#disagreement is fine but if you try to start a fight over something I didn’t say | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lila-lou · 2 months ago

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✨Taking her in - Pt. 2✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language

Word Count: 6472

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

But as soon as Dean stepped into the hallway, he collided with you.

You were walking toward the bathroom, eyes glued to your phone, completely unaware of your surroundings. The sudden impact made you stumble back, and you looked up in surprise, your gaze locking with Dean’s.

The world seemed to freeze in that moment.

Dean felt his breath catch in his throat as he stood there, half-naked and dripping wet, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The shock in your eyes quickly gave way to something else—a flicker of something unreadable that made his heart stutter in his chest. He could see the way your gaze flicked over him, taking in the sight of him standing there, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t intended.

And fuck, the way you looked at him—it sent a jolt of heat through him that he didn’t know how to handle.

“Dean—”, you started, but whatever you were going to say was lost as you took in the situation fully, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.

Dean’s mind scrambled for something to say, something to do that wouldn’t make this moment even more awkward than it already was. But he was caught off guard, still reeling from everything he’d been trying to push down in the shower, and now here you were, standing right in front of him, too close and too far all at once.

“Sorry”, you mumbled, stepping back, your eyes darting away from his as you tried to give him space. “I wasn’t paying attention. I—um—I didn’t mean to…”.

Dean shook his head, finding his voice, though it came out rougher than he intended. “It’s fine. My fault. Should’ve looked where I was going”.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe just a quick remark to break the tension, but the words never came. Dean’s eyes flicked down briefly, just for a split second, but it was enough for him to realize with a jolt of panic that the unwelcome reaction he’d been fighting off in the shower was back with a vengeance. His body betrayed him again, and this time there was no cold water to douse the flames.

Without another word, he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, your unspoken words hanging in the air. The speed of his retreat, the way he couldn’t even look at you as he left, made your stomach twist with a confusing mix of emotions. You watched him go, feeling a wave of something that wasn’t quite anger, but close—a hurt that sat heavy in your chest.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still mad at you, that the argument from earlier was somehow still hanging over both of you, unresolved and festering. But this felt different too, more personal, like there was something else going on that you couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t just the remnants of your disagreement; it was something deeper, something unspoken that lingered in the space between you.

As Dean disappeared down the hallway, you were left standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. The awkwardness of the encounter had left you flustered, but it was the way he had walked away that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Dean had seemed off balance, as if he was barely holding himself together. And the way he had avoided your gaze, the quickness with which he’d retreated, it all added up to something that made you uneasy.

With a sigh, you shook your head and continued into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You needed to clear your head, to figure out how to handle whatever was happening between you and Dean before it spiraled even further out of control.

But as you stood there, staring at yourself in the mirror, the image of Dean—half-naked, dripping wet, and looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him—kept playing in your mind.

The weight of your feelings pressed down on you like a heavy blanket. You’d been in love with Dean for years now—ever since the moment he’d first saved you, stepping into your life like a guardian angel with rough edges and a heart that you’d seen was softer than he let on. You could still remember how your heart had fluttered in that first moment, how the fear you’d felt had been replaced by something warmer, something you hadn’t understood then but had come to know all too well.

But to Dean, you were just the helpless kid he’d saved. The one he had taken under his wing, brought into the fold of his makeshift family, and protected with a fierceness that both comforted and frustrated you. He saw you as a little sister, someone to look after, to shield from the horrors of the world. And that was the problem. No matter how much you’d grown, no matter how strong you’d become, he still looked at you and saw that frightened kid who needed saving.

That was why it hurt so much every time he treated you like a child, why it triggered something deep inside you. Because you weren’t that kid anymore. You were a woman now, with feelings and desires and a heart that ached every time you looked at him, knowing he’d never see you the way you wanted him to. Knowing that, in his eyes, you’d always be someone to protect, not someone to love.

And that was the real pain of it—the knowledge that no matter how much you cared for him, no matter how deeply you felt, he would never see you as anything more than his responsibility. Someone to keep safe, not someone to hold close.

The image of him standing there in that hallway, half-naked, had shaken you more than you cared to admit. Because for a split second, you thought you saw something different in his eyes—a flicker of something that mirrored the way you felt. But then he had turned away, retreating so quickly that it left you reeling, unsure if you’d imagined the whole thing.

You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair as you tried to shake off the lingering tension from the encounter. You knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, couldn’t keep hoping for something that would never happen. Dean had made it clear, time and time again, that he was there to protect you, to keep you safe. And that was all it would ever be.

But even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t help the way your heart clenched at the thought. The love you felt for him was something that had grown over the years, something that had taken root so deeply inside you that you didn’t know how to untangle it from who you were. And no matter how much you tried to push it down, to bury it under layers of practicality and logic, it always found a way to rise to the surface.

Taking a deep breath, you splashed some water on your face, trying to clear your head. You needed to stop dwelling on this, stop letting it consume you. Dean wasn’t yours, and he never would be. You had to accept that, had to find a way to move on, even if it meant dealing with the pain of unrequited love.

Back in Dean’s room, he shut the door behind him with a little too much force, the sound reverberating in the otherwise quiet space. His heart was still pounding, his mind a chaotic mess of conflicting thoughts. But as much as he wanted to push everything down and ignore it, his body had other plans.

He glanced down at the towel wrapped around his waist, cursing under his breath as he saw the telltale sign of his arousal, the strain of his erection against the fabric. His fists clenched at his sides, frustration and shame warring within him. This was wrong—so wrong—and he knew it. He kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, hoping that if he said it enough times, it would sink in, that it would somehow make the feelings go away.

But no matter how hard he tried to will it down, his body wouldn’t listen. The memory of you standing so close, the way your eyes had looked up at him with something that felt dangerously like longing, was burned into his mind. And it wasn’t just that—your scent, the warmth of your presence, the way your voice had softened when you’d said his name—it was all too much, too overwhelming. It was a storm inside him that he couldn’t control.

Dean’s jaw tightened as he turned away from the door, pacing the length of his room in an attempt to clear his head. He tried to focus on anything else—the hunt, the research that needed to be done, anything that would distract him from the unbearable ache in his chest and the unwelcome desire pooling in his gut. But every time he tried to shift his thoughts, they circled back to you, pulling him into the same torturous loop.

“This is wrong”, he muttered to himself, the words a growl of frustration. “She’s too young. She’s like a sister. You can’t… you can’t do this”.

But even as he said it, the logic of it felt hollow, powerless against the tide of emotions he was barely holding back. He was supposed to be stronger than this, supposed to be able to keep these feelings in check, but here he was, barely able to keep himself together after one accidental encounter.

Dean sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands as he fought to regain control. This wasn’t just about desire—if it were, he might have been able to push it aside. No, this was something deeper, something that had been growing for years, something that terrified him because of how strong it had become.

He cared about you—more than he’d ever let on, even to himself. And that was the crux of it, the thing he couldn’t ignore. This wasn’t just a passing attraction; it was rooted in something real, something that had been building from the moment he’d saved you all those years ago. But he couldn’t let himself feel it, couldn’t let himself want you like that. Because if he did, it would ruin everything.

Dean took a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself to stand and move toward the dresser. He needed to get dressed, needed to do something normal, something to ground himself before he lost whatever grip he had left. But as he reached for his clothes, his hands were trembling, and his thoughts were still a jumbled mess.

Eventually, Dean managed to pull himself together enough to get dressed. His hands were still shaking slightly as he yanked on a pair of boxers, grimacing as he adjusted himself to hide his persistent erection by tucking it under the waistband. The discomfort was a reminder of the situation he was trying so desperately to avoid, but he pushed through it, forcing himself to focus on the mundane task of pulling on his jeans and a flannel shirt.

Once he was dressed, he stood in the middle of his room for a moment, trying to steady his breathing, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in his head. He needed something to distract himself, something to take the edge off before he had to face you or Sam again. His gaze flicked toward the door, and he knew where he needed to go—the kitchen. A cold beer wouldn’t solve his problems, but it might help him get a handle on them, at least for a little while.

Dean took one last deep breath, running a hand through his still-damp hair before he made his way out of his room and down the hall. The bunker was quiet, and he was grateful for the silence; it gave him a chance to pull himself together, to try to push down the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him.

As he reached the kitchen, he pulled open the fridge with more force than necessary, grabbing a cold bottle of beer from the shelf. He popped the cap off with practiced ease and took a long swig, the cool liquid sliding down his throat and easing some of the tension in his chest.

For a moment, he just stood there, leaning against the counter with the bottle in hand, staring blankly at the far wall.

It took Dean four beers before he finally felt even remotely ready to face Sam in the library. Each bottle had gone down quicker than the last, the cold liquid doing its best to numb the edges of his thoughts, to push the swirling storm of emotions back to a manageable level.

He set the empty bottle down on the counter with a soft clink, letting out a long, slow breath as he ran a hand through his hair again, trying to shake off the lingering haze of frustration and confusion. It wasn’t much, but the alcohol had taken the edge off, had given him a little more control over the chaos inside him.

Dean knew he couldn’t put off talking to Sam any longer. His brother had a way of sensing when something was off, and the last thing Dean needed was for Sam to start asking questions he wasn’t ready to answer. He needed to act normal, needed to push everything else aside and focus on what mattered—keeping things from spiraling any further out of control.

With a final, resolute nod to himself, Dean pushed away from the counter and made his way out of the kitchen, heading toward the library. The familiar hum of the bunker filled the silence as he walked, the steady sound a small comfort in the midst of the turmoil he was trying to keep at bay.

As he approached the library, he could see Sam already sitting at one of the long wooden tables, a stack of books in front of him, the glow of his laptop casting a soft light on his face. Sam looked up as Dean entered, his expression shifting from concentration to something more guarded—like he was trying to gauge Dean’s mood before saying anything.

“Hey”, Sam greeted, his tone cautious as he closed the book he’d been reading. “Everything okay?”.

Dean forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, just needed to cool off a bit. You know how it is”.

Sam nodded slowly, clearly not entirely convinced but willing to let it slide for now. “Yeah, I get it. You want to go over what we found earlier? Might help take your mind off things”.

Dean knew what Sam was doing—offering him a distraction, a way to focus on something other than whatever had been eating at him since the argument with you. It was the kind of thing Sam was good at, knowing when to push and when to give space. And right now, Dean appreciated the latter.

“Sure”, Dean said, crossing the room to sit down across from Sam. “Let’s get to it”.

Sam gave him a small, understanding nod before opening one of the books, flipping to a marked page. “So, I was looking into that case in Ohio, and I found something that might tie into it. There’s a pattern here with the disappearances, something that lines up with an old legend about…”.

As Sam started to explain his findings, Dean tried to focus on the words, on the research and the hunt ahead of them. It was familiar territory, something he could sink his teeth into, something that didn’t involve the confusing mess of emotions he was desperately trying to bury.

But even as he listened, even as he nodded along and offered his own thoughts on the case, a part of his mind was still back in that hallway with you. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t completely push it away, couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that something between you had changed—and that there was no going back.

For now, though, he would focus on the hunt. On the work that needed to be done. And maybe, just maybe, he could keep everything else locked away where it couldn’t hurt anyone. At least until he figured out how to deal with it without destroying the fragile balance that had been holding everything together for so long.

It wasn’t until late that evening, when Sam came back with a bag full of Chinese takeout, that Dean had to face you again. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon and evening at the map table, nursing his tenth beer, trying to lose himself in the work and the alcohol. But neither had done much to ease the tension coiled in his chest or the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone.

The bunker had been quiet, with only the soft rustling of pages and the occasional click of Sam’s keyboard to break the silence. It had been a welcome reprieve, a chance for Dean to keep his distance from you, to avoid any more awkward encounters or the dangerous feelings that came with them.

But now, as the smell of fried rice and sesame chicken wafted through the air, Dean knew he couldn’t avoid you any longer.

“(Y/N), I brought some Chinese!”, Sam’s voice echoed through the bunker, the sound casual and warm.

Dean didn’t move right away, staying seated at the map table, his fingers drumming lightly on the wood as he stared at the bottle in front of him. The thought of seeing you again, of facing whatever tension still hung between you, made his chest tighten. But he had to pull it together, had to act like everything was fine, like nothing had changed.

A few moments later, you appeared in the doorway, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up to see you. To his displeasure—and to the immediate dismay of his already frayed self-control—you were wearing a pair of shorts that were far too short for his peace of mind, paired with a tight top that left a good portion of your stomach exposed. The sight of you like that sent a jolt of heat through him, and he had to force himself to look away, to focus on anything other than the way your body moved as you shyly approached.

You hesitated in the doorway, clearly unsure of how he’d react, your eyes flicking to the beer in front of him and the tension in his posture. “Hey”, you said softly, your voice tentative.

Dean grunted in response, not trusting himself to say more. He took a long swig of his beer instead, trying to ignore the way his pulse had quickened, the way his mind was betraying him with images he had no business thinking about. He knew he needed to keep it together, but the sight of you like this, so close and so… exposed, was making it nearly impossible.

Sam, ever the oblivious or maybe just tactfully ignoring the tension in the room, smiled at you. “Come on, grab some food before it gets cold”.

Sam spread the food over the map table, setting out containers of fried rice, sesame chicken, egg rolls, and a few other dishes. He was all smiles, clearly trying to keep things light, urging you to take a seat. “Come on, dig in”, he said, gesturing to the open containers as he grabbed a pair of chopsticks for himself. “I got all your favorites”.

You offered him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. There was still a lingering uncertainty in your movements as you took a seat across from Dean, your eyes flickering to him for a brief moment before quickly darting away. The tension between you was palpable, thick enough that it seemed to weigh down the air around you.

Dean watched you out of the corner of his eye, doing his best to keep his expression neutral as he reached for another beer. His fingers brushed against the cold glass of the bottle, but he hesitated before taking another drink. The alcohol had dulled the edges of his thoughts earlier, but now, with you sitting so close, he wasn’t sure it was doing him any favors.

Sam tore open a packet of soy sauce and drizzled it over his rice, taking a big bite before looking at you with a grin. “You okay, (Y/N)?”, he asked casually, though there was an undercurrent of concern in his voice. “You’ve been kind of quiet”.

You nodded, reaching for a container of fried rice and a pair of chopsticks, though your movements were slower than usual. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you replied, though the words felt forced. You stole another quick glance at Dean, who was still staring at the beer in his hand, as if it held all the answers he needed.

Dean could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything in him not to look up, not to let his gaze travel down to the way your shorts hugged your thighs or the sliver of skin exposed by your top. He knew he should say something, should try to bridge the gap that had grown between you, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he focused on the beer in front of him, taking another long swig in the hopes that it might help settle the restless energy coiled in his chest.

But it didn’t. If anything, the alcohol only heightened his awareness of you, made him more acutely aware of the scent of your shampoo, the soft sound of your breathing, the way your legs crossed under the table.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dean reached for some food, trying to focus on anything other than the knot of tension tightening in his chest. He grabbed a container of fried rice and scooped some onto his plate, doing his best to keep his movements casual, as if he wasn’t hyper-aware of your every glance.

But he could feel it—the way you kept looking at him, your eyes flicking up to meet his before quickly darting away. It was like a constant pressure, a silent question that hung in the air between you. Every time he caught you looking at him, it only made his heart beat faster, his thoughts more jumbled.

For nearly twenty minutes, the silence stretched on, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of chopsticks against plastic and Sam’s attempts at casual conversation. But even Sam seemed to sense the strain, his usual chatter subdued as he alternated between talking about the hunt and filling the awkward gaps in conversation.

Dean kept his head down, focusing on his food, but the weight of your gaze was impossible to ignore. The more you watched him, the more he felt the walls he’d built up start to crumble.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, Sam stood up and stretched. “I’m gonna grab a beer”, he said, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the table. He glanced at you, then at Dean, before heading toward the kitchen. “You guys want anything?”.

Dean shook his head, his voice tight. “I’m good”.

You shook your head as well, offering Sam a small smile as he left the room. The moment he was gone, the silence between you and Dean seemed to grow even heavier, the air thick with all the things neither of you were saying.

Dean could feel your eyes on him again, and this time, it was too much. He set down his chopsticks, his fingers twitching with the need to do something—anything—to break the tension. He clenched his jaw, trying to push down the frustration and confusion that had been building inside him all day.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He looked up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that surprised even him. “What?”, he asked, his voice rougher than he intended. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden sharpness in his tone. But you didn’t look away, your expression shifting from uncertainty to something more determined. “Because… because something’s wrong, Dean”, you said, your voice quiet but steady. “And you won’t talk to me about it".

Dean felt a surge of emotions he couldn’t quite name—anger, frustration, something else that he didn’t want to acknowledge. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Nothing’s wrong, (Y/N). I’m just tired”.

But you weren’t buying it. He could see it in your eyes, the way you were studying him like you were trying to see past the mask he was wearing. “Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know you better than that”.

That hit harder than it should have, and Dean felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. You did know him, maybe better than most people. And that was the problem. You knew when he was hiding something, when he was trying to push you away, and now it was clear you weren’t going to let it go.

He looked away, unable to hold your gaze any longer. “I’m not lying”, he muttered, though he knew it wasn’t convincing. Not to you, not to himself.

“Yes, you are”, you mumbled, your voice trembling slightly. “Look, I’m sorry if I pushed you earlier, but I just… I feel useless, Dean. I’m not working, I’m not hunting. I’m just… I’m just getting groceries with your damn money, cleaning, doing the laundry”. You paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing, your voice even quieter. “But I want to be more than just a burden on you and Sam’s wallet. I want to help hunting”.

Dean swallowed hard, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at him. He’d always seen you as part of the family, not a burden, but he realized now that his actions might have made you feel otherwise. He hated that you felt like this, hated that you saw yourself as anything less than the strong, capable person he knew you were.

“You’re not a burden”, Dean said, his voice gruff but earnest. He finally looked up at you, his green eyes meeting yours, and he saw the sincerity in your expression—the desperate need for him to understand. “You’ve never been a burden, (Y/N). You’re part of this family. And yeah, maybe I’ve been a little overprotective, but that’s only because…”.

He trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence without revealing too much, without crossing that line he’d been so carefully toeing for years. The truth was, he cared about you—more than he should, more than he was willing to admit even to himself. And that was why he’d kept you on the sidelines, why he’d tried to shield you from the dangers of hunting. Because the thought of losing you, of something happening to you out there, was more than he could bear.

You waited for him to finish, your eyes never leaving his, and he could see the determination in them—the same determination that had drawn him to you in the first place. You weren’t going to back down, and he knew it.

“Because what, Dean?”, you prompted gently, your voice soft but firm.

Dean clenched his jaw, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing down on him like a vice. He knew that you deserved the truth, deserved to know why he was holding back, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross that line. Not when he was so afraid of what it might mean—both for you and for him.

“Just drop it, (Y/N), please”, he finally said, his voice rough with barely restrained emotion. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze any longer, his fists clenching at his sides in frustration. “I can’t… I just can’t talk about this right now”.

The hurt in your eyes was like a punch to the gut, and he hated himself for putting that look on your face. But he couldn’t let himself give in to the emotions that were threatening to spill over. He couldn’t let himself feel the things he was so desperately trying to bury.

You didn’t respond right away, and the silence that stretched between you was almost unbearable. Dean could feel the tension, the weight of all the things left unsaid hanging in the air. He wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—that might make this easier, but the words wouldn’t come.

Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay, Dean. I’ll drop it. But this isn’t over. You know that, right?”.

He nodded stiffly, still not looking at you. “Yeah, I know”.

Just as the weight of your conversation hung heavy between you, the tension was interrupted by the sound of Sam’s footsteps echoing through the hallway as he returned from the kitchen. He entered the room, holding a fresh beer, his easy-going demeanor a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Dean.

Sam moved back to his seat and began eating again, filling the silence with casual conversation about the hunt, the case details, and the plan for the next few days. You responded when necessary, but your mind was clearly elsewhere.

As the meal was finished, the clatter of chopsticks and rustling of takeout containers filled the room as you and Sam cleared away your dishes. When you stood up to take the empty containers to the trash, Dean’s gaze was drawn to you despite himself.

As you moved around the table, reaching for Dean’s empty container, his eyes couldn’t help but trace the lines of your figure. Those little shorts you wore hugged your hips, thighs, and ass in a way that made it impossible for him to look away. The way they glided over your curves, emphasizing every inch of your form, made his breath hitch in his throat. He cursed himself silently, trying to fight the heat rising in his chest, but it was no use.

For a moment, time seemed to slow as he watched you, every detail of your appearance seared into his mind. He knew he shouldn’t be looking, knew that it was wrong to let his thoughts go where they were inevitably headed, but the pull was too strong, too overwhelming.

When you bent down slightly to pick up the containers, giving him an even better view, Dean had to physically force himself to look away, his fists clenching tightly under the table. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something darker twisting inside him. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted to protect you, but this was different. This was something he couldn’t control, something that threatened to consume him if he wasn’t careful.

You straightened up and caught Dean’s gaze as you turned back toward the kitchen. The brief eye contact was electric, like a jolt of energy passing between you. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the lingering hurt from your earlier conversation, but there was something else too—a flicker of something that mirrored the turmoil in his own heart.

You held his gaze for a moment longer, as if searching for something in his eyes, before turning and heading to the kitchen to dispose of the trash. As soon as you were out of sight, Dean let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his body slumping slightly as the tension and guilt gnawed at him.

A week had passed since that tense evening, but for Dean, the feelings that had been stirred up during that conversation hadn’t faded. If anything, they had only intensified. Every time you were near him, it was like a live wire of tension ran between you, sparking whenever you accidentally brushed against him or stood just a little too close. It was as if his body was reacting on its own, a rush of heat flooding through him that he couldn’t control, no matter how hard he tried.

The situation had become unbearable. Every glance, every casual touch, made it harder for Dean to keep his composure. He found himself avoiding you whenever possible, staying out late to work on the Impala, or finding excuses to leave the bunker for supplies or to do some research at a local library. He couldn’t let you see how much you were affecting him, how close he was to losing control.

But today, it all came to a head.

Sam, ever the one to suggest a way to unwind, had floated the idea of hitting a local bar to blow off some steam. Dean jumped at the chance, desperate for anything that might distract him from the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He needed to drink, needed to drown out the thoughts that kept circling back to you.

As Sam and Dean discussed the idea in the library, you overheard their conversation and joined them, your eyes lighting up at the prospect of getting out of the bunker for a bit. “Can I come too?”, you asked, a hopeful smile on your face. “I have a fake ID, so no worries there”.

Sam shrugged, clearly seeing no problem with it. “Sure, why not? It could be fun, and we could all use a break”.

But Dean wasn’t as quick to agree. The idea of you coming along, of being in a bar where the atmosphere was already charged with alcohol and proximity, made his stomach twist with anxiety. He knew how he reacted around you in the safe confines of the bunker—how much worse would it be with a few drinks in him and you looking the way you did? It was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking between you and Sam, searching for an excuse to say no. “I don’t know…”, he started, trying to keep his voice steady. “Maybe it’s not the best idea”.

You frowned, clearly disappointed by his reluctance. “Why not? I’m not a kid, Dean. I can handle a night out”.

Sam glanced at Dean, noticing the tension in his brother’s posture, but he didn’t seem to grasp the full extent of what was going on. “Come on, Dean. It’s just one night. Let her come with us. It’ll be fun”.

Dean wanted to argue, to come up with some reason why you should stay behind, but the look on your face stopped him. Dean knew that if he pushed too hard, it would only make things worse, make you more determined to prove you could handle it.

With a resigned sigh, Dean finally nodded, though his expression remained tight. “Fine. But you´ll behave”.

You nodded eagerly, a smile spreading across your face as you grabbed your jacket. “Deal”.

Dean forced a tight smile, but inside, his mind was already racing, trying to figure out how he was going to keep himself in check. He couldn’t afford to let things get out of hand tonight, couldn’t afford to slip up in front of you or Sam.

As the three of you headed out of the bunker and made your way to the bar, Dean couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that tonight might push him closer to the edge than he was ready to go. The thoughts he’d been wrestling with, the emotions he’d been trying to suppress, were all bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over if he wasn’t careful.

When you arrived at the bar, the place was already buzzing with energy. The low hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter, creating a lively atmosphere. Dean found himself instinctively scanning the room.

Sam led the way to a table near the back, where the three of you settled in. Almost immediately, Sam flagged down a waitress and ordered a round of drinks. Dean tried to focus on the conversation, tried to relax and enjoy the night, but every time you shifted in your seat, every time your arm brushed against his, it sent a jolt of awareness through him that he couldn’t ignore.

When the drinks arrived, you raised your glass with a grin, clearly excited to be part of the evening. “Here’s to a night off”, you said, your eyes sparkling as you clinked your glass against theirs.

Dean managed a smile, but the alcohol in his glass felt like both a blessing and a curse. He knew it would help take the edge off, but he also knew it might lower the barriers he’d worked so hard to keep up.

As the night wore on, the drinks kept coming, and the atmosphere grew more relaxed. Sam was in his element, laughing and talking with ease, but Dean found it harder and harder to keep his focus. Every time you laughed, every time you leaned in closer to say something to him, it felt like a test of his self-control. The warmth of your body, the scent of your hair—it was all too much.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to hold himself together, Dean knew he needed a break. He couldn’t sit there any longer, couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 3

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan

#jensen ackles #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #taking her in

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 months ago

Note

Hey! I was hoping you could write something for Marc Spector/Fem! Reader (all 3 boys) where the reader unknowingly does something which upsets the boys, and they kinda pull away, but after the reader keeps asking them about it, they spill (Maybe Marc would feel bad about being upset yada yada yada).

Yooooo, my HEART! What are you trying to do to me? (affectionate)

Pull Away

Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: PG pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Summary: Headcanons of when there's an unintentional upset with the Moon Boys.

A/N: I've changed this a little, sorry! I hope that's okay, it sort of went and did it's own thing.

There some talk of OCD. I have OCD, and only found out quite recently that people with autism and adhd are a little more likely to develop OCD than someone who doesn’t. (You’re also more likely to develop it if you have other mental illnesses, like depression/anxiety etc.) Obviously, this is just my own little headcanon but the layout of Steven’s flat does remind me of my OCD hoarder tendencies, while Marc’s minimalism makes me think of how when I was a very young adult I tried to ‘cure’ my ‘messiness’ by going so minimal it was like I had nothing. (Spoiler: it not only didn’t work but made me very sad.)

Warnings: Marc being sad and not so good with his feelings, swearing, a little bickering, OCD talk, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 995

I feel like Marc doesn’t like expressing himself very much, especially when it’s a ‘negative’ emotion.

Which means he’ll bottle it up and self internalise it.

This becomes a problem, because even if you do little things that you have no intention of upsetting him, he won’t tell you when you do them. Which means you’re gonna do them again. And he’ll get upset again. And it’ll just go around and around in a vicious circle.

So much so that he’ll start getting a bit resentful that you’re still doing it, even though he knows logically there is no way for you to know that it’s upsetting him.

So the internalsion and beating himself up will turn into him being very low, and quiet and giving you the silent treatment.

Now, he’s not trying to give you the Silent Treatment ™ as a punishment, he just worries about his own reactions (terrified of ever raising his voice in anger to you, or having any kind of disagreement, let alone argument) so he thinks it’s best if he doesn’t talk, doesn’t interact with you.

He tends to fade back and let Jake or Steven front most of the time.

“Where’s Marc? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Love.” “He’s well, Amor.”

But neither of them really knows, they are just trying to comfort and reassure you because, in all honesty, they don’t know either.

He’s giving them the silent treatment too.

If you do something to upset Steven, unintentionally or not, he’s telling you. He’ll try not to let it bother him, try to not tell you, but all that lasts the grand total of 2.6 seconds.

“Love, can you not do that, please? It’s just it upsets me, yeah?” He’ll fiddle with his hands a little if he thinks it’s a ‘silly’ thing.

But’ll smile when you say of course. He’ll also talk about it in more detail, happy to explain why something bothers him, even if he’s not 100% sure. (He’ll start talking about his physical reactions, “it’s just when you touch that part of my back that way it feels all funny, like I want to be sick.”)

If it’s something that is more to do with an ‘unhealthy reaction’ that’s bothering him (OCD talk here) then he’s also open to discussing it when you prompt him.

“Why don’t you want the cups here?”

“Because they don’t go there?”

“Okay, is this a ‘they don’t go there because this is the best place for ‘or a ‘they go there in this way or something bad will happen?’”

“Erm… the second one.”

“Okay.” Lots of hugs and reassurance. “Do you want to put them somewhere different to fight the OCD?”

“No. But let’s.”

Jake is a little more likely to stew a little when he’s upset than Steven, but he normally will come and speak with you very quickly after taking a small breath.

“Amor, please do not do that.”

You know when something really bothers him because he speaks completely blankly. There’s no emotion and his eyes look empty, as if he’s glazed over. It’s part of his defence mechanism.

When he’s like this you try to speak as calmly and softly as you can. You once turned a bit quickly when he spoke to look at him and his flinch nearly broke your heart.

He knows you wouldn’t strike him, but he can’t fight the muscle memory.

You offer physical contact by holding your arms out to your sides (not in front of you) so that he can initiate it if he wants. Which 99% of the time he does.

He doesn’t like to speak about the reasons something is bothering him until later, after he’s calmed and his heart has stopped racing. Sometimes this takes a few minutes, other times hours or even days before he feels ready.

He started to write whatever bothered him, summarising it in a sentence on a scrap piece of paper and pins it to the fridge to let you know he will talk to you about it and that he wants to. He just needs time.

When Marc has been hiding for a while he starts to feel guilty about it more and more, which only makes him want to stay away from the front even more as well.

Steven tells him off for sulking.

Jake tries to reason with him.

In the end, Marc only fronts when he feels ready.

Very rarely does he tell you what was wrong. Mainly because it doesn’t want to bother you with it.

Sometimes if you do something he doesn’t like and Steven or Jake are close enough to the front they will be the ones to tell you.

“Marc doesn’t like that.”

Marc gets moody with his headmates for ‘speaking for him’.

“Not like you were gonna do it yourself mate, was it? No. You were gonna go and piss off and sulk.”

“Steven,” Jake is ever the voice of reason, can feel how Marc bristles underneath their skin. “Marc needs time sometimes, you know that.”

“Yeah, but he’s got to learn to communicate too. Can’t be bloody trying to get everyone to read his mind and then getting upset.”

It starts a bit of a heated discussion that you can’t hear.

But you do notice how Marc tenses up.

“Hey,” you nudge your arm into his softly and smile when he looks up at you. “I won’t do it again, okay?”

He smiled weakly and nods, taking your hand in his and playing with your fingers. “I’ll try to tell you what’s going on more…”

“It’s okay,” you pause, “You know what? How about when I do something that’s upsetting you don’t have to speak, or explain if you don’t want to, but just let me know by signing? That way I won’t do it again.”

Marc nods and you teach him the sign language for stop in your language.

It works well for you both.

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

@steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings @spxctorsslxt

@novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#marc spector #moon knight #moon knight mcu #marc spector x reader #x reader #marc spector x you #x you #marc spector x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #marc spector x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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slutt4ellie · 7 months ago

Text

Hearts Over Hierarchy

Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader

masterslist

PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4

Do opposites really attract?

Summery : When you run into a girl who rarely makes acknowledgment she even exists, there’s something that undoubtedly draws you to her..and a spark is created.

Warnings -> / Weed usage / Reader is confused about her feelings? / Ellie’s also confused about her feelings (ig?) / Just full loser Ellie / Really brief Skater!Ellie / eventual smut (probably) / fluff / tension / Little bits of smau / Toxic friendship / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 4.8k (longest fic i’ve ever wrote!)

(Not proofread!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes like 2 seconds 🩷)

(Ellie)

The loud buzzing of Ellie’s alarm shoots her eyes open and her body halfway up. “F-fuck” She grumbles under her muffled voice. Running her right hand down her face.

Ellie grabs the alarm rested on her left bedside table and she’s finally met with the time 9:36am. “Oh fuck” Ellie says quickly stands up out of her single bed, planted in the corner of her single bedroom dorm. Classes start at 9:45. She has a total of 9 minutes to get dressed, leave her dorm, and run onto campus. Which has her leading to the fact there’s almost 0 fucking way she’s making it on time.

Since Ellie’s already up and out of her bed she runs to her dresser to throw on a pair of boxers and a sports bra which is almost instantly covered by “clean” sweat pants and a nike hoodie. It didn’t smell bad so it was fine!

4 minutes, it only took Ellie 4 minutes to get changed and grabbed her skateboard. She also glances over at the time as it now reads now reads 9:40. So this means her time isn’t “horrible” I mean getting ready in 4 minutes is sorta impressive, at least in her mind? Plus campus shouldn’t take that long, as long as she’s fast.

Ellie grabs her skateboard and leaves her dorm quickly running down the stairs, having basically 0 time to wait around and sit there like a duck for the elevator. And as soon as she’s met with concrete she’s off.

The reason why Ellie being late is such a fucking hassle is because she’s already been late a fair share of times building a reputation for it, when she walks into class and shit it doesn’t go without dirty looks. But it’s a new school year, so she’s tryna live by the corny ass saying “new year new me!” and actually not miss half the classes like last term.

(You)

You’re up early, 8:00 to be exact. You quietly leave your bedroom trying not to wake up the rest of your sorority sisters as you tiptoe through the halls. And just as you thought you were clear, a pair of blue eyes are met with yours.

Emily your best friend since freshman year. You two were like glue through high school, nothing could separate the two of you, sure you had fights and disagreements but nothing seemed like it could break the bond between you two..

As you meet her blue eyes you quickly notice her lips turning into a light smirk. “Why the fuck are you tiptoeing like we’re in a fucking Tom and Jerry episode?” You let out a pity laugh and smile “Oh ha ha…! Maybe because i’m nice and I didn’t wanna wake up all you guys?”

Emily smiles right back at you. “Why are you up so fucking early, thought your class started at 9:45?” You nod your head agreeing with her statement. “It does. I just wanted to be on top of it you know!” Emily shakes her head. “No I don’t fucking know? I don’t wake up a full hour and 45 minutes before my classes.”

You smile, you could ask her why she’s up but you already know her class starts at 8:30 (ew.) so going through more questions seems unethical. “Well!” You trail off then pick back up where you ended. “I need to have a shower sooo” Emily nods and goes back to her room “Yeah yeah!”

꧁✵★✵꧂

The steam fills your bathroom and the air is still warm from your lingering shower.

It was weird today. You don’t usually feel nervous for school, I mean you knew people, people knew you. There was literally nothing for you to feel even the slightest bit of tenseness. Yet it was still just there.?

Your just blaming it on basic nerves, you’re not really “excited” to get back into the grove of school, get a ton of work in before due dates which are are way to fucking fast. But either way you knew you had to suck it up so you pushed yourself out those doors and into your car.

Right on time 9:30. It should only take 10 minutes to drive onto campus and that leaves you with about 5 minutes before the lecture starts. At least that’s what you fucking planned.

But just to your luck. There was an incident, nothing serious. Just ending up backing up the roads. And any fucking other day you wouldn’t have really cared. But you really could not afford to be late on your first day back. You wanted to make sure you’re on top of everything, and the walk of shame into the classroom is probably one of the worst things person could every fucking experience.

Once you make it on campus you speed walk through the halls cutting through people just trying to get to your door. Then everything will be fine and normal, you won’t have to worry about how stup-

A hard thud goes straight into your back

You heard about 3 things fall flat on the ground none of the things being yours. And as shitty as it seems, you were genuinely considering walking away just to get to fucking class..

You’re not a complete dick and you were raised better. So this leads you to reluctantly turn around and your met with? Well you don’t exactly know, she looks familiar but maybe she’s a year younger so you don’t often see her. She has brunet- no, auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles that go all around her face. She looks familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.

You look down and notice a binder, a now slightly cracked phone and skateboard which finally you make the decision to crouch down. The auburn hair girl is mumbling a bunch of sorry’s “F-fuck that’s on me. I-i’m like super late? So I was looking down and sh-“ You cut her off and shake your head picking up her phone and binder as she picks up her skateboard. “You’re good..Fuck I’m late too.” You chuckle looking at her as you stand up, quickly handing her the items she dropped on the ground.

You give out your hand to shake “I’m-“ and as your about to say your name, you’re cut off by her voice “N-no I know you, you sat in front of me last term” You don’t know what really led you to say the next part but what else were you going to say?? You didn’t notice her once, lying seemed like a better approach. “Right! Um what was it…A- no H?” You notices how her eyebrows furrow, the fact you definitely don’t know her name is becoming apparent.

“I-uh Ellie” She shakes your hand.

“Yeah! I was getting there!” You smile looking back at her before talking again.

“We’re you?” She tilts her head talking in a tone laced with a joking sound..just from her demeanour alone you can tell she was kidding.

“I was..” You shift your gaze down to her lips then back up. You weren’t trying to be weird or anything, you just did it on instinct which now on the contrary seems a tad bit creepy since this is literally your first time even talking to her.

Once you meet her eyes again you nervously cleared your throat and starting talking once again. “Well what room are you!”

Ellie notices the quick change of subject and she nervously shakes her head “U-uhh fuck 217 I think…?” You nod and look at her “Fuck, okay shit me too?” Your voice stops then picks back up “Want to walk?”

Ellie perks up and nods. It kept playing in the back of her mind why the fuck you were talking to her. Ellie wasn’t popular, not your level of popularity. Everyone knew you. So the fact you were standing in front of her, talking to her. She was almost confused. Yet she wasn’t complaining..

It only took a few minutes before you reached the classroom door, as you check your phone you see you’re a bit late. Nothing to complain about, it’s only 9:47 so who cares..?

When opening the doors your eyes lock with the seats in the back left corner, there open, and no one is sitting in them. You look at Ellie who seems nervous.

Little do you know in her mind she’s wondering where the fuck she’s going to sit.

The only single seats are in the middle of like 5 fucking people.

Once you notices her eyes are scanning the room and her whole face is plastered with a nervous expression you nudge her lightly.

“Wanna sit over there” You point your finger and her eyes quickly follow it.

She seems confused. Like her brain just did a 360 but she stutters over her words when talking back to you. “Y-you wanna s-sit together?”

“Yeah?” You smile and let out a chuckle.

“R-right! Yeah- Yeah we can sit over there.” She smiles and nods looking at you.

As you sit down your phone buzzes in your left pocket not wasting much time to pull it out. There’s one message Emily. Asking if you made it okay and stuff. Which leads to a mini conversation.

You couldn’t help but feel almost icked out? Emily’s not usually rude so her response was weird, and out of character. You wanted to believe maybe she was making a statement or something but you replied regardless.

She was being so strange, like not her usual self. Which lead your eyebrows to furrow and you were abo-

“You okay?” Ellie’s voice says softly probably noticing the fact your eyebrows are furrowed and your face now showing clear signs of annoyance.

“O-oh yeah!” you reply now embarrassed as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “Just one of my friends, i’m good though!”

Ellie nods and smiles. “Okay, just wanted to make sure?”

You haven’t really met anyone like Ellie. I guess other then Emily? But it still took months to feel comfortable with her. With Ellie it seems almost easy? Like fast?

Your whole friend group is popular. Which wasn’t horrible? The benefits of being popular is nice? Sorta.. But unfortunately half of your “friend group” is fake.

Talking behind peoples back kinda fake.

You tried not to let it bug you though, you had people in your friend group you obviously loved, so you would just stick in that crowd.

But there was always some anxiety which came with it. Like you didn’t know if things you said would get passed around, so when talking to Ellie, knowing nothing had the chance of somehow going to anyone, else it was refreshing.

The class was finally fucking over and you packed up your laptop and papers.

As you were about to leave you said a quick bye to Ellie trying to be respectful. You didn’t wanna ask for her number because you didn’t want to come across as weird, you two just met? So that could wait?

As you turned around there was a quick “wait!” which was clearly from Ellie.

You just turned around trying to read her expression but as you were she cut off your train of thought. “C-can I uh get your number! I was thinking we could maybe study or something. This math s-shit is like kicking my ass” After her sentence there was a dry awkward chuckle. The fact you didn’t immediately respond worried her

Did she come off as weird?

To pushy?

You’re popular why the fuck-

“Yeah!” You smile walking back over to her.

“Are you busy right now? We can go back to my place and study if you want” You say not breaking eye contact.

Ellie quickly breaks the eye contact handing you her phone before she clears her throat. “W-no! no i’m not busy, right now is good actually” Her voice cracks in the middle of the sentence leading her to clear her throat once again.

You grab her slightly cracked phone and nod..

“K cool, it’s not a long drive and my cars out in the front lot.”

In a car

With you.

Great!

꧁✵★✵꧂

Saying the car ride is awkward is an understatement? Reason number one, you don’t know what to say because you literally just met Ellie.

I mean you’re alright on small talk but what the fuck do you say to someone you met a solid 2 hours ago?

And on the other hand Ellie is Ellie.

She can’t pick up on small talk for the life of her. So when you finally speak it almost feels like a blessing and a curse.

“Sorry about you phone?” You say, both hands still on the steering wheel as you drive.

“Huh?” Fuck this is awkward.

“Your phone, it’s cracked. Sorry?” You say a smile cracking.

“I ran head first into your bag I’m pretty sure that’s on me” Ellie chuckles looking at you as you drive.

“I guess, but maybe if I was walking faster it wouldn’t have happened!” You say glancing over at her before you turn your eyes back to the road.

Ellie’s face turns a light pink as soon as you made split eye contact with her. She’s silently now thanking ever fucking god in the universe that you turned your head before you could notice.

“Maybe but I think that was a sign I shouldn’t walk with my head down” Ellie let’s out a slight laugh.

The silence falls once again neither of you knowing what to says.

“D-“

“Sor-“

Both of speak at the same time a dry chuckle coming from both your lips.

“You go.” Ellie says nodding.

“I was just going to say sorry for not noticing you?” You say clearing your throat anxiously.

“What do you mean?” Ellie says tilting her head still looking at your side profile.

“Like- I sat in front of you for months you know?.. just the fact I didn’t noticed you makes me feel like an egotistical prick?” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your left hand.

Ellie shakes her head at your response. “No! Fuck I barley talked, trust me, you not noticing doesn’t make me have hard feelings” Ellie says quickly, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty for anything.

You just smile at her response and nod. “What we’re you going to say?” She quickly talks “Just gonna ask do you get what the fuck is going on in class”

You quickly laugh and shake your head “Fuck no! I’m actually so ass at math your gonna have to walk me through it.” Ellie smiles and nods. “What makes you think i’m gonna be good at it!” She says with a chuckle.

“Well you have to be good at it because we’re official study partners!” You say before nodding your head. “Official??” Ellie smiles

“Oh yeah, official” You nod and continue nervously. “We’re uh here!” You park the car in front of your sorority.

“I never been to a fucking sorority” Ellie says getting out of the car with her backpack in hand. “No?” You say looking at her. “Nah” She shakes her head “They feel cult-ish?” She laughs causing you to smile and look at her “So you’re joining my cult then?”

“Guess soo” She drags out her ‘so’ dramatically before walking to the two big white doors which leads into the sorority house.

You and Ellie studied for a few hours. Looking outside the sky was now dark. Rather then the bright blue it shined before.

You guys studying was basically just an excuse to talk, you got to know a lot about each other. Ellie opened up to you, you opened up to her.

You haven’t ever had a friendship where you got so comfortable so fast. It’s like the fact you guys met a solid few hours ago, it was completely disregarded. It’s like you connected so fucking fast.

You learned Ellie had two close friends Dina and Jesse. They didn’t go to the same school as you and her, instead they went to one about 30 minutes out. You “learned” she’s painfully shy, which you already got the message as soon as she ran into you.

She let it slip she actually debated talking to you last term but you seemed extremely intimidating which you laughed at. But she was standing her ground, saying like you gave off a bit of scary vibes.

“Okay scary?” You replied laughing

“Scary!” She says looking at you. Both of your guys studying papers are far from filled out, almost completely empty. But to be fair that’s the last thing on your mind.

“I need one fucking example from when I was being ‘scary’” You say defensively looking at her. The two of you are crisscrossed on your queen bed a bit to close considering how much space the both of you had. Both of your knees touching.

“K well- I don’t have a fucking time list of all the times I thought you seemed scary!” Ellie says shaking her head looking at you.

Your hand instinctively falls on her knee “I’m asking for ONE example!” You made sure to emphasize the word one. To point out it was really fucking easy.

Ellie’s whole face heats up and she feels like her body’s on fire causing her to stutter over almost ever other word “I-I d-don’t know l-like one t-time I heard you talking about h-how you were ‘gonna murder him’” She says chuckling to mask the nervousness that’s coursing through her veins.

You try to recall when you said this, it suddenly clicking “Okay wait! No there’s context!” You chuckle and now both of you are closer. It’s like each time a sentence is said, you’re moving further in.

“What fucking context could there be!” Ellie spits out laughing, which causes you to laugh harder.

“I was talking about some dick who used one of my friends!” You laugh your head falling onto Ellie’s shoulder.

“I guess that’s fair?” Ellie’s voice gets quieter. You can her heart beat which to say it’s fast. That’s would be an understatement.

You pull your head off her shoulder and look at her. Her face is pretty pink and you feel like you can ever little detail that revolves around her face. One thing about seeing ever detail, it had a result of your faces being mere inches from each others.

You don’t even know what the fuck led you to do this but you slowly guided your left hand to cuff Ellie’s cheek which now has the both of you to instinctively lean in.

Ellie does the same, manly following your lead as her hand also goes onto your cheek and now your noses brush against each other.

And just as your lips were about to touch a knock hits right against your door.

You and Ellie both quickly flinch back clearing your throat nervously.

You get up faster then her and the person behind the door is no other then Emily. You hadn’t texted her since the whole weird ass messages she sent a few hours ago.

Ellie’s thoughts are now going all over the place. Because you two almost just kissed, a knock breaks it up..and now there’s a girl who in her mind, is way better looking!

Ellie doesn’t wanna think it, but the fact you might have a girlfriend is lurking in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised to say the least.

“Hey” Emily says eyeing Ellie who is now putting her papers back into her backpack nervously, her hands fumbling over each sheet..

“Hi..?” You say looking at Emily. She’s eyeing Ellie with a look you haven’t noticed before. And as you were going to say something along the lines of “Do you need something” but Emily’s voice talks over your thoughts.

“Can we talk” She says now meeting your eyes.

“I mean I have someone ove-“ But before you can finish your sentence Ellie intervenes. “It’s- It’s fine i’m heading out anyway. You know it’s dark..? So?”

“I- uh, alright. You want me to drive you?” You say looking at Ellie which she almost instantly shakes her head “I’m not tryna be a burden i’ll just skate back, my dorms on campus…so i’ll uh, i’ll be chill..” Ellie says grabbing her skateboard which was planted in your room. Right after Ellie grabs her skateboard she already is almost out of the door. But you quickly talk.

“Just text me when you get to your dorm, so I know you got back safe and shit.” You say softly.

And just like that she’s gone, and your standing awkwardly in a room with Emily. When the front door finally shuts she got the sudden urge to talk. “Ellie?”

You nod confused. “Uh- yeah..? We were just studying…”

Emily nods looking at you. “Why though?”

“Sorry..?” You say now even more confused then you were previously.

“Like why hang out with her?” Emily says looking at you.

You think she’s joking so you laugh sarcastically “Fuck off?”

“I’m being for real, Williams, she’s like weird dude... That’s literally all anyone talked about when she was in my class.” Emily now chuckles and you shake your head.

“She’s not even weird?” You say defensively. “Have you talked to her?”

Emily shakes her head fast “I don’t wanna fucking talk to her?? Like I said she’s weird.”

You’ve never seen Emily act so blatantly rude, like she had her own opinions but she knew whether or not she should announce them. Plus! She’s never even met Ellie yet she’s judging her so easily with no second thought. You tried to push it behind you, trying to end the conversation with a quick “I gotta go to bed so. We can talk later.”

Emily scoffs “Great! Now you’re fucking being weird!”

“Im not even being weird! You’re just being rude, i’m not gonna listen you talk shit about someone you haven’t even had a conversation with!”

Emily just shakes her head “I’m hardly talking shit shit. I’m just saying what I heard, fuck.” The fact she’s trying to justify her shitty behaviour and actions just makes you more annoyed.

“K great talk Emily. I gotta get sleep” You say before shutting the door with a hard slam as Emily gets out of your room.

It’s been a few weeks since that whole situation, Emily’s been okay? She apologized and shit but everything is still a bit tense?.. Like she lets out mini sighs when you say your going to hang out with Ellie.

You assumed this was because maybe she felt left out, but every time you even attempted to ask her she always shook her head and replied with “Eh sorta busy with homework”

So you dropped in, she was clearly going through some weird ass phase with you new friendship and you just wanted her to push through with it. You didn’t feel like guiding Emily through it all.

And then on the other hand

Ellie

neither of you mentioned what happened in your room that night, or what almost happened? It wasn’t relevant, some friends almost kiss! You two almost kissed…? And it was nothing important.

Not something to jeopardize your new friendship. So you dropped it. And you internally prayed she would too.

Ellie on the other hand. She was thinking about the moment constantly, like it was a virus infiltrating every single free fucking thought she had. She doesn’t know if the blue eyed girl was your girlfriend, but at the end of the day she didn’t wanna push the subject. You hadn’t talked about it so it wasn’t something she was willing to bring up. Seemed better to drop it!

And here you are, laying down on your bed extremely bored with nothing to fucking do. Your mind was just wondering, thinking about class, school, Elli-

There’s buzzing coming from your bedside table and you quickly grab you phone.

Ellie.

You laughed at your phone. Ellie’s jokes were actually so bad it made them funny. You kept texting her no plan of stopping, but then she tells you she has a little something!

You smile at her messages quickly following up by closing your phone. You didn’t waste time to grab you car keys quickly leaving your sorority house.

꧁✵★✵꧂

The car ride wasn’t all that bad, it was nice knowing that you’ll get to be with Ellie again. Plus it was literally only 10 minutes so when you get there you quickly park and rush to the campus dorms.

As you go into the building you take the left to the elevators, shortly entering before you click floor 2.

As it stops and the doors open and you lead yourself to Ellie’s dorm which you’ve now been in a few times.

After knocking it literally doesn’t take long before she answers..her hairs messy, a few strands down her face and she gives you a quick smile. One thing you instantly noticed was the strong scent of weed that exits her room. “You’ve been busy” you say sarcastically giving her a quick smile.

Her eyes are red and she’s clearly faded. “Soooo busy!” She says sarcastically before it’s followed by yet another smile.

You go into her room and sit on her little single bed that’s planted right in the corner of her bedroom.

She passes you an already lit joint which you take a drag from.

“I wanna ask you something?” Ellie says as she takes the joint back.

You nod letting out a short “hm?”

“You obviously don’t have to say yes” she starts dragging her words a mix of nervousness and being high.

“Okay..?” You say nodding, you don’t know what she’s gonna ask but either way you’re nervous.

“Jesse and Dina, they rent cabin every year. And like my not tryna really third wheel so I was wondering…if maybe like-?” Ellie says shifting her gaze down into her lap.

“When is it?” You ask looking at her.

Ellie’s almost surprised you didn’t immediately turn it down so she quickly clears her throat. “Fuck sorry- It’s in a week. You don’t have to com-“

“Yeah I’ll come?” You say, the high now finally clicking in. Ellie’s heart is skipping right now but she quickly pushes it down.

You two are fucking friends. Just friends.

“Sick. O-okay cool. I’ll just like text you everything you’ll need and shit. And it’s like an hour drive so me, you, Jesse and Dina can all just like fucking drive together.”

“Okay cool!” You smile.

You and Ellie. Are going to a cabin together.

Nothing to be nervous about…!

———————————————————

A/N -> Hii! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I already have a full plot layout for the second one.

This might only be two parts simply because I might be able to fit everything I want with enough detail in just a singular part.

I plan on adding some angst in the next chapter ☹️ (so ig be ready for that!)

I also wanna really emphasize Emily is not homophobic! 😭

I was reading some of this chapter and it sorta seemed implied she was at least a little homophobic, calling Ellie “Weird” and shit, but it’s not because Ellie gay! I’m pretty sure most people might be able to clue on why she’s not to fond of Reader and Ellie’s ‘friendship’ but that’ll be for the next chapter.

I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @cyb3rd0nguh @graviewaviee

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artdcnaldson · 4 months ago

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omg the art’s sister au update…

New tennis player boyfriend is nice but he doesn’t make you feel any sparks (and the fact he just happens to be a tennis player wirh green eyes and black hair is a coincidence). But he is nice. Helps out your grandma and teaches tennis to little kids in the country club and isn’t a bad player himself. Could actually go pro if he wanted, but his goals are settling down and starting a family…fun. Anyway you tell yourself it could be worse.

WRONG. It’s worse when Thanksgiving is around the corner and Art’s back home from tour but with Patrick. Something about some disagreement with his parents, anyway Patrick does not want to be spending time with them so instead he is here at your house.

You avoid him at all costs, which shouldn’t be too hard considering he is here with Art and made it clear he doesn’t like you. But he seems desperate to have conversations with you, ask about your life. Almost as if he’s trying to turn back the clock and have everything go back to how it was before. He gives you these longing glances and seems to glare at your boyfriend. The worst part is that you want to have these conversations just forgive him and let him back into your life with open arms. But you fight the urge to do so.

And somehow for that one week, you’re able to avoid him as much as possible. You’re relieved by the time Black Friday comes around, you’re home alone with your grand-mother having some shopping and Art and Patrick going along with her for help.

You need to blow off steam, so you invite your boyfriend over. You have the house to yourself for couple of hours, so you don’t really think twice about how you straddle him on the living room couch and grind against him. You desperately want more, but good girls don’t do that! And your boyfriend sucks at this thing so you’re basically doing overtime to get both of you off, and you’re just so distracted you don’t even see him come in.

Patrick who decided to come back home a bit earlier to talk to you about what happened back on tour, walks in on you grinding on your boyfriend. He is so quiet you don’t even notice him at first. But when you do you both just lock eyes as you continue. Your boyfriend who’s back is facing Patrick has no clue.

He feels jealous but also oddly turned on. Kinda amazed your boyfriend is just sitting there, when he would be going insane in his position. And well you’re turned on as well, so you continue as well. (and if patrick decides to jerk off to the sight, then its nobody’s business besides yours and his)

- 🫀

So sorry… this had to cook in the drafts for a while. FINALLY!!! MORE ART’S SISTER AU!! I know y’all have been asking for it :)

<3 anyways

Your boyfriend is Nice. He’s a good boy, really upstanding. You probably should love him, like, really love him, but you don’t. Maybe you can, if you wait long enough, if you try hard enough to forget about Patrick.

It really should be easy! You stop talking about Patrick when you call Art to check in about the tour, stop looking for his matches online. You slowly check off boxes with your boyfriend— jerk him off, grind against him while you make out, let him play with your tits. He tries to finger you, once. It doesn’t go well, you fake it five minutes in.

It’s just your luck that Patrick comes to stay for Thanksgiving, that he’s just in the next door over, sleeping on a blow up mattress on Art’s bedroom floor. Just your luck that you have to brush past him to reach for food in the pantry, or scoot next to him to brush your teeth in the morning. It’s fine. You can ignore him! You’ve been ignoring him for a while now.

Except Patrick seeks you out on purpose— he talks to you like he didn’t brush you off, like he hadn’t rebuffed your interest in him like it meant absolutely nothing. He asks you about your boyfriend, Tim— a name that he repeats with a fucking sneer. He asks about if you’re working, if you’re happy being home, if you miss traveling with him and Art.

“No,” you lie. “I like being here. I don’t want to be too far from Tim, so…” It nauseates him. He knows you’re lying, it just seems like you’re trying to make a point.

It all comes to a head the day after Thanksgiving, the day after a tense dinner and mumbled conversations and tension so thick you could have choked on it. Your grandmother was shopping, Art and Patrick offered to help, and you were alone in the house and so pent up you could scream.

Tim comes over, expects to watch Christmas movies or something stupid like that. His eyes widen when you move into his lap and kiss him hungrily, desperately. You never kissed him like that, but you needed it bad— needed an outlet for your frustration and need and angst.

Tim blushes when you pull your top off, glances around nervously to ask if anyone’s going to be home soon. His back’s to the door, so he feels even more on edge. “We’re fine,” you insist, and press your lips to his again. He groans as you grind against the bulge in his khakis, mumbles about you moving too fast, that you need to slow down. It’s white noise. “Shut up, Tim. Let me do this—“

Tim doesn’t fight back. Doesn’t bite the way Patrick can. You grind down against him harder, whimpering at the feeling of him hard and pressing against you through your thin pajama shorts. The door opens, not that Tim notices. Patrick is alone, carrying a bag from Macy’s in his hand, obviously having grown bored of the mall.

And you don’t stop— he’s the one who turned you down, he could’ve had this, had you. You keep your gaze locked on him as you move against your fucking boyfriend, whose name is the furthest thing from your mind. His hands are dead weight against your hips— he doesn’t even grab your ass. He doesn’t fucking do anything. He’s like a cardboard box made human, you don’t even know why you’ve wasted your fucking time when there’s Patrick.

Patrick who hasn’t looked away, Patrick who’s wearing a stupid fucking grin when he notices you speed up, notices the way your mouth falls open so pretty and pink inside, notices that you’re close.

You cum suddenly, hips stuttering as you ride it out, crying out the only name on your mind. “Fuck— Patrick—“

Tim freezes. You do too.

#oomfie #art’s sister au #teehee!

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year ago

Note

could you continue on the story you had for the poor hero x millionaire villain?

pt. 1

The villain sat down reluctantly. Although their concern and regret seemed to be genuine, the hero wasn’t able to accept this.

“I appreciate it. I do.” They reached for a second cup and watched as the water started to boil. “But it’s fine. I wouldn’t even accept a cent from you. It’s not personal. It’s not to torture you.”

“Well, you are torturing me,” the villain said.

“I don’t mean to.”

“But you are.” The hero turned around and looked at their nemesis.

“Black coffee?” they asked gently, ignoring how the villain scrutinised them tragically. The villain went with a hand through their hair, sighing in defeat. They nodded. “Turkish?”

“Yes.”

“I know you’re trying to manipulate me. You’re trying to make me feel bad for not taking the money,” the hero said softly as they poured the steaming hot water into the cups. Their eyes were drawn to the little bubbles that formed on top of the water’s surface.

“Do you think what you’re doing is heroic? Deciding to suffer in poverty when you have the chance to get out of it? Do you think people will admire you for that?” the villain asked. Still focused on the coffee, the hero took both cups and turned around, scared to burn themselves. They walked over to the table, placing one cup in front of the villain, the other in front of themselves. At last, they put a spoon into the villain’s cup.

“I think you could give that money to someone who needs it more than I do,” they said as they sat down. The old chair sighed under their weight, more a result of the chair’s age than the hero’s physical condition.

“Well, I don’t like anyone beside you.” And that was the problem, wasn’t it? The hero took in a deep breath, debating if these feelings were coming from their side, too.

“That’s a little sad,” they whispered. They looked around the small kitchen and truly, they couldn’t remember when they had accepted this kind of life. Saving people was their priority and despite the negative aspects, they enjoyed it. The poverty was a sad side effect and they had just accepted it. It wasn’t optimal, they knew that. But they could be doing a lot worse.

At least they had something. Right?

They’d always thought it didn’t affect them that much, that they could live with it easily.

“And a little intimate. You feel guilty because you fancy me.”

The villain stirred the coffee with the spoon and didn’t answer for a long time. However, the hero saw the soft blush on their cheeks.

“Fancy is a big word.” They put the spoon into the hero’s cup.

And the hero didn’t quite know what to do with that. Sharing this one spoon, this one thing, despite their disagreements on absolutely everything made them long for more of it. More of drinking coffee together, more of talking, more of sharing a spoon. It was silly, but the hero hadn’t realised how isolated they were.

They hadn’t touched anyone in months, except for getting punched a few times. Talking to someone was just as rare as money.

People had turned away from them once this had become normal. Friends, family, colleagues…some had offered money too and then judged them for not taking it.

And the hero had just made their peace with it. God, they were such a fool for thinking poverty wouldn’t make them miserable.

“I’m gonna say this one last time.” The villain had to blow on the coffee before they took a sip. It was still too hot, so they grimaced. “Take the money. Or you won’t get me out of your hair.”

“No,” the hero said. “Give it to someone else. You can’t force me.”

“Oh, I can, little hero. I can.” The villain leaned back casually, studying the hero’s face. “That coffee is shit.”

“What? Are you gonna kidnap me?”

“Tempting. But no. I will buy this house, turn it into a fucking palace and fill your fridge up to the brim every day.”

“I hate you,” the hero said, giving up on protesting. They felt defeated, they were tired of fighting and maybe, maybe they were tired of living like this.

“You wish you did.”

#yes I only drink black coffee in a Turkish kinda way how did you know #it’s the only coffee I know how to make #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #cont’d

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padfootdaredmetoo · 2 years ago

Note

hello I'm so happy that your requests are open because I followed you a long time ago mainly for peaky fics and now I see you write for tangerine as well and I am fixated with tangerine as well so!!! perfect combo. anyway, I would like to request a very angsty fic where tangerine breaks up with reader. like they love each other but can't be with each other type of thing or they have communication issues idk.. I just love angst and you can decide if it has an happy ending or not and the other details 😌 I'm aware mine isn't a very detailed request so of course if you don't feel like it feel free not to do it!! thanks 💝💝💝

Hey Anon,

I am awful at sad endings. Not the best with angst either but I hope this is what you are looking for. I feel like I may have made it too fluffy because I'm having a rough time. Anyway, thank you for waiting a million years!

Warnings: Fighting, rough childhood, angst, fluff, lots of banter, Ready is having a hard time, mentions of abusive ex-boyfriend abusing power and being evil.

____________________________________________________

Watching her sleep he tried to stop himself from slipping away. His walls were starting to come up after the mission they had on the weekend. Having Lemon to worry about was enough of a headache, but now it was public knowledge in his world that you were his.

Better to break things off while it could still be considered a rumor. Who believed anything Ladybug had to say anyway? Stupid git.

You let out a heavy breath as if somehow you were in agreement with his silent conversation. The normally colorful room was dark and he knew it would be his last night in your floral sheets and ridiculously comfortable bed. He just had to let you know that it was his last night.

He considered ghosting you, but naturally, you were too loyal for that. You’d assume the worst and try to save him, risking your job and potentially your life. He groaned lightly as you shifted your warm body against him.

Stupid fucking job. Where were you 15 years ago when this mess started? If he knew this was in the cards he would have held out, and avoided the industry all together. Maybe he would have gone to uni… maybe gone the government route like you did.

This was also the worst possible time to do it. You’d been having issues with your sister, the pressure from your job was crushing you, and to top it all off it was not the best time of the month.

You woke up eventually, long eyelashes fluttering and he soaked up the look of adoration on your face before he broke everything between you and him.

“Sleep well?” You murmured pressing a kiss to his chest.

___________________________________________________________

Reader POV

Tan’s gaze was distant, he’d been strange since he got home. Lemon didn’t come over for takeout after the job was finished, breaking their tradition. There was something heavy on his shoulders and you wanted to take it from him more than anything.

“Tan-” Your voice fell away before you could ask. The look on his face and awkward posture answered your question. Everyone would stay and as soon as you got sad or ran out of things to do for them they left. God forbid you had a disagreement with them, memories of your mother screaming at you to get out flashed in your mind.

“Look, a rumor about us kicked up-” he looked defeated with the slightest bit of frustration etched into his features.

“I understand it’s fine.” You gritted your teeth. All the feelings of safety you normally felt laying next to him turned into acidic disgust. This wasn't something you thought you could do right now. Too much was going on and losing him was enough to make you break down. You just wanted him to leave, you didn't care about whatever story he was going to spin you. It wasn't his fault you ran in opposing circles, and that this relationship was dangerous. It wasn't his fault but anger and grief consumed you.

“Look, I care about you - But I’m worried-” his voice was earnest and it made you angrier that he was trying to baby you.

“About your reputation I get it. I understand. Get out.” You pointed to the door hoping he would get changed and fuck off. You were barely holding yourself together. He told you from the start what type of guy he was. This was your fault and you should be handling it better. Given the jobs you both did this wasn't supposed to be anything more than a fling.

He just got further than anyone else had. That’s what was making this so difficult.

“Oi! Got us some breakfast,” Lemon called from your kitchen and Tan cringed.

“Just get your things and take him with you.” You turned over onto your side.

“This isn't what I want.” He said taking you off guard.

“I’m not what anyone wants. This was a mistake, I get it. Okay, I understand, just leave.” Your voice was straining and you got up and ran to the bathroom, unfortunately for you he caught the door before it could shut.

You turned around and he moved into your space.

“This isn't something you can just throw away.” He was angry now, something so much easier to deal with.

“I wasn’t throwing anyone away! You are throwing me away.” You started shouting.

“I don't want to throw you away. It’s just not safe right now.” He grabbed your shoulders.

“Right now? As in you found someone better for now!”

“That’s bull shit. I can't have you getting killed because of me.”

“You’re bullshit. You said you’d keep me safe. You said you wanted this. To give it a proper go. Now you miss being single and fucking every chick that looks at you because you - ” Your chest was heaving. How many times had you been through this?

“Shut up!” He snapped, cutting you off.

“You shut up. You stupid man.”

“You having a domestic? Food’s getting cold.”

“Fuck off Lemon.” You both said in unison. His eyes glared at you and you stared him down.

“Just leave me. Okay. it’s fine. I’m not - and that’s fine.” You said finally in defeat.

____________________________________________

Tangerine’s POV

All the things he knew about you flew through his mind. He probably should have thought about the guys who’d hurt you. How your mother had thrown you out. What your dad was like.

All of those hurts were so evident in your eyes it killed him.

But what was worse? What you would do to yourself or what would happen if someone were to use you against him?

“What you are going to feel is much better than what will happen if people confirm we are together. I don’t know how it got out. But I can't let you get hurt.”

The tears started to spill and your body sagged enough to finally pull you into his arms. He held you tightly hating the fact that it might be the last time. Scratch that it would be the last time.

Her chest was heaving and her body shaking. He was so angry at the situation, so mad that some other mother fucker would get to move in. Have every part of her.

Would he keep her safe? He hated the feeling growing in him.

“Look it’s really important that you know there isn't anything wrong with you.” This only made her cry more. Eventually he and Lemon left.

“She looked half dead already Tan.” Lemon said as he drove them far away from her flat.

“Can’t let her end up in this.”

“Maybe we could leave? Take her with us.”

These were not the words he was expecting. His duty above everything was to his brother. He was willing to leave you, to keep you safe, and to do right by his brother.

“You would want that?” Tangerine said, his voice getting cold again.

“Would want that a hell of a lot more than dealing with your fucking moping. Plus she was doing better with us around. That’s a pretty rare find.”

He thought about where he found you, how the whole stupid thing started. Called in to have your stalker ex-boyfriend - who was also your boss- killed. Did it free of charge, and couldn't leave you alone after that. Even Lemon preferred your flat.

Stupid woman. If you weren't so high up in government intelligence - maybe he could see a way. But that job also made you just as crooked as he and Lemon were.

“You ready for retirement?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I think you deserve your Bond lady. I’m tired of running into Ladybug on every fu-ck-ing job.”

“This will be the last go.” Lemon gave him a nod. The job took about three months.

Three months and yet no Ladybug. Every job they’d had since the Train he’d shown up at some point. Lemon was obsessed with predicting on when he would pop up and fuck them over, but the mission was completed bug-free. This seemed to irritate Lemon even more.

“Nah Tan I’m telling you that bloody fucker is going to show up.” Lemon was pacing across their room. He fought the urge to blow up at him. Why does it matter if he shows up now, mans been killed, money transfered, story is over. Seeing that Lemon wouldn't let it go he tried to think of a solution.

“Just search it in the requests and see if he’s booked” He finally suggested pouring himself a large drink.

“Oh ho that’s an idea.” Lemon started to ramble as he hacked into their company directory. All Tangerine could think of was you. They had more than enough money to retire, but would you come back? Did you want to give up your job? Would you even be able to look at him long enough to let him explain? This might be the hardest job he’d had yet.

Lemon interrupted his thoughts by saying your name. He hummed in agreement, still not paying attention to whatever Lemon was saying.

“Tan there’s a hit, Ladybug took the job.”

“That’s what we do eh?” Can't blame a man for working.” He took another long sip of whiskey.

“On her - TAN THE HIT WAS PLACED ON HER” Lemon’s voice had an authentic tone of panic and the glass shot out of his hand colliding violently with the wall.

No words needed to be said as they grabbed their shit and ran to the door.

____________________________________________

Reader POV

You were beyond tired. Between stalking Tan and Lemon and the amount of work that was landing on your desk you started to wonder if it was time for a break. In 10 years of service never once did you take a vacation. Not when your boss/boyfriend started abusing you, not when your family left. You just kept on pushing through. But with no loud distractions, there was a thick emptiness growing all around you.

When you thought about feeling relaxed you thought about him. They were always around bickering and fighting, while at the same time looking after you.

You were tired. You were broken. You thought about calling your sister, but she’d gone back to her ex again, meaning that you were no longer speaking. You slammed your fist against the cool stone countertop in your kitchen. You tried to push everything out of your mind but it felt like the world was sending you one giant glaring message. The world really didn't need you.

Trying to keep your mind away from dangerous thoughts you changed into something comfy and turned on a comfort crime drama. Pouring a mug of tea you heard a knock at the door. You grabbed the gun you kept in the top drawer of the island and moved toward the entryway.

Looking through the peephole you hated how badly you wanted to see Tan and Lemon. Sadly it was a man with blonde hair. After a quick moment you recognized him as the guy Lemon always shouted about.

What if he was here to deliver a message?

You clicked the safety off the gun and opened the door.

“Hel-OH” The man put his hands up and gave a charming smile. “I just erm- moved in down the hall and -” The man stumbled through his story with a flirty air despite having a gun pressed to his forehead. His eyes rested on your chest and you fought the urge to spit on him.

“Necklace - it’s nice. Special friend give it to you?” He referenced Tan’s gold chain you still refused to take off.

“Something like that. Ladybug?” You said despite already knowing that was his name.

“Well shit - You with the two psycho fruits then?” You smiled slightly at the nickname. “Thought you looked familiar.”

“Perhaps.”

“No point in formalities then. I got a job to steal some files from your computer.” He smiled brightly. “No guns - see” he opened his jacket and proved to you that he was unarmed. You stepped aside to let him in.

“What files and for who? Tea?” You gestured to the kettle.

______________________________________________________________

Tangerines POV

“The hit was placed days ago. DAYS” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did he think breaking up with you was a smart idea. How many comic books had he read telling him that was a stupid idea?

“Why do you keep letting me make stupid fucking choices eh?” He shouted at Lemon who was driving like a madman going well over the limit.

“Tried telling you not to get involved. She slept with her boss and then had him killed.”

“She liked him well enough - Look, her dad really messed her up, can’t blame her for missing the red flags. The important thing is when she found out he was trafficking those girls she dealt with it.”

He rambled worse than Lemon when he got nervous. Memories of the first night you had met ran through his mind making the pain in his chest triple. His hands were shaking and his head felt like it was splitting in half.

How could he let this happen? Lemon slowed down, but before he could park Tan had already jumped out of the car leaving the door open.

He tried the button on the elevator but it refused to light up so he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. A bell rang out once at the top and Lemon walked out of the elevator.

“Why’d you waste time on the stairs?” He asked as they hurried down the hallway towards your apartment. Once he caught sight of your door he lunged and kicked it clean off its hinges. He heard you scream out and it was like the world had finally stopped spinning. Screaming meant breathing and breathing meant living.

He ran into your living room to find you standing there with your gun up, and Ladybug sipping a mug of tea giving a friendly wave.

“Tan - What the fuck-” You started but he didn’t care this had to end now. He grabbed the mug of tea from the man's hand and threw it at him, starting the brawl.

__________________________

Readers POV

“Are you going to break them up!” You asked as the two men struggled against each other.

“Nah” Lemon came to stand close to you. “He’s had an ass-kicking waiting for him for ages.”

You watched as Tan spilled his blood all over your plush carpet.

“Ladybug started the rumor that you and Tan were a thing. Probably harmless, just trying to get under our skin. But you should have seen him when we found out he accepted a job on you.”

“Well, he didn’t know the job was on me till he got here.”

“Look, he was pulling his hair out all day, even cried on the plane. Just let him have his moment eh?”

After a moment it became evident to you that if someone didn't stop him your second favorite mug wouldn't be the only casualty.

“Tan - Tan” You called his name and grabbed hold of the arm he was using to batter Ladybug’s face with. “TAN - stop.” You struggled against his strength but he looked up at you. Something in your face was enough to get him to stop.

“He was gonna fucking kill you.” He said in an exasperated tone, chest heaving. “Fuck off and let me handle it.”

“He wasn't here to kill me. Just wanted some files. He didn’t know I live here.” His eyes narrowed on you as if he had superpowers and could tell if you were lying. “Promise, he wasn't going to hurt me.”

“Thank you.” Ladybug coughed.

“Shut up.” Tan barked. “Don't look at her either.”

“Lemon, can you deal with him?” You asked firmly as you pulled Tangerine into the bathroom.

“What the fuck was that?” You shut the bathroom door and turned the cold water on, placing his hands under it. You started shouting at him as you washed his hands.

“You fucking left you have no right to break down my fucking door you mother fucker” You continued on as you grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard and started washing the blood from his face. Then you put some ointment on his knuckles before wrapping them.

“It’s embarrassing you run off to some stupid island for three fucking months.”

“You kept tabs on us?” Tan finally spoke.

“Shut up!” You pulled the wrap tight and knotted it. “The point is you don’t love me and I don't want you here.”

You finally looked into his eyes and wanted more than anything to understand what you had to say to get him to figure it out. Talking was never something you guys were good at, especially when the topic was painful.

He looked at you very carefully for a moment and you knew his temper was raging, you were expecting a proper fight this time.

“Oi we are going to run to the hardware store. Grab a new door and that. Fancy some takeout?” Lemon shouted from down the hall.

“You know I have a real craving for some pad thai” Ladybug called out.

“That’s a good call.” Lemon agreed. You could feel the heat radiating off of him but couldn't help but push him a little bit farther.

“Pad Thai, extra spicy, no peanuts.” You called out before his lips crashed into yours. He picked you up and slammed you against the bathroom door. His hands were all over you and you thought about stopping him, but this was so much easier than talking.

_______________________________________________

After making a proper mess in your bathroom he carried your bed. He pulled the covers over you and kissed the top of your head. He held you tightly till the sound of laughter floated into your apartment.

“Stay.” He ordered before leaving. You were so tired you didn't care enough to argue.

You curled up and could just barely hear what they were saying.

“Can you guys handle this?” Tan asked keeping his voice low.

“Yeah, foods on the counter,” Lemon responded. “She alright?”

“She’s tough, just needs to rest, that's all.” He said a few other things that you couldn't hear. “You both can fight over the guest room.”

“Piss off,” Lemon grumbled.

Tan came back with food and after getting your chopsticks he settled his arm around you.

“We should probably talk about everything.” You said in between bites.

“We have officially retired. Quit your job and come with us.” He whispered his mustache tickling your ear.

You should really deal with everything. Talk about your initial reaction to him trying to break up with you. Figure out where the relationship was going. Understand each other's goals. But talking wasn't ever your thing.

“Sure.” You said around a mouth full of noodles.

_________________________________________________________

#Tangerine #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x reader #Tangerine fic #tangerine request #Bullet train request #bullet train imagine #Tangerine imagine #Tangerine One shot

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kkamooo · 5 months ago

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Another little fic I wrote cause Banksway is quite literally taking over my brain 😭

Fine Line:

Adam stepped into the cozy, quiet house, finally getting shielded from the frigid Minnesota winter. He smiled at the home that he and his husband had picked out together; the house that they loved.

He kicked off his shoes and ventured further into the house, taking in the familiar scent of vanilla from the candle that Charlie had no doubt lit on their counter. He never truly understood his husband’s love for those candles, but he never minded the aroma. Anything that reminded him of Charlie was immediately okay in Adam’s book.

He flicked on the light in front of him, walking forward a bit more when he didn’t immediately see Charlie at the dinner table where he usually was at this time of night.

“Char?” Adam called out into the empty living room. He slipped off his brown jacket onto their couch.

Adam could hear some rustling come from the bedroom where he could tell Charlie was.

He walked through the hallway to the room and took in the sight of his tall, strong, and handsome husband in front of him. Adam couldn’t believe that the man before him was his for forever and ever.

He swears that every single time he sees Charlie he falls deeper and deeper in love, something he didn’t know was even possible. Time had been nothing but good to the former Captain.

“Hey,” Adam said, slipping a hand around Charlie’s waist, finally catching his attention.

Charlie looked up and smiled brightly at Adam. To which the blonde could feel his heart flutter a bit in his chest.

“How was it?” Charlie asked sincerely.

Adam sighed, leaning his head down on Charlie’s shoulder, “It was good,” he said into Charlie’s shirt, “You would’ve liked it.”

The reunion had been fun, and it had been a breath of fresh air to see all of his friends in the same place. With all of their busy schedules, it didn’t happen that often anymore.

Charlie and Adam had just relocated back to Minnesota after ten years living in Boston and Philly. Their careers in the NHL had been hectic and chaotic to say the least. And to their disappointment, they hadn’t been able to visit their home state much over the past two decades. Life just seemed to get in the way. After retiring ten years ago, they had decided to stay in Boston so they could tie up some loose ends. They loved Massachusetts, but their end goal was always to settle in Minnesota.

Although they would never trade the memories they made in the league for the world, they had to admit it was nice to get back to the place they called home.

Charlie chuckled in disagreement, “Yeah sure, Banksie,” he breathed out, “Because seeing my friends every single day is necessary. We’re not sixteen anymore Adam.”

Adam’s head shot up at that, “It’s Banks-Conway to you,” he said in mock offense, “And yes. We do see our friends a lot, but there was a certain coach there that you haven’t seen fifteen years.” Charlie tensed at the mere mention of their former coach. Bombay was a sensitive subject in the Banks-Conway household.

“And whose fault is that?” Charlie bit back, “If Bombay really wanted to see me, he would’ve reached out.”

After the boys left for the NHL, contact with their coach declined until it was nonexistent.

Adam shook his head, “He’s trying, Charlie,” he said, trying to get through to his stubborn husband, “And you’re not exactly being open minded.”

Charlie scoffed loudly, “It’s a little too late for that, Adam,” he spoke harshly, speaking Adam’s name with a hint of sarcasm.

Still after twenty-five years, Charlie Conway wasn’t one to give up on what he believed, which something Adam had to fight against every single day. Ever since they started dating in sophomore year of high school, it was a part of Charlie that always drove Adam crazy.

“I know you’re still angry,” he started, pausing for a second, “and I get that Char, but you can’t leave him out of your life forever,” Adam tried to convince him, but Charlie wouldn’t relent.

“I can do anything I set my mind to Banksie,” Charlie retorted, giving Adam a fake smile.

Adam didn’t find that funny and glared at him, “You’re not being fair, Charlie.”

The brunette released himself from Adam’s embrace and flopped down dramatically on their bed, “You realize you’re talking about the same man that didn’t even show up for our wedding?”

The mattress dipped beside Charlie as Adam sat down next to him, “Charlie, I’m just saying that you should at least talk to him,” Adam argued.

Charlie glared at him from his position on the bed, “It’s not that easy Ad,” he pouted, acting more like how he did at age fourteen rather than his grown age of forty-three.

Adam rolled his eyes at Charlie’s relentlessness, “Why’s that? You’re quite literally the most talkative person I know.” Adam tried to joke, but his husband didn’t like hearing those words.

“I just don’t understand how you can be so forgiving,” Charlie argued.

This was not going to be as easy as Adam had first thought.

Adam layed back on the bed, joining Charlie, “I just want what’s best for you Char, and I know that Bombay wasn’t there for you, but he’s trying. All I’m asking is for you to just hear him out.”

There was a long beat of silence.

Charlie sighed loudly, deflating a bit, “If it will make you happy,” he started, letting out a big breath of air, lacing their fingers together, “Then I will talk to him.”

Adam smiled and pecked Charlie on the cheek. He was slightly shocked at how quickly his husband had given in, “Thank you Charlie,” he spoke softly.

Charlie nodded softly, turning over to lay on his side, pulling Adam in close, “Anything for you Cake eater.”

Adam hit Charlie on the shoulder playfully, “I haven’t had cake in twenty-five years Spazway.”

Charlie looked at Adam with dramatic shock, “You’d think that after eleven years in the NHL I could get away from that nickname,” he said

Adam laughed, “Not while I’m around,” he said, grinning.

“Well I guess that’s it, we’re getting a divorce,” Charlie joked, turning away from Adam.

The blonde grabbed Charlie’s shoulder and pulled him back over to be facing him, “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he responded, the laughter coming through his words.

“You underestimate me Banksie,” Charlie said, rolling on top of his husband.

“Oh shut up Conway,” Adam replied, cupping the sides of Charlie’s face, feeling the day old stubble.

“Make me,” Charlie whispered mischievously, placing his lips upon Adam’s smiling into the kiss. And there he was, forgetting all about the events of that night. The only thing that mattered to him was his husband, and with Adam by his side, Charlie knew that he could get through anything.

#banksway #adam and charlie #hockey boys #boyfriends #adam banks #charlie conway #the mighty ducks #they’re in love your honor #theyre so cute

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kjack89 · 2 years ago

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hope it never ends

Started writing this back when it was, y'know, timely. Then had to get stitches in my hand and have struggled with the whole typing thing. So even though it took me longer than reasonable to finish, have whatever this is.

Established E/R, modern AU.

Enjolras pressed Joly and Bossuet’s doorbell with his elbow since he was holding a coffee in each hand. Joly answered the door, blinking blearily at him. “You know, I really thought these days were over,” he said with a yawn, stepping back to let Enjolras in.

“So did I,” Enjolras said, a little grimly. He hesitated, realizing for the first time he should’ve brought more coffee. “Sorry, I didn’t think—”

Joly waved a dismissive hand, yawning again. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m going back to bed anyway.”

Despite the circumstances, Enjolras couldn’t quite stop his smile as Joly turned and revealed that the hair on the back of his head was sticking straight up. “What about Bossuet?”

“There wasn’t even a break in his snoring when you rang the doorbell,” Joly said sourly, giving Enjolras one more wave over his shoulder as he shuffled back to his bedroom. That left Enjolras with nothing to do but head into the living room and the conversation he was already dreading.

As much as Enjolras loved to watch Grantaire sleep, he was glad that the man was already awake and sitting up, scrolling through his phone when Enjolras walked in. He wasn’t in the mood to sit around waiting for Grantaire to wake up, not when his own sleep had been disturbed by not having the other man there. “Here,” he said gruffly in lieu of a greeting. “I brought you coffee.”

Grantaire lit up. “My hero,” he said with no small amount of enthusiasm, dropping his phone in his lap to reach out with both hands for the extended cup of coffee.

Enjolras hesitated before asking, “Can I sit?” When Grantaire just arched an eyebrow, he clarified, “Next to you?”

Something softened in Grantaire’s expression. “Of course,” he said, and Enjolras jerked a nod before sitting down next to him on the couch.

For a long moment, both men sipped their coffee in silence, Enjolras glancing at Grantaire and trying to determine how this conversation would go. But unlike most times that had preceded heart-to-heart conversations in Joly and Bossuet’s living room, they hadn’t (to Enjolras’s knowledge at least) had a fight. Or a disagreement. Or even a joke that didn’t quite land right.

To Enjolras’s knowledge, everything between them yesterday had been fine.

Up until the point when he had gotten a text from Grantaire at 1 in the morning letting him know that he was spending the night at Joly and Bossuet’s.

Which invariably meant Enjolras had missed something.

“So what’s going on?” he said, cautiously breaking the silence.

Grantaire glanced at him and away again. “Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly.

Enjolras didn’t buy it for a second. “And yet you slept here last night,” he pointed out.

Grantaire shrugged. “Well, I was a little drunk,” he said.

“That’s never stopped you from sleeping in our bed before,” Enjolras said, trying very hard not to sound accusatory.

Grantaire made a face. “Fine, so I was drunk, and a little in my feelings, and being ridiculous, and I thought for the sake of the longevity of our relationship, it might be a wise idea to crash here.”

He said it all in a rush, and Enjolras took a moment before responding. “When you say you were in your feelings—” he started cautiously, and Grantaire barked a humorless laugh, running a hand across his face.

“That’s probably a mild way of putting it,” he muttered.

Enjolras frowned. “Oh?”

Grantaire took a swig of coffee before admitting, “I was in a self-deprecating panic spiral.”

“Ah.” Enjolras knew the type of panic spiral Grantaire referred to all too well, though it had been awhile since he had witnessed one himself. “About what?”

Grantaire flushed. “I don’t want to tell you that,” he mumbled.

Enjolras stared at him, dumbfounded. The one and only time Grantaire had ever been embarrassed about the words coming out of his mouth was when he had confessed his feelings to Enjolras. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just…you’ll think it’s stupid,” Grantaire muttered. “Like, not just me being slightly irrational stupid. But me being, like, really fucking stupid.”

“Ok, well now you have to tell me,” Enjolras said, aiming for teasing to try to lighten the mood, but it seemed to have the opposite effect, as Grantaire’s flush darkened. After a long moment, Grantaire huffed a sigh and stared up at the ceiling as he mumbled something so quietly that Enjolras couldn’t catch it. “What?”

Grantaire cleared his throat. “Taylor Swift,” he said, still staring determinedly at the ceiling.

Enjolras blinked. “You were freaking out about…Taylor Swift.”

He didn’t mean it to sound as derisive as it inevitably did, but Grantaire’s expression still tightened. “See,” he said grimly. “I told you it was stupid.”

Enjolras reached out automatically, resting a light hand on Grantaire’s knee. “I didn’t say it was stupid,” he told him. “I’m just not sure that I follow. Or see what Taylor Swift has to do with the longevity of our relationship.”

“Well, not just Taylor Swift,” Grantaire amended. “Mostly her, y’know, break up.”

“I still don’t follow,” Enjolras said slowly.

Grantaire fiddled with the lid of his coffee cup. “Well, you have to keep in mind that I was very drunk.”

“Sure.”

“So, uh, we started talking about it, and I came to the drunken conclusion that if even Taylor Swift can’t make true love work, then there’s no hope for the rest of us,” Grantaire said. “Including, mainly, you and me.”

The leap in logic was so immensely vast that Enjolras was left actually speechless for perhaps the first time in his life. “You – what?”

Grantaire shrugged almost blithely as he took another sip of coffee. “In fairness, I warned you it was stupid.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “More batshit insane than stupid.”

“Pretty sure that’s ableist,” Grantaire said, cracking a smile.

But Enjolras wasn’t deterred. “I’ll figure out some kind of progressive act of contrition later,” he said impatiently. “Why on God’s green earth would you think—”

“Did you miss the part where I was incredibly drunk?” Grantaire interrupted.

Enjolras scowled at him. “Yes, but need I remind you of a little phrase known as in vino veritas?” he asked sharply.

Grantaire smiled again, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Actually yes, my Latin isn’t quite what it used to be—”

“Grantaire.”

Grantaire sighed, his smile fading. “Fine,” he said, looking away. “But then I’d counter that alcohol isn’t truth serum and sometimes you say shit just to say it, especially when you’re emotional.”

“Seemingly deliberate use of second person aside,” Enjolras said, his voice still sharp, sharper perhaps than intended, “that still doesn’t explain the apparent kernel of truth there, that you somehow think there’s no hope for us.”

“That’s not quite what I said,” Grantaire said, though he couldn’t seem to meet Enjolras’s eyes.

“And I think we’re getting into splitting hairs territory,” Enjolras returned.

This time, Grantaire’s attempt at a somewhat weak smile seemed genuine. “Yes, and there’s nothing you and I love more than parsing semantics.”

Enjolras exhaled sharply. “Under normal circumstances, sure,” he said, trying to reign in his impatience. “But this isn’t exactly normal circumstances.” He paused, trying to determine how to refocus the conversation in the least accusatory way. “So why don’t we instead focus on what it is about Taylor Swift’s break-up that has you feeling this way.”

He said it as a command more than a question, and it worked – Grantaire never was very good at ignoring a direct order, and now was no exception. Grantaire traced a finger along the seam of the couch, his expression troubled. “It’s just…Taylor and Joe were, by all accounts, very much in love, right?” Enjolras guessed it was a rhetorical question but nodded anyway. “With, like, a dozen songs about their love on best selling records to prove it. And now they’re just – not.”

Something about the way the last word caught in Grantaire’s throat gave Enjolras pause, and he nodded slowly, understanding beginning to dawn. “And you’re worried that one day, you and I will just not love each other.”

Grantaire’s eyes darted to his and away again. “Well, less that we’ll just not love each other, and more…”

He trailed off, and Enjolras’s heart clenched. “You’re worried that one day, I’ll just stop loving you.”

He said it flatly, and Grantaire jerked a shrug. “I wasn’t before,” he said. “But now…”

“But now just because Taylor Swift and her boyfriend broke up, you suddenly doubt everything about us?” Enjolras asked, unable to temper the sharpness in his tone.

“No,” Grantaire said, equally sharp. “But it put the idea in my head, and after one too many drinks last night, I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He met Enjolras’s eyes, something of a challenge in his expression. “Besides, you can’t tell me it’s out of the realm of possibility.”

Enjolras didn’t rise to it. “I could,” he said quietly. “But even if I did, I don’t think promising you that it’s not going to happen will help.” He paused before adding, somewhat pointedly, “Especially to someone already disinclined toward belief.”

Grantaire managed a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not that I wouldn’t believe you, per se,” he said, “it’s just that I don’t think it’s something you can really promise.”

“Why not?”

“Because love doesn’t work that way,” Grantaire said, almost impatiently. “You can’t control who you fall out of love with any more than you can control who you fall in love with.” He gave Enjolras a look. “And don’t try to deny it, because I know you never would have chosen this.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “Didn’t I?” he said quietly. “Aren’t I still?”

Grantaire made a small noise of dissent. “Be serious.”

“I am,” Enjolras told him. “I don’t think you can control lust, or attraction, and those are the things that can fade. But being in love is hell of a lot more than either of those. Being in love is choosing to build a life with someone, and choosing to stay if those things do fade. Being in love is choosing not to walk away when things get hard, or—”

“Or if your boyfriend decides to panic spiral about Taylor Swift?”

Enjolras half-smiled. “Or that.” He reached for Grantaire’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Love is an emotion, and one that you don’t have a lot of control over. But being in love is an act, and it’s an act that you have to choose every single day.”

He said it definitively, but Grantaire just made a face. “Now I think you’re the one entering into splitting hairs territory,” he said dismissively.

“And I don’t think I am,” Enjolras said. “I just don’t see being in love as something you fall out of, as if it’s some kind of accident. I think it’s a decision, conscious or otherwise, to stop putting in the work and doing the actions that sustain a relationship, sometimes for very good reason.” He squeezed Grantaire’s hand again. “Right now, I don’t have a reason, good or otherwise, to decide against choosing you and choosing this. And that I can promise you.”

Grantaire shook his head slowly. “You really believe that?”

Enjolras nodded. “I do.” He nudged Grantaire with his shoulder. “As much as you believe that the Donald Trump animatronic at Disney’s Hall of Presidents was originally Hillary Clinton and they had to super quickly swap them out.”

Seemingly despite himself, Grantaire barked a laugh. “Ok, but that’s, like, practically verified fact at this point.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes affectionately. “It’s decidedly not, but…” He gave Grantaire a pointed look. “Since that’s what you consider verified fact for me to compare my beliefs to…”

Grantaire let out a low whistle. “Wow.”

Still, there was something in his expression that told Enjolras this wasn’t resolved by any stretch. “And yet you don’t seem convinced,” he observed.

Something tightened in Grantaire’s face. “I want to be,” he said, his voice low. “You have no idea how much I want to be.” He laced his fingers with Enjolras’s. “You have spoken some truly beautiful words, and obviously I know firsthand what a gifted orator you are, but still…”

He trailed off, and Enjolras waited a moment before prompting, “But still.”

Grantaire just shook his head. “But as beautiful as they are, they’re just words. And even though the only thing I’ve ever believed in is you…”

This time, Enjolras didn’t need to prompt him to know what he was thinking. “It’s not enough to believe in just me,” he said, his breath catching in his throat. “Not when it comes to this.”

“Again, I want it to be,” Grantaire said softly.

“I know,” Enjolras said, equally quiet. “But the only way I can prove that they’re more than just words is with time. Which means you have to believe me enough to try.”

Grantaire half-smiled. “I’ll try.”

“You’ll try to try?” Enjolras asked, mostly teasing, and was rewarded with Grantaire rolling his eyes, his smile widening.

“I’ll try to believe you,” he amended, before adding, in a clear effort to head off any of Enjolras’s protestations to the contrary, “It’s as good as you’re going to get.”

Since Enjolras hadn’t planned on making any protestations, especially about this, especially knowing how delicate of a line they sometimes walked, he just leaned in and kissed Grantaire’s forehead before asking, “Then can you promise me something else?”

“What?”

“Next time, can you at least believe in me enough to come home and have the conversation with me there?”

Again Grantaire laughed, but it was as close to his usual laughter as Enjolras had heard all morning. “In fairness, who knows when there will be a next time that Taylor Swift breaks up with someone?” Grantaire asked innocently, though his grin was wicked.

Enjolras just rolled his eyes. “I mean it,” he said. “The next time you have doubts, or are in your feelings about us. Come home to me.”

Grantaire’s expression softened, but before he could say anything, Joly called from the bedroom, “Seconded,” followed by Bossuet’s sleepy shout of, “Thirded.”

Enjolras arched an eyebrow at Grantaire, who rolled his eyes. “The ayes have it, I guess,” he groused, before leaning in and kissing Enjolras. “And yes, I believe in you enough for that.”

“Good,” Enjolras said, standing and holding a hand out to Grantaire to help him up from the couch. “Then let’s go home before I decide to sell our tickets to Taylor Swift’s tour for the sake of our relationship.”

Grantaire’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t fucking dare,” he said, mock-scandalized

Enjolras laughed lightly, turning to press a kiss to Grantaire’s temple. “No, I wouldn’t,” he agreed, taking Grantaire’s hand once more. “I promise.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #established relationship #heart to heart #it's a rumination on love really #love and belief

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coolguypluiplup · 1 year ago

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Flower Husbands Florist AU

have a flower husbands oneshot loosely based on this tumblr post :)

word count: 1228

full fic under the cut!!

It had been a long shift. Jimmy wasn't normally one to complain (he's lying about this) but he feels like he deserves it today. His boss had booked him in to make 20 flower crowns for a hen party happening tonight that he didn't find out about 'till this morning, he had couples in and out all day for valentines' flowers and had to do the displays for tomorrow. And no one else was working this week! What a joke.

He was slumped against the counter, face pressed to his palm and eyes fighting to stay open. He had 10 minutes 'till closing and was practically counting down the seconds. The flowers in the display case glistened against the rim lights pointed at them causing a ripple of light against the wall facing Jimmy. He should really turn them off. No one had come in for 20 minutes and it's not like anyone's gonna come in at quarter to 10-

“Oh thank god. I've been searching for a place still open.” A man entered hastily, the doorbell ringing as he did. Teal hair stuck to his forehead in clumps and eyeliner ran down his face. He put his collapsed umbrella onto the counter. “I need a bouquet to tell someone I hate them.”

“Hm?” Jimmy spoke- nearly asleep.

“It is valentine's day tomorrow, right?”

Jimmy sat back on the stool, trying to avoid the rainwater pooling near the cash register. “Yeah.“

”Okay, so I need, like, a reverse 'I love you' bouquet.“

Jimmy stared at the man. He sighed and pulled out his floriography book.

”Anything in particular you fancy?“

”Nah. You're the flower boy, anyway.“

Jimmy made a noise of disagreement but started flicking through the pages of the book anyway. “I might need a bit more context to pick the right thing.”

The man sighed. “It's gonna take a while, you sure?”

“Mhm.” Jimmy said, instinctively. He was still exhausted but this was more fun than sleeping.

“Well, tl;dr or whatever, My ex is in town. She still has a thing for me, and I don’t.

He stopped flicking through the pages. “That's... a story. Not normally what I make this time of year,”

“Yep. And I'm gay, which I don’t even think she knows yet.”

“Hm.”

”So. Flowers?“

Jimmy flicked through the pages briskly, scanning each page for something suitable. ”I'm intrigued now. How'd that all go down, then?“ He was never one for small talk.

”Well. We met in year 9 and dated that entire time 'til uni. She was getting fed up that we'd never done any of the romantic stuff our friends did. I genuinely had no clue that that was kinda strange, so I didn't see the problem. And before I knew it, she'd run off with the ex of my best friend. They weren't exes at the time, but trust me, after this it was fallout. I was angry, naturally, and she told me that it was my fault for not trying to fix our relationship before it got too bad. So, I broke it off. Hadn't seen her since.

"Until last week, when my friend told me she was in town. So I invited her round our house. Me and Cleo thought 'no harm done now. We're over it, we know why me and her were having problems, should be fine now'. Couldn't be farther from the truth. She comes round and immediately starts talking about how much she misses me. Says that now we're 'more mature' we can work it out like adults and that she still has feelings for me. Didn't even get to tell her I found out I was gay after I left her.”

The man had been looking at the displays while speaking, so he probably didn’t catch Jimmy’s jaw dropping before he could catch himself. He turned around to face him. “So, any good picks for the bouquet, then?”

Jimmy hesitantly flips to a page he dog-eared and turns it to face the stranger. They both move closer to the page to read it. ”Foxglove might be a good pick. 'Means insincerity. In older things it even means secrets and complicated situations, which seems fitting. And it's quite pretty, but that's more an aesthetic choice.”

“I like them.“ He stared up at Jimmy. Their faces were mere inches apart. His eyes were a light hazel with gold flecks nearly colour matched the piercings running down his ears. ”You alright?“

Jimmy blinked and moved back. ”Uhm, yeah. Sorry.“ He picked up the book and moved to the greenhouse door behind him. ”I've got a few picks that'll go great with the message. Should take, like, 20 minutes?“

”Okay. Thanks for doing this, by the way. I know it's, like, nearly ten right now,“

”No, don't worry, really. Uhm, can I get a name for the order?”

“Scott.”

Jimmy smiled as he spoke. “Scott. That name suits you.” He shut the door before Scott could respond.

The bouquet was placed on the counter with a thud, shaking Scott from his thoughts. The florist he was just thinking about stood with a smile. He got up and tried to shift his hair from his face (a pointless effort, he knew. Scott had checked how he looked in his phone camera while the guy was making his bouquet, and by god did he look dreadful. Make-up pouring down his face and clothes soaked through. Rained on just wasn't his look.) and walked towards the counter. ”Wow. These are beautiful.“

Scott wasn't lying. The foxgloves he'd recognised from earlier framed intricately placed white flowers. The vase the florist put them in was stunning too, glass patterns mirroring the stems of the flowers fractionally across its surface.

”Thank you. The purple are foxgloves, like I said, and meadowsweet is the white one. It means uselessness in floriography. Um, I would've put more flowers but I guess not a lot of people need 'I hate you' flowers.” He laughed awkwardly at that last bit.

His laugh was nice. It was higher pitched than normal, but fit him perfectly. Scott smiled along, pretending like he wasn't just staring at him.

Scott paid for the flowers (Jimmy gave him money off, not that he would find out until months later) and picked up his bouquet.

”Wait. Uhm,“

Scott turned to face the florist. ”Hm?“

”I have, uh, something else to give you,“ He held out a singular poppy with a slip of paper wrapped around it. ”'s just- Don't take it if you don't wan' it, but-“

Scott took the poppy before he finished speaking. He unravelled the piece of paper and read it carefully. ”'Jimmy'. That name suits you, you know.“

He blushed and turned away from him. ”Aw. Don't use my own words against me!“ He feigned anger but was smiling too much for it to have any bite.

Scott put the piece of paper with Jimmy's number in his pocket and took the poppy and tucked behind his ear. ”Thank you, Jimmy. I'll call later to tell you how the flowers went down.“

”Don't spare any details, I'm properly invested.“

Scott laughed as he opened the door. The moonlight had illuminated the wet concrete. When had it stopped raining? He couldn't have been in there that long. Scott turned to face Jimmy. “See you later, Jimmy.”

”You too.“

#flower husbands #pluiplup's writing #trafficshipping

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lusthurts · 4 months ago

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wip wednesday

thank you for the tag @daisyishedwig :)))

this is a bit from the how bright we burn sequel (title to be revealed soon I hope?) - I think it'll be in like chapter eight or something around that point during midterms season, featuring my meddling drama-creating OC Dylan

“Dylan,” Blaine says, eyes narrowing as he looks at him. “I thought you agreed to try with Sebastian.” “I did,” Dylan replies, shifting in his chair. “I’m talking about Maslow.” “You are so not talking about Maslow.” Dylan’s eyes finally turn back to Blaine, like they’re calculating what his reaction might be if he’s honest. “I have tried, haven’t I? His name hasn’t even come up since, like, August.” Blaine shakes his head. “Not what I’m talking about.” “I just don’t see how you can find that fulfilling,” Dylan concedes, putting his hands up in defense. “Don’t you see the way people talk about the two of you? It’s like you’re some kind of spectacle, like Dalton’s own Brangelina. You think you can achieve self-actualization through flashy dates and quickies in his trust fund Porsche?” Blaine’s irrationally angry, and he has to remind himself they’re in a library with tons of other students cramming for exams, otherwise he thinks he might raise his voice. “And you think you can self-actualize through making snap judgements about my relationship based on what you see in the hallways at school?” Dylan tilts his head, taken aback by Blaine’s response. “I don’t think you realize how fast gossip gets around this school. Do you really think people don’t notice when you two fight in the middle of the courtyard between class?” “That was one tiny fight that lasted three seconds.” “And then there’s the random power struggles with Hunter Clarington, the disagreements over council elections that the entire school heard about…not to mention driving a wedge between you and your other friends. Lukas told me about that huge fight with Trent. And when was the last time you hung out with Jeff?” “My friendships are fine,” Blaine snaps. “How do you even know about any of this?” Dylan sighs. “I pay attention, but even if I didn’t, this whole school treats the Warblers like celebrities. Everyone has People-worthy gossip about you guys, and they can’t shut up about it.” “That doesn’t mean you know what’s really going on,” Blaine argues.

I so cannot wait to start publishing this

#seblaine #seblaine fic #sebastian smythe #blaine anderson #how bright we burn #lusthurts fics

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punkette1026 · 11 months ago

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Chapter 2-My Sweet Rose

Summary:

As Marcus impatiently waits for Abby to arrive, Marcus reminisces on what happened on their first date.

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Unanswered Prayers Masterlist

Here is chapter 2. I really hope you like it!

Marcus sat there for what felt like hours checking back and forth between his phone and the coffee shop entrance impatiently waiting for Abby’s arrival. In reality though, it had only been like twenty or thirty minutes since she texted him asking if he could meet her at The Hot Expresso and it was pure torture. At this point, he would rather that she break up with him by text. It would save him the trouble of having a breakdown in the middle of the busy shop.

“You want me to warm that up for you?” came a voice out of nowhere as he rested his head back on the table.

Marcus shot his head up and saw Louise, Abby’s sister, standing there with a fresh pot of coffee. “Oh, hey Louise, no I’m fine thanks. Have you heard from your sister at all?”

“No, not today,” she sighed sitting down across from him. “I do know though that you two aren’t really seeing eye to eye now. What happened Marcus? Normally you two can’t keep away from each other.”

He just ran his hand through his shaggy hair in frustration, “I don’t know Louise, I really don’t know. It just sort of happened one day. Abigail just snapped at me. We had just got done eating dinner and when I washed the dishes and left them on the counter to dry, she just started yelling at me for not drying them myself. Then it turned into her nagging me for everything I didn’t do right in her eyes that day. I thought that maybe it was that time of the month, and just went along with it, but then it went on and on and one. And then...”

“Then what?” It tore Louise up to see her two favorite people fighting. It was no secret that at one point, Lousie had a crush on Marcus, but now she saw him more as a brother.

“On Sunday when I came back into town and my apartment got flooded, Abigail came over to help and she acted normal. She was loving and sweet, just like how she used to be. Then out of nowhere, she asked me to move in with her,” Marcus sighed.

“And that’s a bad thing?” They had been dating for over a year now and he practically lived with her sister anyways with how often he was at her place. Everyone thought that would be the next step in their relationship.

“Normally no it wouldn’t be,” he said with frustration again. “If she had asked me a month ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. However, with her mood changing and the issues I was having at work, I snapped at her this time and told her flat-out no. Why would I want to move in with her? So, I could get yelled at all the time, no thank you. It’s like I can’t breathe around her without her wanting to rip my head off. I’m better off staying in a hotel while they fix my apartment for the sake of my sanity. I just feel like nothing I do is good enough for her. I buy her the ice cream that she craves and it’s the wrong brand, I buy her flowers hoping that it would make her feel better, and she doesn’t like the way they smell. Then it’s like I can’t even touch her anymore. Sunday was the first time in weeks that I was able to hug her. Every time I would try to hold her or even kiss her, she would walk away. I can’t even hold her hand! I’m tired of it all Louise, but goddammit, I still love her!”

Louise’s heart broke from him. She knew how much he loved her sister and knew how much Abby loved him. You could see it in their eyes. When Louise did talk to Abby, she never mentioned anything that Marcus had just told her. All Abby told her was that she and Marcus weren’t on the same page at the moment. That they had a few disagreements, but that’s it. Louise had never seen an angry or controlling bone in Abby’s body, so to hear Marcus say such things, it came as a complete shock. That wasn’t her sister at all. Then there was something else that she noticed too.

“Look Marcus, I don’t know if I should be getting involved or saying anything, but I have been noticing that my mom has been acting weird too lately. She has been leaving work and home a lot to see Abby. Then, I overheard her talking to Abby saying that she would pick her up this morning and that she needs to tell you everything soon. Even my dad has been wondering where they took off too. So, I believe you in thinking something strange is going on with my sister. I just hope that whatever it is, you two can work it out. You two are perfect for each other Marucs Pike. Don’t give up on my sister just yet please,” Louise pleaded with him before excusing herself to get back to work.

At such a tender age of 16, Louise left a lot for Marcus to think about. If what she told him was true, then maybe Abby was going to let him in on what was going on with her instead of breaking up with him. However, he just couldn’t let that feeling go. And what also bothered him was the fact that she trusted Rosita more than him when it came to their issues. Even though she was her mother, Marcus thought that they would try to work out whatever was going on with them first before they got their family involved. That hurt more now that he thought about it.

As he checked his phone again, Marcus just gave up and threw his phone on the table. There was no point in looking at it anymore. He would just have to wait for her to show up. As he looked around the shop trying to find something else to occupy his mind, Marcus spotted a young couple tucked away near the window. From the nervous laughter and the looks on their faces, Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he could see that they were on their first date most likely. He could remember the nerves that he was going through as he picked Abby up for their first date that didn’t go exactly as planned.

Flashback...

Marcus nervously stood in the middle of his bedroom only in his boxers as he stared at his closet looking for something to wear. A sudden bout of insecurity overcame him. He was just going to throw on a plain t-shirt and jeans and call it a day. However, when he thought of Abby and how beautiful she was going to look in whatever she was going to wear, he got concerned and nervous. He didn’t want to appear out of her league even though he knew that he was. Marcus didn’t want to embarrass her either. So, he pulled out his phone and decided to text her to ease his mind.

‘Good morning, Abigail Rose! How did you sleep?’ -M.P.

‘Good morning, Agent Pike! Slept like a baby. How about you?’ -A.R.

‘I slept alright. Question, what are you planning to wear tonight?’ -M.P.

‘Why, are you trying to match? Lol But I’m planning to wear a simple dress.’ -A.R.

‘Just wondering. I wasn’t sure how dressed up I needed to be. Didn’t want to under or over dress.’ -M.P.

‘It’s probably going to be hot and packed. Just keep it casual. I’m really excited to see you!’ -A.R.

Marcus gave a big smile as he read her text. He was just excited as he was.

‘Me too. I hear that they are going to be showing some old 80’s movies. Do you like horror movies?’ -M.P.

‘Nope, I love them! A lot of 80’s horror movies are cheesy though. Are they showing anything good?’ -A.R.

‘True, but they are having a showing of A Werewolf in London. It’s one of my favorites!’ -M.P.

‘Oh, that’s a good one! I’m totally down to see that. I hope you don’t mind, I’m a bit of a screamer.’ -A.R.

Both of them immediately gasped and blushes came upon their cheeks as they both reread what she had texted. As Abby was mentally beating herself up and inappropriate scenes came into Marcus’ mind, she was quick to try to send out a recovery text.

‘I mean with horror movies! I mean I get scared pretty easily.’ -A.R.

One the other side of the phone, Marcus was still trying to recover. He was trying to control his breathing as he kept rereading her text. Oh, how he wanted to explore that further, which scared him. Here they were only a few days from their first meeting, and he never wanted someone more as much as he wanted Abby.

‘You can hold my hand if you want. I don’t mind. Am I still picking you up at 11?’ -M.P.

‘Yes, we are still on for 11. Just text me when you are about to leave, and I’ll text you, my address. Are you sure it’s okay to hold your hand though? What if I don’t want to let go?’ -A.R.

Abby softly bit her lip. She was never this fast to flirt with someone. She was more the reserved shy type, and it normally took her a while to feel comfortable with doing it. Marcus brought something out of her, and she liked it.

‘Of course, you can. I promise to hold it tight and protect you from any werewolves. Lol’ -M.P.

‘My own personal F.B.I bodyguard. How did I get so lucky! Well Agent Pike, I better start getting ready. Don’t forget to text me for the address.’ -A.R.

‘Alright I better figure out something casual to wear then. See you in a little bit Abigail Rose.’ -M.P.

Once they got off the phone, Marcus took Abby’s advice and went with something casual like he had originally planned. He then headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the room began to fill with steam, Marcus looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. Yet another problem that he had. He had made the decision of finally getting to shave his beard and cut the hair that he had been sporting since his last undercover mission which was months and months ago. Now with a clean-shaven face, the prominent bruise and cut that he had on his cheek was more visible now. He couldn’t wait for the stares he was going to get. Marcus just hoped that Abby didn’t mind.

As Marcus got ready, Abby was anxiously getting ready as well. She was all showered and was in nothing but a towel as she tried to figure out what do to with her hair. Figuring she might as well curl it, Abby plugged in her curling iron when a knock came upon her bathroom door.

“Abby, it’s Louise, do you have any extra toothpaste in there?”

She looked underneath her sink and saw an extra box to give to her sister. “Yeah, come on in. I’m just getting ready.”

Louise carefully opened the door to make sure that her big sister was decent. “Dang already getting ready. You must be excited then.”

“Yeah, for the first time in a while I am actually very excited for a date. Marcus has been so respectful and amazing every time we talk or text,” Abby smiled. “He really has been a fresh breath of air.”

“Does it bother you though?” Louise asked as she hopped up on the sink.

“Does what bother me?”

Louise tried to play it cool and hide the jealousy on her face. Nobody knew at the time that she had a crush on Marcus. “Does it bother you that he is way older than you? I mean you are barely graduating college for crying out loud.”

“You know what, I think that’s the only thing we haven’t talked about yet. But I don’t care about our age difference anyways. We are both consenting adults. As far as I’m concerned, I like him, and he likes me. We can deal with logistics later. Besides, dad is also older than mom.”

“Yeah, but like only three years. I’m pretty sure Marcus is way older than that.”

Abby just shrugged her shoulders, “Again, that doesn’t bother me, and it sounds like he doesn’t mind either if he still wants to go out with me. Also, if his age was such a big deal, I don’t think mom or dad would approve of me going out with him and dad wouldn’t have introduced me to him.” Abby didn’t know why her sister was making it such a big deal. As much as she thought that it didn’t bother her, it got her to start rethinking that maybe she should.

Louise could now see that the wheels in her big sister’s head started to turn. She didn’t start drama or anything, but she didn’t want to see her sister get hurt. “Look Abby, I don’t mean to be a pain alright. I just want you to make sure that it’s all good. I don’t want to have to beat Marcus up because he hurt you.”

“Well, I appreciate that Lou, but nothing is going to happen. Besides, I don’t think you could beat up Marcus anyways. He works for the F.B.I. remember,” Abby laughed.

Louise rolled her eyes slightly annoyed, “I know that Sherlock. But we don’t have an older brother to intimidate him or scare him, so I have too.”

“I know just giving you a hard time sis. I’ll be careful, I promise. Now can you help me curl the back of my hair. I can’t see a damn thing with this mirror,” Abby smiled holding out the curing iron.

“Sure, no problem.”

A couple of short hours later, after texting Abby for her address, Marcus had pulled up in his car. He nervously took his sweaty hands off the steering wheel as he could feel the sweat stinging the healing cut on his hand before wiping it on his jeans. He was astonished with how he was acting. He had never been this unsure or insecure before a date before. This woman was already changing him, and he liked it.

After getting out of the car and running his hands through his now short hair, he went up and rang the doorbell. It took a second or two for someone to answer, but he eventually heard the lock turn and the door open to reveal Louise. “Oh, hey Marcus, please come in. Abby is just grabbing her things.”

“Thank you, Louise, how are you doing today?”

“I’m alright. I’m just babysitting Anna today since mom and dad are at the shop right now,” she explained. Anna was their eleven-year-old sister.

“That’s very nice of you,” Marcus smiled. “I promise I won’t keep your sister out too late. I know a teenager like you would want to spend a Saturday night with your friends.”

Louise just sighed, “Yeah well, we will see. I may just stay in tonight. I have tons of homework to do, and I have a huge paper to write.”

Marcus chuckled remembering his school years and was happy to be past them. “Well, if you need any help, I have always been great with writing. English was my favorite subject.”

Louise blushed at Marcus’ offer, “Yeah that would be great. I appreciate that, Marcus.”

They then heard footsteps coming down the stairs. When they turned, they saw Abby was standing there smiling shyly. Marcus was absolutely floored. She looked stunning standing there in her light blue summer dress with her long brown hair curled and draped over her shoulder. Her makeup was done lightly even though Marcus thought she was still beautiful without it. He also loved how the converse shoes that she was wearing complimented her outfit.

“Wow, you look incredible,” Marcus complimented as he felt himself breathe again.

Abby’s cheeks blushed as she pushed a stray curl behind her ear, “Thank you Marcus. You look great too.” He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that looked great on him. “I’m liking the clean-shaven look too. But your poor cheek. It looks like it really hurts.”

Marcus frowned and mentally kicked himself for shaving. “Oh umm...it doesn’t hurt too bad. I was hoping that it would go away before today, but I guess not. I really hope this doesn’t affect us going out today.”

“Oh Marcus of course not. I don’t mind at all. It’s just one aspect of your job. Does it bother you?”

“Normally not, but I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I don’t want them to judge us, to judge you for being seen with me,” he told her honestly. He could care less of what others thought about him, but for her, if anyone said anything Abby, he would make them regret it.

“Here, come with me,” Abby reached out to take his hand.

“What?”

“Just come with me,” she then gently grasped his good hand and led him back upstairs.

They walked down a hallway till they reached a door on the right. It was her room. Marcus chuckled at the pick pastel walls and painted unicorns that were covered by boy band posters. “Nice room.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I have been in this room since I was like two. I never got around to do a real remodel over the years,” Abby defended herself. “Now sit on the bed.”

“What are you doing?”

He watched as Abby went through a bag that was on her desk. “Well, I figured we can try to cover up your bruise if you are afraid that it’s going to be a distraction. Now stay still.”

“Do you think that this is going to work?”

“Maybe, but we will see,” Abby then proceeded to gently apply the concealer to his bruise while being very careful to not get any makeup on his cut or stitches.

Marcus was amazed with how soft and gentle she patted the sponge on his cheek. He could feel her finger that was caressing his jaw, every now and then as she concentrated. From the angle that they were in, Marcus weas able to get a closer look at her face. He thought it was so cute how she stuck her tongue out slightly as she focused on her craft. He had to restrain himself as a part of him wanted to reach out and trace the freckles that were scattered across her cheeks and nose. She was absolutely perfect.

Abby didn’t fail to notice him staring at her either. It brought a small smile to her face. “What are you staring at huh? Do you I have something on my face?”

“No, not at all. It’s just...”

“Just what?”

“Your eyes, they are so beautiful,” he smiled. He didn’t notice before, but they were a deep hazel color. So full of life, happiness, and love.

“Thank you, Marcus. You sure do know what to say to make a girl blush,” Abby complimented. God this man was turning her into mush.

“It’s true though,” Marcus replied as he cupped her hand that was on his cheek, “Your gorgeous Abby. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” He didn’t want to scare her away, but he just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“M-Marcus”

Neither of them noticed just how close they were to each other now. Abby had leaned so far in with Marcus’ hand on her that their noses were practically touching.

“Yes, my sweet Rose?”

“Marcus I...”

“BOOO!” came a loud voice from behind them, startling them both. They both looked over and saw Anna standing behind them. “Ooh were you two kissing?”

Both of their eyes grew big as Abby took a giant step away from Marcus as he got up from the bed. “Umm...no Anna we weren’t. We were just umm...I was umm...I was umm...”

“She was just helping me hide the bruise on my face that’s all. How are you pip squeak?” Marcus quickly changed the subject.

Anna, whose child mind was quick to forget what she almost saw, ran up to Marcus and gave him a big hug. She often sat and colored with Marcus after school while she hung out at the shop and Marcus had stopped by after work for his usual order.

“I’m not very happy Marcus. I want to go to the park and Louise won’t take me!” Anna crossed her arms and stomped her feet.

“That’s because I have a paper to write you brat!” Louise shouted through the hall as walked to Abby’s room. “I told you that I will take you when I’m done.”

“But I don’t want to wait! There is a big water balloon fight starting and I don’t want to miss it,” Anna cried out dramatically.

Abby groaned half expecting her parents to walk in now. “Girls please! Let’s come up with a compromise here. Anna let’s let Louise work on her paper for a little while longer and then she will take you to the part alright. Louise, you will probably need to take a break anyways and Anna, I’m sure that the water fight will still be going on for a while.” As much as she loved her sister’s, Abby missed the quietness of her apartment back in New York.

“But...but...” Anna pouted as her eyes began to fill with tears.

“Oh, c’mon Anna don’t start crying. I’ll take you in...”

“We can take her,” Marcus interjected causing all three sisters to turn and look at him.

Abby knew Marcus was only trying to be nice and didn’t want him to give into Anna’s temper tantrum. “Marcus, thanks for offering, but Anna should know by now that crying doesn’t mean that she will get her way.”

He, however, already made his mind up, “No really, I don’t mind. As long as it’s okay with you Abigail. I think a nice walk in the park sounds way better than being stuck in a cramped convention center anyways. That will also allow Louise to work on her paper without any interruptions, Anna can go to her water fight, and we can walk around the pond together. Maybe grab a hotdog or something. What do you say my sweet Rose?”

‘God this man is perfect. He can get away with murder with those puppy dog eyes of his,’ Abby thought to himself. No wonder he worked for the F.B.I. It also melted Abby’s heart with how Marcus not only cared for her, but for her sisters too. No other man would have probably done that and give up a date to help her out with her sisters.

“Fine, but you both owe Marcus a big hug and a thank you,” Abby pointed at them.

To which both girls immediately ran up to him and gave him a group hug. “Thank you, Marcus, I’m going to go get my stuff,” Anna happily squeezed him one more time before skipping out of the bedroom.

“Yeah, thank you Marcus.” Louise said gratefully as she also went to her room. If Abby and Marcus didn’t know any better, they could have sworn that they saw her blushing and sighing contently.

Once both girls went off, it was now Abby’s turn to give him a hug of her own. “Thank you for that Marcus. I am so sorry that our date’s been ruined. I promise that I will find a way to make it up to you.”

Marcus just smiled and wrapped his arms around her like he had been wanting to and squeezed her tight. “Don’t mention it Abigail and it’s not a big deal. Those girls have grown on me these past couple of months. Are you still okay with it though? I don’t want you to be mad at me. I just figured we can be comfortable and relax instead of having to push our way past people and have to shout at each other just to hear each other.”

“I could never be mad at you Marcus and now that I think about it, that makes a whole bunch of sense. It does probably beat a sweaty convention center,” she laughed. “Is that option for holding your hand still an option? I don’t think we are at risk for any werewolf attacks now.”

“Of course, that offer is still open. You never have to ask me that any more my sweet Rose,” he whispered into his ear before they pulled apart. He then took her hand into his as they walked out the room and back downstairs where Anna was already waiting for them.

“Man, you two take forever,” Anna mumbled. “Can we go now?”

Abigail just rolled her eyes as Marcus picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Yes, we can go now,” Abigail laughed as she tickled Anna’s side.

The three then began their short walk out to the park with Anna over one shoulder of Marcus, while Abby held on to his free hand and rested her head on his free shoulder. They ended up making it to the park just in time as kids began choosing teams. So, Marcus put Anna down so she could run off and join them. The pair then began their walk around the park still hand in hand.

“You were right, this was a way better option,” Abby sighed contently leaning back into him taking in a breath of fresh air. Kids were now running around the park, bicyclists were cruising down the bike path, and barking dogs were rolling around in the dog park.

“Yeah, it’s very nice and relaxing. When I first moved here, I would walk around here to clear my head sometimes or lay in the grass and fall asleep,” he chuckled.

“I can see why, the grass looks so full and lush, so I’m sure it’s comfy. You want to know something though. I have been gone for so long, that I almost forgot the simplest things here. Everything from the traffic, the people, and even this park. I mean I grew up here and never thought that I would forget things like that,” Abby sighed.

They then stopped and sat on a park bench that overlooked the pond and where Anna was currently being hit by water balloons. “So why have you stayed away then? I’m sure you missed everyone,” Marcus chuckled a little as Anna got hit in the bed with a balloon.

“That’s probably the reason why I decided to stay away. I love my family so much and it broke my heart to leave them the first time. I had a feeling that if I came back and then left again, it would have been harder to say goodbye.”

“I totally understand. Your family is really amazing Abigail. They have been so kind to me, a complete stranger. You should be very proud of them.”

“Yes, I definitely am,” Abby smiled. “Listen though Marcus, there is something that I need to ask you. Louise kind of brought it up and it’s got me thinking a little bit, have you thought about the age difference between us. Does it bother you? Because I’m 23 and you are...”

“35 and even though it probably should, it doesn’t. We are both consenting adults. I know other people may not agree with it, but I don’t care what they think. I really, really like you, Abigail. You are a remarkable person that makes me smile every time we talk. These past few days just getting to know you have been incredible. I would really like for this to continue if you want to,” Marcus told her now taking both hands into his.

Abby with tears in her eyes nodded like a crazy woman, “Yes, yes, I would like to continue this too. You are an amazing man Marcus and you have shown so much of your kindness, personality, and care for other people. You make me feel special every time we have talked, because you have actually listened and remembered the things that I have said. I would really like to see where this goes. But what happens when I leave again? I still have a few more months of school left.”

“Then we will deal with it as it comes. We will make it work anyway that we can, I promise. Right now, there is something that I really want to do, and I can’t wait anymore,” Marcus said happily. He was so ecstatic that she agreed to continue this with him.

“What, what is it?”

“Can... can I kiss you?”

Abby moved closer to him and cupped his face with her soft hands, “Yes Marcus, yes you can. You can kiss your sweet Rose all you want.”

Marcus then let out one big smile before he gently leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. It was a gentle kiss, nothing to crazy, just full of passion. It just sealed the feelings that they had and that they were both willing to make this work. This was going to be the start of something amazing.”

End of Flashback....

If only things had stayed that way. Marcus could recall how happy and in love they were at that moment. It felt like both their worlds had come together and they both fit that missing puzzle piece that they had in their hearts. Oh, how he wished desperately that they could go back to that moment in time. ‘God, I don’t know if you are real or not, but if your plan is for us to break up. Can you please make it not hurt as bad? Or if you could give us a second chance to prove that we can find that love again, that would be great.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x ofc #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #romance #pregnancy #family

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maxtermind · 7 months ago

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baby, would i still be your lover?

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔

Max Verstappen

Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.

It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.

"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."

"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.

He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.

"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."

"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."

He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.

"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"

You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.

"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."

"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"

He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?

"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.

"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."

You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.

“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”

The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.

Lewis Hamilton

How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high

Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.

You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.

You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.

After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.

“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”

Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.

“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”

He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.

“You know how it is once the season starts.”

“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”

“Missed me?”

He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.

"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."

The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.

“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.

However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.

“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."

Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.

It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.

You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.

You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.

"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”

"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."

"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."

“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."

"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.

"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"

“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.

You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.

“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.

“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.

“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.

Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”

You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.

Charles Leclerc

Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.

He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.

Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.

It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.

This time it was pissing you off greatly.

"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.

Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.

“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”

“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”

And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.

"But we've been together almost a year?”

"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."

"Do you think she has feelings for you?”

There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.

"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"

The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?

“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”

“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”

Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.

"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"

Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."

Lando Norris

No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.

However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.

You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.

Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.

Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.

You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."

"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.

That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.

It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.

“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.

“What?”

“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”

"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."

"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”

Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.

“They were all strangers to me and you didn’t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.

“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”

Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.

He knew what he said was unacceptable.

You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.

He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.

“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”

With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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hufflepuffwithaslytherinkink · 2 years ago

Text

Tacenda - Chapter 37 Snippet

Eleanor’s just sat down in charms when Lavender and Parvati move their chairs to the other side of her desk, staring at her with wide eyes. Eleanor startles a little at their sudden appearance.

“Hi.” She mutters wondering what they’re doing.

“Arggh.” Lavender squeals.

“Are you okay?” Eleanor asks slowly.

“Forget about me what about you?” Lavender gushes.

“I’m good thanks.” Eleanor says in confusion glancing between the two.

“So what did you say?” Parvati asks biting her bottom lip.

“About what?” Eleanor says furrowing her eyebrows causing them both to release loud groans.

“This morning with Harry.” Lavender says impatiently.

Oh shit, what did they know about the conversation she’d had with Harry? Did they know she snuck out last night?

“Um.” She starts trying to think of something to say.

“He asked you out right?” Parvati prods leaning forwards.

Oh right, they think Harry asked her out. Eleanor has to stop a relieved smile that tries to fight its way onto her face.

“No he didn’t.” She admits attempting to give them a smile she hopes appears deflated.

They both groan in unison their smiles dropping instantly.

“I wonder why.” Parvati states turning to Lavender. “You talked to Ron right?”

Lavender nods with wide eyes. “I did Elle I swear, I don’t know why he hasn’t asked you. I’d ask Ron but… well we had a disagreement last night.” Lavender says with a heartbroken expression as Parvati puts a comforting hand on her back.

“I’m sorry.” Eleanor says sympathetically. She knows her and Ron have been rocky for a while they’re not the most stable of couples.

“Thanks.” Lavender sniffs before shaking her head. “But I’m sick of playing second to… it doesn’t matter. This is about you. I might not be with Ron anymore but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you and Harry to be together.”

“I really don’t-.” Eleanor tries to interrupt but Lavender talks over her.

“Honestly Elle I love that you’re so worried about me but I’m fine. I want you to be happy.”

Parvati nods with a soft expression and Eleanor wants to bash her head into the wall.

“What’s the plan?” Lavender asks excitedly.

Eleanor opens and closes her mouth a couple of times before shaking her head. “I haven’t got one.”

“We’ll figure it out together.” Parvati says encouragingly making Eleanor wonder why they’re so invested in this.

“Someone needs to have a happy relationship in this place.” Lavender mutters and Eleanor feels bad for her as she notes the hurt in her voice.

“I can’t believe Dean and Ginny broke up too.” Parvati states pursing her lips.

“Dean and Ginny broke up?” Eleanor asks glancing between them.

“Oh right yeah you weren’t there were you.” Lavender says instantly perking up. “Where were you by the way?”

“Oh I had an astronomy project.” She lies knowing neither girl will bother questioning it. They both nod knowingly before Lavender bursts into a spiel about the previous night.

“It was amazing and awful.” She says excitedly her hands moving animatedly as she speaks. “They were coming into the common room, and I don’t know what happened, but Ginny started shouting at him, saying she can do things on her own and she doesn’t need his help. He said he didn’t do anything to which she sighed and asked why he had to lie all the time. He asked what she meant and she said and I quote you say you’re over her but it’s obvious you’re still in love with her and you’re just using me to fill the space.”

Eleanor’s stomach drops. She’s the her. Ginny feels like shit because she thinks Dean still cares about her.

“But that’s not even the worst bit.” Parvati carries on. Eleanor’s eyes dart to her as she fills with dread, there can’t be more than that. “Dean got really mad and said she didn’t know what she was talking about. Well Ginny lost it and said she’s seen the way he looks at y- her and she’s sick of feeling like she’s not good enough, that’s she’s just there until the other girl changes her mind, the rant went on for like 5 minutes until Dean said and I quote perhaps you’re right.”

Fucking hell.

“Ginny was a mess.” Lavender shakes her head. “But she was also standing up for herself, she was obviously more than hurt but she told Dean how much of a shithead he is. She might have cursed him too, not that he didn’t deserve it. He’s been a bit of a prick this year hasn’t he?”

“Just a bit.” Eleanor mutters her heart breaking for her friend.

“I think he’s got a lot of personal issues he needs to figure out.” Parvati states knowingly.

He really does. Eleanor mentally agrees.

Zacharias turns up at that moment giving them curious looks, he cautiously sits down as Lavender and Parvati shoot him disgusted looks.

Eleanor has to hold back a smile, she might be giving him a second chance but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love her friends letting him know what they think of him.

“Um, hi.” He smiles at them all.

“Hello.” Eleanor says raising her eyebrows at Lavender and Parvati who share a look of contempt at Zac’s appearance. Eleanor makes a note never to get on their bad side.

They turn back to Eleanor with kind smiles.

“See you later Elle, don’t worry we’ll make a plan to get Harry. It’s not going to be hard he’s already obsessed with you it’s obvious how you two are always over each other.” Lavender states giving a snarky look to Zacharias as she says it before her and Parvati disappear.

Eleanor feels her cheeks burn as she watches them shuffle towards their desk. Zacharias is staring at her curiously.

“Um, have I missed something?” He asks turning to glance at Lavender and Parvati who are staring at him with narrowed eyes, whispering behind their hands.

“Probably a lot in all fairness.” Eleanor tells him picking her quill up and writing the date on her parchment.

“Right.” Zacharias says dejectedly, there’s a moment of silence before he continues. “What’s going on with Potter?”

Eleanor stares at him in shock. He was not acting like a possessive dickhead, especially after what he did to her.

“I don’t think that’s your business.” She states before turning back to her parchment.

“No, of course not.” He mumbles. “I just… are you okay?”

“I’m grand.” Eleanor says through gritted teeth.

There’s another moment of silence before. “Elle, I have no right, and I know that, but I can’t just turn off caring about you. Please tell me you’re okay, you’re not…”

“Not what?” She snaps.

Zacharias swallows nervously. “You’re not letting them push you into a relationship you don’t want are you?”

Eleanor halters at that, she was expecting him to accuse her of jumping into bed with someone else so quickly but he was worried she was being pressured. Which she is but she’s not going to give in to the pressure. She’s also a little shocked how he knew that was the case.

“No, they’ve just got the wrong end of the stick.” She answers a hint of sulking in her voice.

Zacharias nods. “Potter’s a good guy. He’s just… you could do better.”

Eleanor sighs. “Like you?”

“Not like me no.” Zacharias shakes his head. “I think I proved how much of a dick I am. I swear I’m changing but he’s still better than me until I prove that.”

Eleanor watches him curiously, was he being genuine.

“Okay.” She says cautiously. “But there’s nothing going on between me and Harry.”

“But they just said you’re over each other all the time.” He says staring back at Lavender and Parvati.

“No we talk a lot because we’re friends. I think they said we’re all over each other to send you a message.” She smiles.

“Oh.” Zacharias states looking taken aback. “What message?”

“Don’t even consider it.” She says simply.

He furrows his brow at her. “Is the message that bad?”

Eleanor stares at him in confusion before she realises he thinks she means don’t consider the message. “No, the message is don’t consider trying anything with me.” She clarifies.

Realisation dawns on him, his mouth forming an oh.

“Right, yeah. Noted.” He says uncomfortably, ruffling his hair.

#theodore nott fan fic #theodore nott x original character #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfiction #tacenda chapter 37 #tanceda fic #hogwarts #golden trio era fic #friends to enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #forbidden love #forbidden relationship #secret relationship #lavender brown #parvati patil #zacharias smith #gryffindor x slytherin #slytherin x gryffindor

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unhealthywhims · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I am one of the former rp partners of Gnoll Guard, on his character Erron, Faune. I’m coming here to say my piece. I met Erron back in early October of last year, and we shared some good rps and stories together! He actually introduced me to Finnegan and the community he leads, where I’ve made a lot of good friends and have some great memories. Erron was cool, he seemed really nice and really chill, and I really enjoyed hanging out with him. We talked a lot, and I’d like to say we got pretty close before shit started hitting the fan. Everything started mid to late November, after the Dragonflight release, from what I recall. Our characters started butting heads and arguing, but everything was still in good faith OOC, from my end!

Everyone was getting ready for the SLP election season, since we were all pretty heavily involved there. The primary issues began when people were trying to figure out what we wanted to run for without stepping on each others toes. Then came the OOC animosity. Erron ICly is a pretty opinionated character, which is totally fine! But it did lead to a lot of pretty sour situations OOC.

OOC =/= IC by any means, ever, especially in the rp I surround myself with. But I do still understand how some content can be disturbing or upsetting for many people.

When Faune and Erron were going through the cusp of their breakup, the two of us reminded one another that there was no OOC animosity between us, but that didn’t seem to be the case for him. Finnegan was given screenshots showing Erron being a flat out racist, and then some other disturbing things that has not been mentioned for the sake of the other person involved, and will NOT be mentioned until they are comfortable, if they ever do decide to come forward on it.

I found myself in many situations where Erron and I were talking OOC, and he’d mention things over. And over. And over, in a sort of subtle way until it was in my head and I’d go “Hey, this is a cool idea!” and then he’d tell me that he agrees and we should do it.

(TW’s ahead! Child loss)

One of those ideas was a pregnancy rp, which I did feel kinda meh about because a big part of Faune is that she just isn’t really capable of having a baby, it’s not something she’s been able to do ever. It’s a point of contention with the toon herself because she wanted to be a mother, but she couldn’t have a child.

I was getting frustrated, because it was around the holidays and DF release, and because I am in a raiding guild I was trying to gear up, dealing with the stress of the holidays, and now, with Faune and Erron icly butting heads and Erron pushing along that a baby would solve all of their problems-.

It got to a point where despite my best efforts, the character was essentially still being extremely volatile and loud, causing a bunch of things to stir up both IC and OOC in Finnegan’s community.

I, however, despite everyone being very vocal OOC about disappointments and disagreements, tried to stay quite for the most part. But I kept everything I could IC. So much to the point that when Faune and Erron got into a fight and Faune told him she was leaving him, and pushing him completely out of hers and the childs life, he threatened legal action.

Now, if you know anything about SLP, you know that all the legal mumbo jumbo in terms of suing and stuff like that can be a pretty massive headache for everyone involved, and frankly, my parents had just finished a divorce not even a year ago that consisted of a pretty awful custody battle, and I didn’t wanna deal with it all over again.

I raised these concerns, and kept repeatedly pushing for us to just drop everything IC. But THEN Erron sent a letter to nearly everyone in the community server trying to ‘out’ Faune for being former Defias, and a recovering drug addict that would harm the child. Everyone knows that I, OOC, draw the line at things involving harm to children in RP, and I’d NEVER roleplay that out on any of my toons because it is a massive trigger for me specifically.

After that, I went to Finnegan is a state of disarray OOC. I was struggling, and I couldn’t tell what was right and what was wrong. I had gotten so under Erron’s thumb that I was stuck there.

Finnegan approached Erron ICly before this letter was sent out, and Erron told me over BNet that we could work it out... But then told Finn that he just didn’t want Faune having the kid. It became quickly clear it was a matter of winning a battle, but I ignored it at the time because it was just IC.

At this point I was in a bit of a panic, because again, a lot of the content being rped at that time were some pretty substantial triggers, and I was just trying to power through it.

The next day I woke up, and messaged Erron about how bad my anxiety had gotten over the whole situation... And then the letter business didn’t help either.

Finally, I decided enough was enough (TWing x2) and wanted to just end the conflict. Of my own decision, Faune lost the baby due to the stress of the situation and the fact that she wasn’t even supposed to be able to have a child in the first place.

Then began Erron asking me “What did Finnegan do to make Faune change her mind on x thing?” As if I wasn’t capable of making my own decisions.

Did I talk to Finnegan about a lot of this? Absolutely. He was my most trusted confidant at that time, and because I was going through so much I knew I couldn’t just sit there alone.

Finnegan approached Erron, telling him he had been removed from the community due to his lack of promised change, AND because he had made me extremely uncomfortable and sent me into a bad mental health spiral.

I would ALSO like to address that Erron was sending me small snippets of that rp, random screenshots, and then Finnegan was sending me full elephant logs when I questioned him on it...

We both recognized that while, yes, I am legally an adult, mentally I was, and still am, recovering from traumas in my childhood and more recent years that prevent me from properly communicating that. I feel I am doing better now, but I still struggle because I don’t want to upset my friends.

So yes, while he is an ACTUAL racist, despite everyones attempts to defend him, he is also a manipulative abuser who a lot of us will not associate with for the way he acts, and acted, OOC.

From what I’ve seen and heard he encourages harassing other rpers (gnoll rpers, and while I don’t agree with them being in SW, I recognize that literally no one is forcing me to interact with them.) and has still not changed.

As I said there is so much more to the story than what I’ve said here because another person involved just doesn’t feel comfortable coming forward with their piece, and you don’t even have to believe me because there is no photo evidence, since we had to change servers because Discord fucked with Finny’s account and had to have it deleted. Not just that but a lot of these ooc discussions happened in game, over BNet (which only goes back so far before deleting, apparently. Or I may have deleted the chatlogs myself, idk.), in ingame whispers, and in party chat.

I really didn’t think I’d have to say any of this publicly, but here we are! Sorry for the long read, hope everyone but Erron has a good day <3

Would I be a, and I quote, "Scummy piece of shit" if I told people that the Gnoll Slayer / Gnoll Guard person is a massive racist IRL and pointed them to that one imgur link from a few weeks back? Because quite a few people think I would be, but I also want people to know that they're RPing with a guy who is comfortable with saying the N-word.

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