an old scroll. It was in a language Y/N had long forgotten. She stumbled across a dusty painting that a king had once gifted her.

‘It would be such a shame no to capture such beauty.’ He had said to her while obnoxiously drunk at one of his parties. No matter what Y/N said he would not take no for an answer. Leading her to reluctantly agree to letting him commission a piece. She pulled it out of the crate to look at it better. The colors had faded throughout the centuries.

“That king wanted to marry you. He almost proposed too, but Druig got involved.” Sprite spoke up. Lowering the scroll she was reading from. At the mention of his name Druig turned to face them. His jaw clenched when he took in what Y/N was holding.

“I merely saved him from heartbreak when she inevitably said no.” Druig called out. Y/N rolled her eyes setting the painting back to its proper place.

Y/N narrowed her eyes as she watched Druig pick up her old journal from a pile in the corner of the room. Before he could open it she took off towards him. It was full of so many things that she didn’t want anyone to read.

“Give it to me.” Y/N panted once in front of him.

“Oh, you want this” He held the book above his head with a smirk.

Y/N huffed out and jumped up trying to get it. On the third try her hands touched the leather. She had half the mind to tackle him, but she knew he wouldn’t budge. Instead, Y/N got on a table to make herself taller.

“Yes, now please give it to me, or I will stab you.” The threat fell on deaf ears, as Druig lifted her from the table setting her back on the ground. He rested his forehead to hers smiling down at her angry look. He held the journal out to the side still just out of her grasp.

“What’s in here? Your dirty thoughts?”

“No.” Y/N blushed answering way too quickly. A heat coursing through her face.

Druig cackled, bringing everyone’s attention to the two for a second. He handed her the brown leather book tapping her nose with it before walking away.

Y/N made a mental note to burn the book as soon as possible while hiding it under a pile of miscellaneous items. On the other end of the table was an old talisman Ajak had loved and wore it often. Y/N picked it up her heart breaking at the realization she would never see the women again. The air around her became stale as she tried to steady her beathing. Losing all the joy she had moments ago.

“Now where did you end up finding the Emerald tablet at Makkari?” Druig asked not too far from where Y/N stood lost in her thoughts.

Y/N grinned and turned to them. She had found it at an underground black-market auction. Where she bought it for more money than she cared to admit. A trusted friend of hers had packed it and delivered it personally to Makkari. With a note apologizing for ever doubting that it was real. It was her penance for making fun of her friend looking for something that sounded insane.

‘After all this time I found it. Sorry for doubting you- Love Y/N/N.’

Makkari pointed at Y/N. Signing out the story to Druig with a small grin on her lips. It was a fond memory of hers when the mysterious package showed up.

Y/N plucked the tablet from Druigs’ unsuspecting hands. Her fingers brushed over the carvings on the stone. When she bought it she had barley looked at before sending it off. There was a lot to do, and the CIA had been on their way to her base in California. Druig watched as she bit down on her bottom lip furrowing her eyebrows at the green rock.

‘You finally admit you love her?’ Makkari signed to him with a knowing smile.

‘Shut up’ he signed back.

“I found a way to connect us all” Phastos called out pulling everyone back to him.

The plan was insane. Even if it did work who knew what the repercussions would be.

The group began to do what they do best and bicker with one another. It was irksome to Y/N that they were here to save the humans and they still were all in disagreement. She rolled her eyes tuning out the yelling. Eventually they would calm down and they could try to solve the plot holes in the plan.

“We could be responsible for billions of lives not being created in the universe. Boss am I right?” Kingo cried out his words seemed to confuse Ikaris.

“Say something Ikaris! Y/N?” Sprite spoke out. A quite tension filling the room as they all stared one another down.

“I don’t care what we do one way or another.” Y/N spoke. “We run a risk no matter what. Arishem will be mad at us.”

Ikiaris suddenly ran out of the room clearly shaken. Y/N knew that look on his face he was guilty of something she wasn’t sure what it was, but he carried a look of guilt in his eyes.

----

Y/N sat on a table watching Phastos work in awe. His fingers were incased in gold circles making rings on his fingers as he worked. He was rushing to find the answers and find some way to help Druig put the celestial to sleep. If the situation wasn’t so life or death it would have been a beautiful thing to watch.

“I am close to figuring it out.” Phastos glanced up at Ikaris who strolled into the room. The man glanced at everyone in the room before clenching his jaw and swallowed. His eye shifted to a gold color.

“Watch out!” Kingo hollered.

Y/N body tackled Phastos to the ground not caring if she got hit in the process. They needed him more than anything.

Sersi booked it into the room, joining the chaos that was quickly erupting.

“He lied to us he knew about the emergence.” Sersi spoke standing in front of Phastos. Protecting him from Ikaris.

“No.” Kingo said in disbelief. Voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Ajak told me everything when we left Babylon.”

“If Ajak wanted you to take her place, then why did she choose me?” Sersi swallowed. Deep down she knew the answer and was ready to face it. It was all Y/N needed to know that he did something unspeakable it connected all the dots.

“What have you done?” Sersi whispered when Ikaris made no move to answer her.

“He killed her.” Druig and Y/N said at the same time.

The group went silent.

“You are a pathetic murderer.” Y/N snarled.

It was hypocritical of her to say she knew that, but he killed family. Someone innocent. One of the only family members they had.

“That’s rich coming from you. How many people have you killed?” Ikaris softly spoke his tone apathetic towards her.

Y/N Flinched taking a step toward him. She expected that answer honestly but wasn’t ready for her family’s judgement. Even coming from someone as pathetic as Ikaris. She understood why Druig hated him so much.

“I am not below taking one of a douche canouche.”

With in a blink there was a terrible troll like monster behind the smug man in blue. One twitch of her pinky and it would attack. A wicked smile crossed her lips. She would cross a line to redeem Ajak any day.

“Y/N” Druig called out. He took slow long strides to where she stood.

“Why?” Sersi managed to ask through her tears.

“I had to.”

Y/N screamed out ready to lunge at him. That was a pathetic answer; had to do it? She didn’t know when she grabbed one of her knives, but it was gripped tightly in a way that was useless. It wouldn’t do her any good in a fight against him anyway, but she didn’t care. She was willing to try. Druig wrapped an arm around her waist stopping her movements.

“Stop its not worth it.” He whispered to her. Trying to pull her back in.

This was not a fight they needed now. There was an emergence to stop.

“You will not succeed against me. I will kill everyone of you if I have to.” Those were Ikaris’s last words before he started to walk out.

“Wait. I am going with you.” Sprite finally spoke.

“Sprite no.” Y/N wanted to say more but in a blink of the eye they disappeared.

----

Sersi, makkari, Druig and Y/N started down the volcano that smoke was emerging out of. It was ready to blow at any moment.

“It’s time” Sersi said once it rumbled.

Before Druig could do anything, Ikaris was there knocking him over.

“Ikaris” Y/N warned the man.

“I should have done this five centuries ago” Ikaris spit out ignoring the yells, while pulling Druig up by the throat.

“Druig.” Y/N called out as ikrais flew off with him. Makkari screamed.

They watched as Ikaris threw Druig down. Both of them feeling utterly helpless in the moment. Then watched him attack the ship bringing it down. It was going to crash on them if they didn’t move. Makkari fast as always pulled everyone out of the way from the ship coming down.

“Druigs gone now its over.” Ikaris said from above them.

No, no, this cannot be happening. He cannot be dead. Y/N’ thoughts paced. Their plan was quickly falling apart. She went through rapid emotions before settling on anger. If Makkari hadn’t run off with him she would have attacked. Rage gripped her heart. She wanted to hurt the man for taking so much from them.

The volcano rumbled again before erupting, setting off a minor earthquake. The environment around them began to change quickly.

“I have to get closer to Tiamut. Distract Ikaris” Sersi begged the group.

“My pleasure.” Y/N spoke mincingly in a ready to attack position.

They all took a chance at stopping him from doing killing anyone else. Phastos shot pierced the air missing the man who seemed to be unstoppable. Thena fierce and unstoppable unleashed her weapons each strike doing some damage.

Y/N felt like a bystander desperate to do something, anything. But there were not enough dark patches for her to pull from. Her heart began to thunder against her chest when she realized how powerless she was.

“Y/N use the light.” Thena called out to her from chaos on the other side of the beach.

“I don’t think I can.” Y/N confessed her fingers trembling.

“Try!” The blonde women commanded.

Y/N obeyed the warrior and reached out to the light trying to form anything. Light responded forming a fragile rope of gold it whipped out. As quickly as she had formed it dissipated in to the wind.

She groaned, growing frustrated, and tried again. Shadows merged with the light. Shadowy golden monsters materialized scattering across the beach. Thena let out a whistle at the unexpected power of the girl.

Emerging from the depths of the ocean a deviant appeared in its grotesque form capturing every eye on the beach. Y/N hurled every monster in her arsenal at the creature. It was a useless attempt. Every time her monster got a cut or hit in the deviant mended itself unbothered. He managed to take out Y/N’s army quickly.

It lunged for Ikaris, hungry for blood. It was ready to attack him, and consume his powers. Phastos, however, saved him from an untimely fate.

“Why are we helping him?” Thena asked and Y/N wanted to know the answer as well.

“We can’t let him absorb our powers.” Phastos stayed calm. Ready to fight back.

Thena managed to drag the creature’s attention to the cave across the way. They all called out trying to stop her before Ikaris attacked again. This time Y/N held him down with ropes of black. The flying man was now grounded in front of her.

“Don’t do this Y/N.”

“See Ikaris you took all I had left. Which means I have no will to live, and that right there makes me dangerous.”

Ikaris struggled aging the bounds, but the more he fought the harder the hold she had on him became. The man screamed out in anguish trying to shoot lasers at the girl. They missed and the Shadows covered his eyes blinding him temporarily. Y/N let out a giggle this was rich she had the upper hand, and she was going to take advantage of it. He would have a fate worse then the man who had betrayed her 56 hours ago.

“Guys the world is literally starting to collapse.” Phastos turned her attention to the damage happening around them.

Tiamut began to emerge from the pits of the earth. Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected but the thing was massive. They were losing the fight and it started to scare her a little. They could die and it would have all been for not. Her powers lessened their hold on Ikaris, and he took the moment to escape.

But before he could do anything the celestial began to turn white. Sersi was freezing it, and Ikaris took off angrier than ever.

Y/N laid sprawled out on the beach closing her eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and unable to stay open. Exhaustion clung to her limbs, she was ready to sink in to oblivion and forget that Druig once again slipped through her finger. A single tear escaped trailing down her cheek landing in the grains of sand. She squeezed her eyes tight refusing to feel the pain. Heartbreak had followed her for years and she didn’t want to feel it anymore. Yearned to cut the ties with that pain.

“You know Sunshine, I thought you would be a little more upset.” Druigs voice cut out through her haze. The accent wasn’t as thick as usual there was a softer edge to it.

“Another hallucination great.” She muttered out bitterly. “How long will these ones-“

“Y/N look at me please. I am here. I wont ever leave you again.”

She cracked an eye open and he was there looking down at her. A smug smile on his face and delightfully real. She shot her feet and put a hand on his chest. One of his hands came up and held it there anchoring her hold.

“I thought you left me again.” It was a barley audible whisper. As fragile as glass.

“Never my beautiful beautiful sunshine”

“Hug me please” She begged him, and she never begged a vulnerability she rarely displayed.

Druig didn’t make her ask twice. He pulled her body to him his arms cocooning her to him. His face nestled in the crook of her neck, and she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. They closed their eyes taking in the warmth of the hug.

“You are alive.” She murmured aginst his shoulder. “I forgive you. You are alive - don’t leave me again.”

“Never. I promise” His words tickled her neck.

----

It was a warm afternoon at Ajaks house. Y/N sat on the porch staring out at the grassy field, avoiding the group inside. They were making plans for their future, and she was more lost than ever. Unsure of what to do. Loretta was officially in charge of the empire she had built. Y/N told her exactly how to shake the spiderman and wished her all the luck.

Y/N mindlessly created butterflies letting them fly away to eventually disappear. Part of her wanted to just disappear and do nothing for at least fifty years. Vacation in the Poconos and maybe Greece.

“Ahh there you are sunshine.”

Druig was standing behind her. Hands fisted in his coat pocket. He watched a butterfly fly away before sitting next to her. His blue eyes traced her face trying to figure out what she was feeling.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what I am going to do now. I gave Loretta the business, and now I have nowhere to call home or go.”

She was anxious and afraid, her heart beating against her ribs. Fear wound its claws through her thoughts. Even though he was standing there and promised to never leave she couldn’t help but wonder if he would abandon her again.

“I was thinking about going with Thena. Join us in finding other Eternals, it will be an adventure. If you don’t want to though I will follow you wherever you go. I never want to be parted from you again. We can make a life anywhere you want.”

Y/N leaned into him laying her head on his shoulder whispering an ok. Druig with a gentle finger under her chin lifted her face to meet his gaze.

“Yeah?” a smirk splayed on his lips.

“Yes.”

With those words Druig picked Y/N up and moved her to his lap. Her knees finding their place on either side of his hips. His large hand cradling the the back of her neck drawing her face down to his. Her breath mingling with his. He nudges her nose with his own. Hesitation dances in his eyes, a delicate balance between longing and fear, as he debated on crossing the line he has yearned to cross throughout his entire existence.

“Dru.” She whispered her tone fragile a secret hidden in her words.

He hums in response.

“I love you.” She confessed.

And in that suspended moment, the world ceased to exist. His lips met hers like a man starved. It was needy and rushed, but it was perfect. His kiss was a wild storm, a tempest that promised her forever. She melted into him pushing her body closer to his, her body seeking solace in him. Her soul was home in his arms. His hand, once firm on her neck, now cradled her face. Fingers slowly threading through her hair. She whimpered, lost in the sensation—the taste of him.

He smiled against her lips at the sound and broke away. Druig kissed down her jaw, a trail of fire left behind each one. Each touch was a vow etched into her skin. And as she caught her breath, she knew: this kiss was the beginning of their forever.

She pulled him back giving him a peck. He groaned wanting more after finally knowing what it was like to have her.

“Dru.”

He hummed again in response, trying to kiss her, but she shook her head. The laugh he missed escaping her.

“Thank you for not hating me and what I did.”

“My beautiful, beautiful sunshine, never. I love you. I always have.”

She let him kiss her again. Ready for their next chapter.

#druig imagine #druig x reader #eternals imagine #eternals x reader #marvel imagine

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apomaro-mellow · 8 months ago

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Runaway Royalty 3

Part 2

At the proposition, Steve and Robin shared a look during which an entire conversation was had.

It’s not a part of our plan. They’ve got numbers on us. They don’t seem like they’d leave us for dead. Especially if we joined. They’re the biggest threat on this trail. We can use them to get where we’re going.

“My sister and I are headed south”, Steve said. “Is your pack going that way?”

“We’re actually headed west”, a young man with curly hair said.

Steve and Robin shared a look again and the rogues around them were just as dumbfounded as the first time.

“Do you think this is normal for them?”, someone whispered.

“I know it’s not normal for me”, someone else muttered.

“We’ll go with you”, Robin answered, arms crossed. “But don’t expect us to be all cutthroat and deceptive and stuff.”

“Oh of course, not without introductions. Bandit Prince Eddie, at your service”, the alpha bowed. “My fellow rogues, Gareth, Jeffrey, Harold, I would trust them with my life.”

The three nodded their heads as their names were said. But they weren’t the only ones in the camp. Robin gestured to the rest milling about, going on as if there weren’t two newcomers to their den.

“And those guys?” They looked older. And significantly more rough than Eddie and his peers.

Eddie grinned. “Folks from my father’s old pack.”

“What happened to the Bandit King?”, Steve asked.

The man had been a scourge for decades both in the kingdom of Loch Nora and the kingdom of Forest Hills. His activity had calmed down somewhat in the past few years, but the legend was enough to keep travelers alert on the main roads, usually.

“My old man fell in love. And renounced his wicked ways.” Eddie gave Steve a meaningful look and for just a second, things seemed to stand still.

“We’re nearly ready to go”, one of the other members of the pack announced.

That was when the royal twins realized the activity going around the camp wasn’t just the pack moving about, they were packing up, getting ready to move. It made sense. One couldn’t be a roving band if they didn’t actually rove.

“Perfect”, Eddie said. “I want us in caravan formation.”

“You guys have formations?”, Robin questioned.

“Leading a pack takes strategy, whether you’re a leader of a household or of criminals.”

Steve and Robin rested on a large log for a few minutes while the last bits of camp were put away and then the whole group was off. Eddie walked towards the front of the pack. Robin and Steve walked alongside a horse-driven cart. Eddie talked with one of his friends, Jeff, but they couldn’t hear from where they were.

“Is this really a good idea?”, Robin asked.

“It is an idea”, Steve simply replied.

“Hey what was that back there?”, she suddenly changed the subject.

“Hm?”

“Don’t act coy, it looks stupid on you. You know what I mean. There was a moment where you and that Eddie guy-it was gross.”

“Oh grow up”, Steve rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with a little romance? Aren’t we on an adventure?”

“Romance? With the prince of thieves? I should have never read those swashbuckling tales to you.”

“But you did”, Steve reminded her. “And now I can choose. So why not Eddie?”

Robin’s nose scrunched. “No accounting for taste, I suppose.”

“Please, you don’t know what it’s like. You basically had your choice of partners.” Everyone wanted the hand of the dashing alpha who would run day rule an entire kingdom. Compared to him, Robin left behind a veritable harem. Her betrothed hadn’t been chosen yet. Steve was the one who had been trapped.

They continued to walk until dusk, when they set up a temporary camp. The pack sat around the fire, winding down from a day’s travels, people forming their own little groups within it all.

“Tomorrow some of us will head to town to get a few more supplies. After that, we’ll begin our journey in earnest. It’s time for the Corroded Coffin to find a new home!”

There were cheers and raised cups to that and even the prince and princess felt a little mirthful. They slept on bedrolls next to each other, it felt the beginning of a grand adventure indeed.

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

Eddie held the feed bucket up to the horse when Jeff came up to him. He knew the most pragmatic of their group approaching him could only mean a lecture, so he hoped to butter him up a bit.

“Jeffrey! The morning sun makes you glow like an angel from above~”

Jeff crossed his arms. “Why are you letting those two tag along? They were just supposed to be marks.”

Eddie knew that. Knew from their clothing that they came from money, or at least had it on them. It should have been nothing to overpower them and take whatever they wanted off the siblings. So why hadn’t they?

“I just think it’s a good idea to bring up our numbers. Can never have too many thieves”, he said, not meeting his friend’s gaze.

“And I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with one of them being a pretty omega?”

Eddie scoffed about three times before waving a hand and shaking his head. “Listen to you! Me! Getting all moon-eyed over someone I just met! That would be terribly ironic, would it not? Give me more credit, Jeff, please. I just think they would be great additions. And if I’m proven wrong, they can be just as good as scapegoats.”

“Riiiight.” Jeff leaned against the cart the horses were already attached to. “It wouldn’t just be ironic, you know. It would be stupidly hypocritical.”

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about me. I’m not that flighty.”

“You’ve already taken flight once”, Jeff said before leaving Eddie to his feeding.

Once fed, Eddie decided it would be him, Gareth as well as their two newest recruits to go into town. “You both look the most reputable among us”, he had reasoned. “And I wanna see what you’re made of.”

The town was just over a small ridge and at this bright hour was bustling with activity. Eddie grinned as he found a mark. He leaned into Steve’s space. “Watch this”, he said before walking past a man, bumping shoulders briefly and walking off with his coin purse.

“The classic move. But Gareth here is a master at the art of misdirection”, Eddie said as Gareth got to work.

Steve and Robin watched Gareth when he walked up to a booth, distracting the merchant and seeming very interested in the fruit on one part of the booth while using his other hand to stuff nuts into a pouch at his side. In the end, Gareth traded a bit of coin for a few apples and the merchant was none the wiser.

“Alright, that was admittedly impressive”, Robin praised. “For common criminals”, she teased.

“Oh? You wanna show us how it’s done?”, Eddie smirked at the challenge.

Robin grabbed Steve’s wrist, much to his protest. What was she doing? They’d never stolen anything bigger than a pastry from the royal kitchens. And really was it stealing when it came from your own home?

“We can’t-”

“Yes we can, get out of your head. Besides, if you want to run with thieves, you’ve got to play the part”, she reminded him. “Just follow my lead.”

Robin’s eyes zeroed in on their target. An older gentleman, just by a few years it looked, was taking his time in choosing the proper produce between an orange carrot and a yellow one. Robin nudged Steve hard with her elbow and he rolled his eyes before going forward.

Neither Eddie nor Gareth could hear what he said, but it all came down to body language. The way the omega’s eyelashes fluttered, leaned over slightly, allowed his eyes to rake up and down the other man’s body, even putting his hand on his arm briefly. All while Robin tried to creep up from behind and reach into his pocket.

She was able to pull a handful of something, but flicked her wrist on the release too hard, making her presence known.

“Hey! What the hell!?”

Robin was frozen in her spot and Steve was the one to grab her arm and pull her through the crowd. Eddie and Gareth ran after as the man gave chase to reclaim what was stolen.

“You and your noodle hands! Do you undress a lover with those fingers!?”, Steve shouted as they raced away.

“These noodles fixed your wreck of a hair!”

They were able to turn a corner and lose him so that they could catch their breaths. Robin opened her hand to count their haul only to be met with a bunch of pebbles.

“What the fuck?”

The two practiced thieves cackled and nearly went to their knees. Tears in his eyes, Eddie stood up straight.

“You get points for effort. And Steve here gets a ribbon for his part.”

Robin rolled her eyes, about to retort that she played an equal part and it would have been a victorious haul had it been actual money when a fanfare of trumpets sounded. A crier began to shout as a crowd gathered.

Steve’s heart began to pound in his ears as only bits and pieces of the message were relayed to him and he felt the sensation of shackles around his ankles, or of sinking into mud, or being carried off by an undertow.

Prince Stephen, reported stolen, high reward…

Robin had to shake him out of his reverie. “Did you hear that?!”

“What? Yes. What?”

“Prince Edwin of Forest Hills is missing!”, she shouted to his face.

“What?”

“See, I knew you weren’t listening. Where do you think he’s gone?” Then she whispered. “Do you think it was cold feet?”

“How do two royal siblings go missing?”, Eddie asked the wind. His face appeared a tad pale. “Stolen? With Loch Nora’s defenses?”

“One royal is one thing, but two?”, Gareth agreed.

“Technically three”, Robin held up three fingers that Steve quickly slapped down.

Thankfully, their odd energy went unnoticed within the general unease of the crowd. Prince Stephen, Princess Robin, and Prince Edwin were unaccounted for. Steve swallowed.

“We should go.”

“Agreed”, Eddie said.

They actually grabbed a few things before returning to the camp, where Gareth promptly announced the news of the royal siblings’ disappearance. There was a confused murmur among them when a beta stood forward. Steve recalled his name was Greenley.

“We’re all thinking it, right? A prince and a princess missing? With a high reward?”

Eddie shook his head. “No.”

Robin froze and Steve bit his lip. “I also think no”, he said.

“That money could have us set for life!”

“Between us, we could find a couple of royals.”

“We got underground contacts!”

“No! NO!!”, Eddie roared, regaining control of the conversation. “Look, I know it’s tempting. But can’t take that risk. They’re probably spreading the message which means every bounty hunter from here to the shore is looking for them. Dangerous folk.”

“We’re supposed to be dangerous folk”, Gareth pointed out.

“If use two new ones get a vote, that’s three for no”, Robin pointed to herself, Steve, and Eddie.

Steve nodded. “So three to…”, he started to count in earnest.

“You’re still outvoted”, Greenley said. “And since this is a majority rule, not a monarchy”, he glared at Eddie challengingly.

“He’s right”, Jeff said.

Eddie sighed. “Shit….shit shit fuck shit shit fuck”, he started to pace around. “If this goes sideways-”

“We’ll be so rich things can go whatever direction they want”, Gareth said.

“Gre~at”, Robin gave a tight smile.

“Perfect”, Steve’s smile was equally strained.

Part 4

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #platonic stobin #omegaverse #a/b/o

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inthehouseoffinwe · 7 months ago

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Please if you have any good opinions on Turgon let me know because I currently can’t stand the guy and I do want to at least somewhat like him.

Edit: Sorry sorry! 1/3, not 2/3. I’ve corrected the post.

But anyway, can we talk about Turgon taking 1/3 of the Noldor to Gondolin.

Like I can find it in me to like or at least understand pretty much every Finwëan. But Turgon? That guy makes me furious. As do the Noldor who decided to follow him. Literally what was the point of coming to Beleriand if they were just going to hide away. They literally abandoned everyone to Morgoth.

‘But Ulmo told him to!’

Ok fine. I get it. Turgon (and Finrod) were still somewhat faithful and wanted to follow through. But to take that many people with you? To let so many people come with you, knowing your brother and father aren’t gonna know where you are and if anything suddenly goes wrong, you’re not gonna make it in time and its goodbye remaining family.

(Also imo the Valar have an admittedly not malicious, but bad habit of choosing those they think are the smartest, strongest, etc, and taking them away from the rest of their people, leaving the rest to suffer. Making small temporary paradises that statistically can’t last forever. I’m counting Numenor here. But that’s beside the point.)

Anyway I am fully of the opinion that if Turgon’s not so little sect had decided to stay and actually take part, the Bragollach would have gone very differently, leading to a potential victory in the Nirnaeth, despite the betrayals. The entire battle plan would’ve been different.

Like think about it right. 2/3 of the Noldor left fighting in Beleriand. Those are cut down pretty badly in the Bragollach to the point I’d say a good 50% of the Noldor now reside in Gondolin. That’s the force they have to make a fight plan for the Nirnaeth. Turgon did turn up but like. Do you get what I mean? When you have that many more fighters, the entire plan could’ve been changed, but I’m getting too far ahead. Let’s go back to the Bragollach.

I have this thing talking about Fingolfin’s last, desperate attempt at Morgoth. If his son, daughter, and granddaughter, and a large bulk of his people had been there to help, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have gone. Wouldn’t have felt the need to go. Aegnor and Angrod might not have been killed. The Feanorions would have been displaced still, but been able to reclaim some of their lands with more elves to fight back.

Because say what you will, they successfully coordinated a 400 year long siege on Angband with Fingolfin and co, and that’s a two way deal. They can clearly band together to take on a larger enemy. As you know, I’m also of the opinion Fingolfin genuinely loved his nephews even if he didn’t get along with their father.

You might be wondering ‘but what about Aredhel.’ I have generally mixed opinions, but don’t actively dislike her. The main thing is idk how many people followed her specifically, but I don’t think it was that many.

That said I do feel really bad for Fingon who’d lost Argon over the ice and now his remaining little siblings were gone who knows where, somewhere he couldn’t even help them if they needed it. I’m sorry you don’t just abandon siblings like that, especially in a situation which always has the potential to go suddenly wrong (as we see with the Bragollach.) This coming from a little sibling btw, maybe that’s why I have such strong feelings on this 😂

But I’ll make a Fingon specific post another time.

AS I SAID, please please if you have saving opinions on Turgon comment so I can like this dude. I haven’t read the Fall of Gondolin and generally don’t know a bunch about him, but our vibes ain’t vibing rn 💀

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mrsportgas · 7 months ago

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The Neightbor. Chapter 6

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

TAG LIST: @buggsclownie @commanderfreethatdust @nocturnalrorobin @candy1277 @bluetokie @heartsytune

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

"Come on, Y/N. You can do this," I told myself.

I opened my eyes and continued. My voice, though shaky at first, began to regain strength. Despite the uncertainty Shanks caused me, I focused on what truly mattered: my project. I pushed aside all doubts and carried on, each word firmer, each argument clearer. I could feel the eyes in the room return to me, and the audience refocused on what I was saying.

As I progressed, approving smiles began to appear among some of the investors. I knew I had captured their attention. My slides flowed smoothly, and my passion for the project came back to the forefront. By the end of the presentation, I even managed to get some of them to ask me questions, showing interest in technical details and future opportunities.

I finished with a smile, though my mind was still clouded by what had happened just minutes before. The applause snapped me out of my temporary daze, and I thanked them with a nod before leaving the stage.

As I walked backstage, I couldn't help but glance quickly at Shanks. He was still sitting in the VIP section, his eyes fixed on me. He gave me a slight smile, as if everything that had happened was part of his plan. My heart raced, still confused by his sudden appearance, but I was satisfied with how I had handled the situation.

I left the stage, and there was Nami, waiting for me with a bright smile.

"You were amazing!" she said, pulling me into a tight hug. "But seriously, what was that? Shanks? I had no idea he was coming to see you…"

"I don’t know," I responded, still trying to process everything. "Neither did I. But, Nami… he's sitting in the VIP section with the other investors. I have no idea what's going on."

"He never mentioned anything? That's odd…" Nami replied, still astonished. "Well, don’t let it intimidate you."

After Nami wrapped up her presentation brilliantly, despite all the confusion, we prepared for the next challenge: the social part. The investors began mingling, chatting among themselves, and the participants scattered around the room, some in groups, others waiting timidly for someone to approach them.

Beckman appeared by my side, a proud smile on his face, and gave me a light tap on the arm.

"Congratulations, Y/N. You did a great job out there. I knew you could pull it off," he said, his smile genuine.

"Thank you, Professor," I replied, still somewhat overwhelmed by everything happening around me.

Beckman leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

"Now comes the most important part, Y/N. The cocktail reception. This is where you can start building real connections. Don’t rush to approach the investors. Wait for them to come to you, and when they do, make sure to get their business cards. This is your moment to stand out."

I nodded, taking a deep breath as I tried to focus on his words. I knew he was right. Events like these required strategy. But I couldn’t shake the growing anxiety, not just about the investors, but about the imposing presence of Shanks, still lingering in my thoughts.

As we entered the adjoining room, the atmosphere completely shifted. The lights were softer, the vibe more relaxed, but there was still an air of formality. Trays of champagne floated through the attendees, while waiters offered delicate hors d'oeuvres. Beckman left me alone, knowing I needed to handle myself, and I took a moment to scan the room.

My eyes couldn’t help but search for Shanks among the crowd. And there he was, with his signature nonchalance, laughing and greeting people. His movements were smooth, as if he knew everyone for ages, and the investors seemed to listen to him with respect and curiosity. Yet, in between conversations, I felt his eyes on me. He watched me with an intensity that disarmed me, licking his lips provocatively, not caring if anyone else saw.

My breath hitched for a moment, and I felt a slight heat rising up my neck. What was he doing? Why was he acting like that in such a public setting? I tried to look away, but I couldn’t ignore the effect he had on me. As my mind wandered between confusion and attraction, something snapped me out of my trance.

"Y/N?" A deep voice gently interrupted me.

I turned and found myself face-to-face with a tall man, his gaze intense and his presence commanding. I didn’t have to think long to recognize him: it was Mihawk, one of the most prominent and respected CEOs in the business world. His reputation preceded him, and the fact that he was here, speaking to me, made me even more nervous.

"Hello, Mr. Mihawk," I responded with a polite smile, though my heart was still racing from what had just happened with Shanks.

Mihawk tilted his head slightly, as if acknowledging my nervousness but ignoring it out of courtesy.

"I heard about your project during the presentation," he said, his voice soft yet firm. "It’s interesting, especially the way you plan to integrate ecological solutions into such a competitive sector. There’s potential in that."

I felt a small surge of pride. If Mihawk was interested, it meant I had done something right.

"Thank you very much, sir. It’s something I’ve been working on for quite some time, and I believe it could make a difference," I replied, trying to keep my composure.

Mihawk nodded approvingly and, with a gesture, signaled a waiter to bring us some champagne.

"Allow me to offer you a drink," he said, taking a glass and handing me another. "Sometimes the best conversations happen over a bit of champagne."

I accepted the glass, and we both sat down at one of the small high tables in the back of the room.

I could feel Shanks’ gaze on me as Mihawk asked me questions, and though I tried to focus on the conversation, there was something unsettling about the way Shanks was watching us from across the room. Mihawk continued asking about my project, wanting to know more about the technical details and my implementation plan. While I was flattered by his interest, I couldn’t help but feel the growing tension in the air.

"So, Y/N, how do you plan to manage the initial funding for the pilot phase?" Mihawk asked, bringing the champagne to his lips, his evaluative gaze fixed on me.

I opened my mouth to answer, but at that exact moment, Shanks appeared out of nowhere.

"Well, well!" he exclaimed in his carefree tone, a lopsided smile on his face. "Looks like the lady has two big shots interested, huh?"

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting toward Shanks with a mix of surprise and distaste. He didn’t seem too impressed by the interruption.

"I didn’t know you were in the business of asking questions, Shanks," Mihawk responded, his tone calm but sharp. "This is a serious conversation, not one of your games."

Shanks let out a low chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he shot me a quick glance, his mischievous grin playing on his lips. He turned to Mihawk, maintaining that almost arrogant attitude.

"Oh, don’t worry, Mihawk. I can be pretty serious when I need to be," Shanks said, locking eyes with me for a brief second before returning his attention to the CEO. "After all, I’ve invested in some of the most successful companies of the past decade. I just came over to congratulate her on such an impressive presentation. Or does it bother you that someone else wants to join this conversation?"

I could feel the tension between them. The way Shanks acted, playful on the surface, but each word loaded with double meaning, trying to get under Mihawk’s skin. Meanwhile, Mihawk kept his composure, though his gaze had hardened. He turned back to me, ignoring Shanks for the moment.

"As I was saying, Y/N, I believe your approach is solid. I’m considering a collaboration if you’re interested, of course. Though you’ll need to surround yourself with serious people to move this forward," Mihawk said, throwing a quick, meaningful glance in Shanks’ direction.

Shanks didn’t miss a beat, flashing one of his most charming smiles. He leaned in a little closer, casually placing his hand on the back of my chair as if he was already part of the conversation.

"Serious people, sure…" he murmured, leaning slightly toward me, his voice low and flirtatious. "But tell me, Y/N, have you considered that maybe what your project needs isn’t just money, but vision? A different, innovative vision… like mine, of course."

Mihawk let out a slight sigh, clearly irritated by Shanks’ interruption, but he kept his composure as always.

"It doesn't surprise me that you try to disguise your games with fancy words, Shanks," Mihawk said coldly. "However, Y/N, what you really need are results, not empty promises. In fact, my boss is already quite interested in funding your project… whatever it takes," Mihawk continued, smoothly pulling out a business card and extending it to me. "You can call me when you're ready to have a serious conversation. At our company, we make sure our partners get the support they deserve."

I took the card, feeling the weight of his offer. Mihawk’s boss was a well-known name in the industry, a magnate with immense power, and having her backing would be a huge leap for my project. But before I could even process the offer, Shanks let out a low chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Interesting, Mihawk. Always formal and professional," Shanks commented as he leaned back casually in his chair, glancing at me sideways. "But what you didn’t mention is that my company is also very interested in what Y/N has to offer. Red Horizon isn’t exactly small, is it?" he added, with that mischievous smile that both disarmed and confused me. "Maybe we should let her decide… Or better yet, may the best man win."

Mihawk looked at him calmly, unfazed by Shanks' provocations. It was as if they were waging a silent battle, not just for the investment but for something more. The air between them was charged with competitive tension.

"The best man?" Mihawk repeated with an almost amused tone. "If you really believe you can offer more, Shanks, then by all means, let the best man win. Though I doubt your expertise lies in offering long-term stability. That’s what we do best."

Shanks raised an eyebrow, his grin widening.

"Oh, Mihawk, don’t underestimate what I can offer. Not everything is as rigid as you think. Sometimes, what a project really needs is a bit of… flexibility," he said with a cheeky wink in my direction, leaning in just enough for only me to notice.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. Both men, two titans of their respective worlds, were literally competing in front of me to invest in my project. Their subtle jabs, laden with tension and provocation, made my head spin. But I knew this was more than just business. There was something personal between them, and I was caught right in the middle.

Mihawk didn’t blink, his gaze as steady as ever.

"Flexibility is only useful when it doesn't compromise success," Mihawk responded sharply but calmly. "What Y/N needs is someone willing to invest for the long haul, someone who sees the future, not just the present. It’s not about who can impress the most, but who can make her project grow solidly and steadily."

Shanks chuckled softly, completely unfazed.

"Sure, sure. Stability. Very well, Mihawk, stick with what you know. But remember this… sometimes, for a project to grow and flourish, it needs more than just stability. It needs risk, and no one understands risk better than I do." His tone grew low, soft, but full of challenge. "So, Mihawk, may the best man win."

I felt the weight of his words, and as both men looked at me, waiting for my response, I realized my decision wasn’t going to be easy. There was a lot at stake—not just my project but also the dynamic between the two of them, a rivalry that seemed to have begun long before tonight.

"I’ll think about it," I said, trying to stay calm and keep my voice steady, though inside, I was in complete turmoil. "Thank you, Mr. Mihawk."

Shanks smiled widely, as if he had expected that response.

"Of course you will, darling. Take your time," he said, his gaze sparkling once more before giving Mihawk one last challenging look.

Mihawk, as always, remained unfazed.

"When you're ready, we’ll gladly take your call. Enjoy your evening," he said firmly, casting a final glance at Shanks before standing up and disappearing into the crowd of investors.

Mihawk walked away with his usual elegant and composed demeanor, leaving me alone with Shanks, whose face was still lit up with that confident smile. I knew he wasn’t going to leave me alone so easily. As if reading my thoughts, he leaned closer to me, much more intimately than I expected, gently taking my hand in his.

"Congratulations, Y/N," he murmured softly, his voice warm, almost as if he were trying to soothe me. "You did an incredible job out there. I knew you had potential from day one."

I felt a slight tremble in my hand, and the warmth of his touch started to spread up my arm. But something inside me wasn’t right. The anger I had tried to suppress since seeing him in the VIP room began to bubble up inside me, threatening to explode. I pulled my hand away abruptly, feeling the fury rise within me.

"From day one?" I repeated, my voice full of disbelief as I looked directly into his eyes. "You mean to tell me you knew about this project from the beginning? The competition, the investors? Has all of this just been a game to you?"

Shanks blinked, surprised by my reaction, but that arrogant smile never fully disappeared. He maintained his composure, though I could see in his eyes that he hadn’t expected me to confront him like this.

"Y/N, calm down…" he began, his tone soothing, but that only made me angrier.

"Calm down?" I interrupted, stepping toward him, feeling the fury burn in my throat. "I can't believe this whole time you've just been playing games! What was this? Did you approach me just to make sure I chose your company? Has everything that’s happened between us just been a strategy to get what you wanted?"

Shanks let out a low sigh, his expression losing some of its usual carefree charm. He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to find the right words.

"It’s not that simple, Y/N. It’s not just about the project…" he began, but I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so easily.

"Oh, really?" I asked sarcastically, crossing my arms. "Then why didn’t you tell me the truth from the start? Why pretend all this time? You can’t just show up out of nowhere, seduce me, make me feel things… all to secure your spot as an investor."

He stepped closer but didn’t try to touch me this time. His eyes, for the first time, seemed to lose that arrogant glint. There was something else in his expression—a mix of frustration and regret—but I wasn’t about to let myself be fooled again.

"Listen, Y/N," he said, his voice softer but firm. "Yes, I knew about the project—of course I did. Did you ever stop to read the card I gave you?"

Damn. The truth was, I hadn’t paid much attention to that card. I had just skimmed it to find his number.

Shanks reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a new card. There it was—the CEO of Red Horizon.

I froze. The confusion mingled with my anger, and I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

"This complicates everything," I said, my voice trembling a little.

Just as Shanks was about to speak, a familiar figure approached from the back of the room.

"Shanks!" Beckman exclaimed, a relaxed smile on his face, as if they were old friends. He walked up to us and gave Shanks a light tap on the arm, to which Shanks responded with an equally carefree smile.

"Beckman, old friend," Shanks replied, as if the tension from moments before had never existed.

"You know, always looking out for new talent," Beckman answered, his gaze briefly shifting toward me before returning to Shanks. "But I don’t want to interrupt. I just came to steal Y/N for a moment."

Before I could say anything, Beckman looked directly at me, his smile polite but with a glint in his eyes that made it clear he wouldn’t take "no" for an answer.

"If you’ll excuse me, Shanks," Beckman said, his tone polite but firm, "I need to talk to Y/N for a moment. You know, important matters."

Shanks nodded, but not without throwing me an intense look before stepping back slightly.

"Don’t worry, Beckman. I’ll be around; we’ll talk later," Shanks said in a casual tone.

As Beckman guided me out of Shanks’ reach, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and confusion. What did Beckman want to tell me?

We moved far enough away to be out of earshot and prying eyes, in a quieter corner of the room. Beckman turned to me, his expression much more serious than usual.

"Alright, Y/N," he started, cutting straight to the point. "Any investors catching your eye?"

I felt my heart race. I wasn’t prepared for that question, not after everything that had just happened with Shanks.

"Well… I haven’t made a decision yet," I replied, trying to sound casual, though I knew Beckman wasn’t easy to fool.

Beckman gave me that scrutinizing look that always made me nervous. I knew he wasn’t going to let me dodge the question.

"Look, Y/N, I’m telling you this as someone who wants the best for you," he said, lowering his voice a little. "Be careful with Shanks. He’s not just another investor, and definitely not someone you should take lightly."

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but my heart was beating faster. Beckman knew something.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

Beckman looked at me in a way that made it clear I wasn’t fooling him.

"I know more than you think, Y/N. Yesterday, I saw you get into Shanks’ car. Was that also part of your investor evaluation?" he said, his tone serious but with a slight hint of sarcasm.

A chill ran down my spine at his words. Had he seen me? My mind began to replay the events of the previous day.

"Beckman… I…" I quickly replied, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "He just offered me a ride home. He’s my neighbor, nothing more."

Beckman narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced.

"I know I’m not your father, Y/N, but you’ve worked too hard to get where you are. Shanks doesn’t do anything without a reason. And I can assure you, he’s not here just to congratulate you on your talent."

The seriousness in his tone made a knot form in my stomach. Beckman had always been a mentor to me, someone I trusted, and if he was warning me about Shanks, there had to be something more I didn’t know.

"I’m just asking you to be careful, Y/N. If you’re going to choose someone, make sure it’s because you trust them as an investor, not because they’ve made you feel something else. This is your career, your future," Beckman said, his voice softer now, but with unwavering firmness.

I nodded slowly, though my mind was still in turmoil. There were so many questions swirling in my head, and as I stood there with Beckman, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Shanks had said earlier. Was what we had really more than just business? Or… was he using his charm to make sure I picked him?

"Thank you," I finally said, though I still felt trapped in a whirlwind of emotions.

"Come over for lunch on Sunday. I want to introduce you to my wife," Beckman replied, giving me a light pat on the shoulder. "I’ll send you all the details by message."

"Alright, professor, I’ll be there," I replied, still feeling dizzy from everything that had happened.

The air inside the room felt stifling. All the noise, the conversations, the laughter… it was too much to process. My mind was overwhelmed by the events of the night—the tension between Mihawk and Shanks, Beckman’s warnings, and now, the weight of my own confusion. I needed air. Without thinking twice, I headed for the exit, seeking the relief of the quiet outside.

I reached the parking lot, the cool air hitting my face, but it wasn’t enough to calm the storm inside me. I leaned against one of the cars, closing my eyes and trying to take deep breaths. Everything I had built—my project, my career—seemed on the verge of collapsing over something I didn’t fully understand. Why was Shanks playing with my emotions? Had it all been a strategy from the start?

Just as I began to feel a bit of relief, I heard footsteps behind me. I knew who it was before I even turned around.

"Don’t you think it’s enough for one night?" I said, without looking at him, my voice filled with frustration.

Shanks didn’t respond immediately. I could feel his presence getting closer, but I didn’t move.

"Pretty, I…," his voice was soft, with no trace of his usual confidence. "I just want to talk."

I turned sharply to face him, my heart racing from a mix of anger and discomfort.

"Talk? Talk about what, Shanks?" I exclaimed, unable to hold back. "About how you've played with me? How you've hidden everything from me? From the very first day, you knew you'd be here, with Mihawk, competing for my project! You made me believe you were interested in me, in what I was building, but it’s all been a strategy to make sure I choose you!"

"It’s not like that, Y/N. I’m not using you. What I feel for you has nothing to do with the project, and you know it," he said, stepping closer, but I took a step back, still too overwhelmed to think clearly.

"Then explain it to me!" I shouted, feeling tears threatening to spill. "You knew from the start and said nothing. I don’t know what to trust anymore, not in you or in any of this."

Shanks took another step closer, his expression softening as he tried to calm me.

"Listen, Y/N," he said tenderly. "Tomorrow, we can talk about everything, clear up any doubts you have. I just ask that you trust me for one night. There's nothing I want more than to do this right with you."

His tone was different this time—vulnerable. Something in his gaze unsettled me. Shanks, always so confident and bold, now seemed to be showing me a side of himself that he rarely let anyone see. I stood still, trying to process what he was saying, but the confusion and anger still bubbled inside me.

"I can’t trust you, Shanks. Not after all of this," I whispered, feeling the pressure in my chest intensify.

But he didn’t stop. He took another step, and this time, I didn’t move away. Instead of saying anything more, Shanks just pulled me into a hug. I felt his arms wrap around me with a warmth and tenderness I hadn’t expected. I wanted to resist, to push him away, but my body was already responding differently. Slowly, my breathing calmed, though my mind was still a storm of doubt.

"Just relax, I only want you to feel okay," he murmured against my hair. "I’m sorry if I’ve made you doubt."

His embrace was firm but gentle, and though my mind told me I should pull away, my body remained still in his arms, seeking a reprieve from the confusion. Shanks gently pulled me away from him, his hands resting on my shoulders, looking into my eyes with an intensity that sent a shiver through me. With a soft movement, he brought one hand to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"Enjoy the night," he whispered, his voice soft but laden with intent. "Tomorrow, we’ll talk about whatever you want. You’re not just a game, and our relationship isn’t about work, and you know that."

My lips parted to say something, but Shanks didn’t give me time. He leaned in and kissed me, slowly, as if he was trying to redeem himself with every movement. It was a tender kiss. I felt the warmth rise in my body, and though my mind was still screaming that I shouldn’t give in, my lips responded instinctively, returning the kiss with a mix of need and confusion.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, and in that moment, I didn’t know what to think. My heart was pounding, not just from the attraction I’d always felt for him, but from everything that kiss represented.

"We’ll talk about everything, I promise," he whispered. "But tonight, just trust me."

Everything was spinning around me, but I had to push my emotions aside for tonight—I couldn’t let this opportunity and everything I’d worked for go to waste.

"Okay, I need to focus on tonight. Let’s go back to the hall," I said, still unsure of how to handle everything that was happening.

Shanks and I returned to the cocktail party, though the intensity of the moment still pulsed in my chest. I tried to recompose myself emotionally, but the kiss we’d shared and his words still had me unsettled. I tried to maintain my composure as the murmur of the event filled the air, with the soft lights and the hum of conversations around us.

As soon as we were back, several investors approached, congratulating me or asking more technical questions about my project. I felt the weight of their attention on me, forcing me to focus on my answers, though Shanks’ presence lingered in the back of my mind. I dove into the conversations, explaining the details of the project, the plans for implementation, and the challenges we had already anticipated.

"Impressive, really," commented one of the investors, nodding with an approving smile.

But as I spoke, my eyes drifted distractedly across the room, as if something inside me was instinctively searching for Shanks. And there he was. I saw him in a corner, talking to one of the businesswomen. They were chatting animatedly, but what really caught my attention was the way he was looking at her. That same flirty smile and spark in his eyes that I knew all too well, the same one that had started everything between us. The businesswoman laughed, clearly flattered by his attention, leaning in a little closer to him.

I felt something twist inside me. A knot of annoyance and jealousy that I hadn’t expected. It was as if, after everything we’d just been through, everything he had just told me, Shanks was still playing his games, unchanged. My mind began to race, fueled by the mix of emotions I had been holding back all night.

One of the investors asked me another question, but I barely registered it. I nodded vaguely, trying to stay engaged, but my mind was divided.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was just being polite with the businesswoman… but the way she smiled, the way he looked at her, reminded me exactly of how things had started between us. That bold flirtation, that effortless charm that seemed to enchant everyone.

As the investors continued to talk, my gaze kept drifting back to them, noticing how they leaned in closer to each other, their soft laughter barely audible from where I stood, but enough to irritate me even more.

"Excuse me. Just a moment," I said quickly, forcing a smile before walking toward a quieter area.

I leaned against one of the nearby columns, trying to calm the frustration and disappointment building inside me. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. After everything Shanks had told me, how could he act like this so blatantly? And worse, why did I care so much?

I glanced back at them once more, noticing how she lightly touched his arm as they spoke. Shanks didn’t do anything to stop her, and that only made my jealousy intensify.

I felt betrayed, confused, and worst of all, furious with myself for letting something so insignificant affect me so much. With one last quick look at them, I headed to the bathroom, trying to ignore the thoughts swirling in my head. I passed by the elegant gold-framed mirrors that adorned the event’s hallway, my mind still entangled in the scene I had left behind.

When I entered the bathroom, I took a second in front of the mirror, letting out a long sigh as I looked at myself. Why is this affecting me so much? I thought. Why, after everything that had happened tonight, did I still care what Shanks was doing with someone else?

While I was lost in thought, the bathroom door opened, and to my surprise, the businesswoman who had been talking to Shanks walked in. She wore an elegant dress, her hair perfectly styled, and her face reflected a confidence that unsettled me. Our eyes met in the mirror, and for a second, a spark of recognition flickered in her eyes.

"Oh, it’s you," she said, her voice soft but with a clear note of smugness as she approached the vanity, fixing a strand of her hair in the mirror. "I saw you talking with Shanks earlier. I didn’t know you knew him."

I just nodded, not wanting to prolong the conversation, but clearly, she wasn’t done.

"He’s really handsome, isn’t he?" she added, her tone more pointed as she applied a bit of lipstick. Her eyes drifted toward me, a somewhat malicious smile on her face. "He’s the kind of man who draws all the attention in the room. Although… it seems he’s quite interested in me tonight."

My heart sank. The way she spoke was irritating, as if she was trying to brag about something I hadn’t asked to know. The way she said it, the clear intention of making me feel insecure… it was enough to make my blood boil. But I kept my cool. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.

"Really?" I responded indifferently, crossing my arms. "Well, Shanks seems like the type of man who doesn’t stay in one place for long."

She glanced at me sideways, her smile didn’t fade, but her eyes narrowed slightly. She was realizing that I wasn’t going to fall for her little game easily.

"Well, darling, don’t get your hopes up too high," she said sweetly, taking a step toward me. "Men like him are always looking for someone at their level," she said while crossing her arms and sizing me up. "You know? I’ve seen you with Shanks. Interesting, really."

Her tone was venomous, and though I knew she was just trying to make me feel insecure, I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of anger. However, I tried to remain calm.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I replied, my voice firmer than I felt.

"Oh, please," she laughed, stepping closer to me. "I know exactly what I’m talking about. Shanks is charming, isn’t he? That carefree attitude, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room. Believe me, I know him too well. But here’s a tip, dear: don’t get your hopes up. He’s a businessman, and he always has a plan. If you think you’re special, I’m sorry, but you’re not."

Her words hit me hard, but just as I was about to respond, the bathroom door swung open, and Nami walked in, with a determined expression on her face.

"Y/N! There you are, I’ve been looking for you," she exclaimed, walking toward me while completely ignoring the businesswoman. She stood beside me with a calm smile, but clearly protective. "Is everything okay here?"

The woman straightened up, casting a quick glance between Nami and me. It was obvious she hadn’t expected someone like Nami to step into the equation.

"Everything’s perfect," she responded with a sharp smile, though her tone didn’t match her words. "We were just having a little chat."

Nami smiled sweetly, though the tension in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Great," she replied, her tone casual but with an undertone only someone as shrewd as Nami could deliver. "Although it seems like it’s over now, right, Y/N?"

The businesswoman hesitated for a moment but quickly composed herself, with a malicious glint in her eyes.

"Of course. See you in the hall," she said with a superficial smile, turning to leave the bathroom without another word.

When she left, I felt the air return to my lungs. The tension I had been holding in my shoulders began to dissipate, though I was still a bit shaken.

Of course! Here's the translation back into English:

"Nami…" I whispered as we left the bathroom, my voice trembling slightly. "I really need to get out of here. Go home… I can't take this anymore."

Nami looked at me with compassion, and without hesitation, she put a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down.

"Take it easy," she said softly, "let's go home, it's for the best. You've done enough tonight."

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. I didn’t want to stay at that party any longer, with this whirlwind of emotions. The atmosphere had become unbearable, and the idea of seeing Shanks flirting with others after everything that had happened was more than I could handle. We walked together toward the exit, passing groups of investors who were still chatting animatedly.

As we said goodbye to our directors and a few investors, I felt eyes on my back. I turned around, and just as I expected, there was Shanks, watching me with that look that always managed to unsettle me. I didn’t say anything; we just exchanged a brief glance before I quickly looked away, focusing on getting out of there.

Nami and I finally got to the car and climbed in, grateful to leave the noise of the party behind. The ride was quiet, but comforting. Nami knew when to talk and when not to, and at that moment, I appreciated her giving me the space I needed to process everything that had happened.

When we arrived at my apartment, I was just unlocking the door when I heard the unmistakable sound of a car approaching quickly. I paused, glancing around, and then I saw it: Shanks' car pulling up swiftly beside us. My heart skipped a beat.

"Oh God," I murmured, more to myself than to Nami.

Before I could react, Shanks had already gotten out of the car and was walking toward me quickly. He looked determined, and his eyes were locked on me. Nami, always protective, stepped forward, positioning herself between him and me.

"What do you think you're doing, Shanks?" Nami said, her tone firm and full of authority. "Leave her alone."

"I don't want any trouble," Shanks responded, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "I just need to talk to her, for a moment. Please, Nami."

The tension was thick in the air, and although I didn’t want to talk to him at that moment, something about his persistence, the way he was looking at me, made me hesitate. Nami glanced at me, waiting for me to make a decision.

"It's okay, Nami," I sighed eventually.

Nami frowned, clearly not convinced, but slowly nodded.

"If you need anything, just call me. I’ll be inside," she said before heading toward the door. "This is your last chance, Shanks."

The silence between Shanks and me was heavy for a moment. I crossed my arms, unsure of what to say. He took a step closer to me, his expression softer than it had been all night.

"Thank you for listening, Y/N," he began, his tone calm. "I know you're upset, and you have every right to be. What happened today was… confusing. Can we see each other tomorrow? Come over for dinner, I want to do something special for you."

"Shanks, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…" I started, trying to remain firm.

NEXT CHAPTER

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cod-dump · 1 year ago

Text

Welcome Home (teen!ghost au)

———

Simon knew something was up. John was talking on the phone a lot with Mrs. Laswell and he kept looking at the spare bedroom. It was two little things, really, but it sparked a memory. Something he did before he sat down Simon about opening their home to another boy, Kyle.

Simon couldn’t be certain that’s what was happening. He was too nervous to ask, wasn’t sure what assuming such a thing would do. So he kept quiet, just watching his father closely. He didn’t say anything to Kyle. He didn’t notice, didn’t care, so why say something? There wasn’t anything determining it… that they could be getting a new sibling. At least a temporary one.

“What’s with the face?”

Simon blinked, refocusing on his homework before he looked up at Kyle who was sitting across from him.

“What?”

“You’re thinking hard… is it the algebra?”

Simon huffs, “Numbers and letters don’t belong together.”

“How dare you try to keep them apart.”

Simon snorts, Kyle setting his pen aside to stretch. Nik was lurking outside, Simon could see him leaning on his SUV through the window. He’s also been on the phone a lot…

“You’re making that face again…”

Simon shakes his head, putting his pen down and getting out of his chair, “Too many numbers. I need a break.”

Kyle stared at him concerned, Simon choosing to ignore him as he left the kitchen. He chose to step outside, taking a breath of the cool evening air before he sat down on the steps of the porch. The season was changing, everything cooling down and the leaves changing color. Simon loved this time of year.

“Homework getting your ass?”

“I haven’t admitted defeat yet.”

Nik chuckles before he walks over and sits next to him, groaning as he does. Simon wanted to ask, wanted to know if what he thought was happening was in fact happening. Nik would know, he knew all kinds of things, but he liked messing around and may not even tell Simon anything remotely useful. So he didn’t ask and just relaxed outside for a bit before he went back inside to finish his homework. A few days would pass without Simon thinking much on his father and Nik’s behavior.

Then him and Kyle would be sat down in the kitchen to talk.

“Boys, you remember Farah, right?”

Simon’s heart picked up hearing her name.

“Remember- Dad, she visited us for Christmas last year!”

John smiles, “How could I forget.”

“Haven’t really heard from her since February, though… Is she okay?”

Simon loved Farah. She was a couple years older than him and was basically his sister by this point. She had lived in the neighborhood since Simon was taken in by John but she ended up moving shortly after Kyle was adopted. She was his best friend before he met Ale and the Los Vaqueros. They somewhat kept in touch but the texts came by fewer and fewer to the point they were basically just them reminding each other that they’re alive.

“She’s been… having issues at home…”

Simon clenched his fists, swallowing. She was never very open about her home life and her family always appeared picture perfect. He chalked up any thoughts that he had about something going on to just him overthinking…

“How would you two feel about her staying with us for awhile?”

They both of course were more than fine with her staying. Simon immediately offered to help clean up the spare bedroom, he wanted everything to be welcoming for Farah.

“Just move the stuff in there to the garage, alright? We’ll deal with it later.”

Simon wasn’t sure what was going on and he was content with probably never getting the full story of what was going on while Farah stayed with them. Simon grabbed Kyle and took him with him to help set up the spare bedroom. He knew that getting it ready quicker didn’t mean Fran was going to get here sooner, but he was excited.

Kyle was teasing him for practically sitting at the door waiting for Nik and John to come back with Farah. Simon just glared at him while he texted Johnny. He had told him basically everything about what was happening and it turns out Kyle was doing the same. He was pretty much a part of this even though he has been at his gran’s house for the past week.

“We should have a group chat.”

Simon turned and looked at Kyle who was also on his phone, “What?”

“A group chat with Johnny… though I don’t want to see you two role play or whatever-“

Kyle was pelted in the face by one of the couch pillows. Simon was immediately smacked in the face with the same pillow before Kyle lunged at him. They were quick to end up on the floor considering they had already wrecked one couch (the silence that surrounded their father was something they would like to not experience again). So they were on the floor, Kyle trying to overpower and pin Simon while Simon was trying to pry him off of him. Normally there was someone to referee but—

The sound of a car door shutting gave Simon a boost of strength which allowed him to shove Kyle off of him. Kyle was sprawled on the floor as Simon ran to the door and peeked out the window next to it. The moment he saw Farah he swung the door open and ran out. The girl had a solid ten seconds to notice Simon after he shouted her name before he all but tackled her into a fierce hug. She instinctively hugged him back, squeezing his shoulders with an equal amount of desperation. it’s been so long since they had last seen each other and they were both afraid the other would disappear the moment they parted.

“Si, stop suffocating the girl and help get her things!” There was amusement in his dad’s voice, an undeniable fondness.

Simon gave an extra squeeze before he set Farah down, noticing the drying tear tracks as he steps away from her. He noted it before he ran to the back of the SUV to grab a box. His eagerness made Nik laugh and remind him to be careful. Kyle came out to greet Farah, them sharing a less emotional hug and something more casual and definitely awkward. Farah had always been Ghost’s friend that Kyle somewhat knew, he hoped that didn’t stir anything up while she was staying with them.

They had piled everything into the spare, now Farah’s, bedroom. Simon had so much to say, so much to ask, but he could tell Farah was drained. There was this look in her eye, something Simon had once when he was first picked up by Mrs. Laswell taken in by John. It went away with time, so he hopes Farah would come around to being her old self again.

“I need to wash some clothes… and make my bed… Fuck, I need a nap,” Farah took the shirt she fished out of a box and threw it at the growing pile near the closet.

“I can do your laundry while you nap.”

Farah sighed, “You don’t have to, Si. Your dad is already doing so much by picking me up and letting me stay here.”

“Hey, he’s doing it because he wants to. And I want to do your laundry so you can take a nap. You need it.”

Farah gave him a glare with no heat behind it, “You saying I look bad?”

“You look tired.”

Farah huffs and leans against Simon, slumping her full weight against him, “I am… can you do the laundry later?”

“Why not now?”

“I… I don’t want to be alone…”

Oh. Simon frowned, the urge to do something to comfort Farah making his hands twitch. He wasn’t sure what she’s been through and he wasn’t going to ask. So he decided to sit with Farah as she napped, her hand gripping his shirt as she fell asleep.

#teen!ghost au #call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #cod nikolai #farah karim #Drabble #ficlet #fic #dad price #dad john price #adopted au

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 1 month ago

Note

(i just finished twatytk after reading it for like a week straight, i'm fine😩)

Oooooooo👀👀👀

🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

-💋

THANKS! But also sorry damn that's so many words.

Excited to share these two new ones!

48 for 🤏🏻:

---

They’ve talked about this before. It’s not like this is the first time Eddie has complained about it. Buck knows all about how Eddie feels about shit with his parents. But maybe this is the first time Eddie has called Buck about it with such obvious grief in his voice.

“It’s not their choice, right?” Buck asks. “He’s your kid. It’s between you and him.”

“If only,” Eddie grumbles.

“No, seriously. I mean, what can they do? If Chris decides he wants to be with you, then it isn’t their choice. They don’t have custody. They have no real grounds to sue for custody. You’re not an unsafe father.”

Something about the way Buck says that, like it’s so certain, makes Eddie’s whole body ache. It doesn’t matter, he wants to scream. That’s not what actually matters here, because that’s not the story being told.

“What if they’re right?” He whispers.

“Sorry, what?” Buck asks. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath.

“What if they win?”

“They won’t,” Buck says. “I just… I just know it, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie sighs. “Thanks.”

Sometimes he just needs to hear that. Even if it’s just Buck’s personal delusion.

They end the call soon after that and Eddie pulls into his own driveway. He sits for a moment in the driver’s seat of the truck, not yet ready to go inside. Like the picture of the TV dad, sitting in the driveway to avoid the wife and kids inside; the chaos, after a long day of work. Except it’s the opposite. Eddie would give anything for a little chaos in there. He’s sitting out here, avoiding the quiet. Avoiding the stillness. It’s the kind of nothingness that feels lethal.

Eventually, he sighs, rubs his face, and gets out of the truck. He walks up the front steps to the house and unlocks the door. He turns on the light in the front entryway. The house is exactly like he left it. Because he is the only ghost that resides here.

“At least it never gets messy,” he grumbles to himself.

“What never gets messy?”

Eddie jumps and yelps.

“Who the fuck…” He gasps, looking wildly around the house for the source of the strange and unexpected voice.

---

48 for 🍎:

---

Notes on branded stationary with no real feeling.

But he’s trying to let that go. He knows resentment isn’t good for his own healing, his own sobriety. So he’s doing the right thing. He’s here. He just hopes the temporary peace they’ve found has settled, somewhat, before she dies. He hopes it gets to be the last thing between them.

“What will you do?” Bobby asks that afternoon, out of the blue.

Charlie pauses before taking another bite of his sandwich and turns to look at Bobby.

“What will I do, when?” He asks.

“After,” Bobby says. That’s all that really needs saying.

“Oh,” Charlie exhales.

Maybe it’s a callous question, but it’s not an unfair one. Charlie has built his whole life around Ann. He’s let their dynamic ruin marriages. Plural. What will he be when she’s gone? Bobby worries for him, honestly. And that worry is another thing tiring him lately.

“Sorry,” Bobby murmurs.

“No, that’s a fair question,” Charlie says. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to avoid thinking about it, honestly.”

Bobby nods. He understands that instinct.

“I don’t think I’m cut out to keep up her legacy,” Charlie chuckles.

“Not many would be,” Bobby offers.

“Very true,” Charlie agrees. “I don’t know, though. I don’t think I’d want to go back to Minnesota.”

Bobby nods. “Yeah. Not the easiest place to be.”

“No,” Charlie says. “It’s not.”

“You never had any kids,” Bobby says.

Charlie shakes his head. “Didn’t have the lifestyle for it.”

“Right,” Bobby nods. “So you and I… We’ll be the only relations the other has left.’

“I guess that’s true,” Charlie agrees. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” Bobby asks.

#daisies and briars writes #i want your flowers fic #for all the love you've left behind fic

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cloveroctobers · 4 months ago

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DANTE TORRES | FOLDER TWO: SLIPPIN’

A/N: Not me keeping a story going! Is this going to give, *Sidney’s voice*, “Don’t f-ck with the original!” Or what? I haven’t done chapters or books since my wattpad era 🤭 Guess you have Dante to thank for that! If you’re just tuning in, hope you’re somewhere comfy and you can start here.

S/N: premiere night gave what it needed to give! I’m enjoying learning more about Kiana, she’s cool in my book! I’m most interested in seeing the one Chicago crossover episode—which may or may not inspire some more content…who knows as of right now? I also originally had no plans of writing something new until February but consider this a new year’s gift? 🩵

WARNINGS: Doing what I do best! delivering angst, lots of dialogue in this one, kinda lengthy, most likely language, talks of health risk, revisiting the past, and some reconciliation?

<- need a refresher? Read the previous piece here.

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Seraphina stands in front of the window, fingertips kept warm with a cup of tea as she zoned out on the view of Kansas City. A town that just felt temporary, a place where she would solely be a visitor passing through without leaving any marks behind. It’s been six months since she decided to take a leap and move to Jersey City to begin again. Unbeknownst to her she wouldn’t realize that her time elsewhere would possibly be short lived, receiving a disturbing call that brought her back to the Midwest.

She feels her phone buzz in her back pocket, breaking her out of her gaze from the pelts of rain that flicked against the glass. Blinking Seraphina pulls her phone to see a text from Manny, checking where she’s at and if she’s okay, which lets her know that she’s been on her walk for a while now. The woman lets out a soft exhale, quickly typing out a reply that she’s on her way back now. Yet she stands at the window for a minute longer, dreading the fact that she’s even here and that this will be another mountain to climb.

Sipping at the herbal tea, which warms her, she takes that as a step of courage before she turns, somewhat prepared to continue to get through this and of course be supportive to the man who always had a interesting way to teach her about love.

If one could call it that.

There’s a heat that appears in her throat at the thought that isn’t granted from the tea but she fights against it. Seraphina is aware that now isn’t the time to be selfish about the past, since she’s come a long way in this relationship. Once her eyes lift and connect with familar spring green’s, her breathing gets caught in her throat at the sight of the man.

She speaks first, “Dante?”

They’re both frozen in place in the eerie hallway, his hands are in his pockets and he almost appears like a deer in headlights, removing one hand from his pocket to rub at the back of his neck but manages to breathe out, “Hey, Nina.”

It’s that normal quiet tone of his voice that almost feels like a whisper, which somehow makes her feel like all will be fine against the sudden chill that whips from the back of Seraphina’s frame. Dante can see her shudder, whether it’s from his presence or the mere fact that she’s here in a hospital, he’s not quite sure.

He’s the first to move and Seraphina allows him to come to her. He still gives her some space but he’s close enough to see that her hair is different, much different, shorter and a light brown—almost caramel—compared to her usual dark hair, that she stopped letting grow too long awhile ago, becoming tired of having to tend to so much hair especially working as a chemist. Dante can also see beneath her beauty that there’s worry right in between her brows, she’s always had the best poker face but he can only imagine what she’s holding onto when no one’s watching.

“You changed your hair,” Dante points out, a small smile playing on his lips as he attempts to keep things light.

Seraphina begins to breathe normally, “I did. You like it?”

She’s not sure why she’s asking, she’s never been one to dwell on anyone’s opinions on what she did—except for her father and her old best friend.

The ones that seemed to matter the most.

Dante’s nodding, his eyes moved from her new hair to her face, “It suits you well.”

“Thank you,” she dips her head playing with the lid of the cup, making Dante quickly run his eyes over her fingers, purposely ignoring her nails on a particular hand, yet still wondered what else might have changed in these agonizing months before she tosses in, “…Got any new tattoos I need to know about?”

He laughs a little as he teases, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The brings a smile to her face as she shrugs her shoulders but says nothing more. They would meet each other’s eyes again before one chose to break it and stare over the other’s shoulder instead. It was tense being face to face after all this time but the two have been through enough storms together to weather it.

“So what brings you to Kansas City?” Seraphina questions, assuming that it must be a case.

Dante moves his hands back into his pockets, “I um…your mom called my ma and told her what’s happening. My ma said a prayer for her—not just her but your family. Then she told me.”

Her throat feels thick at the new information. She hasn’t spoken to Dante at all since she got everything set up in Jersey City before taking her official leave. He was in denial that she actually wanted to leave until he started noticing moving trucks and boxes some time later. After Seraphina found out about the passing of Gloria, she decided that letting go of their friendship might be their best option to move forward in life, they went almost two weeks without speaking after their debate in her bedroom but Dante cracked first.

He apologized and begged her to stay, to not leave him but once Seraphina’s mind was made up, it was almost impossible to change it. Dante had to accept it and it added another mountain of grief he had to deal with on his own. He would call and text just not to receive any response, only to learn that Seraphina was still talking to his mother every so often, which definitely made him want to crash out multiple times.

That was a difficult time and he learned what space really means and from the one person that he never wanted out of his life, was a tough one to swallow. And now he was here.

“You drove all this way for—

“You.” Dante’s response is instant and it makes Seraphina let out a deep breath, “I’m sorry if I’m doing too much but I figured through all of this…you would want someone else here in your corner.”

Dante and Seraphina’s father never had the best relationship. Sure the pair became friends at a young age which was once full of playfulness, bright futures, and adventure before it all quickly changed for the worst. Mr. Coty was big on image and believes that who you surround yourself with said a lot about you and once he realized what Dante’s stepfather was like, he only assumed the worst for Dante. Instead of providing guidance, he brought on preconceived notions of what Dante could be.

He started acting different towards the young boy and once Dante started getting involved with that gang, Seraphina brought home those pills, and Dante beat his step-father so bad that his injuries were unspeakable, Mr. Coty began to despise a young Dante Torres. Years later Dante was here while the older man was at a high risk of declining but Dante could honestly say he wasn’t really here for him—but he would keep that to himself.

“…just tell me what you need from me?” He says after his old friend most likely has so much on her mind that she may not know what to say.

Seraphina’s eyes shine with a number of emotions, for one Dante was here after she went completely cold turkey on him. She set a boundary yet at the same time she still had a piece of him because she didn’t feel right completely cutting momma Catalina off as well. After all Dante had the woman’s first name, “Laura,” tatted on his forearm as a means of always having her near. He wanted to be angry and maybe he was that his mother still had Seraphina around and he was out of luck. Momma Catalina would push just a little until Seraphina had to be firm with her decision to her second mother figure. If you asked Seraphina six months ago what she needed from Dante, her answer would be much different.

Her dark eyes meet his and she finds that he still cares. It was heart warming to witness, honorable even and she wouldn’t forget it. He showed up for her when he didn’t have to and that meant something.

The doors behind Dante flap open, revealing a bearded Manny who looks up from his phone, doing a double take himself. Seraphina catches his questionable eyes first, making Dante the last to peer over his shoulder. Manny gives a single wave but it’s not a beaming smile attached to the usual expression where his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Dante honestly didn’t think the guy would still be in the picture. He did his best to keep his attention on his cases but he couldn’t help but to crack every now and then to get any bit of information he could on Seraphina’s new life now. He already knew that Seán, the still going strong engaged lawyer and good friend of Seraphina’s was now collecting the rent on her property for her so she wouldn’t have to constantly make trips back to Chicago. Dante only wondered if they were on better terms, if he would have been the one tasked with this instead.

There were a bunch of what if’s circulating and it only amplified now, seeing Manny Castillo being here for his Nina instead. Seraphina watched Dante’s jaw tighten at the sight of Manny before he turned back to face her. His eyes quickly shifted back to over her shoulder, rubbing at his jaw in irritation.

A pang of jealousy swirls within his frame because it felt like he was replaced.

“Hey,” Seraphina gently says making his heated stare meet her’s but it softens some, “Thanks for coming when you didn’t have to. It means more than you know, Tay.”

Dante gives a sharp nod.

The short haired woman takes another breath. Something she’s been doing a lot more since she’s been back in the Midwest. Seraphina closes the space between the two, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and wrapping one arm over his shoulder, waiting for him to hug her back. The tension seems to erase with Seraphina pressed against him, his hands go right to the small of her back, squeezing her as if she’ll slip right through his fingers again.

It’s Manny’s turn to bring his gaze elsewhere. He pinched at his nose but gives the two their moment after seeing Seraphina close her eyes in Dante’s embrace. The hug is over much quicker than Dante would have liked but she touches his face tenderly, offering him an appreciative smile before she walks away from him once more.

Dante is determined to make sure that it’s not out of his life. Six months was more than enough and the time prior, he knew that this isn’t going to work for him. They made promises to each other and sure they were much younger then but devotion wasn’t like dust in the wind.

This relationship couldn’t be swept away.

And Dante was going to show her exactly that.

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Dante had no intent of staying in Kansas City for a lengthy time, it was a spur of the moment action in all honesty. One that Voight could tell it was something Dante needed to take care of so he let it slide for now. Would a weekend be enough to get back on track if the childhood friends could? Part of him knows the focus should be on Seraphina’s father, which he didn’t get the chance to talk to her about before Manny came and whisked her away. He wouldn’t push it but it was most definitely on his mind as he sat alone in the hotel room.

He’s already spoken to his ma, who wanted all of the details but there truthfully wasn’t much to say, which meant he did more listening to the woman than what he revealed. Dante didn’t want to apply too much pressure given the unknown circumstance with Mr. Coty’s health but he would be damned if he left here without trying.

Dante’s stared at her contact name for some time until it appears across his screen on its own, spinning along the top of his phone. He takes time answering it, not wanting to appear too eager that the woman took him off block but hearing her voice may just ease his anxieties. She apologizes about it being so late calling him, informing him that she’s staying the night with her father but asked if Dante would be interested in meeting up in the morning at union station to mainly clear the air, which Dante agreed to.

He just didn’t expect union station to be as huge as it was, something he should have researched before he finally fell into slumber, instead of one hour before the meet up time. (the pictures did it no justice) However with his skills Dante was positive it wouldn’t take him long to find her in the detailed building. The high ceilings made Dante feel almost like a child and the intricate chandeliers were pleasant enough to lead the way as he found his way through to the mentioned coffee shop.

Seraphina had just beat him, taking a seat at the circular table, setting her iced coffee and flaky pastry of choice on the table before checking her phone and using both of her hands to massage at her neck. Soon Dante is making his way over to her, heart thudding in his chest. He tells her not to get up, kissing her cheek in greeting before she tells him he should order something inside before the rush starts.

“Iced mocha?” Dante quizzes as he pushes himself closer to the table.

Seraphina nods before lifting her chin at his hot beverage, “Boring cappuccino?”

He scoffs as he takes a sip at his creamy espresso, “Don’t be a hater so early in the morning, Nina. It’s not a good look.”

She playfully glares at him before she sits back against the chair, eyes deciding to people watch.

“Manny didn’t want to attend this meet up?” He slides that in, voice gentle but there was a hint of bite in it that she would obviously pick up on as he peered over at the woman underneath his eyelashes.

There’s a spec of amusement in Seraphina’s eyes, “No. if you must know, he brought my mom back up to the hospital to stay with my dad and he’s working from my parents’ house.”

“Good for him,” Dante mumbles sarcastically.

She shakes her head at him, “This isn’t necessary you know? He’s a good guy.”

“He better be.” Dante informs while Seraphina tilts her head at him in warning, “Just because I’m not around like I would like to be, doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone get away with treating you less than you deserve.”

She stares at him then, finding his words to be genuine. They’ve been around each other enough to know when their protectiveness was warranted. It was nice to see that this was still true.

“Well…you don’t have to worry about Manny in that department.” Seraphina defends.

“Good.”

“Do you want this entire conversation to be about him…because I can tell you more about him if you like?”

Dante’s quick with it, “I’d rather sit on the train tracks while waiting for a train to come by.”

“…That’s dark.”

A crooked smile plays on his lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, not if you mean it.” Seraphina answers, “…Is it bothering you that much?”

“That you’ve moved on without me?” Dante asks, pushing his lips out in thought, “I just…don’t want you to forget me. These six months have been less than great without you, Nina. It’s not something I really got used to. I even thought about driving to the east coast.”

She presses her elbows onto the table, resting her cheek against her clasped hands, “I think you’d like Jersey city. At least the blending in part.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not Vancouver but I feel optimistic there…at least for now.” Seraphina admits, reaching for her drink.

‘You should visit someday,’ part of her thinks this but she keeps it only as a thought.

Dante watches her for a moment, taking in her words and how she still thought of him. Perhaps it wasn’t all the time like he often did with her but it brought him comfort to know that she hadn’t forgotten him despite her cutting him off. There were plenty of talks between the once young teens when they snuck into each other’s rooms to lay side by side, staring up at one another’s ceilings as they talked about the future, talked about seeing the world together or even a piece of it that didn’t cut like chicago did.

Back then that was just talks but now Seraphina was taking that step…except Dante was behind her instead of beside her in their adulthood.

“Are you in a house?” Dante keeps the conversation casual, having a feeling that it wouldn’t remain this way.

Seraphina tells, “Back to condo living for me. It just doesn’t make sense for me to get back into buying something when I’m not sure JC is going to be my forever home.”

Dante perks up at this.

“I mean I’ve seen Indiana, KC, Rhode Island, Philly, JC, and of course Chicago—which absolutely is the best city in the world,” she teased with a roll of her eyes which makes Dante grin, “I just don’t want to be stuck anymore, ya know?”

Dante can understand that. He’s spent years growing up beside Seraphina but he’s suddenly starting to realize, being left behind by the person he loved dearly, hurt more than he thought it would.

“Was I…part of what made you feel that way?”

Seraphina swallows, “I can’t say that’s fully on you. I made the choice to keep fighting for more from you when you’ve told me countless of times you couldn’t give me that. You didn’t want that. So part of that is my fault so I won’t solely put the blame on you…I can see that now. It took me leaving to process that, Tay.”

Dante blinks in that way which lets the woman know that he has a lot on his mind too. Something she said in this revelation has him slightly spinning, “It’s not that I didn’t want you. It’s just that I knew I had the potential to hurt you more and I know you didn’t deserve that but I ended up doing it anyway.”

Seraphina deeply inhaled and exhaled, “But don’t you think I should be the one that gets to have a say too? I was willing, I’ve seen you at your worst and your best. Shit, your demons are basically buddies with mine and I still chose to love you. Any chance I took it there, you slipped away, it was only on your terms and it just wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?” Dante pressed his elbows into the table, “What isn’t fair is everything that we’ve been through? Getting shot at, me constantly coming to you to clean me up, the drugs, the accident…me going to juvi? The cards told us all that we needed to know. We wouldn’t make it, Nina. Somewhere if we tried…who knows where our futures would be? It wouldn’t be normal. It would always be something else that ruins us.”

Seraphina chews on her bottom lip, looking away from Dante as he spoke his truth. It really stung to know that he thought so little of the two, of what could be. This was part of his demons, of letting circumstances get in his head. Any time the word future was mentioned, Seraphina automatically thought of her ill father. She went to war with that man over Dante, he would tear him down right in front of her whether Dante was in their home or not. Nonetheless Dante never wanted to be seen as the victim, although he’s never had it easy, he still chose to fight and prove himself.

Why couldn’t he keep that same energy with Seraphina?

When it came to love past the platonic, it only felt like defeat. He was anchored in the past and it was no secret to her, never has been.

“So…now that this friendship is on pause…do you still feel that way? Ruined?” Her words stun Dante as she spun it back on him.

Dante didn’t think it was a vindictive move since there were many factors as to why Seraphina made her big move. She was always the type of person to dance to her own drum, much like Dante who had his impulsive moments but he wasn’t sure how to take this.

“Was that part of the plan?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why say that to me?”

“I’m trying to prove a point,” Seraphina sighs, “You didn’t want to try romance because of fear but we tried friendship, your way and I’m the one who put distance between us. You said it hasn’t been easy and newsflash, it hasn’t for me either but I’ve coped. Learned how to exist without you.”

Dante feels his brows furrow. The woman before him was not entirely the same, she was stronger and harder to reach.

“And I’m sure Manny helped with that.” He finds himself snapping unintentionally.

Seraphina laughs in disbelief, hands going up in the air, “Oh this again! That demon is coming out to play huh? You don’t get to do that. Every small chance that I’ve tried to move on, you’ve had a problem with, when it always could have been you, should have been, you could have solved that but you let your insecurities get in the way.”

Dante lifts his shoulders not denying it, “I can’t help it. I’ve always wanted you to be happy but you and I both know they’re not worth your time.”

“…and why’s that?”

Dante blows out a breath, letting his back hit the chair, “Because we belong together…probably in every lifetime but I failed this one by giving my love to someone else.”

Seraphina felt like her heartbeat was in her stomach at Dante’s vulnerability. She didn’t think this conversation would be a walk in the park by any means but she also didn’t expect Dante to say this.

“Now you say that?” Seraphina managed to get out around shaky breath, “And I’m just supposed to accept this after all this time?”

Dante shakes his head, “I’m not asking you to be okay with this. You’re my person too, always will be. I’ve been to hell and back with you…I just can’t let you go anymore. It wouldn’t be right.”

“For who? You?” She fired off.

Dante argued, “Mi ma told me at the beginning, every other week that you called her, you cried over me.”

“It wasn’t just you.” Seraphina hissed, “Sure you were a big part of it but starting over by myself is terrifying but I did it. Just like I kept picking myself up every time you rejected me.”

“I didn’t—

“You did.” Seraphina asserts, “You wanted me as your safe space and needed me as your shadow.”

He winced at how blunt she sounded and how she truly believed that’s what he needed her for.

His elbows rest on the table as he leans a little to peer into her eyes, “You’ve never been a shadow, you’ve always been my right hand, my best friend, my soulmate, half of me.”

Seraphina tossed her head back, feeling her eyes burn. “…Dante…you know what they say about having someone be your everything…you won’t know what to do once you lose ‘em.”

“Is that what you want to hear? That I’m lost without you?”

Robin thicke is gagged!

“I don’t want to hear what you think I want to hear.”

“Good because i haven’t done that, not once since I’ve been sitting here. I love you and that’s not ever gonna change. You wanted time, I gave it to you but it’s my turn to fight for us and I’m tapped in.”

“What exactly are you fighting for? A friendship that no longer serves its purpose?”

“No.” Dante feels as if his heart is breaking again, “T-That’s not true and I know you don’t believe that either. You love me too.”

“Course I do! I wouldn’t have thought about raising a child with you after finding out I was—

Her eyes go wide at her rambling and Dante almost forgets how to breathe. He dips his head, trying to catch her eyes but suddenly she finds her iced mocha more interesting.

“You were what?” Dante pried bringing his up knuckles by his mouth, “Don’t try and slide by that, Nina. Tell me.”

Seraphina takes her time meeting Dante’s eyes, “I was pregnant and I miscarried.”

Dante drops his head against his fist. All the background noise was drowned out by the ringing in his ears and his legs began to shake—it was a good thing he was seated. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, how long has she been keeping this a secret from him?

“When?” Dante croaked out before clearing his throat and trying again, “When was this?”

“Some years ago…back when you were in the academy and I was working at the aquarium until I got hired at the lab.” Seraphina explains, playing with the sleeve of her shirt, but the weight didn’t feel completely lifted, it just felt like she shifted it off to the one person who was the last to know.

Should have known.

Dante pressed his fist to his mouth, just gazing at a sadden Seraphina. She thought about that part of their future, creating a family together, and seeing as much of the world as they could. It was right at her fingertips but it just wasn’t meant to be.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you felt like you could never talk to me about our…baby.” There’s tears in his throat and he has to close his eyes since they stung.

He feels her touch against his wrist, patiently waiting for him to meet her eyes.

“…And I’m sorry that I’m adding more to your grief.”

This she means, as she offers him a small smile.

He takes it, freeing one hand to grasp her’s.

They squeeze each other’s hands so tightly, almost as if they were attempting to take away each other’s pain. He wasn’t completely okay with this, he was mixed with so much right now he didn’t know the proper response or if he had a proper one in this moment. Yes this felt like betrayal because she didn’t trust him enough to let him know, that they had the potential to create life together but at the same time she must have felt so alone going through it all.

His voice comes out strained, “You could have told me, you know? You know I would have been there for you but…you left me in the dark for years, Seraphina.”

Seraphina nods, “I…didn’t know how. I thought I was protecting you—us. You already constantly blamed yourself for the accident when we were kids and I just…didn’t want you to beat yourself up anymore over the loss.”

He laughs almost bitterly although his chest aches while he pulls his hand from her’s, “Protecting me is not lying to me. This all makes sense now, you know? Why you’ve held on all this time when you could have shared that with me? I would have been there and I hope you know that now. I thought we were better than that.”

“Well maybe we’re not,” Seraphina scoffs, “This back and forth is always constant. I finally got tired. I’ve always been sure, always wanted more. A baby wouldn’t have fixed your uncertainties even if a part of me hoped it would then.”

Dante sharply turns his head to her, “Who says I’m not sure? If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t still be here but it was no problem for you to not only walk away but shut me out on that part of your life.”

Seraphina’s shoulder slump at this. She had to take accountability for this and ultimately she regretted holding onto this for so long. She had fear inside of her as well, it was her way of trying to protect Dante like he’s been doing all this time—in his mind. Perhaps it was all a huge chunk of miscommunications and striving to shield each other from more hurt.

Her voice is hushed that even with Dante sitting across from her, he could have missed this, “I’m sorry for that…I think I didn’t want to be more of a burden to you.”

Dante feels his head jerk back at this, “You never were. I just didn’t know how to make you understand that loving you past our friendship could make things worse. I didn’t want that for us. And now learning this…”

He stops, the blended emotions hitting him again as he struggled to clear his throat.

“I wanted to tell you but if I did…I was scared you’d leave me for good.” Seraphina feels her eyes water but she doesn’t dare let them fall.

He’s reaching for her hand again, her other going to wipe at her damp nose, quickly looking away from her old friend, “I would have never left you if you told me that. Yeah, I’ll always feel like it’s my fault that…you’ll never be able to carry but I wouldn’t have left you alone when you needed me the most.”

There’s a deep throbbing sadness in the air but it softens some with a sort of understanding sprouting amongst them. Their friendship was not only full of love but also great fear.

A sob threatens to escape her lips, “I—I started to feel alone in this for some time. Which is why I thought letting go was the best choice. I made it this time.”

Dante hates to hear Seraphina say this to him. However maybe he’s felt the same, in a different way. He knows he loves Seraphina but wouldn’t allow himself to be in love by shutting himself off to that idea. They were supposed to be so much more but years of hurt clouded their judgment in many ways.

“You were never alone,” Dante’s gaze is raw, open, and just as afraid as she is, “I’ve always been right here. I let hurt lead the way and since you’ve been gone…I don’t think we’re the same people we used to be.”

For the first time in years…it feels like Dante isn’t hiding from her. He’s no longer slipping and although there’s evident distance, he’s no longer shielding himself from what this is.

A smile sits on the corner of her full lips.

This finally feels like they’re getting somewhere and maybe this is what it takes.

“We were never going to be perfect,” Seraphina starts, “That wouldn’t be the Nina and Tay way.”

“Why does your name get to go first when I’m older?” Dante rests his hands on his chest in feign offense, a frown appearing on his face.

Seraphina rolls her eyes, her tone light and playful, “By six months boo-fucking hoo.”

Dante snorts with a crossing of his arms, “I think I’m starting to hate that number now.”

Seraphina can’t help but feel a bubble of laughter rise in her chest, a small, soft laugh that feels almost out of place after everything they’ve said. However something is there, a tiny relief, that reminds them of the easiness of their dynamic that once made their friendship so effortless. It’s like a wave of cool presses down the tension in her neck, freezing it away, making her feel as if they might be okay despite the heaviness at the start of their day.

“It’s just a number, Tay. Not a lifetime.” She tries to persuade, laughter lingering in her tone as she picked at the now cold pastry.

Dante looks at her with a growing softness, his grin reaching his eyes and that faint dimple that isn’t seen so much with others, appears at the apple of his cheek, “Maybe that’s what I need right now. A little more Nina and Tay and a lot less... all of this."

Seraphina nods along as the buzzed hair man who sported a growing 5 o’clock shadow motions to what they’ve been battling.

“That’s your gift you know,” Dante continues, “You’ve always had a way of making me strive for better…like I can do anything. Be anything, be lighter underneath it all.”

The light haired woman can feel herself dissociating as Dante’s words fill up the air. The dark of her mind threatens to bring up the uninvited voice of Gloria Perez, who she had the pleasure of meeting briefly weeks before her final departure from this earth.

“I can see why you have such a hold on Dante.” The brunette approached Seraphina outside of the lab one night as she stands at the doors, tossing her work keys into her tote bag in exchange for her car keys, her head snaps over to the voice that greets her, “He may not have talked about you much, but I’ve always known there was someone much more important. Someone much more real for him, the good against the bad. He should loosen his grip.”

Gloria’s words are like an itch Seraphina can’t get to, taunting her and ready to pull her back to stay in that moment where she met the woman that didn’t deserve Dante. She never wanted to be compared to anyone else but sometimes that’s just not the way the world works. She briefly glanced at Dante who’s still staring at her, a tenderness in his now moss colored eyes across from her. Seraphina can still hear Gloria and it was starting to piss her off—healing takes time okay! She wants to be present with Dante, this was their moment and not anyone else’s.

Seraphina steadies herself, closing her eyes and shaking Gloria’s voice away so it slips somewhere to the back of her mind because those doubts don’t define her anymore as she decides to reply, “…I think we both need to remember the Nina and Tay way a little more."

The hint of wonder mixed with just living in the moment the best way they knew how was reminiscent.

Don’t think Dante didn’t notice the shift in her expression but he doesn’t push it like he knows she would have done him. This was all a lot especially since Seraphina’s plan was to slip in for Mr. Coty and out (things took a turn) yet still found time to make this work.

“…how is he?”

This is the first time Dante’s asking, although it’s been on his mind long before he entered the hospital yesterday evening.

Seraphina tries to put on a smile but it’s weak and doesn’t reach her eyes. “Chemo doesn’t work for this kind of cancer so it’s a 30% chance of survival but they’re starting him on meds soon.”

“Oh, Nina…” Dante breathes while she sniffs and takes a sip from her straw, “What can I do?”

She lightly shakes her head but there’s appreciation on her pretty face and he wants to reach to caress her cheek in hopes that she’ll lean into him. However times are different and they’re rebuilding.

“Just sitting here with me is nice,” She lifts her shoulders, folded by a forced smile and watery eyes, “You did mean it when you said you’d be in my corner right?”

“Always.” Dante nods, “I—

He wants to say it, that he loves her, always would love her but it sits on his tongue.

She knows.

“I needed that.” Seraphina whispers, “You know more than anybody the nature of our father and daughter relationship. When he and mom came to KC, I felt like I got a piece of me back. And now to hear that his life is at risk in his sixties…that’s another thing I didn’t want to dive into but I know at some point I’ll have to.”

Dante can sense that she’s struggling with this. It’s been better, honestly as a friend looking in that her parents decided to move away to Missouri because it allowed Seraphina to just be herself and not her mistakes.

“I don’t know how to be there for him, Dante.” There’s a slight glare on her face as she peers off to the right yet it’s not directed at anyone, “There were plenty of times I needed him growing up and he did nothing but shame me for every little thing. I was such a nervous wreck around him back then. The distance between us three: mom, me, and dad worked. Now that he’s sick I’m just supposed to let everything go? Doing that feels wrong to my inner child ya know?”

His heart aches for her, but his presence remains calm as he knows how much she’s carried when it comes to Mr. Coty and even Mrs. Coty. He’s also been on the receiving end of her father’s hurtful words and anger.

Dante’s voice is careful and gentle, a nature that she can rely on, “You don’t have to have the answers Ms. Know it all,” he winks at the common nickname which makes her smile with a shake of her head, “it’s okay to just be in the now. You have every right to be angry at what he did. I was there for half of it, what he did to you—us.”

From the vile and abusive language when Seraphina wouldn’t obey him, to the sneers at just the sight of her, the neglect, the over strictness where she simply couldn’t be a kid, defying her dreams, the attempted drowning—she couldn’t remember the last time her father even held her hand or told her he loved her.

Her chest works with the storm of the past. It wasn’t only the fact of how he treated his own daughter but it was also the way he treated her friend. Mr. Coty was even harsh towards Dante and belittled him, doing things he didn’t deserve either.

Then there’s this other side of him now, fragile and wanting to make things right if God intended to take him out. Seraphina feels like maybe she should feel guilty for having a bit of bitterness in her as stood in front of his bed, watching him sleep. He was supposed to be the first man that taught her how to be loved.

“I should be there now because you never know with time right,” Seraphina laughs a little, “I could walk away for good but the little girl in me still wants to be there for him and let him know that I do love him and not just because I’m supposed to. But I can’t forget everything. The things he said. The way he treated you.”

Dante nods, knowing this has always bothered Seraphina and seen how Mr. Coty’s ways shaped her, how it’s influenced everything from their relationship to how she views the world. But he’s also seen the strength in her. He knows her better than anyone. And he knows this is part of her growth, part of the painful process of letting go and figuring out what she needs, not just from her father but from the people who care about her most.

Dante’s voice is low but echoes the weight of the history, “Seraphina, I can’t tell you what to do. But I can tell you this—what he did to us, what he did to you, doesn’t have to define your choices now. Be there for you, you have the power.” There’s an intensity in his eyes that feels like reassurance, “You don’t have to fix his sins or anyone else’s. You’ve got this.”

She realizes that’s she’s been holding onto what her father has done for years. How it’s been avoidant since they both moved, buried like most things tended to be in Chicago. It’s a move on and you’ll live moment and frankly, Seraphina Coty’s had enough.

Then there’s a sadness that sits still in her chest at the thought that she could really lose her father. There’s also another presence that’s been on her mind, her patient but blossomed relationship with her new boyfriend of two months, Manny. He on the other hand, learned the dynamic of her relationship with her parents, tried to encourage her to keep an open mind and that closed mouths don’t get fed. Manny was used to constant conversations and was in the works of putting together a sit down and then…this happened.

It was the first time they butted heads.

His intentions were good but he wasn’t there to witness it all. He probably would never truly get it since he had a fantastic relationship with his parents, almost squeaky clean, something completely different than what Seraphina was used to.

She feels the push and pull between what’s expected of her and what she needs. She can’t stop herself from thinking about the differences between him and Dante. Which is ironic since she never wanted Dante comparing her to Gloria.

Seraphina’s voice is firm, pulling herself back from the brink of uncertainty, “I hear you I do but it’s never that simple. I’ve got someone else in the picture now and Manny feels like I’ll regret it if I don’t help out. He’s trying to be there for me too through all of this.”

Dante slightly scrunches up his lips while studying his old friend. So her and Manny were serious now? Only makes sense since he’s here with her but it doesn’t stop the sting of hearing it so plainly. “Screw what Manny thinks. He can be here but he has no idea, he wasn’t there so he shouldn’t be pushing you to do something you’re not sure of yourself, Nina. I would know, I was there first and I’m not going anywhere this time. Even if you push me away.”

It’s petty sure but Dante feels the way that he feels and he can’t change it. He wasn’t here to cause problems between Nina and Manny but he was going to say what he felt. Dante could respect that Manny was here during Seraphina’s time of need but he couldn’t get with the overstepping.

He’ll learn his place soon enough.

Dante says this with quiet conviction, as though he’s making a promise to himself, to her, that this—what they are—isn’t something he’s willing to give up again, not without a fight. He let her go twice before but this time taught Dante everything he needed to know.

He can fight harder for her and that he will.

Clearing his throat after finding Seraphina observing him with her eyes, in a way that he was almost like an experiment made him a little uneasy. Sometimes she didn’t realize she was even doing it, her eyes low but focused with curiosity.

Dante continues, “I’m not here to compete. But I’m here for you. I always have been. And if you need me, you don’t have to hide from that. Especially when it comes to him.”

His statement is bold and lets Seraphina know, this whole ordeal has unleashed something in him that she’s seen in Dante before.

She exhaled with her eyes closed and says, “I don’t know what I need right now. But I do know that I’m not ready to shut you out again.”

And those words alone works just fine for Dante.

After all maybe he was beginning to see the art of letting go in order to rebuild. But some parts of him still wondered what that rebuild would look like, after they departed and went on about their days with a new found acceptance of each other.

What would they look like now?

The future, it seemed, wasn’t clear but they were still a puzzle that they intended to piece together and not let slip through their hands, this time.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

-> Part two

#queued #spotify #dante torres #Dante Torres x oc #Dante Torres x reader #benjamin levy aguilar #winter writing #winter writes #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #fic series: killing me

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